#i thought about vashs scars again

[altades]

You know, the guy

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun maximum #vash the stampede #digital art #artists on tumblr #i thought about vashs scars again #every time i draw him i have to think about them and i want to cry #he looks like hes been mauled by a bear #several times #but its really bracing against the entirety of humanitys cruelty #i cry

[revenantghost]

Man, I think the best and worst part of Knives’s character is just how compelling he is*

I get it. You get it. We all understand exactly how and why he is the way he is. So many people have put this idea into better words than I could. He witnessed an unspeakable horror at an incredibly young age. He knew he was different, that he was other, and a worry set deeply into his bones that humanity would reject him for being born who he is. 

And he was right. It was so much worse than he could have ever realized. He was born to be an object for humanity to use as they see fit. All he wanted was love and peace for himself and his brother. And after seeing that? What they did so mercilessly to Tesla? Who can blame him for not believing in any future with humanity in it. Who can imagine a future without unbelievable strife and prejudice when you’re outnumbered and are seen as an item to dissect and toy with as you see fit

And yet

And yet

In his fear, in his need to control and correct, the cycle continues. The abused becomes the abuser. He assaults his brother multiple times. He takes away Vash’s autonomy and manipulates his body without his consent. Hell he happily experiments with/tests and uses Vash’s body while unconscious. He says he loves Vash while refusing to hear a word coming out of his mouth. Because, if he has a moment of doubt, any hint of weakness, all of that anger slips away and he becomes that boy again--afraid and weak and alone

In his fear, he takes plants. He strips them of their independence and will, denying them their souls. Again, he uses the bodies of his siblings against their will. He displays their corpses to keep him angry instead of putting them to rest. He kills and breaks apart the body of his sister so that he doesn’t have to die, so that he can be reborn. He willfully denies the thoughts, dreams, and pains of his sisters and instead absorbs them, impregnates them, tries to kill them in the “right” way

In his fear, he drove humanity into hurting his kind more. He forced their hand into injuring and killing more plants than they’d ever dreamed of harming. He’s the one that put Vash into a constant position where he’s gaining mountains of scars. (His brother who, on the opposite end of the spectrum, has let the cycle of abuse continue while using himself as a shield instead of breaking free from the pattern.) He uses and discards the humans near him no matter the kindness and devotion they shows him

The same behavior Knives shows everybody and everything else

He’s awful. Absolutely sick and perverted and so stuck in his own mind that all he does is hurt and hurt and hurt

And yet

I get it. I’ve been traumatized to the point where all I want to do is cause pain in return. To feel that justice can exist and will come to pass, no matter the cost. To be so afraid that anger is the only safe emotion you can cling to. It’s what makes him one of the most compelling antagonists I’ve ever seen. Kudos to Nightow for fucking me up about Knives and his pain more by the day, honestly

*Except for ‘98 Knives lmao, that man is fabulously unhinged and overly dramatic about everything and I love him for it

#Trigun #Trigun Maximum #Trigun Stampede #Tristamp #Trimax #Trigun Meta #My Trigun Meta #Long Post #I did NOT intend for this to be so long #Maybe a quarter of this length at MOST #Ohhhh this didn't show up in the tag I'M VERY ANGY

[wonderwomanfantasy]

falling in together

awe this is such a concept. I'm such a sucker for Virgin!Vash

Vashx fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, virginity loss, creampie, dirty talk. Vash being jealous, if you squint.

word count: 2,200 (about)

summary: a heated makeout leads to you taking Vash's first time

You’re almost lulled to sleep before Vash comes back. The steady rocking and the quiet chug of the sand steamer were oddly soothing. Normally when traveling, you’d never bother paying for one of the expensive rooms, opting instead to ride in the commercial cheap seats and sleep sitting up, as uncomfortable as that was. But this time Vash had insisted that the two of you get a room with a bed for the night, and you weren’t complaining. The room was small, with basically just a bed in it, but it felt more cozy than cramped. 

You yawned and hugged a pillow to your chest. Vash had stepped out for a minute to check on the other members of your party and you’d promised to wait up for him, but now the lure of sleep was becoming hard to resist. The bed was soft and comforting, and you’d been so exhausted lately. Your eyes fell shut. 

The next thing you knew the bed was shifting as someone else sat down with you. Your eyes flew open and you sat up, dizzy and a little disoriented. You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep. Vash smiled sheepishly. 

“Sorry. I was trying hard not to wake you, so much for that huh?” he said softly. You smiled a little and pulled him close. He’d already stripped out of his day clothes and looked ready to go to bed himself. He was shirtless and in just his boxers. You were the only person Vash let see him shirtless, with all of his scars on display, it made you feel a little special. 

“You should have woken me up, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you said with a yawn, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You reached out for him, wanting to touch him, Vash flinched, then slowly wrapped his arms around you holding you close. You’d gotten used to this little routine after months of being with him. He would react badly if you touched him suddenly or out of nowhere, so you moved slowly, gave him plenty of time to see what you were doing, and stop you if he wanted. 

Vash hugged you tight for a moment, and he let himself relax, Vash sighed and rested his head on your shoulder. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his back, trying not to linger in any one spot for too long. Vash didn’t like his scars being touched, and you did your best not to linger on any of them, even if you wanted to trace them out. 

“You should go back to sleep,” Vash murmured in your ear. 

“Nah I want to spend some time with you. We haven’t had time to ourselves in a while,” you pushed back. It was true. Even though you spent every day at his side. Life on the run like this didn’t leave a lot of time for soft intimate moments like this. 

“We see each other, every day,” Vash laughed softly under his breath “I would have thought you’d be sick of me by now, not want more time with me alone.” 

You reached up cupping his face in both of your hands and looked him in his bright blue eyes “I’m never going to get sick of you. Besides, isn’t that why you insisted on a private room? So we could have some Alone time?” you asked, teasing a little bit. Vash went pink, you could feel his cheeks get hotter in your hands. 

“Well I- I mean yes I love being alone with you but I mean, it was one reason,” he stammered, averting his gaze. 

“What's the other reason?” you asked, now curious. 

“Well, you know…there are a lot of bounty hunters on these sand steamers, a lot of men. And I mean you’re so pretty, I didn’t want anyone bothering my girl,” he said, sheepish again. A warm feeling spread throughout your chest, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling. 

“You’re too cute sometimes, it makes me want to kiss you,” you admitted. Vash went pink again. 

“You can- I mean only if you want!” he seemed nervous, You leaned forward and kissed him softly. Vash hesitated before kissing you back. His hands fall to your hips pulling your body flush against his. You kiss him deeper, lighting nipping at his lower lip. Vash whimpered and pushed you back. You fell down onto the bed, pulling your boyfriend down on top of you. 

Vash leaned down, kissing you again, his arms braced on either side of your head. Your hands tangle themselves in Vash’s spikey blonde hair, holding him close as you kiss. You can’t help but moan a little as the kiss goes on, it really has been too long since you’d gotten the chance to do something like this. To just be close together and feel each other. Vash slips his tongue into your mouth and groans as he tastes the inside of your mouth. Involuntarily your hips bucked up to meet his, grinding lightly against the thigh, trapped between your two legs. 

The kiss broke as both of you groaned at the feeling. Experimentally, you moved your hips up again, dragging yourself up and down his leg. As your hips reached the apex of your thrust. You felt something thick and hard pressing against you.

“Vash,” you breathed. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. And dropped his head, trying to hide his blush. He was hard. After only a little kissing, you might have laughed a little bit if he wasn’t so clearly embarrassed and if you weren’t as equally worked up. 

“Come on Vash it’s natural, there's nothing to be sorry about,” you soothed and pressed your mouth to his neck. He whimpered as you started kissing his throat. 

“It’s still embarrassing,” he sighed,

“I don’t think so,” you reassured him, “I think it’s hot.”

“H--hot?” Vash stammered and pulled back to look at you. “You really think it’s hot when I get this needy?” 

“Very,” you answer. You smile and look down at the bulge still there in his black boxers. You and Vash had never done more than kiss, you had no problem with waiting but if you were being honest, you wanted more.

“Can I touch you? You asked softly. Vash paused and seemed to really consider it, before nodding. Again, you moved slowly, resting your hands on his hips, he shuddered as you moved your hands from his sides over to the flat planes of his stomach, stopping when you felt the soft blonde hair that continued down into his boxers. 

“How do you normally do this? You ask, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his shorts down a little. 

“I don’t know, I h-haven’t…” he said then trailed off before admitting what he hadn’t done, this answer didn’t surprise you all that much. You had kinda guessed Vash was a virgin. You tugged his boxers all the way off. His long, slender cock sprung out, slapping his stomach. A bead of precum spilled out over the slit in his cock and dripped down his head. You wanted to reach out and lick it away,

“What about when you’re alone?” you asked, licking your lips, “when you jerk off, how do you touch yourself?” you asked, forcing your eyes up and away from his cock to look back at his face. Vash opened and closed his mouth a few times but no words came out. Then it clicked. 

“Oh, you meant you haven’t jerked off- not that you’ve never had sex,” you said, Vash covered his face with his hands hiding his blush, leaving only his cock to look at. 

“Well I mean I haven’t done, that, either,” he groaned. 

“How have you never Jerked off?” you asked, a little impressed.

“I don’t know I would just, wash my face with cold water, or like go for a run,” Vash explained. 

“That makes this really special, it’s not just your first time having sex it’s your first time having an orgasm. I better make this special,” you said.

You looked at his dick again and this time you couldn’t help yourself, you reached out and took him in your hand pumping his shaft slowly. Vash whimpered and clapped a hand over his mouth. 

“Sorry, it just felt good,” he said. 

“It’s alright baby, I wanna hear all the sounds you make,” you told him, moving your hand again. “How do you want to do this?” you asked. “Do you want my hand or my mouth, or are you comfortable going all the way?”

Vash thought for a moment, which was hard to do when you were tugging on his cock the entire time. Honestly, he’d be happy with just that. Your soft warm hands making him feel good. But you’d asked what he wanted, not what he’d settle for. 

“I-I want to be in you,” he said weakly. You smiled and pulled away just long enough to pull off your own clothes, then you were on him again, kissing him softly, and coaxing him out of his shell. Vash sighed against your mouth and let himself melt into the kiss. You shifted your weight, pushing down on the bed so you were on top straddling his groin. 

“You’re so pretty,” Vash murmured, his eyes trailing down your exposed body.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We don’t have to rush,” you assured him. 

“I want this,” he said looking up at you again. “And there's no one else I’d rather do it with than you.”

Slowly, you lowered yourself down onto his cock, you paused a few times to let you both adjust to the feeling. His cock fit perfectly inside you. Just stretching your walls out enough so that you felt full, but not enough that you regretted not doing any prep work. Slowly you started rocking your hips back and forth slowly. Vash groaned and gripped down on your hips, halting your motion.

“How does it feel?” you asked, looking down at him. He was flushed, and breathing hard, his thighs trembling like it was a great excursion not to thrust up into you. 

“Fuck- so good, better than you can imagine,” he gasped. “I feel like I’m going to cum already,” he whimpered throwing his head back in pleasure and his grip tightened on your hips. 

“That's okay Vash, I just want you to feel good,” you assured him, Vash let go of your sides,

“Y-you can move,” he decided. “I’ll try to hold off until you cum,” he promised. 

“Shh don’t worry about me, just feel good,” you told him, and started moving. With each thrust of your hips vash let out a whimper until he was crying out shamelessly in pleasure. You tried starting off slow but as he let out those moans, you couldn’t help but speed up and snap your hips up and down, fucking yourself on his dick. 

Vash couldn’t help but moan and whimper and beg as you rode him. He pleaded with you to slow down, then faster- until he was babbling incoherently. You tried to keep yourself quiet, just listening to the pretty sounds that flowed from his mouth. As you rode him, you rubbed your clit, it was clear that Vash was enjoying himself, but you were feeling just as much pleasure.

“F-fuck I’m close, fuck It feels so good,” Vash cried, his hands going to your waste again, not moving your hips for you, just touching you. You noticed tears welling in the corners of his eyes. 

“Are you crying?” you asked a little concerned. your thrusts falter, getting Vash’s attention. 

“Please don’t stop fucking me please I’m so close, please please please-” You started moving again, finding a rhythm again helping Vash chase that high. His hips snapped up to meet yours one final time as he came, his warm cum shooting inside of you. 

Instantly Vash started crying. He pulled you down on top of him and tried to stifle his sobs, all while his softening cock was still buried in you. You tried to soothe him and eventually, he calmed down. 

“S-sorry,” he said and buried his face in the side of your neck. “That felt fucking amazing” he murmured against your skin. A rush went threw you and you held him tighter. 

“I’m glad I made you feel good, you said. 

“Did you…?” he trailed off

“No, but don’t worry about it, this was about you, okay?” Vash seems upset by the fact you didn’t cum and your words do little to soothe him. 

“I’m-”

“Don’t apologize, it’s fine, I had fun,” you assured him, then you smirked a little “It felt good having your big cock inside of me,” you teased. 

“R-Really? It felt… good?” he asked, doubtful,

“Incredible,” you confirmed. Vash looked at you again, his eyes full of love and his newfound lust

“So… if I wanted to do it again-?” he asked. you almost laughed, well, you did have this whole room to yourself. And a long journey ahead of you. What better way to pass the time?

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

[beanibon]

How about Vash who is jerking off to the thought of reader every night and not be able to look her in the eye the next day? he is always feeling so guilty about it and is struggling to talk to reader without remembering the filthy scenarios they thought up the last night.

I'm gonna love embarrassing Vash, I love for his suffering (jkjk)

TW: masturbation (Vash), sexual fantasies,

Guilt ate at Vash's conscious, reprimanding him for what he was doing. Yet despite the voice in his head telling him to stop, Vash couldn't.

Whimpering moans filled his silent room, his flesh hand jerking his hardened cock in quick movements. Mouth hung open, eyes rolled to the back of his skull as he pictured your beautiful face, hips bucking upwards.

Vash felt disgusted with himself, he felt perverted and shameful at the cum dribbling down his shaft, hand coated in his seed at having only thought of you. Dragging his prosthetic hand over his face, wiping the sweat away as he slumped back, groaning.

How could he ever face you, look you in the eye after performing such a self-indulgent, perverted act. It was already bad enough having to travel in that claustrophobic car, seeing you squished between himself and Wolfwood, those soft hands cushioning every bump against his prosthetic. Those same hands against his chest, that beautiful chest of your own pressed into him when Wolfwood crushed you in favour to argue about Meryl's driving.

Vash moaned, low and guttural at his new erection, whimpering as his fingers trailed against it. What he would give to have your hands caress it instead of his scarred palms, feeling those soft, moisturised hands stroke his cock until he was begging for more.

Pulling up his shirt to shove in mouth, muffling his whimpers, Vash shamefully indulged himself once again. The image of your innocent smile driving him forward.

"Morning Vash! Did you sleep well?" The Humanoid Typhoon startled, eyes wide as you apologised for scaring him.

The moment your eyes opened, those beautiful irises shining innocently at him, yet all Vash could do was think of you bent over moaning his name. He instantly looked away, neck burning as he blushed furiously at such sinful thoughts, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

"Ye-yeah guess I slept alright..." The blonde swallowed thickly, brought back to how he moaned out your name, fist squeezing his cock until he came from a mere thought of you.

"I'm glad! Though even if you didn't you always find a way to sleep in the car." Curse that sweet head tilt, the way you just looked at him had Vash shudder at reserved anticipation.

All Vash could muster was a silent nod with a shaky double thumbs up, a crooked smile on his face. You were clearly unsure what was wrong with him, awkwardly patting him on the shoulder before walking off to help Meryl pack.

That touch, that simple touch had Vash tense, a sickly sweet scent rising from his crotch. Vash groaned at the pheromones arising, looking around in hopes no one noticed his predicament.

The worst part was now he had to travel for hours with you right besides him, feeling your body pressed against his. It would drive Vash absolutely crazy.

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #trigun x reader #vash #vash x reader #trigun smut #vash x you #vash the stampede x reader #vash smut #98 vash #98 vash x reader

[shintin]

The Hickey on Your Neck

↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader

One-shot

Summary: Only seconds before closing your eyes do you realize that the dreams you had forgotten among the lust and thrust of your lover were the life you were destined to lead.

Or a story about how You and Vash fucked from dawn to dusk on his birthday.

Word count: +17.5 k.

Genre: explicit smut, romance, angst (Trigun au).

Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, established relationship, soft/dom Vash the Stampede, too much fluff and kissing, scar worship, plant patterns display, manhandling, cunnilingus + fellatio, creampie,  fingering (with prosthetic arm), unprotected sex (c’mon! We want his seeds), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, two smut scenes (one romantic, other hardcore), aftercare, emotional trauma, violence, blood and gore, post-Trigun Stampede but no manga spoilers.

Notes: I'd never written a Trigun fic before, but with this Vash brain rot, I'm sure it won't be the last. I originally intended to name this fic "Sleepless Nightmare" after TOMBI song, but somehow changed my mind. You'll see why. "Elay" in my mother tongue means the Moon of a Tribe. A nick name Vash will use for reader.

By the way, you can also read the Disclaimers and Writer's Note at the end.

Song Recommendation: The Hickey on Your Neck Playlist

You can read my fics on AO3 and Wattpad. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK. This is my DISCORD account, in case you want to contact me.

Back to master list.

07:30 pm – July 21st

A hole had been left in your heart. Throwing yourself backward, you tripped over your feet. Your head slammed into the floor as your arms did little to break your fall. It was a pain you'd never known, a pain you never thought you could feel, never would have even imagined. From the inside out, you were lit on fire by a bullet that went off in your chest.

All of a sudden, everything slowed down.

So this, you thought, was what dying felt like.

You blinked, and it seemed to take forever. The images before you were unfocused, with colors, bodies, and lights swaying in unison and stilted movements blurring. Your ears couldn't hear clearly. All the sounds were garbled, warped, and too high or low.

Who … she?

I asked for a tall, blond man with … eyes, and the folks pointed at her.

How come … shot her …?

She said … had never met such a man.

… idiot! What if she's with the gunman?

Whatever. … doesn't draw a gun anymore; rumor has it.

What a moron! The man may not kill, but … wiped out … whole city!

What … … we should … then?

If … … his girl, … … screwed up!

… the bounty! … get lost before the news …!

It was like all the words were banging into each other, colliding again, spinning around you. Your name seemed to be being called, but you couldn't hear it. Everything was muffled, slippery, and off-balance, like it was there, just out of reach, but you couldn't find it.

Heavy footsteps stomped, stomped, and stomped the ground, and a familiar face appeared before you. The shape, the golden and green colors drew your attention, and you tried raising your hand to feel his warmth once more and assure him that everything was okay, but it was too hard, and suddenly you couldn't breathe. Your throat felt like it was being slashed, holes punching into your lungs, and the more you blinked, the less clearly you could see. The tightest breaths, tiny little gasps, were soon all you could manage. Pain, pain, and more pain followed the dizziness and lightheaded feeling. It was terrible, never seeming to end.

Your sight suddenly went dim. Blindness overtook you.

Blood dripped from you rather than being seen as you blinked, blinked, and blinked in a desperate attempt to regain your vision, but all you saw was a cloud of white. A short frantic gasp and the pounding of your eardrums were all heard. Some warm sensation spread throughout your body as the fresh blood pooled under you.

You knew your life was about to evaporate, and it only made you think about how short you lived with him and how he would blame himself for your loss. Leaving your tears to fall, you whispered, "I-I'm sorry, Vash."

05:45 am - July 21st

A sharp intake of breath caused your eyes to fly open. Your skin froze in a cold sweat as your brain waded in waves of distress. Inhaling as much as possible was the only thing you could do. Your chest heaved, and your heart raced. You looked around, feeling the stillness within the madness, blinking hard against the white ceiling.

Your hands reached your throat and chest. No blood. No holes. You could feel your pulse. That must be the sound of your heart, at least, you hoped.

There was a strange feeling in your gut, like your instincts were stumbling through mud, and your bones were filled with stones. Your eyes shifted to the other side of the bed, and you sighed in relief. The reality sleeping next to you brought a moment of clarity. You sat up on your elbows, head spinning as you glanced at the nightstand.

The glass was empty.

You slowly pushed the sheets aside and felt more awake with your bare feet touching the cold floor. Picking up the glass, you tiptoed toward the murky kitchen.

You reached for the pitcher on the table, but the water never made it to your lips; instead, your trembling hands grabbed the faded and scratched edges of the cabinet as if letting go of this old piece of plywood would plunge you into the blackhole of your nightmare.

A muffled whimper escaped from the bottom of your throat, and you whispered, it was just a dream. Yet, your white knuckles became wet as tears streamed down your face, blurring the cracked tiles before you.

You shouldn't have cried. You should have been stronger. Not just for yourself, but...

Incoherent thoughts still occurred to you as you pressed your palm to your lips—a fruitless attempt to stop any further crying from coming out.

It was just a dream. Everything was fine.

Your glistening eyes were fixed on the glass of water as you took a sip and pushed the venom-like lump down your throat. Nobody was going to lose anyone. This fear was deeply buried under the sands of your heart. Why did it have to appear today of all days?

A chill ran down your esophagus. Your hand shook involuntarily, and a few drops of water slid from the corner of your mouth to your chin and neck and then ran to your perked nipples.

Looking down at your body, you wiped the drops away before feeling cold. After all, this planet didn't earn its name, "Noman's Land" for nothing. The weather could get pretty chilly and cruel in this desert when those two suns weren't out. Moreover, let's not forget how many people were denied heat due to a lack of resources. Ugh! So, it's not like you didn't know you should've worn something, but God damn it! You woke up feeling a great deal of fear. Fuck! Still, you weren't eager to catch a cold. At least, not today. As you were about to return to bed, you suddenly stopped. Random images filled your mind.

Tears staining emerald green eyes, red flowers blooming on blood, and heart-wrenching screams fading in the night, all in an empty room filled with balloons and mud.

The next gulp of water tasted salty, leaving you feeling numb. Tears must have flowed down your cheeks. You lowered your glass and let your thoughts drift away.

There was a flash of your limp body in your mind, accompanied by a sharp twinge in your gut, a screaming sensation in your body, as if your lungs craved for air.

You wicked away the images, expunging thoughts of pain and death from your mind. The churning in your stomach began to slow, but your skin took on a damp, clammy sensation in its wake. You struggled to recount the things you had eaten last night. It must be it. No doubt, you had eaten poorly.

It was just a dream. What the hell was wrong with you? Crying over a dream? What were you, five? No, not today! Not today! Not today! Get your shits together!

After a moment of hesitation, you rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, ran your palm across your forehead and nose, and stopped it on your mouth before glancing at the bed.

Your pale face bloomed with a faint smile as you saw the sight—a miracle in this barren wilderness.

The curtains of the half-open window fluttered lazily with the morning breeze, letting the suns' rays play upon his scarred shoulder blades now and then, and run their greedy fingers through the golden waves of his hair, an enraged sea of sunflowers bounded by rough rocky beaches on the side. Oh! His undercut was glorious from where you watched.

He was sleeping with his eyelids slowly moving. The corners of his lips were curved upwards. Today seemed to be one of those rare days when he was free of the burdens of his past. Was he dreaming? What was his dream about? Love? Peace? Foods? Probably sweets!

You tried to avoid the woods squeaking beneath your feet as you walked back. Putting the glass of water next to the orange-tinted shades, you slowly climbed back under the warm sheets without shifting the mattress too much.

Once your head touched the pillow, cinnamon, and caramel again filled your nostrils. The man ate so many donuts that you feared he would become one. When you pictured it, your smile reached your eyes, and you giggled silently.

Like on the days you woke up early, you rolled over to face him and let your eyes roam over his abs muscles and those beautiful V lines guiding you to his secret paradise. Other than the massive gash across his chest, he had several cuts on his arms, wounds on his shoulders, and scars all over his back and legs. This man was a walking history, marked with painful memories, and luckily, your lips had perfectly mastered the story behind every blemish, slit, and stitch on his body.

It wasn't that simple, though.

When you first met him, he was a broken man covered in an old cloak, his eyes filled with agony. He was consumed by remorse, but nonetheless, he was still full of life and willing to try and glue back all his broken parts. Indeed, it was a challenge for him, and somehow, it didn't come easy to you either. Your heart ached when you removed each piece of clothing from his body. You cursed those who hurt him. It took you time and love to learn how to cherish those wounds instead of looking at them with pity. And little by little, your eyes learned to see a delicate kind of beauty in them, as if, every once in a while, you could see the sunlight shining through the cracks of his heart, lighting up your world in a most wonderful way.

Perhaps that's why after years of running, running, and running, he stopped for once and decided to rest. Something about you must have felt like home. And how lucky you were to have this?

06:30 am - July 21st

You couldn't look away from him, your mind unable to comprehend the perfection of this happiness. He was so ethereal you could hardly fathom that he was yours, wanted and loved you. You couldn't even hear yourself think over the rush of blood in your ears. The sight of him sleeping beside you, relaxed and vulnerable, was causing wild, desperate thoughts to race through your head. God! The fantasies you'd had about him. The places your mind had gone.

You sighed and brushed your face to the pillow, hoping he would roll over to you in his sleep so you could get back into his arms and the legs draped around you. Your eyelids peered at the glistening prosthetic arm in the soft light of the down. Could he feel your warmth whenever you kissed those fingers? How come you had never asked? There were many things you hadn't asked him yet.

Maybe you should start tomorrow? Hm? It's not like the world was ending today.

"You're going to come back over here, or you want to leave me cold and lonely?" he murmured, the raggedness in his voice confirming that he had been sleeping. Your gaze shifted upwards to meet his eyes, only to realize they were still shut, but his lips were painted with a playful grin.

Something inside you melted. It moved by his words, his smile, and his voice.

"I thought you were asleep." You scooted closer, and he wrapped his arms around you, cautious not to accidentally hurt you when he slipped his left arm beneath your neck. "I didn't want to wake you up." Your forehead pressed against his chest, and you felt the coldness of the iron mesh against your skin. His chin rested on your head, and his toes caressed your legs. The prickles of scars and fine hairs of his limbs tickled yours, and you felt blessed.

Funny how your nightmare faded the moment you felt his warmth like he burned a hole right through your head and pulled all your thoughts out. Well, other than that, it seemed like this morning, everything about him was exactly what you needed. His voice was calm and caring, his arms protective, and his presence comforting. You didn't want him to let go of you.

"Even if you had woken me up," he said, his artificial fingers sinking into your hair, and he continued, "I wouldn't have minded." A light kiss on the crown of your head followed his honest words. Even though this man kissed you every day and night, you could feel a silent giggle seeping into your body, causing your face to blush bright red.

Vash yawned soundlessly as he pulled you closer, his eyes still closed. The two of you were so close, too close, but never close enough for him. You had come to realize that your body heat did more for him than any blanket could. It was always in his eyes, aching with a desperate yearning he could only meet with you and your touch.

A joyful happiness settled between you as his hands drew shapes and patterns alongside your spine like those bright ones sometimes you could see on his body. Your lips curved into a smile as you watched him. His hair thick and blonde. The lines of his body sharp and robust. Damn! He had everything about him beautifully crafted. His nose. His chin. His ears and eyebrows. The eyelashes any girl would kill for and those turquoise-green eyes you longed to see. He had a gorgeous mouth.

You lingered too long there, your eyes betraying your mind.

Vash smiled. "What are you doing?" He fiddled with your hair, wrapping a lock around his finger.

In response, you sighed. Clearly, you would never discover how to avoid getting caught red-handed every time. "Just enjoying the view," you said, still staring at his mouth. You reached and touched two fingers to his bottom lip only to feel a rush of memories.

Long nights. Early morning. His mouth on you. Everywhere. Over and over again.

07:15 am - July 21st

He laughed sheepishly at your response.

You brushed a strand of hair off his forehead. His hair had grown a little long. You stroked his cheeks and drew his head back toward you, pressing your lush mouth against his. It never took him long to part his lips. He kissed you back, holding your head steady with his prosthetic arm while his other embraced you tightly. You could feel him smiling against your lips.

He had your heart, and you loved him quite horribly, too. This fact always smacked you over the head so hard you felt dizzy. You should have been afraid and wanted to hide it, as he was the most wanted man on the planet, but love had made you bold and brave.

You pulled back and studied his kiss-inspiring lips. Your whole body was filled with a warmth you wanted to share with him because it was pure, and so was he. There was no way for you to find the right words to describe how you felt.

The morning light was shining through the windows at the perfect angle and time. His muscles were taut, bathed in gold.

"Can you lie back, Vash?" you asked, pushing his shoulder back toward the bed. Finally fluttering his eyes open, he lifted his head in your direction.

Oh.

God.

His eyes.

He blinked dark lashes, revealing a spectrum of sadness and beauty, unlike anything you'd seen before. The way a person could convey so much with a glance caught you off guard. He had an extraordinary amount of pain paired with even more extraordinary passion.

His face spread into a wide smile the moment he saw you. These smiles, they changed him, and moments like this killed you a little.

He had the kind of face that made you forget where you were, who you were, and what you might say or do. You held his face in your hands as you laid his head down on the pillow. A half-lidded gaze sat on his face as he leaned to your touch, and you kissed him. Slowly, this time. His eyes fell closed. His mouth responded to yours.

Your fingers moved to his neck, then to his hair, and your mouth followed them. Soft lips caressed his earlobes and nipped the tiny single hoop, hot breaths hitting his skin, surprising a giggle out of him.

His hands reached up to pull you closer, but you stopped him. "No," you whispered. "Don't move." Without a second thought, he dropped his hands.

"Lie back and keep your eyes closed," you muttered, and strangely, he didn't object. His obedience led to you kissing him everywhere. His cheeks. His eyelids. His chin. The tip of his nose and the space between his eyebrows. All across his forehead and along his jawline. Every inch of his face. Soft, small kisses that said more than you ever could. You wanted him to know how you felt. You wanted him to feel it in the way only he could, the way he could sense the depth of your emotions. You wanted him to know and never forget.

And you wanted to take your time.

As your mouth moved down his neck, he gasped. You peeked up at his features only to meet a crooked grin on his face. The moment was worth savoring. It seemed like Mr. Vash was enjoying himself, so your tongue continued to adore his arm's sculpted hills and valleys, the perfect shape of his torso.

You breathed in the scent of his skin and took in the taste of him as your hands ran down his abs, kissing your way across and down the line of his torso. You kissed around his navel, and the trails of fine hair underneath caressed your lips. He kept reaching for you, trying to touch you until you told him to stop.

"Please," he said, taking a deep breath. "I want to feel—"

Even though he couldn't see you, you raised your brows with a head tilt and gentled back his arms. "Not yet. Not now."

He let out a breath in protest and crossed his arms behind his neck until your hands went further down and his eyes flew open. Blinking at him, you found out you were still fascinated by his eyes—such a stunning shade of green. "Close your eyes, Vash," you had to tell him.

A big gulp of air filled up his Adam apple. "No." He hardly spoke.

"Close your eyes!"

With his sharp gaze following your every move, he shook his head and leaned on his elbows.

"Fine." You rolled your eyes, and your hand grabbed the base of his hardness.

As soon as your nails brushed the skin of his length, he sat up and stared at you. He was breathing so fast you could hear and see his chest moving.

With a smile, you looked him in the eyes and leaned your head down. Your mouth took in the tip, and your tongue traced circles as Vash gasped. The sight of your bent head made him bite his lip. No doubt every fiber of his being demanded you to take him fully in your mouth, but he wanted you to call the shots. Allowing you to control the pace pushed him to the edge. He enjoyed the thrill of knowing he was at your mercy.

Soft hairs of his thighs against your ears, your nose skimmed his sensitive areas, and your lips kissed all over those favorite parts. The smooth skin of your fingers rolled around was warm and delicate, so fragile you were afraid you might tear it with your teeth. You felt his hardness throb against your cheek, pleading with you not to neglect him. Your thumb rubbed the pre-cum off the pink tip as you raised your head.

You looked up at him, his hair gleaming like golden flames, his cheeks drenched with sweat, and his lower lip stuck between his teeth, and you realized that his eyes looked at you with a look of something like trepidation, as if he was nervous. His face was still flushed red, and he had an expression somewhere between unworthiness and pleasure. With every stroke, his breath grew heavier. Obviously, he wanted more but was trying to contain his desire. Did he feel he was getting something he didn't deserve again?

There was no way you could let him be alone with these thoughts. So, before his dazzled eyes, you licked your thumb and watched how blood drained from his head and rushed straight to his torso. In surrender, he fell back; his eyes squeezed shut. You closed your mouth to half his length, and he turned his face to the pillow, stifling a moan. A tremor ran through his body, and his hands gripped the sheets tightly. Your hands ran down his legs, grabbing them just above his knees and inching them apart so you could trail kisses down the insides of his thighs.

He looked like he was in so much pain. So much pain.

You licked the pain away.

Twirling your fingers around the length, you took the crown in your mouth. Only enough to tease. Too little to satisfy. Your lips gently pressed against it, and when Vash was ready to scream, you accepted his whole length in your mouth.

Your lips were sealed tight as you hummed and increased the speed of your ministration. He threaded his fingers through your hair and molded his hands into your head, not to push you further down but to tilt your face up.

His forehead and neck were dripping sweat. The lines of emotion on his face were so deep you wondered how you must look to him. His throat bobbed, and you felt yourself drown in his eyes, enigmatic yet expressive, like sea foam, tempestuous but very calm. His fingers trailed over your salivate-covered lips, and you noticed that the sadness in his eyes had receded.

The world was suddenly brighter, bigger, and more beautiful.

07:40 am - July 21st

Taking hold of you by the arm pits, Vash pulled you in until your chest touched his. Next, you were rolled over so that your back touched the mattress, and he crawled onto you. Now his arms were propped up on either side of your head so he would not crush you under his weight. Looking into his eyes, you were pinned in place. His urgency ignited your bones. The polished planes of his face glowed with rivulets of sweat. His hardness was poking desperately against your thigh.

"I want to … …, …," he whispered. Intoxicated, you couldn't digest anything except his body hovering over you.

"… ?" His body pressed closer, and you realized you were paying attention to nothing but the dandelions blowing wishes in your lungs.

His eyes were heavy now in a way that worried you, but his gaze was still so tender, focused, and full of emotions you could hardly bring yourself to say anything. As your words faded, they became an unspoken whisper. Your lips glued together.

Screams.

Death.

Screams.

Your heart suddenly raced. What if these moments were destined to expire?

The sound of a clock striking midnight. A pumpkin carriage. The possibility of losing him.

You didn't want your arms to be deprived of his warmth. His touch. His lips, God, his lips, his mouth on your neck, his body wrapped around yours. The nightmare had caused this all, you knew, but the realization was like a pendulum the size of the moon. It wouldn't stop slamming into you.

Blinking fast, you swallowed back the fear building in your throat. God! He was speaking with you, but you couldn't hear him.

You were worried, really worried something was going to happen to him. What if bounty hunters found him? Could his brother hurt him? No. No. No. Even though you were only a human, you would never allow such a thing to happen. You just couldn't. You...

"Hey," he said, his voice soft, so soft. His arms were stronger than all the bones in your body. He pulled your figure close. You heard the beats of his heart humming deeply within his chest, and the steel of his arm encircled your whole body, releasing tension from your limbs. The icicles in your body were melted by his heat. Something about this frame made you want to freeze it forever. "You okay, Firefly? Wanna stop?"

The words he said sent waves of emotion coursing through you. He could read you like an open palm. You weren't lost before you met him, but you were never found until he laid eyes on you. Your tears stung as they fell backward down your throat, burning as they went. "Kiss me, Vash," you said before closing your eyes.

He searched your face, unsure what to do, hesitating, until you felt his lips on your shoulder, tender and scorching, so gentle you could almost believe it was the kiss of breeze and not a man.

Again.

This time, it was on your collarbones and felt like an ache that needed to be soothed. You didn't want to do anything to stop his mouth from touching your body.

He pulled back.

Desire.

Crave.

Need.

Again.

Your eyes refused to open.

His finger grazed the corner of your mouth, tracing its shape, the curves, the seams, and the dips. You felt him so much closer, his body heat filling the air around you, along with his smell and something sweet, until nothing was left. Your senses were so engulfed in his scent you didn't even realize your back was arching toward him as you breathed him in until you found out his fingers were no longer on your lips because his hand had gotten around your body.

"So, where do you want me to kiss you?" Vash whispered, his chest heaving, his words almost gasping. A wave of blistering heat moved through you, sealed shut your mouth. You didn't specify precisely where you wanted him to kiss you, and he didn't seem to have any difficulty selecting the spot. 

He whispered your name as he kissed the corner of your eyebrow. "Here?" His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, and your body squirmed slightly. "Or here?" He pressed a kiss against your neck, right beneath your ear, and you tipped your head to let him in, biting down the urge to beg him to take more, to take faster, as he murmured, "tell me."

Clasping your warm fingers with his cold metallic ones, he hovered over you to kiss your throat. You were the oxygen he desperately needed to breathe. His body was almost on top of yours, one hand in your hair while the other held yours delicately yet firmly. His lips crushed yours in no time.

A kiss like this was like swimming in honey rivers, like being dipped in gold, like diving into an ocean of bliss and not realizing you were drowning because you were too caught up in the current to notice. Nothing mattered anymore—neither your nightmare, this room, or the whole fucking planet.

All that mattered was this.

This.

This moment. These lips. This strong body pressed against yours, and these firm hands that always found a way you bring you closer. Oh, My Gosh! You wanted so much more of him. You wanted all of him.

Your eyes opened up.

Not content to be passive, your hands ran down his back, dancing over his broad shoulders, pressing into his dimples, and squeezing his hips.

Your hand grabbed a fistful of his hair when he broke for air with a groan, but you pushed him back, kissing his neck, arm, collarbones, and chest. It was amazing. Being with him, touching him, holding him like this. The rush of adrenaline was so intense and euphoric that you felt invincible.

He muttered your name, his lips mouthing the letters, barely speaking. Your skin was scorched everywhere he hadn't touched you.

He kissed your top lip.

He licked your bottom lip.

He kissed just under your chin, the tip of your nose, the length of your forehead, both temples and cheeks across your jawline. Then your neck, behind your ears, the space between your breasts. He nibbled your nipples and left trails of kisses all the way down your belly button until his entire form moved down your figure, disappearing as he shifted downward, and suddenly his chest was hovering above your hips.

Grasping your calves, he spread your legs apart just enough for his head to fit between. Your thighs were lifted, and you couldn't see him anymore. His only visible features were the top of his head, the curve of his shoulders, and the unsteady rise and fall of his back as he breathed. Eventually, even that sight was lost, with your head falling backward and muffled moans leaving your mouth.

Vash ran his hands down and up around your bare upper thighs and ribs, and he held your hips to make you stand still. Your eyes lit up like small firecrackers every time his hair teased your groins until his lips kissed you there, and fireworks exploded in the back of your head.

As his right hand pressed against your stomach, his tongue played around to make you scream aloud. His mouth brushed against your skin in places you couldn't see but felt deeply. Oh my! You were out of your body, touching stars, when you realized he was working his way up your body, leaving two fingers of that prosthetic arm behind.

"It might feel a bit cold," he said as his nose glided the skin of your stomach, leaving random kisses around your breasts and collarbones just to ease your tension. "Tell me if it hurts, okay?" His hair was a mess, the wetness on his lips all familiar.

A nod came from you in response. He almost seemed to be smiling as his fingers slipped inside your slit, and your nails dug into the fabric. Moaning, you felt his warm hand brushing your hair backward as the other moved up and down inside your walls.

Your mouth was parted in a silent moan, and his small pecks covered you all around. There were tears in your eyes, baby hairs sticking to your sweaty forehead.

As his thumb and two fingers hit all the right spots, your throat wailed in frustration.

You grabbed his free arm, and he pulled himself up, onto you, on top of you. As if reading your thoughts, he kissed you hard. How strange, yet sweet, all you could taste was you, yourself, on his tongue. You moaned at the taste, and he opened his mouth more for you, allowing you to brush your tongue against his teeth.

The stinging coldness of his fingers was long gone. You had forgotten everything. There was something you shouldn't have forgotten, but you couldn't even remember why, what you were forgetting. Amid his length caressing your side and those digits thrusting backward and forward, paying attention to anything else was hard.

You could die from this, you decided. From wanting him, from the pleasure of being with him.

You must be smiling because he was looking at you and smiling too. His forehead was pressed against yours. His skin was flushed with heat. His hand had kept your head still. Your hands gripped his nick, sliding into the hollow behind it. You placed your palms just above his nape, and your fingertips gently began to squeeze and massage his undercut.

"Va-sh."

For a moment, you thought life poured out of you, or maybe your vision fractured as release barreled into you, and you grasped his name over and over again till your body calmed under his weight.

08:10 am- July 21st

Your eyes landed on his glistening wet metallic fingers, and you were dripping, burning, melting with anticipation. He was still on top of you when you thought you heard him speak, his mouth close to your ear.

"I love you," he whispered and kissed your brow. It never occurred to you that he could be like this, so human, so real, but it was there. It was right there. Raw, written across his face. You were about to mutter all the words and worries you held in your chest, but suddenly he stood up and stared blankly at the other side of the room.

You followed his gaze to the pane of glass separating you from the reality outside. You awaited his lips to part. You waited to listen to him speak. His eyes weren't revealing anything about what he was thinking, what was going on.

Something about the realization struck fear into your heart. In the span of a single instant, darkness surrounded your vision. Images appeared in the blur of your sight again.

The petals of red Geraniums floating in the sky, a boy running through blood-stained sands, the time speeding up and slowing down in fits and starts, streaks of green and red staining your dilated eyes, stars exploding, lights flashing, sparking, and then it's all darkness and Vash's screams.

You shook your head.

The images disappeared, but the heartaches and fears lingered, and you had to keep reminding yourself to breathe. Your lungs begged for air, but you looked around for Vash instead.

It seemed he wanted to scream, but you knew the words wouldn't leave his mouth. Those thoughts would expand in his head, explosive and angry, pressing against the ridges of his mind, and then he would hide them behind a smile. As he always did.

"Vash?" you called, just before witnessing how a car's radio sound from the street ripped open his past, pulled out what was left of his heart, and dropped it on the floor.

"… been two years since that fateful July 21st. A crowd has gathered at what used to be the third city of July to pay their respects. Even after two years, the pain of losing their loved ones has yet to heal. The suspect said to have murdered 90 percent of the city, also known as the Humanoid Typhoon, still remains at large. Vash the Stampede is on the run. If I were the demon who turned the whole city into a gaping crater overnight, I'd hide my face too. There is no forgetting the sorrow of loved ones taken from us. The Alliance of Cities has raised the dead or alive bounty on Vash the Stampede to $$60 billion, the highest in the history of…"

The loud words bounced around in the haze of your head, fogging your senses, misting your eyes, and clouding your concentration. In your bones, there was just ice. Your entire being wanted to vomit. Reality slapped you in the face, punched you in the jaw, and dumped you into sand oceans. You grasped the nightstand to keep yourself steady. The orange shades fell on the floor, leaving a big crack on display.

Vash was shaking his head over and over and over and over. He was looking at his hands like he would see some blood on them, as if waiting for the part where someone would tell him this wasn't real and he didn't actually kill those 200,000 innocent people.

Oh, my beloved.

The pain was so plain on his face; it was killing you. Your gaze was drawn to the balled fists at his sides, the furrows in his brow, and the tension in his jaw. Minutes ago, this man was free, but now he was a prisoner of his own crime. In your heart, you wished you could release him from the claws of self-reproach.

Having seen his terror too often, you knew it well.

Sometimes, even when he was asleep, his tormented mind would grip his heart, and such emptiness and sadness would fill him that you felt he was suffocating, as if his sleepless nightmares never had an end.

You didn't know him before,

but

you

thought

he

had

lost

a

bit

of

himself

on

the

day

of

July

incident.

As time passed, you assumed he had finally learned not to dwell on what had happened. You imagined he avoided it like a cripple learning not to put weight on his injured leg.

However, deep down, you knew he was living on eggshells, always wondering when something would break, when everything would crumble. You always dreaded this day. This silence. It was not just an ordinary silence caused by the lack of things that moved or made noise, but a deep and tired silence that sometimes covered him like an invisible cloak—like the one ruling between your shared walls right now.

Stacks of sorrow had grown inside him, settling on his bones and snapping him in half. A cable twisted around his neck, a worm crawling across his stomach. It was the night, midnight, and the twilight of indecision. Too many pains to bear.

How naive of him to think he could slip into the role of a regular being and live a normal life in love and peace.

Vash.

Vash the stampede with a dream.

The mere thought of it filled him with mortification. He began to think others were right when they said things like him were better off destroyed.

Shaking his head, he coughed against the torture in his lungs, heaving strange, horrible gasps until his whole body spasmed into submission, leaving him sitting on the bed's edge like a sack full of nothingness. The old gunman looked as if he might collapse, barely breathing, his life-force being torn asunder.

You felt like your throat was closing up. You knew the infamous humanoid typhoon was everything broken and glued back together, and now knives bore holes into his cracked bones, filled with grief that could take his breath away.

Your face was drained of color, your ears ringing with your heart pounding. His desperate screams from your nightmare echoed in your head as if on repeat. His agony was acute. His terror palpable. Tears sprung to your eyes. It was painful to look at him, being so close and far away from him.

"Local news. You know how dumb they are," you said, trying to hide your petrified and nerve-wracking thoughts from his reach. What if he never experienced peace? What if there was no sanctuary, and the pain was always a whisper away, no matter where he went?

Pressing your nails to your palm, you continued, "None of that incident was your fault. You know that too. You hear me?"

His eyes widened a little. No one had ever cared about him for this long. No one had kept him ever this closely to read his thoughts word by word. No one had ever treated him like a human being. Then again, he thought you didn't know about all of his sins. In a century and a half, he hadn't been able to forgive himself; how could you? It made him wonder how long you could endure him before running for your life.

His head was spinning, thoughts knocking into one another. He clenched his fists and pushed back down the misery that had stuck with him. Even though he didn't want this, you'd probably be better off without him.

"Vash?" You swallowed and dug your fingers into the sheets desperately, a tear trickling down your cheek. It kept hitting you in the face, in the skull, in the spine, this knowledge of just how much you loved him.

His lips looked like they were barely able to form words. He could only take these harsh gasps and wonder why his body hadn't given up.

On all fours, you approached him and sat on your knees on the edge of the bed with a slight distance between you and him. You knew he wouldn't object, but you didn't want to intrude on his privacy. Thus, you remained silent so that he wouldn't be left by himself, and he would know you wouldn't leave him alone.

09:15 am – July 21st

Time passed, and you checked on him occasionally to see if he wanted to talk until he raised his head slightly.

"I'm a demon," he said the sentence so quietly. So, so quietly. He ran a hand across his face, both hands through his hair, looking like he wanted to scream, to break something, like he was truly about to lose his mind. "The world sees me as a threat. An unfixable monster. An abomination. They want me dead." His voice sounded sorrowful, almost like he had already accepted these labels.

Thousand pieces of feeling stabbed you in the heart. "I don't think you're a demon. Also, I don't think you're some sick, twisted monster. I don't think you're a heartless killer, and I don't think you deserve to die. You're not a humanoid typhoon. No, you're not any of the things people have said about you," you told him, words tripping and stumbling out of you.

His mouth fell closed, struggling with some kind of emotion, struggling to find composure. Suddenly he gasped. "No." One broken word. Barely even a sound. He was shaking his head, looking away from you. He turned to face the window. "No. No, no—"

"Vash—"

"No," he said. His voice was so soft and so scared you could scarcely hear it. "No, you don't know what you're saying—"

"You're not a monster!" you said. "And I love you exactly as you are. I don't even want you to fix yourself; I don't think you need to be fixed. People here love you as you are. Your name is the only thing that scares them," you told him.

You knew people had the right to fear him. You knew. Humanoid Typhoon certainly wasn't made of sugar, spice, and everything nice, but rather from hurricanes, lightning, and all things that scared. Seeing dusty storms and raging winds, people thought he was scary. They feared he would harm them. In truth, he was only his own disaster, destroying himself for others. He was Vash. Your Vash. Vash the Stampede, and you loved him with all his fears and frights, dreams and nightmares, sins and scars.

You smiled and continued, "If they learn your name and start hunting you, we'll run away! We'll run, run, and keep running as far as we have to! And when things calm down, we'll settle by their side again. You won't kill. You'll never kill anyone again, and one day, people will begin seeing you as I do."

Maybe tears filled his eyes. Possibly his breath was trapped in his chest. Perhaps his heart warmed a little. No one knew, not even the author. He had his head down, his chest rising and falling.

You sat behind him. A map of pain had covered his entire back. Thick, thin, uneven, and terrible, scars like roads leading nowhere. There were bolts and ragged slices, marks of torture he was not protected from.

Kindness must be difficult when all you'd received was hatred. Being able to see goodness in the world must be so hard when your only experience had been terror. You wanted to say something to him. Something profound, complete, and memorable, but there was nothing suitable. This planet was a broken bone that didn't set right, and Vash wanted to glue it back together. Alone, all by himself.

You two differed in this respect. Fearless and unafraid were two different things. He was fearless. He dared to outshine the sun, stare down a bullet, kiss death and walk away with his back unguarded. He would hold the whole world in his palms despite its bone-crushing weight, despite its sharp edges crusted with blood, if only he could stop it from falling apart. But you? You were fearful. Sometimes you couldn't breathe around the clot of fear lodged in your throat. The only way to lessen its weight on your tongue was to scream until no words came out, while the only way to chase away its shadows was never to close your eyes at night. You were unafraid of one thing, though —he could tear down the world and bury you alive under the weight of his guilt, yet you would follow him without hesitation.

Your eyes rested upon woven strands of sunlight, alighting softly upon his scarred skin. These honeyed arcing rays gave him a light glimmer that revealed his plant patterns, pulsing slowly and dimly. Something about the scene was so divine, and you felt the dawn rise from your heart every morning and reach the sky.

You hugged him from behind by bridging the gap between your bodies and leaned your cheek against his sun-kissed back. Your hands gently caressed his stomach and chest as your lips left kisses on his love reminiscences—one by one.

You could hear him breathing in and out. Unevenly. Yet he was silent. Hands clenched, knuckles white. Of course, he wanted you with a desperate need he had never known. But his regret, sins, and crimes were so overwhelming they consumed him. He thought, how could you be so kind to a thing like him?

Unaware of the voices in his mind, you dropped a kiss on his spine. You kissed the curve of his shoulder. His shoulder blades. Five kisses down his spine, each softer than the other one. For every little moment of pain he had ever felt in his life, you wanted to make it all go away. You kissed his neck, trying to ignore the tension in his muscles, the ache spreading inside you, urging you to end his suffering.

Your words were heavy with sincerity when you said, "I don't care what everyone else thinks about you." You leaned your forehead to his shoulder, your breaths gently caressing his back. "Because you're the only good thing left in this world."

As his eyes widened, he breathed heavily, trying to gain control of himself. "What are you saying?" he asked, his hand caught in his hair. "How can you tell such a thing this after all this?" His hand pointed to the window, to the news on the radio.

Standing on your knees, you kissed the hand caught between his gold locks. The same hand he always tried to cover its scar with a glove. Because the idiot thought his scars would be repulsive. The idiot. Your favorite idiot.

You didn't sit back. Keeping your head there, your nose buried in his hair, and your chest pressed to his back—this smell. You had never seen a sea, but you had heard about them. And you believed if there was ever to be a sea in this hell hole, he would smell like a sunny beach. Sweet, enveloping, and warm.

"That is—" your voice broke when you spoke. "That's what the family is for, Vash."

A sudden searing heat flashed behind his eyes, and his heart leaped at your response. He dropped his hand on his knee and sat still in place by the weight of your words. His hand trembled, and his eyes were willing and wanting but filled with both sadness and happiness.

A family.

All this time, he thought you were with him all along because you didn't have a grasp on his sins, but now, he could see that you already knew everything. And despite all of this, you were still willing to forgive him and give him something he always wanted but never had without even requiring him to earn it or redeem himself.

You touched his arm and traced the tender skin with your fingertips. Scars everywhere. You kissed the back of his elbow. "I'm sorry for everything humans have done to you," you told him, and he took a shallow breath. "Forgive us." Another kiss. "Forgive me."

A delicate warmth filled Vash's heart and melted it into drops of warm honey that soothed the scars in his soul. He turned his head and stared at you with open, vulnerable eyes, a tight jaw, and tensed muscles. No one had ever apologized to him. According to his experience, he was usually the monster, the wicked one. The onus always was on him to make amends.

It stunned him how strange it felt. Up until now, he never thought he deserved forgiveness, let alone someone asking for it.

Running a tired hand across his face, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. A joy filled his heart, causing him to feel heavy with something he wasn't even sure he could describe.

Gratitude, perhaps.

The ache in his chest had grown more assertive, more painful. But for now, he didn't want to think about it. He simply just wanted to enjoy your proximity.

Your hand reached up to stroke the luminous curved shapes on his cheek, tracing them to the softness of the mole beneath his left eye. The look in those aquamarines breaking your heart. You couldn't bear to see his face covered in sorrow and guilt.

"You're a good man, my Vash," you said, your words soft, your hand gentle as you tilted his chin up toward your mouth. He was blinking fast, yet not denying. You whispered words on his lips that no one had ever spelled out for him. "Rem would've been proud of you," you told him, watching the movement in his throat and his effort to keep it together. It didn't take you long to kiss him once, tenderly.

He found himself at a loss for words, opting to convey his emotions through touch instead as he melded his lips with yours. He sighed into your mouth, and you kissed him even more deeply, almost desperately, as if trying to pass over your breaths to him. You could taste the salt on your tongue. The wet drops falling on your cheeks made your flesh burn. You were uncertain whose they were as you continued to try and cling to him.

10:00 am – July 21st

The sheets slowly slipped and fell to the floor as Vash pulled you into his arms, clutching you tight, hardly able to breathe. When he exhaled and looked at you again, there were stories in his eyes, thoughts, whispers, and feelings of things you had never seen before. His whole body seemed to be relaxed in relief. He looked like he was hanging on his sanity by a single, fraying thread. You.

And you promised yourself, at this moment, that you would hold him forever, just like this, until all the pain, the torture, and the suffering was gone, until he'd given a chance to live the kind of life where no one could ever hurt him this deeply ever again.

He touched your cheek. Soft, as if he wasn't sure if you were real. His four fingers caressed the side of your face gently before they slipped behind your neck, caught in that in-between spot below your ear, and his thumb brushed the apple of your cheek, then grazing your bottom lip.

You did so much with these lips, you thought. Touched, kissed, and pressed them against tender parts of his skin. You made promises, and the words they formed, the shapes and sounds they curved around, all for him.

Vash moved closer by just an inch. His free metallic hand cupped the other side of your face. He was holding you like you were made of crystals. Holding you and looking at his own hands, he couldn't believe you were real.

Gone was the man with guns and bullets. These hands treasuring you had never held a weapon. They were perfect and kind, never touched by death. He took your hands and pressed your palms to his face. Tears must have welled up in your eyes when you closed them.

You whispered his name, and he breathed harder than you.

Could this be a dream?

You shook, shuddered, splintered into teardrops, and he held you like no one had before. He wanted you. Seeing him cling to you as he might never let go did something to you, something heady, knowing that he might wish you, or need you, like this, made you want to protect him even though he didn't need your protection.

Gently, he stroked your hair and pressed his lips to your forehead. Gradually, his arms became the arms around your waist; his lips became the lips pressed against yours, his body the warmth you felt.

You weren't even breathing, but you were alive, and he was kissing you. Deeply, desperately. The palms of his hands were rubbing the small of your back as he lifted you into his lap. Your legs automatically wrapped around his hips, allowing him to kiss your neck, throat, and nipples.

You broke apart with his small licks here and there, breathing hard, and stared at him like a bonehead, your brain still too numb to figure out exactly how you two got here.

Tilting his head to a side, he pressed his lips against yours again, seeking you with a burning need, a new kind of desperation. His hands were threaded in your hair, his lips so soft, so urgent against yours, like fire and cinnamon exploding in your mouth.

Vash nibbled your bottom lip in a flash and pulled back just a little bit. Your body was flooded with heat and desire so intense you could hardly think when he parted his lips from you to sigh in your mouth, and that slight sound of pleasure drove you crazy.

Putting one hand under your neck, placing his mouth on your breast, and running his fingers down your back, he pressed your body closer, only to find something hard pressing against your groin.

Oh.

Well.

While he avoided your gaze, he smiled sheepishly and tentatively touched your thighs with his hands. Because of what had happened, you knew he would probably feel embarrassed to ask for it, but that didn't mean you wouldn't give it to him. He deserved the whole world if you had the chance to provide for him. His markings were glowing softly when you squeezed him closer to yourself, holding him tighter.

Biting his lip and stifling his groan, his smart-ass hands slid up your legs and into your thighs. Soon, his lips reached your chest. Your body ached everywhere, tasting colors and sounds you didn't even know existed. His forehead was pressed against your chin, and your hands gripped his shoulders. He was hot, gentle, and somehow in a hurry.

You were beyond the reach of rational thoughts. Beyond words, beyond comprehension. The world was beyond understanding because nothing could ever compare with this. Nothing could ever capture the way you were feeling right now. Nothing mattered anymore. You were left with only this moment: his mouth on your body, his hands on your skin, and his lust deep in his eyes, making you absolutely insane.

Your wetness was no longer a secret when he surrounded you everywhere. As he watched you, you reached down and adjusted his length against your slippery entrance over a few strokes. His pulse could be felt in your palm and soon inside of you.

Using both soft and hard hands, he gently grasped your hips and pulled you down toward him. As he entered, you gasped, every time surprised at his size, clinging desperately to his neck as he hitched your legs around his waist, his prosthetic arm settling beneath your thigh. You loved the feeling of him stretching you. You loved having him this close to you. You loved the way he manhandled you. You loved his hand around your neck and the little squeeze of his fingers around your nape.

His grip tightened when he sensed you were ready for him, and he started moving you up and down. You cried out and leaned your cheek to his nose, dying and somehow being brought back to life in the same moment, in the same breath.

Fuck! You were full of him.

He lifted your thighs, and you bit back the moan stuck in your throat. His mouth wouldn't let go of your skin, kissing you with an intensity that made you wonder why you hadn't died, caught on fire, or woken up from this dream yet. Then he returned his hands to your face and kissed you once, twice.

The room's silence was filled with your heavy breathing, your chest against Vash's. Your pulses hammered against each other. You felt his arms around you become unbearably tight as he yanked you up and down with even more force than before, hitting you in a place he seemed to know too well.

As his teeth caught your bottom lip momentarily, you pushed your nails to his shoulder, running your fingers through his hair to pull him into your mouth. He tasted so sweet. So hot and sweet. You kept trying to say his name, but you couldn't even breathe, much less say a single word.

The pace increased slightly; each thrust was hard, deliberate, wringing gasps, whimpers, and long, rolling moans from you.

Your eyes tingled with tears, falling fast down, traveling quietly down your cheeks, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs two parentheses in your mouth, against your tongue and saliva. As if he had found Adam's ale between million mirages of the desert, he stared at you, his eyes like fire in the water.

"I love you," he whispered over and over, his voice fragile, uneven. His lips covered yours in a tender kiss. He kissed you and tasted your tears, the lingering flavor of pleasure laced in your mouth. He kissed you and kissed you until time toppled over, and your head spun into oblivion.

Vash loved you…

His temple was leaned against yours when you took his earlobe between your teeth, stripped him to his bones, and ruined him from the inside out. Your sweet little tongue was frantic when you whispered, "I'm yours to love."

Hearing your words, he held still for moments, sucking in the air because he felt almost dizzy with satisfaction, running his hands over your thighs.

You. You were his. You, the one who knew if you left him alone at that moment, would fall into the depths of his own hell; if he'd slipped through your fingers, he would be gone, and no one could bring him back. You did not erase all his pain or offer to solve all his problems. You didn't fix everything that was broken, but that wasn't what he needed anyway. What mattered the most was that you stayed.

He loved you.

He loved you so much.

Grasping your soft hips, he buried his face against your shoulder and sped up. You were his undoing, taking him apart and putting him back together differently, better, and more himself than he ever could have been. He gritted his teeth as his orgasm came barreling at him. His hands glided on your back when you shuddered, your inner walls squeezing him so hard he couldn't prevent his release. With a growl, he thrust wildly, once, twice—and then everything around you both disappeared until it was all just colors and light, the sun shines and oceans, apple trees, and blossoms.

Your eyes were still closed, and you felt his hands laced with yours, just to remind you that you had him here and that he was with you. Your partner in everything. His chest heaving, he buried his face in your neck, sweat covering his temples. Kissing him there, you inhaled the scent of his hair.

"You're my family too," you heard him whisper, his words etched into your soul as his lips moved against your skin. And you wished, more than ever, that you could capture moments like this and relive them forever.

12:50 pm – July 21st

You woke up with a smile, your skin still hot from the memory of your vile. You were cleaned with a wet towel, placed in bed with a kiss, and promptly fell asleep. Thankfully, no nightmares this time.

What time was it? You didn't know.

As you stretched your legs under the sheets, you realized your back was against Vash, his prosthetic arm resting on your pillow, the other tucked around your waist. Knowing he had held you this close warmed the pit of your stomach and made you feel so safe that you didn't ever want to move, but you had a thousand things to do today, but you never, ever wanted to move.

Truth be told, you loved these moments the most. The quiet contentment. Being enveloped by his naked body. You never felt closer to him than you did like this when there was nothing between you.

Today was a big day delayed by your nightmare and the sound of that stupid radio! There was no way you were going to let anything overshadow his birthday anymore. Even for a few hours, he deserved this celebration, this little distraction. He deserved to be happy, eat, and laugh.

You sighed, hating to wake him up since he seemed pretty tired. Slowly, you turned around in his arms. A smile tugged at your mouth as you watched him, amazed at how his presence could bring you such peace. He shifted again, burrowing deeper into the pillows, and you realized he must be exhausted.

Watching the movement of his throat, you breathed him in, running your hands along the deep, strong lines of muscle in his arm. His entire being felt raw. Powerful. Being a plant had something wild and terrifying about it; somehow, this knowledge only made you love him more. You traced the contours of his shoulder blades, then his spine. He stirred, but only briefly, and buried his face in your hair.

"Don't go," he whispered softly, pressing his nose to your scalp alongside his lips.

You tilted your head, gently kissing the column of his throat. "Vash," you whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

Taking a deep breath, he said, "good."

You smiled. "Oh, but we should probably get out of bed. I promised Rosalina I'll help—"

A disapproving sound escaped his throat as he shook his head, deftly helping you turn around. He hugged you close again, your back pressed against his chest. Soft and husky, his voice was full of desire when he said, "C'mon, let me enjoy this. Feeling good."

"You don't want a cake?" you blurted out, but it certainly caught his attention.

You could feel he raised his head, stiffened and confused. "How come Rosalina's making me a cake?"

Did you hear correctly? Had he forgotten about his birthday? Did this day become neglected to the point where it was forgotten?

Turning around, you saw he was sitting, his body frozen and his heart probably pounding furiously. Getting him to attend his birthday would take more effort than you expected. Because he asked how you could possibly plan a party for him, why anyone would throw him a party, what if he didn't even like birthday parties, and so on. Still, you didn't fall short. Since the day he told you about Rem making them a cake for their birthday, you kept track of his birthday. The July incident wasn't going to overshadow his birthday. It was your vow to replace that memory with better ones. That forever and ever, you'd strive to drown out the darkness that had ruined his life.

In his eyes, tragedy and beauty could be seen, a stoicism that wouldn't be shaken, and childlike joy that couldn't help but flow. When he swallowed, you noticed the gentle movement in his throat and moved your hand to his ear, your pinkie touching his earring, then tracing down his jawline. You didn't receive a rejection, but you didn't receive a yes, either. Why wasn't he saying anything? He had you on your worried until he clasped his hands over his face.

Your hand brushed against his undercut as you gently kissed his temple and tried to pry his hands away from his face. "Vash?" you said, your words hardly a whisper. "Is everything alright?"

The reply took him a few seconds to come out, but when he finally did, he nodded. It was only once, but it was enough. "Yeah," he said softly. "I'm okay."

The feeling of relaxation washed over you as you exhaled. "If you don't want a—"

He held and squeezed your hand as he looked at you, his eyes round when he said, a little nervously, "what have I done," he whispered, his voice trembling, "to deserve you?"

Did you die of joy? Because he took your face in his hands and kissed you so passionately, it blew your mind. Your heart began to beat violently, and you didn't recognize yourself. You didn't recognize your hands, your bones, your heart. You felt new. "Thank you," he whispered. "For loving me and everything."

"It's very, very easy to love you, Vash," your lips might have said, but the words never left your lips. You didn't know what to do, so you reeled him in, kissed him, and lost yourself in his taste and feel, in the fantasy of what you might have. What you might be.

But wait! Didn't you know fate was a jealous, vicious mistress that never ever slept?

You blinked.

You blinked again, but this time for too long. You saw a flash of blood spewing inside your open mouth. Nausea returned with a swiftness that scared you. A breath was drawn, your fingers fluttering as you desperately tried pressing them against your stomach. Pain filled your eyes as you kept them open. Clenching your fists, you attempted to control spiraling thoughts.

However, nothing helped. Nothing helped. Nothing, you thought. Nothing, nothing, and nothing.

Where was Vash? Where were you?

Throughout your open eyes, terror oozed from your heart. You heard someone calling your name. A hand brushed lightly along your spine as you shivered suddenly at the unexpected sensation.

" …," the voice said, "do you … ?"

The warmth moved in only to meet the coldness of your skin. You felt it all. Again and again, a touch of his finger did pull you out of your nightmare.

A rustle of sheets caught your attention, and Vash pulled you onto his lap. Straddling him, your legs stretched across the rumpled fabric. Wrapping his arm around you, he spread his hand along your back.

It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream.

Turning carefully in the cradle of his arms, you pressed your forehead to his bare chest, your eyelashes fluttering against his rough gash.

"You okay?" he asked, his metallic fingers combing through your hair in a soothing act.

"Yes," you replied, forcing air into your lungs. You were breathing hard, head spinning as you held on to him. "Yes."

"Is something wrong, Elay?" He probably had lowered his head because his breath was touching your shoulder.

"Nothing," you claimed. Your heart was beating fast, too fast. You didn't know why you were lying. You should have just told him, but you didn't know why you weren't.

Wait.

Actually, you knew.

You were waiting.

You were waiting to see if this shit would pass. It had to, because today was a special day. Because you were already exhausted, and the radio's sound was repeating in your ears. Because you didn't want to add another burden to his shoulders with your silly nightmare. Even more, it wasn't real. Just a figment of your imagination, and saying it out loud would make it sound more real than it really was.

Vash asked no further questions. He was more of an "if you love someone, let them keep their secrets to themselves " guy. He pulled you close, and you melted into him, grateful for his warmth and steady hold. You took a deep, shuddering breath and let it all go, exhaling against him. A faint aroma of caramel lingered in your nostrils as you breathed in his skin's rich, heady scent. The minutes passed silently as you both listened to each other breathe.

01:45 pm – July 21st

It took a while, but your heart rate steadied.

You could feel it.

Here.

This.

Your bones against his bones. This was your home.

"What're you thinking?" His lips touched your neck, a graze that sparked, hot and cold, right down to your toes.

"Been thinking about you." You raised your head and looked at him. He was smiling, the unfaltering sun glinting in his eyes. You could see his fear, hopes, and love for you like a mirror to his soul in those mountain lake-colored spheres. Then there was something else as well—something like bliss. It was a faint glow, but it was there and made you so happy. You had blessed the blessing. He deserved happiness after everything he had been through. After all the horrors he had suffered alone.

"Me?"

As you closed the gap between you two again, you nodded against his chest. Nothing was said, but you could hear his heart racing until he exhaled. It was a heavy, uneven sound, as if he might have been holding his breath for too long.

Gently, you ran your hand along his back. "How long has it been since you celebrated your birthday?" you whispered.

"Hm?" He buried his face in your hair, and his nose glided over your scalp in what appeared to be caressing movements.

It didn't take a genius to figure out when he was ducking a question. You wiggled a little to loosen his grip and looked up. Your fingers ran through the soft, silky strands. The sight of him mesmerized you. His eyes were wide and bright. His lips soft and pale. He was perfect, bare, and beautiful, holding you in his arms. Sighing, you closed your eyes. "Let me ask it this way then," you said, "How many birthdays have you missed so far?"

Nothing came out of his mouth for what seemed like an eternity. You felt him finally move. In a gentle caress, his prosthetic fingers touched your face. "150 birthdays," he whispered, his voice uneven.

Your spine tingled involuntarily. 150 years of solitude. Loneliness. Alone with himself. On this giant planet. Where was his home? Where were his friends? His lovers?

You knew he was so much better at being alone as if being alone came more naturally. He led a life of deliberate seclusion, and when occasional loneliness crept in, he knew how to sink in and absorb its particular comforts or work his way out. After all, there were always bars and saloons and strangers around.

You knew he wanted to carry the weight of life all alone, even the burden of those he once loved. It wasn't fair, though. You had to be allowed to help him carry it all. A frown formed on your face, and you inhaled, "Happy birthday #1! Happy birthday #2! Happy birthday #3!..."

His metallic forefinger stopped your lips. Slowly, you looked up to meet his eyes. His expression was sad, sweet, and filled with love. You felt something thawed inside of you as you stared at him.

"You don't have to do this," he said as he separated his finger from your lips to brush away stray strands of hair from your face. A part of you wished his finger could stay there longer.

"Shut up and let yourself celebrate! We've got at least 150 birthdays to catch up on!"

He kissed your eye, and you felt his smile on your eyelid. His lips started moving tardily when he said, "I don't—"

"Shhhh! Since you interrupted me, I'm starting over!" you snapped and continued, "Happy birthday #1! Happy birthday #2! …"

The smile on his face grew bigger and bigger, as if he was filled with so much joy that he hardly recognized himself. You couldn't recall the last time he smiled this much. It was the most pure, unburdened bliss you had ever experienced.

He held you the entire time you felicitated all his forgotten birthdays. You could see it in how he looked at you. You could feel his fears disappearing and his emotions becoming something else. Now, his touch was hot and electric against your skin. Your heart was beating faster and harder, and he didn't have to say anything. You could feel the temperature change between you.

"You," he said, staring at your mouth. He touched his nose to yours, and something inside you jolted to life. You heard your breath caught, your ears turning red, unbidden. "I love you," he whispered.

The words did something to you every time you heard them. They built something new inside of you. You swallowed hard. A fire consumed your mind. "You know," you mumbled shyly, "It never gets old hearing you say that."

Leaning you back a little, he moved, his nose brushed the line of your jaw, and his lips touched your throat. You were holding your breath, terrified to move, to leave this moment.

"I love you," he said again.

Heat filled your veins. You could feel him in your blood, his whispers overwhelming your senses.

"Vash," you said. You wanted to talk to him about what happened hours ago. You knew you should've moved and snapped out of this but couldn't. You couldn't think. And then his hand brushed against your breasts. You breathed quickly, fighting against a sudden rush of pleasure.

It was impossible to pretend anything when he was this close to you. You knew he could feel how badly you wanted him. You could feel him, too. His heat. His desire. He made no secret of what he wanted from you. What he wanted you to do to him.

He kissed you softly, wrapping his arms around you, one too cold, the other too hot. Your body shifted forward in his embrace as you took another painful, agonizing breath.

"I know you're worried," he said, his lips too close to yours and his hot breath in your mouth. "I know we have to talk, but—" He never finished that sentence. He kissed you as he reached down, trailing his fingers along the inner parts of your thighs, and the movement seared through you. Your vision went white. You heard nothing but the pounding of your heart, then you remembered.

"Vash? Um-I have to-ah," you panted, "she is waiting."

You could feel his smile as he whispered the word in your ear. His fingers were teasing your groins. "Please." And you were gone.

One hand kept your head steady, the other roamed around your loins, and he kissed and melted you. Your eyes met his, and the feeling threatened to drown you. He kissed you, and every thought and worry wicked away, replaced by the feel of his mouth against your skin, his hand claiming your body.

Holy Molly!

He eft his kisses everywhere like he knew, like he knew how desperately you needed this, needed him, needed this comfort and release.

Like he needed it, too.

Taking hold of his neck, you raised yourself up to kiss his nose, cheeks, and lips. The line of your bodies was welded together. You felt yourself dissolving, becoming pure emotion as he parted his lips, teased you, and breathed into your mouth. "I love you," he said, gasping the words.

He kissed the top of your shoulder, and his artificial hand wandered over your body, down your back, cupping your back side, lingering on your upper thighs like he wanted to memorize the shape of you, always leaving you in awe of how gentle he was. Your muscles tightened with longing, and you were surprised at how much you wanted him.

Again.

So soon.

However, you had to stop this.

"I'd better get dressed," you said, pulling yourself back, grabbing sheets, and covering yourself with them. "I've got stuff to do."

A grin spread across his face as he watched you as if he could sense your frustration. You crawled from his lap, the bedsheets catching under your knees and making you lose your composure. Like a sneaky fox, he couldn't resist taking advantage of the moment. He yanked the rest of the sheet away from you and tucked you underneath him. His weight pinned you to the mattress, a knee intentionally jammed between your legs and slowly grinding you down.

"Here's what I want for my birthday," he said, kissing your parted lips. He knew what he was doing and knew you couldn't comprehend his words. "I have this idea. Just hear me out; I think that maybe you should consider being naked all the time. I mean, just always. Okay?"

"Okay. I have to—" What were you saying? He had his mouth all over you, sucking at your breasts, licking your throat, his fingers going straight to your sensitive spots.

The moment he got there, you knew you wouldn't let him go, even if he wanted to. So, you needed to gather your wits and act before it was too late.

Think. Think. Think.

"Vash!" you gasped, pushing him up with your hand as much as possible. "I know you're going nuts like a hunk in heat," you said, holding his cheeks between your hands and staring at his big downturned eyes. "I gotta shower and go to the saloon so you can meet me there at eight, okay, good boy?" You tapped on his shoulder.

With raised eyebrows, Vash got off you, but you remained trapped between his knees. Although he crossed his arms and pretended to be mad, you could see him fighting back a smile. It was amazing how that poor piece of sheet managed to cover his hips; otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to focus on his face.

"You were going to take a shower without me?" he said sternly.

You couldn't figure out what to say for a moment and then carefully asked, "would you like to join me?"

Considering your offer, he gazed at you, up and down, with a sweet, secret smile. The look in his eyes was enough to persuade you to agree to anything. You would do anything for this man if he asked. Even if he didn't bother to ask.

"Vash."

Your heart was heavy as you whispered his name, filled with emotion. You went still as he hovered over you, gently mouthing your nipples. His kisses grow more intent, leaving a trail of fire across your chest, down your torso, and rushing through your veins.

Suddenly, you forgot why you were even in such a hurry.

Your hands slipped around his neck, and you reeled him in. He felt incredible against you, his body fitting perfectly. You tilted his face up, your hand caught somewhere behind his neck and the base of his jaw, and you kissed him softly and slowly, heat filling your blood with dangerous speed.

As one hand held him steady, the other skimmed the smooth skin of your waist, gripping your hip hard. He parted your legs with his thigh, hearing you make a desperate sound deep in your throat, and it did something to him, to feel and hear you like that, to be assaulted by your pleasure and desire. It drove him crazy.

Vash buried his face in your neck, and his hand moved up to feel your breasts' tender skin, hot, soft, and sensitive to his touch. He wanted your body under his hands, the scent of your skin, and the light whisper of your hair against his. Licking your earlobes, he tried to ignore the strain in his muscles and the hard, desperate pressure driving him towards you, toward madness.

An ache was expanding inside you and demanding more, craving him to flip you over and lose yourself in you. You clung to him, your eyes half-lidded, your face flushed. Your breathes were heavy when you said, "take me, Vash."

His eyes widened, and he stared at you like he might be going deaf and blind at the same time, hunching over from the effort of inhaling and exhaling. He said nothing and only looked at you carefully from the top, drinking you in. His pulse was wild, his mind racing. There was no way he could refuse you.

02:50 pm - July 21st

Vash stepped aside, and you pushed the sheets away when he asked you to get up. Soon you were standing in the middle of the room as he had demanded.

He couldn't look away from you and probably couldn't even hear himself think over his heart beating fast like a thud against his skull. Pinning you against the closest wall, he kissed you wild enough for you never to forget why he was called the stampede. His fingers touched every everywhere. Every bend and arc. Every pit and hole. Leaving gentle slaps and smacks on the soft skin of yours.

It was lovely to feel your soft curves against his rough edges, and somehow, the paradox between the smoothness of your bodies pressed against each other made the scene even more surreal. In order not to miss any precious time, he picked you up, and you gasped, shocked, and scrambled to hold on for dear life. He pushed the bathroom door aside with his shoulder and carried you into the shower.

He needed you. Needed this. Now. You could see it in his eyes, in the upward arch of his erection.

He drew a deep, unsteady breath before switching the tap on.

A short scream tore through your throat.

You two got soaked in cold water as he pressed your front against the shower wall, losing himself in you like never before. His kisses were more profound, more desperate, and his hands less considerate than before. The heat more explosive, and everything between you wild, raw, and vulnerable. His mouth devoured you. He had his lips all over your body, his tongue tasting new places.

With the cold tiles touching your breasts, a sensation of pleasure spread throughout your entire body. You could feel it, the bottom half of your body urging you to press against him more deeply and fully. He had to hear the pleas of every cell in your body because his next thrust was so intense that you had to hold on to the wall with your palms to steady yourself while your cheeks pressed more and more against the cold ceramic as he had his way with you.

You lost track of time.

You had no idea how long you had been here. You didn't know how long he had gone haywire in you. Your knees were starting to shake when he turned you around, and your eyes fell on his soaked hair sticking to his forehead and clumping eyelashes blinking slowly. You considered yourself lucky for not only seeing such a marvel but also tasting him and feeling him.

With such hunger, he kissed your lips like he hadn't had them in years. You felt the hard tiles press against your back as he pushed himself inside, without hesitating to move up and down. Over and over again, you were lauded, his panting echoing within four walls.

So many times that you wanted to open your mouth to protest, but every time he took one turgid nipple into his mouth. Heat surged through your blood as his teeth scraped over the end of one, and you moaned instead of complaining. You couldn't stop thinking about how good it felt to feel him inside you, his tongue twirling around your other breast.

The pressure was built. You were consumed by the need to reach the climax in every action. Your stomach muscles were tightening and quivering.

He moved his hands from your hips to your head, tangles of wet hair wrapping around his fingers as he pulled you upwards for a kiss. His tongue immediately thrust past your lips, and he increased his speed.

God! Nothing had ever tasted as good as Vash, you thought. Sensual, decadent, the flavor of him slipped through you.

His hands clenched tighter in your hair, and his teeth bit the flesh of your neck, but you barely noticed, barely caring about the hickey it would leave as he threw back his head, groaning your name. The sight of him in the throes of his peak drove you to the edge, your inner muscles clamping around his hardness, pulling him in deeper.

You cried out, clutching his shoulders so tightly that your fingernails dug into his skin, and your screams were muffled against his chest. The plunk of shower water running between your feet could be heard as your body shook, and he leaned his forehead against your head.

His hot released load was dripping and sliding down on your thighs when you collapsed into his arms, feeling weak and unsteady. He held you close to himself, tight yet so gentle, stroking your wet hair with his fingers and leaving small pecks wherever he could reach. "We should eat something," he said, kissing the curve of your shoulder and the sides of your neck.

You were intoxicated by the pure, stunning power of his emotions, endless waves of love and desire, love and kindness, love and joy, love and tenderness.

So much tenderness.

You pressed your cheek against his chest and held him as he braced himself against the wall. Your bodies were wet and heavy with feeling, your hearts pounding with something more powerful than you had ever imagined possible.

Water was dripping from the mess of his hair. So gorgeous, you thought. Then you forgot where you were and what you were going to do. Your arms and limbs trembled slightly, and he was too terrified to let you go.

Too in love to let you go.

07:15 pm - July 21st

As night fell, the blue haze of the day lifted and revealed the stars brightening the sky, shining like beams of happiness, appearing still as an old photograph. The wind blew Vash's hair into a tousled bun.

He walked out of his favorite shop and leaned against the wall with a big bag of donuts and an even bigger smile. Yeah, he perfectly knew he would eat cake, but eating donuts had nothing to do with it: a warm-up, just appetizers.

His eyes followed the long shadows of townies milling around under the flickering lamppost lights, even though he couldn't make out any faces from such afar. He liked this town. It was so small that his typhoon hadn't yet found it. Or maybe because he was a stranger here. Nobody knew him, and everybody was safe from the curse his name carried around.

Everybody but you.

You already had been spelled by those fifteen letters.

V-A-S-H-T-H-E-S-T-A-M-P-E-D-E

Taking a look around, he tried to find a clock on a building or something. The birthday boy didn't want to be late. This and, of course, the words you uttered before you left the house:

"Eight o'clock, Vash. Don't forget! Don't be late! Don't be early and wear that white shirt. See you there!"

He sighed and took a donut from the bag, careful not to stain his white shirt with his clumsiness. It smelled great. What a heavenly aroma, smelling like honey. This and you and this town. It sure felt good to see happy people around.

Without further ado, he took a bite of his sugar-coated donut.

He expected it to taste incredible and super tasty, like being alive, but he couldn't feel it. There was a sense of numbness in him. The weight of an unknown worry was heavy against his heart.

A muffled whistle-like sound echoed in the distance, followed by several. Another shot rang out, this time sounding like it was meant. Suffocating silence, creaking doors, and screams that tore the sky open.

He felt strangely dull, as if his connection with his body had been cut off. The bag fell to the ground, and the donuts scattered around. People were crying, weeping, but all he could hear was the wind's wails in his ears, slapping sharply against his face.

He took uncertain steps forward. The area outside the saloon looked like more than a graveyard. It was worse than he had expected. There were injured people everywhere; some collapsed on the ground.

From where he stood, he counted two men, one woman, and a child dead. Open eyes, mouths agape, fresh blood still dripping down limp bodies. Where were you? Something about that realization struck fear into his veins.

The horrifying possibilities flashed through his mind. His mind was blank as to what had happened. Were you okay?

Vash looked over the crowd, still staring, waiting for you to show up. Waiting for you to find him. But you weren't anywhere to be found. In the chaos, he ran from one to another, people scattered around, and he didn't see you. The terror of this moment kicked him in the gut.

So many thoughts were tangled in his head that he couldn't untie the insanity. He glanced back at the doors you were supposed to come out, opening it with a smile.

He waited. He waited longer than was reasonable. Then he called you. Quietly at first, then louder. He shouted your name. His chest was being torn apart by fear, squeezing his heart. A part of him was afraid to speak the words aloud, fearful of making them true.

His legs felt like they had been formed from fresh clay, like he was moving through a fog. His voice reached everyone, pleading this time, running forward until the doors were in his line of sight.

"Is she in?" he asked, but no one answered. Everybody was frozen by the agony of the moment. All that could be heard were silent weeps and the wind howling.

Vash gulped, his throat all dry, and walked in; his lips parted, his eyes wide and horrified. The blood in his veins all ice.

Pain.

It began at his feet, bloomed up his legs, unfurled in his stomach, and worked its way up to his throat, only to explode behind his eyes. The sudden scream ripped itself from his lungs. It wrenched free from his chest without warning, without permission, and it was a scream so loud, so hard and violent, it broke his back. His hands were pressed against his knees, his head half bent.

Echoes of his misery would never be lost in the wind or carried away by the clouds but would always live between these walls. Forever.

His voice was unfamiliar to him. The horror, shock, and dread that flooded his body was something he had never felt — never known before, not like this.

The popped balloons on the walls. A half-ruined cake on the counter. Blood-stained confetti all around. A shoeless foot lying on the floor. Locks of tousled hair slipped from the makeshift shroud.

The numbness was now merciful, at least for a few moments. Then, everything crashed.

Vash fell next to the body. The knowledge rushed up in him, choking off his breath. Another scream tore its way out. Then another, and another. It felt as if his very essence had been ripped from him.

He pulled you into his arms, clutching you tightly, barely able to breathe. His fingers seized your hair and yanked it from your face. The golden strands of his hair fell onto your bloody face. You were called over and over, but it didn't seem like anything more than a sound. His pleas were like commands, begging you to open your eyes, but you ignored them as if playing a nasty prank.

Vash held both of your hands in his. There was no touch. All he felt was an empty coldness. The silence grew even louder, consuming him like a pitch-black shadow. Biting his lip, he tasted a faint metallic taste on his tongue. The desperation in his expression, the grief carved into his features, the way he looked at you as if he were about to pass the gates of hell and utter his last farewell.

Suddenly, he wanted to laugh one of those strange, high-pitched, delusional laughs that marked the end of sanity. Because this world, he thought, had a terrible sense of humor. It always seemed to mock him, making his life more miserable and ruining his dreams by destroying everything he ever loved.

You were dead. This pain was truly real.

Vash broke apart. Sobs cracked open his chest and cried until the pain spiraled and peaked; he bawled until his head throbbed and his eyes swelled. His fingers dug into your back as he called, desperate for a sign of hope. Your hollow body was clutched to his heart, and he felt the injustice roared through him. The feeling fractured him apart. His forehead pressed against your cheek, and his mouth trembled as he whispered, "C-Come ba-ck." The words fell apart. He could only mumble stuttering sounds.

He kissed your knuckles briefly. Would you have blushed if you were still breathing, whining about how cheesy he was being? He could only imagine your reactions now.

Hot tears streamed down his face, and he squeezed his eyelids shut in an effort to make them stop. He sat there unmoving for quite some time with choppy breathing and watery eyes.

09:00 pm - July 21st

Things were in a state of disarray in his vision. People were coming in with dropped shoulders and muffled weeps in the air. Someone approached and touched his shoulder for comfort, and a fierce unknown rage emerged in him. He could kill the man there but would have to let go of you, and he couldn't.

Vash turned his face back and held you so tightly like you would be able to feel the faint beat of his heart. He wept, cradling you, and he wouldn't move nor speak a word other than your name. It was like seeing the sun through the water. His tears fell, but you wouldn't be able to kiss them away this time.

"How dare you mourn her!" Someone bent over him. "You killed her!" Weak fists landed on his back but hurt him more than torture and shots. "She died because of you! You bring misfortune and destruction everywhere you go!" yelled Rosalina with a devastated voice.

Words, he thought, were such unpredictable creatures. No gun, knife, army, or enemy could ever be more powerful than a sentence. Blades may cut and kill, but words would stab and stay, burying into the future, digging and failing to rip his skeletons from his flesh. These weren't nice things to say. Not now. Not after what he was going through. Not when his white shirt was covered in your blood, and his hands burned with the bit of warmth left in your body.

Vash continued to hold you, silent and steady, even as the tears receded, even when he began to tremble. He had you tight as his body shook, held you close when the tears started anew, held you in his arms, and stroked your hair, whispering, "Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me." His voice was a terrible thing, cracked and broken.

He felt guilty. Anyone who got close to him was doomed to die. He thought his actions and inactions always took away his loved ones. Oh, stubborn, stubborn Vash! Of course, he would blame himself for something that had nothing to do with him.

The once happy eyes of Rosalina spilled hot tears on his shirt. "For two years, you lived among us, looked into our eyes every day, and lied about who you are, Vash the Stampede!"

Several gasps were heard from the crowd, followed by whispers filling the air.

Vash the stampede was here.

Chaos.

Questions flew, and weeps were muffled. Everyone was shocked, horrified, freaking out. You had long been forgotten, he thought.

"Is he the most wanted Vash the Stampede?"

"Were there raids in the saloon because of him?"

"The bounty hunters were after the money on his head?"

"They shot us and ran away because of this man?"

"This guy really had us fooled!"

"Is this true?"

Vash's reality was too broken, too distracted to process these kinds of talks. This horrible instant was one mess of insanity in his mind. He couldn't make any sense of it. He didn't answer a word to anyone and just stroked your cold cheek with as much gentleness as he could.

Someone shouted, "What's the hell's the matter with you? Say something. At least make some excuse!"

"Shame on you for bringing danger to our town!"

"We've heard enough of your crying!"

"At least have the decency and go die like a man!"

"No normal human being could cause all these horrible things! He had to be a monster! Who else could have been responsible?"

"Did you feel some of the pain of people who died because of your reckless behaviors?"

He was dying, he thought. He must be. He thought he knew what death was like, but he must have been wrong because this was a whole different kind of dying—a whole different kind of pain.

"That girl died protecting this demon?"

"She knew about the humanoid typhoon all this time." The man gulped and pointed at your dead body. "Our loved ones are dead and hurt because of her stupid devotion to this walking disaster!"

The scene was quite unbelievable, horrifying. His mind reeled, incapable of comprehending or processing what he was hearing. Everything in him came to a halt while his thoughts caught up. It was for him that you died. The shock brought a quietness, a moment to gird his soul for what would come. Truth poured gasoline on the spark of denial in his belly, burning him alive. It fashioned itself into a knife and stabbed him in the eye. And the funny thing was, he didn't want to do anything to stop it. Anguish was all that remained of you; he embraced it with all he was. He deserved it. So he bled with a smile on his face, wishing the pain to end him this time.

"If that self-righteous whore had revealed his whereabouts, not only would she be alive now, but the others wouldn't be dead either!"

Blackness seemed to press against his eyes, ears, and throat. He couldn't breathe, hear, or see clearly, and the suffocation of the moment was so terrifying that he was almost sure he had lost his mind.

How many insults can one person take before throwing in the fucking towel? For him, that number was infinite, but for you, he wouldn't allow even one.

He stood up and grabbed a fistful of the man's shirt. He pointed a gun at the infamous criminal, but Vash ripped the gun out of his hand. "What did you say about her?" he asked with a voice like a rusty saw that wanted to cut the bone. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were burning in absolute rage. Nobody had seen him like this. Not once. People were so used to his calm and kind demeanor that this side of him scared them. If they wanted a typhoon, they'd get one. He was fortified with a new kind of anger, a desperate, animal intensity that overpowered him and forced him to stand still.

The man was trembling in his grip. "N-nothing," he finally said. Vash's pulse was racing, breathing heavily, almost like he would burst. The muscles in his hand tensed, causing him to crack his knuckles. Almost like a blazing inferno, his blood boiled in his veins, burning him from the inside out. He was mainly angry with himself, but that wouldn't stop his urge to hunt each and every single one of those bounty hunters, just to make sure they suffered and felt a lot of pain, just like he felt. No longer did he want to show sympathy to anyone. Maybe he was really a monster, wasn't he?

"If they learn your name and start haunting you, we'll run away! We'll run, run, run, and keep running as far as we have to! And when things calm down, we'll settle by their side again. You won't kill. You'll never kill anyone again, and one day, people will begin seeing you as I do."

Recalling your words, his eyes widened, and his fist loosened. The man's face was devoid of color. Vash tried to read his eyes for something but saw nothing but terror in the end. He was afraid.

No.

Your race was merciless. How could they say such a thing about one of their own? This man probably deserved the worst, but you didn't want Vash to be cruel, only to be kind. And he couldn't do this to you. Because if he did and an afterlife existed, you'd probably be the only sad person in heaven right now.

Dropping the man on the floor, Vash crushed his gun in his hand and tossed it away. The stranger was groaning and hunching over when he returned to you.

It was the first time Rosalina had seen him like this, her brain unable to digest or process this information. Unlike the man she knew, this one had cold, sharp eyes only focused on you. The look on his face was different. Scary, even. Somehow that worried her even more. She might be sad for you, even hate her people for having talked disparagingly about you; maybe she would give them a piece of her mind and grieve your loss. Maybe. Right now, though, her child's safety was her top priority, and this blood-stained man didn't look very stable.

"Listen, we don't want to die! Leave here and never come back!"

Vash sat by your side, helpless, as if something had broken inside him and all his emotions had poured out. When you left him alone, did you take some part of him with you?

"Get her out of this town. This disaster would've never happened if you hadn't stumbled into this town. She'd still be alive," Rosalina said firmly, staring at your peaceful face like you were in a deep sleep.

Vash didn't answer or even glance at the woman who wanted to help you celebrate his birthday. Like an orphan, he pulled you impossibly close, your bodies soldering together. He pondered Rosalina's words and the night he saw you and wondered whether your life would have been different if he hadn't met you. Who was even capable of answering this? As he whispered your name and begged you for forgiveness, his tears washed the blood from your cheeks, and Rosalina felt something inside her die. As she watched him willingly take all blame upon himself alone, as if he was already familiar with this feeling, she felt something break apart inside her.

Vash resembled his wanted posters now. A tall man with blond hair covered in red, but this time, it was your blood instead of his famous coat. His hands were trembling so hard he couldn't even recognize them anymore. Even so, he picked you up, cuddling you in his arms, only to notice the hickey on your neck from hours ago. Pain cramped his joints, breaking away every single bone in his body. He wanted to shriek through the sky; he wanted to fall to his knees again and sob into the ground. He didn't know why the agony wasn't finding an escape through his tears.

"Think way back. Remember that story I told you? About the man that found a blank ticket that could take him anywhere he wanted? That man is all of us. Where you go is yours to choose. You'll always have that ticket in your pocket, no matter what darkness life throws at you. When you're ready, write down the destination. I promise you. You'll be alright."

He wished Rem was right, but there was no such concept as happiness in this world. There was only endless strife, destruction, and death. There was only loneliness, pain, and regret. Whatever he did, no matter how much he pleaded, no matter how much he wished with all his heart to make things right, life always had a way of taking everything from him.

It seemed like Vash the Stampede's life had peaked, and nothing that came after you would ever matter to him. Because for him, there was before you, and there was during you, but he didn't want any after you. You were the light he never knew he needed. He was lost in the darkness, wandering life without direction. Then he found you, and you brought him warmth and light. You were the one who saved him. Twice and he couldn't do the same.

As he walked forward, he pleaded with his bones to remain steady, to carry him through the rest of the day and into the rest of his meaningless life. He passed through the crowd as if he had never been a part of them. The sand dragged under his feet, his knees weak, but he held you tight and walked away. His footprints grew smaller and smaller until there was only the empty silence of a long, lonely night.

Let's let him be for now. Everyone deserves to be left alone for a moment or two, right? Be that as it may, he always lost his most precious ones on his birthdays. Maybe it would have been better if he had never been born so that he would not have to endure so much grief alone. Or perhaps it was the way it was so we could be part of his life.

Author note: My real world had grown so dark that I didn't want to live in it. That's why I escaped and spent the day in a world darker than mine. Please accept my sincere apologies for dragging you down here with me ^_^

If you have anything to say, don't be shy to use ASK and the comment sections.

Disclaimers: This fan-written story contains quotes from "The Song of Achilles", "King Killer Chronicles", "Shatter Me" series and "Reminders of him" books, "Hamlet" play, and "I am unafraid with him" poem by pencap on Tumblr.

The arts are from "Trigun Stampede" anime.

#vash the stampede smut #vash smut #trigun smut #vash the stampede x you #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #vash the stampede fluff #vash the stampede angst #vash x reader #vash x you #vash x y/n #vash the stampede #vash stampede x reader #tristamp #trigun fanfiction #trigun stampede #vash stampede #vash the stampede x y/n #vash our beloved #tristamp vash #trigun vash #trigun 2023 #trigun 98 #vash is babygirl #vash fluff #vash saverem

[lateraniansweets]

Your forehead thing with vash blew me away cause im so in love with this man

So here are some thoughts for u :

Imagine vash and reader having a crush on each other but not saying a word. They've been traveling together for some time now,even before the gang was formed so reader knows Vash's secrets.

Think about when vash is down after some incident,and reader puts his forehead against HIS cause it always calms them down!!!

Imagine Vash's shock and then happiness about how his crush loves that part of him that's plant as well 😭😭😭

YOU!! THIS!! AA!!!!

JUST SDNFJASJFD DSAF i couldn't get to this ask now cause of school but aaaaa this is so <333333 DRIVING ME INSANE I SWEAR wrote this instead of my policy paper asefihfhi hifiihf

anyways i kinda just wnet wild with this cause ahdbfhasdbf VASH <333

You've known Vash for some time now—two or three years give or take, and travel side by side with him for almost as long as you've known him.

He's tried to get you to leave his side multiple times. Vash feared you getting hurt or worse because of him but you won't let him. Vash is stuck with you whether he likes it or not.

With the time you've spent travelling with him you've come to realise how little you actually knew about Vash. Sure you knew his favorite type of pizza, favorite color, all that stuff—all surface level stuff. Vash tended to avoid questions about his scars, how he knew so much about lost technology and how he could basically shrug off wounds that would have the average human bedridden for days.

But over time you've come to know his secrets, the mysteries of Vash the Stampede unravelling themselves to you.

Vash wasn't human but an independent Plant and he had a brother, a twin.

"I have a brother, " there's pain and guilt in his eyes, " his name's Nai—" He stops, cutting himself off, "Millions Knives, " He corrects, fingers gripping the threadbare blanket.

The inn you two were staying at was more than a little run-down but it would do. It was better than staying out in the cold desert barrens.

Finally, he turns to you, lips pressed into a thin line, "He looks a lot like me..." he pauses, lips quirking downwards, "He's the one who's been stealing Plants."

Vash left it at that. Guilt and hesitance in his eyes as he forced a smile on his face as he waves you goodnight.

The conversation regarding his brother ends right then and there. Whatever questions you have for him dies in your throat at the glimpse of his eyes.

The topic isn't brought up again until you met the man himself.

It was brief, brutal and followed by pure devastation.

Millions Knives—Nai, as Vash called him looked so much like Vash. This man looked so much like Vash—your Vash, sweet, caring Vash who could never bring himself to harm anyone, glared at you with pure unadulterated hatred.

Horror rushes through you and you find yourself stuck in your place like a deer in headlights. A chain of knives rushes out for you, with full intent to kill but you make no move to dodge.

You would've died if it weren't for Vash managing to shove you out of the way and carry you to safety like a sack of potatoes.

You didn't even realise he'd done so until Vash puts you down, telling you to stay where you are as he plastered on a reassuring smile. It looked more like he was reassuring himself than reassuring you.

The near-death experience with Vash's body-suit-wearing evil twin doesn't fully settle in until the thick blast doors shut close behind you.

The room Vash had left you in is dark, cool and cramped. A room for cleaning supplies judging by the shadowy outline of a broom.

BANG!

You jolt, curling up against the metal door and covering your ears.

There are shouts, both from Vash and Knives.

BANG!

Another gunshot.

Then another and another and another and another.

You count eight in total.

Vash emptied out an entire cylinder.

The most you've ever heard him fire.

Shouts, screams and cries from both parties but mostly Vash.

Metal twisting and bullets ricocheting.

It's gut-wrenching to hear it all.

All you could do is bite your lip and hold back tears. Opening the door and going out there would be a death sentence for you. Knives moved with inhuman speed and agility. His weapons, those knives weren't weapons made from lost tech, they moved too fluidly for that.

There's a crash outside.

"You'd..."

BANG!!

BANG!!

"...your....ther.... for-"

The metal dome of the Plant facility creaks and twists as if something is cutting the ceiling open.

"...ese... ILTHY HUMANS!"

Another set of gunshots.

"NAI!"

The metal beams of the facility creak, twist and snap. The entire room shakes as the roof of the facility is lifted by those limb-like chains of knives.

You curl into yourself further, dust and debris falling down on you.

With terror in your veins, you will yourself to look up.

Your eyes widen and your heart drops.

Vash cries out for his brother to stop but it's too late.

The facility's roof is tossed down to where the town is and the bulbed Plant is gently lifted out and stolen away.

You shut your eyes close as the giant hunk of metal lands on the town. It shakes the ground with a mighty crash.

Then...

Silence.

Your heartbeat rings in your ears as you stand with shaky legs, blood running down from a long cut on your forearm. You force open the closet door, and you're met with an empty and destroyed Plant chamber.

There are bullet casings scattered on the ground and metal beams jutting out everywhere.

You find Vash at the centre of it all, standing shellshocked where the Plant and its bulb were once kept.

"Vash...?" You call out, a hand reaching out for him.

He doesn't answer.

You call out his name again, concern and fear lacing your voice.

"Mayfly?" Vash turns around and your heart breaks.

A lone tear slides down his cheek, his eyes hidden in the orange tint of his sunglasses.

You close the gap between you and him, pulling him into your arms.

Cupping his face, you gently lift the sunglasses to unveil his blue eyes holding back tears. He breathes out your name in a sob and your heart shatters further. "Oh, Vash..."

Another tear escapes from his eyes. Gently and lovingly you wipe it with your thumb.

"I...I..."

You know what he'll say all too well.

You meet his eyes, "You deserve to cry, Vash."

"No no, I don't..." his voice quivers, "I-This is my fau-"

"It's not your fault Vash."

"You don't understand, ____. Because of me Nai-" he chokes out a strangled sob, croaking out words of self-blame. Vash's breathing quickens and his body shakes in your hold.

You call out his name again and again but he doesn't respond, spiralling down the rabbit hole of self-blame and self-immolation.

"Vash," you whisper, pulling him down so his forehead is pressing against yours.

"Vash," you can only pray that this would work.

This was something he did to you when you were sick or upset. You figured it was a Plant thing seeing as he does something similar when he heals his sisters.

"____"

Vash utters your name, and you let out a sigh of relief.

"Vash."

He leans forward, pressing your foreheads closer. You could see the faint blue glow of the Plant markings on his eyes.

"I love you," The three words come out as easily as breathing. "I love you so much," you press a kiss, soft and chaste on his lips.

"It wasn't your fault, Vash," you repeat and the damn inside him breaks. He sobs silently, tears flowing, his gun dropping to his side with a metallic clack. "None of this was."

You hold him close for who knows how long, holding him as he sobbed and let his tears flow.

When Vash wipes away his snot and tears, it's well into the night. He separates himself from you, the light on his markings fading away. He opens his mouth, an apology ready to be released but you cut him off before he could.

Once again you press your forehead against his, standing on your tippy toes, "I love you, Vash. All of you."

I love you, all that you are and all the burdens you carry, I love you.

THIS MAN MAKES ME

I LOVE HIM SM AAAA

okay this concept with Nai tho

#trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #^asks #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #tristamp x reader #i want him to hold me gently and I want to hold him gently

[lovelynim]

Take 9, recording!

ALIEN STAGE/Actors!AU - Ivan x Till

A/N: Really, really self-indulgent fic because I NEEDED to get some fluff after the damage Round 6 did to me. Also, I added a little hc that TIll is an experience actor while Ivan is still a newbie, etc, etc, you know the drill

Also, tagging @blobbirobbi, @norieoncrack and @vash-yuu because you three gave me the boost to do it this afternoon. Also tagging @tiredleekaz because i feel you'll like this (hopefully)

Summary: Round 6's recording site. Stage scene. Take... 9, sigh. Lights, camera... action!

Word count: 1305 words.

“Alright, let’s do it, guys!” The director shouted and the rest of the team promptly took their places. The camera pointed towards Till and Ivan as the studio was quickly engulfed by silence.

“Here we go… ‘Cure’, stage scene, take 9. Action,” the director commanded and the first beats of the song began to play right after. The spotlight turned to Till and, so, it began.

“Allow me, to the tip of your fingers. Allow me, to the ends of your feet.”

Ivan quietly hummed the song along while the cameras tilted around the other man, capturing the crowd’s motion in the background while Till’s voice took all the room in the studio. Ivan knew the team was tired and probably beginning to feel a little frustrated after a couple of mistakes, but he couldn’t help but enjoy every moment of it.

“Dissolve me in your gaze. I don’t want to let you go.”

‘Damn, he looks so cool right now’, Ivan thought as a smirk took place in his lips. The song went on and Ivan knew he had to focus. This was supposed to be a dramatic, emotional, tragic scene. He couldn’t be booping to the song they spent hours recording. Focus, Ivan, focus!

As Till continued to sing, Ivan decided it was a good time to rehearsal his lines. Maybe this would put him back in the right mood for this scene and, after all, he didn’t want to start the 10th take because he made the same mistake from 4 takes ago.

“Let me drown in you, until these falling stars are buried in the blur of time!”

Wait, was he at that part already?

Ivan opened his eyes and looked at the other guy with a slightly shocked expression. Gulping, he clenched his hands as he heard the piano keys starting to play in the background again. Time to shine, Ivan.

With heavy steps, Ivan walked towards his microphone. The camera was tilting right above him and it was a bit hard to keep a straight face, but he had to!

“Even if your cold words carve scars beneath my eyes.”

Carefully and gently, Ivan took his hands up and wrapped his fingers around the microphone. Holding it tightly, one word after the other left his lips and, as scripted, he was singing.

“May they linger on your tongue. You can break me apart.”

Narrowed eyes stared back at the camera in front of him. To the ones looking from the outside, Ivan seemed like the most confident actor in history, literally living up to his character. But on the inside, he couldn’t help but feel some nervousness stirring up. What if he sang the wrong line? What if he looked ugly on the recording? What if his voice cracked?!

No, it wasn’t time to think about those things. He managed to look at Till with the corner of his eyes and, even when he was idling, the sorrowful, tired look continued to stick to his face. So professional!

“Sick of those nights to come, to be engulfed by silence in your gaze where I’m seen. Consume me! Yes, me, oh oh!! ~”

Ivan would only be sure once they were done recording this scene, but he was almost 100% he nailed this part. He could feel his vocal chords slightly tiring, but nowhere near enough to make him stop.

And above anything else, the most important scene of this episode was coming up. The kiss.

“To this everlasting moment.”

“Face to face we dance.”

Ivan let out a small sigh as his last line was sung. Just as the words left his lips, the pages of the script started playing inside his head. ‘With a decisive move, you throw your microphone aside and walk to him’, he remembered the director explaining, detailing how it should be done.

“With our story lost in forever’s embrace!! ~”

Ivan felt literally chills running up his back when his eyes met Till’s. As a newbie actor, starring with someone as experienced as him was always an emotional rollercoaster, full of surprising moments that he would treasure forever. But not now. Now, he needed to focus.

Gently reaching for the other guy’s cheek, Ivan moved his hand to the back of Till’s head and pulled him into a kiss.

Part of himself questioned if he was supposed to enjoy recording this part over and over as much as he was doing, but knowing how annoyed the rest of the studio’s staff was at his mistakes, he would never voice such thoughts.

The instrumental played along with the flashing lights above them. Ivan only remembered the instructions that he should make the kiss last while Till would try to shove him away, but the director never said how, so there shouldn’t be much harm in improvising a little, right?

Ivan wrapped his free hand around Till’s slim torso, resting his fingers just below the other’s ribcage. Till pressed both hands against his chest, trying to push him away like the script told him to, but Ivan knew this wasn’t the lead to let him go, so he pulled the other man for another kiss.

However, there was something off. 

He was told that, yes, Till was going to try to break their kiss and free himself, but it shouldn’t be… this effective, Ivan thought. Deciding that it would be better to just play along, Ivan moved his hand down to Till’s neck while the other pressed a little harder against his side, hoping this would be enough to keep him still to the end of the scene.

But with barely seconds before the time for the score to pop up above their heads and show his character’s demise, Ivan noticed that Till… was laughing?

“Pfft- d-duhuhude!” TIll giggled, elbowing his arm in another attempt to free himself from his embrace. “Q-quit tihihickling, ahaha!”

“H-huh?” Ivan blinked, looking down to the little space between their bodies and taking a few seconds to realize what the other guy meant. “Wait, you mean this?”

“GyAHah, y-yes! Thahat, d-don’t dohohoh it! I’m tihihicklish there!” Till laughed, throwing his head back (and maybe trusting a little too much in Ivan’s strength to hold him in place).

A fuzzy, warm feeling spread over Ivan’s chest as he heard those words. What a wonderful discovery! How could he not notice this before?! “Ahah, sorry… I mean, I didn’t expect this or this to be enough to tickle you, Till, ~” Ivan teased, carelessly spidering his fingers against Till’s side and ribs.

Before he realized, there were them again: fooling in the middle of the set. Till laughing, desperately trying to escape his hug while the only worry inside Ivan’s mind was to find where else his senior would be ticklish.

“Ivan! C’mohohon!” Till laughed while the lights of the studio turned back on, illuminating the whole scene again as this take was already beyond salvation. “I cahahan’t breheheathe!”

“Oh? But you are-”

“Guys!” The director protested, making the duo stop in the middle of the scene with a surprised look on their faces. Right, they were recording. And with people around them. A lot of people. “Sigh, let’s take a break, yeah? Five minutes, everybody.”

Despite the feeling of animosity towards them that seemed to spread across the rest of the staff, Ivan couldn’t stop himself from smiling and, much to his delight, the same seemed to go for Till.

“S-sorry, ahah, this one is my fault,” Till giggled as he got back into his own feet, rubbing his side where Ivan just tickled him. “Try to just, hmm… Hold my face?”

“Got it, I will keep that in mind,” Ivan hummed happily while walking off the stage by TIll’s side. Well, guess they couldn’t do much but wait for the next take now, right?

#alien stage #alien stage tickling #ivan #till #ivantill #lee!till #ticklish!till #ler!ivan #tickle fic #alien stage au

[drunkenlionwrites]

Since you started with uncanny Vash, may we have some smut with him? 👀

Hey nonnie, you order - I deliver! Not sure how it turned out, it's pretty experimental this time 😶 Warnings: fem!reader, alien sex, Vash is basically a plant on steroids here. Written with Trimax Vash in mind.

You woke up in your bed alone, feeling the coldness of the sheets on Vash’s side. It was a familiar enough occurrence for you though, having been Vash’s ‘mayfly’ for an alarmingly long time, all his habits were carved and stored in the back of your mind. Sometimes, like now, you wake up alone in a cold bed just to find Vash sulking somewhere alone, being overwhelmed by his heavy thoughts, sometimes you are literally buried in Vash’s body, sturdy appendages sprouted out of him encaging you safely. It all strangely brought you comfort, whereas other people might be rightfully shitlessly scared.

So now you find yourself barefoot and wrapped in a blanket, traversing the hotel’s wooden floor, which is creaking pitifully under each step of yours. And here he is, standing on the open balcony, surrounded by the rhythmic buzzing of the bugs-filled sky, the sight of his fluttering blond-black hair catching your gaze.

“Hey handsome.” you gently murmur to him, which gets you a greeting by his glowing eyes and barely visible tired smile. “Care to join me in bed? It’s awfully empty without you.” Walking up to him, you hug him from behind, burying your head into his wide back after pressing a tender kiss there. The warmth of your body already brings you more comfort than a thick woolen blanket did. You feel how tense his muscles are, and you instantly know that he’s been having nightmares again and now, losing the ability to fall back asleep, is contemplating the thoughts he’s too reclusive to share even with you.

“I’ll come soon. Just don’t feel like sleeping now” and one more fake smile is directed at you. You’re aware of him knowing that you see through each of them, but the habit developed during more than a century is hard to get rid of.

You huff at his retort, determined to not let him be isolated with his reflections, so you squeeze him tighter in your embrace and mumble “Who was talking about sleeping, silly?” Seems like it worked, cause the next moment you feel the movement of his ribcage, Vash chuckling at your suggestion. “Hey, I’m serious. I really need you right now!” you pouted, and even if it is primarily a not so smooth plan to distract your boyfriend from sulking, it’s also true – there’s not a moment in your life when you don’t want him.

He turns to face you, murmuring “Who am I to refuse my prettiest girl then?” taking you into his arms, now cocooned in the blanket like a baby. You use the closeness to his face to press loving kisses to his warm soft lips while he’s carrying you to bed. And Lord, he is so fucking strong, carrying you as if you’re a feather, his muscles barely flexing under your weight.

He plops you on the bed with a soft thud and immediately crawls onto it, not giving you any time to untangle yourself from the damned blanket. Vash smiles at you with a toothy smile, his gaze already predatory, as he methodically unwraps you like a Christmas gift, getting you out of the blanket and then getting rid of your night shirt and panties. His hands are everywhere, both unnaturally smooth – the polished prosthetic one, as well as his own which feels like silk on the sides of your body.

You provide him with the same attention, tugging the shirt off his shoulders to allow you access to his hot skin, the contrast between the ideal porcelain untouched spots of his skin balanced by cracks and grooves of his scars under your fingertips. It would be a definite lie to say that it doesn’t add to his attractiveness in your eyes.

When he shifts his weight and presses his body on top of yours, you hastily tug on his joggers and try to pry them off his hips to glide your palms lower and lower, squeezing his soft ass, knowing that each time it makes him elicit a yelp that you enjoy so much. His eyes are sparkling with mischief as he slowly glides his fingers in between your folds a few times, just to insert both fingers inside your already sleek with arousal pussy. And you know that it’s his petty revenge, but oh how you love it.

You moan his name and press your pelvis closer to him, wrapping your legs behind his hips, wanting to feel as much of his body as possible. Vash grinds against you, and though the space between his legs is just a smooth patch of skin, it still makes you feel even more aroused. “That’s what you wanted, baby? To be fucked back into sleep?” he lewdly whispers into your ear as his fingers curl inside of you, precisely hitting the spot that makes you scream in his hands. He bites your earlobe and moves his face up to look into your eyes and then presses his forehead to yours.

And that makes you completely engrossed in what is happening to you. This is what you’ve been longing for, the one thing that completely ruined you for everyone besides your lover. The sensation of doubled and then tripled emotions and feelings that your weakened brain can barely process. You now feel Vash’s rapture and elation, wrapped in physical sensation of his thick long fingers abusing your pussy perceived by him, finishing with your own corporal pleasure, which now will forever seem the lesser one of those. Vash moans and pants into your mouth, experiencing the pleasure through you, his body is rapidly covering by feathers upon feathers, that now tickle your skin. Not that you can register it, totally lost in the echo of feelings.

His body shifts and morphs, losing the contours of a humanoid creature now, only his fingers remaining the same, moving back and forth inside you, the thumb barely applying a pressure to your clit. But his mind and soul are nothing but human, now you know it. In moments like these you know Vash as if it was you, and you let him know you as if you are him. You are connected so deeply, that it both scares you and makes you want to completely dissolve and disappear in him. This is not making love; this is completely melding in each other. And now he’s your God, he’s your Universe, and you don’t need know anything else except Vash.

You weakly mewl and shudder underneath him, your breaths now completely synchronized, hell, your bodies are completely synchronized and now you are one breathing and feeling organism that’s slowly bringing each other to your release. Vash moans with you once you start clenching around his fingers. You are so close, yet you dread for the moment to end, which Vash registers and consoles you immediately, chuckling at how needy you are.

Just a hard press of his thumb to your clit and a few strokes on the inside of your pussy with additional pressure and you’re done. Shuddering at feeling everything at once. All this love and tenderness, all the longing and arousal, all the ultimately divine pleasure…you really want to dissolve into Vash completely one day.

So a bit of my thoughts about this here: I've been thinking, especially after writing general headcanons for uncanny Vash, what if he doesn't have human bodily functions at all? He doesn't sweat, he doesn't have any thermoregulation at all, he has no need for sleep or nourishing, his skin doesn't have pores and doesnt produce melanin etc. So what does he need the human-like reproductive systen for? Independent plants are the anomaly, what if they can be birthed only from a regular mother-plant? All's possible. So, here Vash is telepathically connecting to reader and kinda experiences his orgasm through her, while at the same time she immediately feels: 1. her regular physical sensations, 2. Vash's feelings and reaction to her, 3. her orgasm that is perceived by Vash. So it's basically triple orgasm, enveloped in all kinds of entwined feelings? Won't it be cool? ahah Also, I know that someone somewhere said that Vash's plant powers work only for plants, but we literally have a lot of instances where humans perceive Vash's and Knives' feelings telepathically: 1. Leonof and Wolfwood feel Vash's rage and pain at Home after Leonoff turned the people there into puppets and after Vash cried blood. Wolfwood thinks how he can't even move, while Leonof is comparing Vash to knives and notes how not human they both are.

They totally perceived all Vash's emotions on physical level. He just stood there doing and saying nothing, yet Leonof and co felt like they just died.

2. I forgot the chapter, but Eldendira was explaning to someone the effect of Knives' presence on regular humans. Something like that his aura is heavy and dreadful and physically palpable, but Gung-Ho-Guns got used to it, and Elendira copes with it the best. 3. Not twins, but in the end of manga all the falling plants transferred all their memories and emotions to thousands and thousands of people, thus they all can thelepathically influence humans in the end 🤷‍♂️ Peace out 🤞

#vash x reader #vash x you #vash x y.n #vash smut #vash headcanons #trigun headcanons #trigun smut #vash the stampede #no beta we die like rem #trigun x you #uncanny vash #creature vash #lion writes

[mediocreanomaly]

Mermaid vash with s/o human reader

I feel like Vash would court the reader by giving them random "lost" stuff that he found from people that dropped things in the ocean, like bottles, broken camera, jewelry, a random knive. Anything shiny and cool looking ends up in the reader's hands from Vash. He'd be very happy if the reader accepts the gifts but if the reader gives him something? Any thoughts gone, Vash is malfunctioning.

Just thought this would be a cute idea

Authors Note: Guys please I'm a creature lover at heart don't get me started on these prompts- (joking please get me started on these prompts mer!Vash makes me happy)

Mer!Vash x Reader HC's

•Vash is extremely interested in humans. Think...Ariel lmao. Although humans are known for trying to poach merfolk (their scales and fins are extremely valuable) he can't help but love them!

•He does his best to stay hidden as he follows along boats from afar to watch the crew work during the day or play cards and drink at night. He sits on far away rocks on beaches to watch the humans splash in the water and sunbathe on the beach. Basically if he can watch humans somewhere he'll be there

•Which is why when you became the newest light house keeper for the port, you were the perfect human for Vash to watch

•It was perfect, the light house was far enough from the actual port that he could lay on the rocks with out being seen, he'd watch you through the light house windows, he'd watch when you'd leave to dip your feet in the water or sit on the rocks to watch the horizon. It became Vash's new favorite pass time so it was only a matter of time before you noticed your fishy companion

•When you first see him his lower body is in the water, only his head sits out watching you, you blink and begin approaching him thinking it's someone who's swam too close to the rocks

"Hey! This might not be the best place to swim there's lots of rocks and the actual swimmers beach is-" you pause caught off guard when, a couple steps in, you see a long red and orange tail gleaming in the water. You lose your balance and fall in the shallow water screaming-

"ahhh!" "ahhh!" the merman mimics back in your voice, which only concerns you more and...leads you to scream again, "ahhh!!!" "ahhh!!!"

•This whole mimicking thing seems to go back and forth for about two more screams before you settle. You catch your breath as you stare at the merman who just watches you curiously not making a move to leave

•You had heard of merfolk, everyone had but it was rare to see them unless you were a poacher and even then merfolk were famous for sinking the ships that were after them. You had met a cocky sailor once who had tried to boast by showing off a few mermaid scales he has sliced off some mermaid he was tracking but it had only disgusted you thinking about how terrified the poor girl must've been

•Although as you carfully look over the merman in front of you it doesn't look like this one has had any better luck, winding scars paint his chest and it seems he's missing an arm...you wearily glance up to the blue eyes watching you, you're pretty sure merfolks were supposed to have silted iris but this merman's pupils are blown wide with curiosity

"...so...can you copy anything I say?" you ask, "...so...can you copy anything I say?" He repeats in your voice, which...is admittedly a bit creepy but he makes a pleased trill noise after he shows off

"Right...so you uh, have a name?" you ask, the merman nods eagerly then pauses looking a little sad before smiling and saying "Vash!" in a woman's voice you've never heard before

•You come to realize that Vash can mimic pretty much any sound as long as he's heard it before. You assume it's some sort of hunting tactic which scared you a bit until you realized he mostly used it to mimic the noises of other sea animals to bring them closer, so it seemed humans were not on the merfolk menu

•Vash comes around pretty much everyday, trying to communicate through half phrases he had heard and various chirps and trills you often had to decode the message of. Luckily he was very expressive so it helped with the context

•You find Vash loves human things, you even started bringing him foods after he snatched a bag of donuts from your hand one morning. So you eat most your meals out by the rocks now, not that you mind. The life of a light house keeper was a lonely one, so you were glad for the company as unconventional as it may be

•The two of you actually become close, or...as close as a human and merman can get you guess? Only issue for you is you don't seem to realize how close you actually are

•Vash has decided. You'd be the perfect mate. You're a good swimmer (for a human), you provide food (donuts), and it only confirms it in his head when one day he makes and happy chirp noise and you jokingly try to mimic it back the same way he does, not realizing it's a show of affection in the merfolk world

•So Vash takes it upon himself to begin courting you. You know how I said think Ariel when you think about Vash? Yeah he has a little cave in the ocean that he just collects trinkets in. Pennies, jewelry, screws, knives, if it shimmers he's picked it up and stashed it away. Which is why he's sure he'll be very good at scavenging to show you how good of a mate he would make!

•It starts off slow, when you're sitting on the rocks with Vash and he hands you a small shiny quarter. You glance up at him as he watches you eagerly waiting for a response. You smile and run your hand through his wet hair

"For me?" you hum, he makes an affirmative trill, tail slapping against the rock excitedly

"Well thank you, it's very nice Vash"

•Then the next day he brings you a necklace he found which you please him by wearing, something that just confirms his courting is working. Then he brings you and old camera, then a bottle, then a whole sword which you go wide eyed at when your smiling blonde companion pulls it out of the water

•You aren't 100% sure why Vash feels the need to bring you things but you enjoy the collection of shells, sand dollars, and shiny objects he leaves you. Although you feel a little bad that, besides the snacks you offer him, you haven't ever given him a gift

•So you go to the market the next day trying to find something. You didn't really know if Vash had a home to keep anything big in...where did merfolk live anyways? You'd have to ask Vash next time you saw him- and you're getting distracted.

•You sigh almost giving up when a stall that glimmers in the sun catches your eye. Perfect! Vash loved shiny things! You run over to the stall to see what they have when your gaze lands on a gold ear ring. The whole "one ear ring" look was becoming popular among sailors but...Vash liked mimicking humans, maybe he'd like this?

•You quickly buy it (in part thanks to all the spare change Vash leaves in your hands every morning) and head back out to the light house

•When you get there Vash has already pushed himself up on the rocks waiting for you. He makes a pleased trill noise and greets you with a "Good morning!" in your own voice. You chuckle and carfully climb your way over to his spot and sit down

"Good morning to you too! Hold out your hand!" You urge as you dig in your bag for your gift, Vash gives a curious look and tilts his head letting out a questioning "vrr?"

"please? c'mon it's good surprise promise" you say, he nods not one to deny you and holds out his hand. You press the gold ear ring into his palm and smile at him.

"so? do you like it? ...Vash? uh...Vash?" You try to wave your hand in front of his face but his eyes are locked on the trinket, as if completely shocked. His face is...also going a very bright shade of red the longer he looks at it- did you break him?

"Vash if you don't like it-" before you can finish that thought he quickly makes a panicked chirp when you go to grab it out of his hand and dives into the water leaving you wondering what just happened

•Vash meanwhile is running his fingers over the metal of the ear ring over and over again. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected a courting gift from you! This was so embarrassing! To accept courting advances was one thing but to be so bold as to court back? He never expected you to be so forward! Well...that just confirmed you wanted to be his mate...and that he'd have to up his courting tactics to really impress you

•After about a half hour of sitting bewildered at the mermans reaction you finally spot him as he peaks his head out of the water and- oh! he's wearing the gold ear ring, the hoop hanging from his right ear

"Vash! I almost thought you left for the day" you sigh padding into the water after him, he shakes his head and makes a cooing noise before repeating "Hold out your hand!" just as you had earlier

"hmm? oh you didn't have to get me something too but okay" You relent holding out your hand, expecting more change or something shiny-

"ahhhh!" you scream as a a live fish about as big as your arm is dropped into your hands. You fumble and drop it, the fish flops around before darting away as soon as it hits the water. Vash frowns, this...was going to be harder than he thought.

#vash x reader #vash x you #trigun x reader #mer!vash #Trimaid? #Mergun? #Yeah that doesn't sound right #mer!vash x reader

[trigunwritings]

Because that’s what love is

Summary: Only one bed. But too many bullets.

Rating: Teen

Relationship: GN!Reader/Vash

Written by @blood--hunter

As with with everything in No Man’s Land the inn room is cramped and sweltering. Even with the slowly setting sun, the heat does little to abade. Not until the moons rise will it subside, and then the cold will come thundering in, causing whomever is left out in the desert to find a way to warm themselves in the caustic environment.

But not you. Not tonight.

Tonight you are safe in a little room on the edge of nowhere.

With Vash as a roommate.

Okay, maybe more than a roommate.

Whatever was going on between you two had lasted for several weeks at this point. There was a sort of—a sort of tension? Small touches of the shoulder. A gentelness to the eyes. A warmth to the cheeks that wasn’t caused by the sun.

It was so thick that the others had started to take notice over the past few days.

Roberto would roll his eyes whenever Vash said your name in that special way of his and Meryl tried to ignore in completely. She would stammer and turn her eyes away whenever the two of you got too close.

Wolfwood however ... Wolfwood was another matter.

He had been the one to set up the room accommodations. Everyone had gotten their own... Save for you and Vash.

The two of you were to share a single, tiny bed because of him.

When confronted, Wolfwood had simply hefted his gun higher on his back, cigarette coming dangerously close to falling from his lips as he smiled at you.

“What? You two are together, ain’t’chya?”

The silence that had fallen had been his answer.

“Well ... guess not.” And he had walked away as if he hadn’t blurted out what everyone had been thinking. Your face had been so warm that you thought it might explode—burst into flames even—but you had managed to scramble up the stairs with what was left of your dignity and stumble into the room.

And here you were. Deciding whether or not you should go out to the car and sleep in the back seat like you had been doing for the past several days.

No! You weren’t a child! You would face this like an adult!

You jump. There’s a knock at the door and Vash peeks his head in.

“Hey,” he says, though, with how well you know him, you can sense the tension in his voice, “Heard we were bunking together tonight!”

There’s a forced cheeriness to his voice and you find yourself swallowing at it.

So he’s just as nervous as you.

“Yeah!” Oh god, you sound just like him now, “I figured I could sleep on the floor and-”

“No way! I can sleep on the floor, it’s not a problem.” He waves his hand in front of his face, dropping his bag beside the door. Next, he takes off his red hoodie, hanging it on the little hook beside said door.

The bed itself was small, no way two people could lay on it super comfortably. But neither of you were going to give up easily.

“Here,” you say, “I’ll take a shower and then you can get set up on the bed and—”

“-No!”

“—Then it’ll be fair!”

Vash pouts visibly at you, but you’re already on your way through the door to the bathroom and closing it behind you before he can argue further.

Several minutes pass of you washing yourself, getting cleaned of all the sand and dirt that could pile onto you while on the desert. It takes ages of scrubbing but after a while you can see your natural skin color again and it satisfies you enough to get out of the tub.

Problem. Your stuff and Vash’s stuff were mixed together in his bag. The one by the door.

You could bang your head against a wall. You’d been so quick to get to the bathroom before Vash you hadn’t grabbed a different set of clothes.

Okay. Be an adult about this.

Wrapping the towel securely around yourself you peek your head out of the door.

“Hey Vash can—“

The words get stuck in your throat. Vash is half naked in the bedroom, his shirt gone. You can see where the metal of his arm meets the flesh of his body. There are scars littered across him. Some are so deep and vast they have to be covered with bit of metal. Some almost look like autopsy scars. Some are still raw bullet holes. Had he been taking damage this entire time?

Vash’s head snaps to you, eyes wide and glasses gone.

You both stare at each other for a long time. The silence echoing.

“Can you pass me some clothes?” You finally say, nodding towards the bag.

Vash doesn’t say a word, simply taking the one step towards the bag and digging out some clothes for you. One cannot afford pajamas in the desert, so it’s just another set of day clothes that are relatively clean. You’re grateful when cloth meets your hand and you dive back inside the bathroom, letting the door click shut.

Holy Shit.

You almost vocalize it but Vash could still very well be on the otherside of the door.

You slide down until your butt meets the floor, your elbows resting on your knees.

There should be a miriad of thoughts going through your head. Most of them focused on how absolutely mortifying that situation had been for the both of you.

But instead all you can think of is if Vash has been hiding the bullets from you. Had he been hurt this whole time? Some of those wounds had looked fresh.

Your thoughts swirl for a few minutes more before you become concious of the fact that you should be dressed and out by now. Vash probably thinks you’re hiding from him, that you’re disgusted by him. The thought makes you hop up from the floor and slap your clothes on so quickly you must look like a wreck as you fling open the bathroom door.

“DO YOU NEED A BATH?!”

You cringe. Vash stares at you, now dressed, from the floor. During your time in the bathroom he had made himself a little sleeping spot, several pillows and blankets piled beside the bed.

“Uh,” He scratches at the back of his neck, “Sure?”

Wait. No mention of what you had seen? Was he just going to—

“—Don’t just ignore it!” You squawk in the most undignified tone your voice had ever taken.

Vash chuckles, “Ignore what?” But you can see it in his eyes. There’s a deep sadness behind them that makes the blue just a tiny bit darker.

“...Vash...”

“I think it’s best we move on—”

“—How many?”

“What?”

“How many times have you been shot and not said anything? How many times did you sew yourself back together without anyone noticing?”

The small smile that is ever present on his lips, falls. “Please Vash, just tell me.”

“Too many to count.”

The words hit you like a bullet to the shoulder.

“Oh god—”

Vash holds up a hand, waving it slightly, “But it’s not like I died or anything, really it’s not a—”

“—It is too a big deal! Don’t say it isn’t!”

You should be worried that the others can hear you, your voice thundering through the walls like a clap of lightening, but you can’t, not in this moment. You can see, more than feel, the tears forming at the edge of your periphereal.

And then Vash is there too.

“Hey, c’mon, no need to be worried about a guy like me.”

You manage to speak passed the lump in you throat, “Don’t tell me what to do...” And there it is. You sound like a child stamping their foot instead of a worried friend—or whatever you two were.

Vash uses his thumb to press away the forming tears. “Lets get to bed.”

And that’s how you both find yourselves curled up on the floor together. Neither of you wishes to take the soft mattress from the other so it ends in a stalemate. There is not bumbling this time as you both lay down to sleep, not awkward pauses or stolen glances. The air is thick with something unsaid but neither of you is able to grasp it and bring it down to earth.

In the silence of the night, after your tears have dried but before the cloud of your argument has blown away, Vash turns to you in your sleep.

“I just didn’t want to worry you.”

He presses a piece of hair away from your face so he can see you better in the dim moonlight of the window.

But you would worry anyways, regardless of how much he hid from you.

Because that’s what love is.

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun x reader #vash the stampede #sfw #writing #sfw fic #fic #vash fic #vash x reader #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #blood--hunter #otherswriting #long post #longpost

[gojoed]

I SEE THE SAME. | vash x reader. | 1.9k words.

“Did you really think letting them shoot you was a good idea.”

A wince was let loose in the otherwise quiet room. The only noise was the bustle from the town outside, even if it was night, and the static voices of the small radio that Vash always carried. Dim lights made it a little hard but not impossible to see his fresh wound.

Thankfully the bullet only grazed his waist, not getting lodged or going straight through him like other unfortunate instances. But it was still bleeding and if it were up to Vash, he’d let it continue so. But thankfully you were here, so that wasn’t happening tonight.

Sighing, you set down the first aid supplies down on the desk that was positioned near the bed and set yourself down on the chair, wheeling your way over to where Vash was. Seated on the bed, with his head held low and eyes that were shielded by his sunset tinted glasses. His blood seemed to seep through his black turtleneck more, he wasn’t applying any pressure to the wound whatsoever. 

Being a plant yourself, you understood that you both healed quicker than a human, but still it seemed unwise to just leave it like that.

Waving your hand in an upwards motion, you silently told Vash to lift his shirt. He obeyed, lifting it on the side that the wound presided. Vash leaned himself back slightly against the heel of his mechanical hand, while his flesh one held onto the fabric.

Unscrewing the cap from its bottle, you tilted it against a clean rag, letting the water soak it slightly before moving the bottle upright and setting it down on the desk. You moved your hand with the rag over to his exposed waist, but let it hover as you looked up at Vash, asking for permission. 

The glare of the desk light reflected against his glasses in a way that blocked his eyes from view. But he offered a smile, one that felt empty, as if saying “yes.” 

You didn’t need his glasses to be off to know that his eyes would give him away. Guilt. It was one of the most frequent emotions you always could see swimming within him. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and by God, Vash’s was drowning. 

Brushing those thoughts away, you bent forward, slouching a bit to dab at the bullet wound. The bleeding had stopped on its own, that’s good. Vash twitched a little when your free hand placed itself on the skin of his stomach, moving his shirt up. He lifted his arm a bit more.

There he goes again, helping others before himself.

“You know, you didn’t answer my question.”

He stiffened up a bit, but then relaxed as a small chuckle escaped his lips. 

“Well.. it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Your brows furrowed. Vash has had that “good idea” plenty of times during these hundred years or so. The evidence being the canvas of scars that was his body. Just how many more times would he allow himself to be hurt like this, you wondered. Knowing him, he wouldn’t stop, not with the insane amount of guilt that he always seemed to have. 

Once you were satisfied with your work, you tossed the rag onto the bed beside him and grabbed the bandages that were on the table. Ripping the package open with your fingers you placed a bit of medical tape to the free end. Leaving that on the bed for a moment, you placed a piece of gauze on the bullet wound before reaching for the bandages again when you saw that Vash had already gotten it. 

You whispered a small “thank you” for which you got a soft “anytime” from him as you placed the tape on his skin, beginning to wrap the bandages around him. 

Straightening your back you leaned closer to fit the bandages snuggly around his waist; which Vash then prompted to open his legs wider, moving the chair with one of them to move you along with it. Placing you directly in front of him in between his legs. 

Thankfully the wound wasn’t too severe, so you didn’t have to worry about using too much bandage. You had just bought it too, having restocked in town an hour prior to crashing in a pretty decent hotel. The townsfolk didn’t seem to recognize Vash from the wanted paper floating around, so you considered Lady Luck to be on your side. 

Finished with the bandages you cut it off, placing another piece of tape on it to then press it down lightly. You blew out a bit of air through your nose, looking at your handiwork. 

“Ok, all done Vash.”

“Thank you.” 

Looking up you saw him staring at you, glasses gone. He must have taken them off while you were fixated on wrapping him up. 

“Anytime.” You parroted his words back to him.

Light blue eyes made contact with yours before they didn’t, his eyes closing to give you another smile. It seemed a little empty this time. But he still must be thinking about the events that happened in the town before this one. Quite a bit of collateral damage was done to the town, as a result of bounty hunters having spotted you both and decided to see if they could get that sixty billion double dollar prize on their dirty hands. 

There weren’t any casualties to add to the mountain of guilt and shame Vash carried, but there were still injuries. Not to mention that the town’s plant was almost damaged thanks to the recklessness of those bounty hunters. And one of the townspeople who did harbor resentment towards Vash, caused him to have yet another scar. One that you had just cleaned up.

Did Vash really think letting people take their anger out on him would solve anything?

Leaning back onto the chair, it squeaked under the weight of your back. You crossed your arms and sat there, patiently. 

“You’re still thinking about them, huh?”

Vash makes a little noise akin to a squeak. He knows you caught him, and he doesn’t deny it. Opening his eyes you could tell they were a little watery, tears threatening to spill. But he just sniffled and laughed softly. Running a hand through his mop of hair he looked at you.

“Yeah, I am.” 

You were waiting for it.

“But.. I don’t deserve to cry.”

Ah, there it is.

Those same words that you’ve heard countless times as well as the countless times you’ve seen him worry over others than himself. He wanted to cry, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to. To him, it was his inability to act that denied him of such rights. Funny, how he also thinks the actions of his brother are also his fault. 

Uncrossing your arms, you reached for both his hands. You would think that his prosthetic arm would be cold to the touch, being made of Lost Technology. But no, it was warm, just like his hand made of flesh. 

Your actions were unexpected for Vash, and it made him even more confused (but curious) as to why you not only grabbed his hands, but when you followed that with holding yours against his. Palm to palm, each of your hands held in the middle of you both. You lined your fingers up with his, his being a little larger than yours but you didn’t mind. In fact it was one of his traits that you loved about him. The same hands that could hold a gun and pull a trigger were the same ones that held onto your own when traveling in the dunes of the desert.

“What do you see?”

Vash blinked. Once, then again. His tears had subsided slightly so he could see clearer. Looking down at where you two were making contact, he said:

“Well, I see our hands.”

The tone in which his voice was laced with made you laugh, almost snorting.

“Okay, that’s a little obvious. So, what do you notice about them?”

He cocked an eyebrow upwards slightly, biting his bottom lip a little bit. Vash’s hair bounced a bit, as he also moved his head a bit to the side.

“They’re.. They’re like mine.”

“Bingo! If I had some, I might have given you a golden star, y’know.”

That made Vash laugh, his usual cheerful self peeking out a bit now. 

“Okay, what else do you notice about them?” You swayed your hands together, as if doing so would make the answer come easier to him.

“We each have the same amount of fingers?”

“Right on, we both have ten to be exact!”

It was your turn to give him a smile, looking him right in the eyes. But he didn’t meet them, he knew if he looked at them he would break down in an instant. So he kept his eyes on his hands that were connected to yours, he liked the way it felt.

“What else do we have that are the same?”

The comfort he felt was disturbed just a pinch when you intertwined your fingers with his and swayed them side to side, moving both your arms in the process.

“We have two arms!” Vash straightened his back a bit more, your zeal seeming to be infectious and he was your victim. 

It only wavered a little bit when your hands left him too soon, now pointing a finger rather delicately at his face.

“What do we have here that’s the same?”

Vash continued to list off whatever he found that he shared with you. If he said eyes, your fingers would touch right under them. When he said a nose, he chuckled when you booped him, letting your finger stay on the tip. He mirrors your actions, touching wherever you touch him except on you. He let his hands cup your cheeks like you did to him, he let his fingers gently graze your lips just as you did to his.

Vash felt his shoulders relax, the tension slowly releasing. But he felt them quiver when you leaned your forehead against his and closed your eyes.

“See, we’re not so different from everyone else right? So if they can cry, if I can cry, then that means you can too.”

Biting his lip he resisted the urge to let the tears fall, but he broke when your hands returned to his and squeezed. Only then did he let a broken sound come out of his equally broken soul. His eyebrows scrunched while he sobbed, the pain in his ribs came and went as his own cries racked within them. Vash wished he could stop, but how could he? When you were the one who pried him open and let the damn fall. 

You switched positions, pulling him into a hug so he could bury his face into the crook of your neck. It was a little awkward on your end thanks to the chair but you didn’t mind, didn’t care. All that mattered to you was that Vash let the pain leak out just like the tears did. 

It took him a few minutes to stop, his chest jumping thanks to the surprising force his sobs contained. He sniffled as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Vash broke the hug first, but returned to placing his forehead against yours and having your hands hold his. 

“So.. I’m thinking pizza and donuts, what do ya say?”

Vash’s laugh broke the nonexistent tension, it sounded a little broken but he smiled. Really smiled.

“I like the way you think.”

© boo-kugo on tumblr. please don’t copy or post my work on other accounts, websites, or platforms.

#my writing #vash <33 #vash the stampede #vash #vash x reader #vash x you #vash x y/n #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun stampede fic #trigun stampede fluff #trigun stampede comfort #trigun fic #trigun fluff #trigun fanfiction #happy easter i guess LMAO #hope you guys enjoy #oh right #vash x gn!reader #there really is no definite gender for the reader so #vash x plant!reader #also i did say vash fic soon... so this is soon

[miamochi-writes]

You’re Actually Kinda Cute

Synopsis: The reader is trying to shake off some cops who are after them. As the reader hides, they bump into a certain Humanoid Typhoon. Also I stumbled onto Trigun TikTok and found a certain *ahem* audio that gave me Vash brainrot (Comment if you know what I’m talking about). I definitely see Trimax Vash saying this, but I can also imagine Tristamp Vash doing this as well. A girl can dream! I live for this man’s smile 🤧 Enjoy!

“Stop right there! You can’t escape!” 

The cops were hot on your trail. You ran with all your might and knocked down some furniture to slow them down. This was another typical day of your life as a fugitive. Your crime? Talking back to a cop who was cheating in a game of cards. You saw how the cops were scamming people at the bar. They practically hid their cards in their sleeves to win the double dollars. The minute you pointed out how the cops were cheating, you became the most wanted in their eyes tonight. In your defense, you couldn’t stand cops to begin with. No matter what city you visited, the system was corrupt. The people struggling to survive were punished with the most minuscule crimes. Meanwhile, the cops do whatever they please if it means breaking the law. It wasn’t your fault you wanted to make things fair. But because of this mentality, that ended up with them putting your face on a couple of wanted posters in a few cities.

Now you were running away from the law again. Thankfully, the people at the bar gave you enough time to run as they held the cops off. You spotted a hotel and figured you could shake them off there. You ran up the stairs and through the empty halls. You threw some items behind you as you kept running faster. Despite your head start, you were running out of breath. If you didn’t act now, the cops would catch up to you soon. You kept going until you saw a hotel room slightly open. Without hesitation, you ran inside and closed the door. You held your breath and remained silent. Things were silent until you heard incoming heavy footsteps running past the door. The loud footsteps faded as they sounded farther away. Seconds turned into minutes. Not taking a risk, you stayed quiet until you heard yelling.

“Hey! I saw someone running down the stairs. It must be them! Don’t let ‘em escape!” one of the cops shouted. You slowly peered into the peephole to scope the area outside. Sure enough, the two cops that were after you ran past the door. Once their footsteps faded, you waited an extra few seconds until you were met with silence once more. You let out a sigh of relief. Another day of successfully evading the law once again. At least for a few seconds that is.

You heard the door knob turning from inside the hotel room. Your breath hitched as you failed to realize the consequences of your actions. Who’s hotel room did you enter in? Depending on who it was can determine how your night will end. Either going back home or getting caught by the cops. In a state of panic, you rushed inside what seemed to be the closet of the hotel room. You were going to close the door, but you were too late.

Standing before you was a tall blonde man with the most beautiful blue eyes you have ever seen. He was wearing gray sweatpants, and only sweatpants. The man was practically topless, which showed his scarred yet toned chest and abdominals. The only thing covering his chest would be the towel draped over his shoulders. Judging his attire (or lack thereof) and wet hair, he finished showering.

“Well hello there,” the man spoke.

‘Oh no he’s hot,’ you screamed internally at the mess you had gotten yourself into. 

“Uh I can explain, just please hear me out before you do anything else,” you begged. As you looked closer, you saw his prosthetic hand. Then you looked at his face once more and wondered why he looked so familiar. Finally, it dawned on you.

“You’re Vash the Stampede!” you thought out loud as your eyes widened. Vash was taken aback by your statement as he looked tense.

“So you know little ol’ me huh?” he chuckled lightly while flashing you a nervous smile.

“Of course I do! I’m just surprised you booked a hotel room with little to no trouble,” you answered. You knew how much he was worth, and he stood out like a sore thumb from the people with his looks and attire.

“I have my ways, but I could say the same to you. I don’t understand how you got in here my vicious little friend. It’s a mystery to me,” he said. 

“Hey, I’m not vicious!” you countered.

“I mean you barged into my room,” he reasoned. Okay, he had a point. You did walk into that one, literally.

“Okay, fair enough. But in my defense, you left your door open. I casually walked in,” you argued. 

“Really? I’m pretty sure I locked it,” he reasoned.

“No, it was pretty wide open. Or else, you would have seen some wear and tear of me getting in if it was closed,” you replied. He looked around his room and then at the door. Sure enough nothing looked broken. 

“Okay, well why did you come in then?” he questioned.

“I was trying to get away from the cops,” you answered. 

“Sounds like something a vicious person would do,” he added with a smile. You panicked at his response as you tried to explain yourself.

“Okay hear me out! I didn’t do anything wrong! In my defense, they were in the wrong for cheating people out of their money. Not my fault they were mad at me for pointing out how rigged things were,” you reasoned. You started explaining your situation to him from beginning to end. Plus, you mentioned to him how the people at the bar were trying to help you escape.

“See, the local townsfolk were on my side. I at least stopped them from getting their money stolen! If I was vicious, I would have turned you in to the cops by now. To be honest, I have no reason to,” you insisted.

“Wait, you aren’t going to turn me in? You’re not scared of me?” he asked as you shook your head.

“Can I ask why?” he added. You gave it some thought as you crossed your arms. You managed to talk to the blonde for this long without anything bad happening. It was a long shot, but it was better to try than not try at all.

“Because I know you’re not really an outlaw or vicious person like most people say. If you were, you would have either turned me in or hurt me by now. Am I wrong?” you asked that last part. You watched Vash’s facial expressions closely. Your answer must have taken him by surprise as he was still quiet. But his body was more relaxed compared to earlier. He then gestured for you to continue.

“I know you are on countless wanted posters, have a huge bounty on your head, and have many rumors about your crimes. But they’re just rumors, not testimonials. When I traveled to different cities, I bumped into people who mentioned good things about you. Some say you helped escort them, protect them, buy them a meal, reunite them with family, and so much more. I think that speaks volumes compared to what the law says about you,” you continued with a small smile. As you spoke, you noticed Vash’s gaze towards you softened. His blue eyes almost looked as if they were gleaming from the way the hotel lights hit him. You could see a smile make its way through his lips. Maybe he was thinking about the people he helped in the past and who exactly you bumped into.

“I see, so tell me something...uh-” Vash added.

“It’s Y/n,” you introduced yourself. After talking with Vash for this long, you felt comfortable enough to give him your name. Call it a gut feeling, but you bet that you gained his trust at this point.

“Y/n, last thing I wanted to ask you before I make my final decision. I’m sure you noticed I’m covered in scars. In fact, I’m pretty sure I have more than the average person. Tell me this, you’re still not afraid of me? Even after seeing these scars? Usually, most people run once they see this side of me,” he asked.

“Well, I guess I’m not most people. I won’t lie. It’s concerning to see that many. Yet, everyone gets scars. It’s a part of life. I talked to some folks who told me you fought many tough battles. When they say you’re willing to protect people, you must mean it. Those scars tell me that you care deeply for people. Much more than the law. So I admire that,” you acknowledge. While talking, you never broke eye contact with him. Everything you said was true and came from the heart. You never thought you would meet Vash in person, let alone in a hotel room where he’s topless. But anytime people spoke highly of him, the more you believed that he was a good person. You figured he was a kind, but misunderstood soul. The way he spoke, his demeanor, and body language said as much.

“So after everything you heard, do you still think I’m vicious enough to where the cops should take me?” you asked.

“Oh, I already knew you weren’t a vicious person to begin with. I could tell by the way you talked to me early on,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“WHAT?!” you asked as he chuckled.

“Sorry about that. It’s rare for me to bump into people like this. Since you were honest with me, I’ll tell you this. You’re actually kinda cute Y/n. Especially when you tried explaining yourself,” he complimented with a genuine smile as his eyes crinkled with joy.

It should be illegal for him to make that kind of face and compliment you so easily. Oh sure, people told you how kind and funny he was. Yet, no one warned you about his charms at all. Your cheeks were flushed, your heart quickened, and your head was spinning. Your looked away as your tried to cover your cheeks with your hands. If only the ground could swallow you whole so he didn’t have to see you like this.

���You made me go through all that. Then you come at me with a compliment with no warning. I think I’ll take my leave,” you said quite flustered. You couldn’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with him.

“Y/n wait! You sure you don’t want to stay here for a little longer? You know, just in case the cops are still looking for you? I really did like talking to you. I promise, no more funny business on my end,” Vash offered. You pondered at the thought. It was too tempting to pass up.

“Sure, just until the coast is clear. So enough about me. Tell me something I don’t know about the real Vash,” you replied. Sure enough, the blonde’s smile grew wider as he patted a seat on the bed.

“Where do I even begin!” he chimed in.

@daschstuff @sharkalina666 @keigoswifeyysblog @anoukli @blankpapersblog @bunnigrimm @usuallynana @ryuukami4

#vash x reader #vash x you #vash x y/n #trigun fic #vash the stampede #vash #trimax #tristamp #trigun x reader #trigun x you #trigun x y/n #trigun #trigun maximum #trigun vash #trigun stampede #miamochi writes

[fruitsoxs]

the last anon holyshit <33333 maybe for Vash too?

of course!! he's such a loser I love him <3

pairings: vash x (gender neutral) reader

warnings: !nsfw minors dni! , masturbating , descriptions of moaning, all that fun stuff

notes: this took me forever lol. no beta again im praying there aren't any errors

It’s almost like a breath of fresh air slumping down onto the bed after a long day of wandering through the desert. Vash’s back hits the mattress and he lets out a soft sigh, closing his eyes. Originally he was planning on slinking down to the bar to let loose a little, but he found himself just too tired to drink with strangers.  He was expecting you to be in here when he wandered in, but the room seemed empty. The only hint that you hadn’t escaped to join the others is the running water Vash can hear from the bathroom. You must be taking a shower. He was hoping to catch some one on one time with you before he passes out for the night, but he can wait until morning. 

He starts peeling off his boots, followed by his jacket. He considers taking off his shirt. It’s not like you haven’t seen his scars before, but he’s just not sure. His fingers drift down to the bottom hem of the tight black shirt he wears, hesitating to pull it all the way off. He’s just about to find the courage when a noise from the bathroom pulls his attention away.

“F-Fuck-” Your voice echos through the room, causing Vash’s face to flush. 

At first he feels a bit panicked. Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? He’s by the door, about to open it and save you.However, a high pitched whine makes the worried man stop in his tracks. That didn’t sound like a pained whimper at all. No, that was…a sound that can only come from one thing.

Vash’s face turns completely red as the noises continue. Each louder than the last. He definitely should not be listening to this. You probably thought you were alone! Yet, his feet stay planted just outside the bathroom. His eyes shift to the door into the inn room. It would be so easy to just walk out, and pretend he never heard a thing.

The sweet noises you’re making are almost too much to bear though. His pants seem to be growing uncomfortably tight. Would it hurt to just stay for a little bit? After all, it’s unfair that you’re making such beautiful noises without an audience. He bites the inside of his cheek as his hand runs down to palm himself through his pants gently.

You let out a loud moan, and Vash finds himself pushing against his dick a little harder. The friction isn’t enough to satisfy him, but he’s scared to go any further. He wishes he could see what you’re doing to yourself. His brain is full of a sweet fog that makes his thoughts run wild. Are you standing up, or are you sitting down? The water must be running off your body so nicely. He’s always wondered what you looked like underneath your clothes. Probably perfect. 

You’re always so perfect.

His hand slips between the waistline of his pants, clutching desperately at himself. His breaths are coming out ragged, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration with his lips parted slightly. You call out to god in a way that has him humping his hand. He wants to be the one making you moan like that. He wants to taste you.

His cheeks are bright pink now. His metal arm is pressed against the bathroom door, holding the frame so tightly he’s sure there will be a handprint there. He doesn’t care though. He’s chasing the high that only you can bring him.

“Oh- Vash~”

His brain goes a bit fuzzy, and although his body screams at him to cum right there, he doesn’t. Did you just say his name? That can’t be right. He presses his ear against the door, his dick throbbing. “Vash please~” You say his name again. His eyes are wide, and his hand falls back around his cock. His body is now pressed against the door as you repeat his name over and over. It’s music to his ears.

He lets out a soft grunt and then…

The door opens.

He falls against the cool ground of the bathroom with a thump. He holds out his arms, but he barely has time to catch himself. He’s so glad he didn’t take his dick out now.  You let out a soft squeal  from inside the shower, and rip open the curtains. Vash turns his head just in time to make eye contact with you. Your eyes are still wide, and a little dilated. Your cheeks are so pink, and the water is running off your hair and onto your bare shoulders. His eyes drift down, until he realizes that he’s currently looking at you completely in the nude.

He lets out his own yelp, and covers his eyes. His face is completely red now.

“Va-Vash? I thought you were gonna go get a drink!” You exclaim, hiding yourself behind the curtain. He lets out a shy chuckle. “I uh- I changed my mind.” He explains, his eyes still covered. There’s an awkward silence before you finally ask. “Did you hear everything?” 

He doesn’t say anything for a second. His heart is beating so fast. 

“Uh yeah.” he finally mumbles, letting his hands drop so he can see you again. You look embarrassed. He doesn’t want that. “I…kind of enjoyed it?” Oh no he sounds like a creep! You smile though, and let the shower curtain fall away. “Well…maybe you want to…join me then?” you ask.

His eyes widen, but he’s up in an instant. He tears off his clothes without a second thought as you giggle and pull him in to join you. 

You probably won’t be needing that second bed anymore. 

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash smut #requests

[whirlwindimagines]

Vash stitching up a wound on his s/o and just him taking care of them! Please and thank you!

First, I just wanted to say ugh I’m not good with medical stuff lol I have no idea how stitches work! So, I tried my best, but here ya go! Also established relationship, because I said so!

'If something's wrong, you can count on me'

Vash x Reader

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here in this hotel bathroom with a rag pressed to your brow. Vash didn’t say much when he left you here in search of a med kit, just to keep pressure on the cut, so that’s just what you plan to do. It was a good cut, the knife had barely missed your eye, instead slicing perfectly over your eyebrow and up to your temple. The fight had happened quickly as they always do, you hadn’t even realized you were bleeding until Vash frantically started fussing over you. 

With a sigh, you lean back against the sink, pressing the rag harder into the wound. It stings but it's something to focus on, other than the fact that one this will probably leave a scar, and two…. Vash might need to stitch it, and the thought of stitches on your face like that? Gave you the shivers. 

Vash walked into the bathroom with a slight smile, holding the med kit up like a trophy, “Front desk had one!” he said cheerfully, but you can tell by the slight rise of his voice that he’s just putting on a show for you. He’s upset about this, you getting hurt. It's not like it was even really your fault, and you doubt he’s actually upset at you, more so the whole situation. Vash places the med kit on the counter, and then pats the counter, “Here sit up here.” 

You do what you are told, nerves a little all over to place to argue, he helps you up on the counter, and you spread your legs to accommodate him so he can step closer. “Do you think it will scar?” it's not that your mind, but you don’t know what else to say to him. Carefully Vash grabs your wrist to remove the rag, and he gives you a small smile, “Maybe a little one, but you’ll look just as beautiful” his tone is soft, and you can’t help but roll your eyes good-naturedly. 

He was better at this, the softer moments… the sweetness. It was all still so new, and it sometimes made you nervous. “Haha.” You huff out, as he works on cleaning the wound, it stings, but you let him do what he has to. It's quiet again, but it’s not uncomfortable by any means. You ask your next dreaded question, “Will it need stitches?” he pauses, he seems to be thinking his answer over, before giving you a sheepish smile. “Oh…just a few.” You groan leaning back and away, but he doesn’t let you get far with a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“I promise to be as gentle as possible!” Vash reassures quickly, you know he knows how to stitch a wound, that’s not the problem, you trust him…you’re just a little squeamish when it came to needles is all. With another groan you close your eyes, you do not want to see the needle coming towards your face! And place your hands on top of your thighs clenching them into fists. “Just be quick.” Is all you have to say, Vash places a hand over one of yours squeezing it lightly, “I promise to be very careful with your pretty face.” 

“Compliments will get you nowhere.” You reply, but you are glad he is simply trying to lighten the mood. As he pulls back with a soft laugh, getting all the supplies ready, you keep your eyes closed. You don’t know how long he takes to get ready, feels like an eternity before he pats your hand again, it’s the only warning you get when you feel the slight pinch of the needle going through your skin, it makes your breath hitch. 

“Don’t worry, you are doing just fine Stardust.” He reassures, making sure to keep talking to you during the whole ordeal. You are definitely not listening, your hands shaking and trying not to think about a needle going through your skin, as promised it doesn’t take him very long and you're thankful for it.   

“Are you done?” You ask, still not wanting to open your eyes, you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle seeing the stitches in your face, the thought makes you a little sick. “Just let me put a bandage over it,” Vash replies softly, he is very gentle as he covers the stitches with a bandage, you are just glad that it’s all over. You hear Vash place things around the counter, and then your breath hitches when he places his hands on either side of your face and brings you in for a soft kiss. 

Letting out a surprised, but pleased hum you lean in to continue the kiss. Once he pulls back you open your eyes, Vash is looking at you gently, leaning in to kiss the bandage lightly which gets a laugh out of you. Hopping off the counter, you turn to face the sink to look in the mirror. Leaning your hands on the sink to look closer at yourself. “Doesn’t look too bad, does it?” 

Vash wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Not at all, see I told you I would do a good job!” You meet his eyes through the mirror, it's not like you ever doubted him, you were just…nervous about the whole ordeal in general. Vash kisses your shoulder, he doesn’t say anything for a second, just holding you carefully. 

“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” Vash whispers, you don’t say anything for a moment, it was a stupid accident, and neither of you even started the fight this time. It was just the wrong place at the wrong time, that was it. Sighing you think about what to say, “It’s just a small cut Vash, nothing to worry about, it will heal with time.” You tell him gently, Vash just hums holding you tight. You just let him hold you for as long as he needs. Before he pulls back, placing a kiss on the side of your head. 

“Let's just lay down for the rest of the night,” Vash says pulling you out of the bathroom and towards, and how could you refuse that? You let Vash lead you over to the bed helping you settle down in the bed, it's not like you need him to do all this. But you know it makes Vash feel better, taking care of you like this, so you just let him. 

Once both of you were settled on the bed, Vash pulls you close to himself, just holding you in his arms. You can’t help but smile resting your head on his chest, as Vash runs a hand through your hair. “Thank you.” You say softly, for stitching up your wound, to taking care of you, just all of it “You don’t thank me.” Vash replies placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

“I want to take care of you, it puts me at ease.” He continues softly, and his sweet words make your heart race just a little bit faster. Unsure what to say, you just wrap your arms around his waist just keeping as close as possible to him, the two of you hold each other in silence. You can’t keep the smile off your face, as you just enjoy being held by Vash. Yeah, the knife to the face hurt a lot, but ending the night like this? It was just perfect.  

#vash imagines #vash x reader #vash x you #vash x y/n #vash the stampede x y/n #vash the stampede x you #vash the stampede x reader #trigun fic #trigun x reader #trigun x you #trigun stampede x you #trigun stampede x reader

[anyasathenaeum]

Hey there again! I wanna ask for Vash x reader who also has a ton of scars from various sources (fights, accidents, stray cats, etc.) and is a bit nervous about how he might react to them. Twist is, they actually kinda like their scars and personally think they're actually kinda pretty on a good day. They like finding little patterns in them. It's only other people's reactions they're insecure about. They also make sure Vash knows they're entirely non-judgmental about his scars and think he's absolutely beautiful. Hope this isn't too long of an ask fjfifjcusisj thank u <3

Constellations on Your Skin

Pairing: Vash x reader

A/N: As somebody who's got scars and actually thinks they're cool, I LOVE this prompt! It's not too long an ask at all, thank you for requesting!! Hopefully this is sorta what you were hoping for??

You never really understood why other people made you so nervous with respect to your scars. Sure, you had plenty of them, and you genuinely found them beautiful on the odd day, but why did the idea of other people seeing them make you wanna hide and never come out?

And Vash... Vash, of all people, made you nervous.

'But why? He's literally the nicest guy, so why does he make you nervous about your scars?' You thought to yourself, trying to piece it together.

'Maybe because he'll never look at you the same way ever again,' a little voice whispered from within, making a shiver go down your back - you didn't want to picture that.

"Hey, (Y/N)? You okay? You've been super quiet and you look troubled," Vash's voice interrupted your thoughts, causing you to look up quickly. Vash stood in front of you, looking down at you with a gently-concerned expression.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine, Vash. Thanks for checking, but I promise I'm alright," You brushed him off, offering him a smile you hope he'd buy as a distraction.

Clearly, though, Vash knew better than that. A slight frown appeared on his face and he sat down in the sand next to you, watching you carefully.

"I don't know about that. You've had an awfully serious look on your face for a little while, and it looks like something's bothering you. You know you can talk to me about anything, right, (Y/N)?"

Vash's tone was gentle, and you could see the kindness and genuine worry in his eyes as he spoke to you. You never really understood how he could continue being so kind and genuine after all the horrible things that had happened to him.

You let out a soft sigh, thinking a bit to yourself, weighing your options - would it be worth just voicing your fears out in the open? In front of Vash? Would that take away some of the weight of your fears? Or would it just confirm them and leave you feeling like you wished you could disappear?

"Y-You don't have to tell me!" Vash let out a small, nervous laugh, "I-I just wanted to make sure you knew you had somebody to talk to if you needed to!"

You just shook your head quickly, "No, no! It's not that, Vash. I-" You swallowed hard, a weak smile appearing on your lips, "I'm just trying to figure out if I'm brave enough to actually talk about what's bothering me."

Vash just smiled at you, scooching closer to you and nudging your shoulder gently with his, "Aww, don't be so hard on yourself, (Y/N). You're plenty brave, no question about that!"

You let out a soft laugh at that, and somehow, just that small action and single interaction gave you the strength to do something you didn't really ever do around others - you rolled up your sleeves.

Your skin was marked with several scars, some older and faded, some newer and more visible, and of all different origins. Vash's eyes widened as his gaze landed on your scars, and you could see them flitting from scar to scar, taking them in.

"I've got a lot of these, from all sorts of situations," You explained softly, looking down at your skin, smiling softly to yourself, "Fights, accidents, even just stray animals who didn't trust me much, they're all here. Don't get me wrong, I actually like my scars. I think they can be beautiful sometimes - telling my stories to those who see them and reminding me I've survived through a lot. The problem is... others who see them don't think the same way I do. They look at me differently once they see them."

"What do you mean?" Vash asked softly, his eyes leaving your skin to look into your eyes as he asked, "How do people see you once they've seen your scars?"

You shrugged slightly, rolling your sleeves back down, "They pity me. Or treat me like I'm made of glass and that I'll shatter if they look at me wrong. I just... am always afraid of how people will react when they see my scars."

"Constellations."

"What?" You looked at Vash, your eyebrows raising in confusion.

Vash simply smiled, before extending his hand out to you, silently asking you to give him your hand. Slowly, you extended your hand to him and before you could register what was happening, Vash gently rolled your sleeve back up and began tracing patterns across your skin, connecting scars to each other.

"See? They're constellations!" Vash just grinned at you warmly, and you couldn't help but smile at him in return as he continued to explain, "You've got constellations on your skin."

After a moment, you began to laugh softly, more to yourself than out loud, "I do that, too. I draw patterns on my skin sometimes. It... makes me happier about them. Makes me feel like they're not so bad."

"They're part of you. And that makes them beautiful."

You looked up at Vash as he said that, heat rising to your face as he smiled at you.

"D-Do you really think so?" You asked quietly, your gaze meeting his.

Vash just nodded, his smile only widening, "Of course. They're part of you, (Y/N), how could they be anything but beautiful? They're you."

You only felt the heat intensifying in your face as you replied, "Thank you, Vash... that's kind of you to say. I-I was really scared of what you would think when you saw them."

Vash's eyes widened, "You were nervous because of me? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel like-"

"No, no!" You cut him off immediately, shaking your head, "It's nothing you did, Vash, I promise! You've been wonderful about everything, and extremely sweet, it's just my own fear."

Vash just looked at you, the expression on his face telling you that he wasn't entirely convinced, so you just sighed out, "I-I guess... I just didn't want you to treat me or think of me differently. You're one of the best people I know, and it would hurt the most if you did end up treating me differently. Not that you would! I just..."

You trailed off, grasping as straws as you tried to figure out how to get across that you didn't blame Vash for your fears.

"I have a lot of scars, too."

Vash's voice was so quiet that you almost didn't hear him. You glanced over at him, your eyes wide as he continued to speak,

"I'm covered in them. I don't like people seeing them, either. It's... embarrassing. I've got a lot of scars."

"Constellations."

Now it was Vash's turn to look at you in confusion, causing you to smile gently at him just as he had at you.

"You've got a lot of constellations, Vash," You explained, smiling at him, "Just like me. We both have a lot of constellations on our skin. Your scars are distinctly part of you, Vash, and they're beautiful because they're a part of you. You're beautiful, truly. More so than I think you know or will ever let yourself believe. So, if you ever need reminding, I'll be there to do just that."

Vash just took in your words, the very same he had given you just minutes prior, suddenly seeing them in a new light. A gentle blush spread across his cheeks as Vash felt his heart fluttering in his chest, a small smile appearing on his lips. Maybe, just maybe, for once, he'd let himself believe you.

"Thank you, (Y/N)."

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun x reader #trigun stampede x reader #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #anya's athenaeum

[novasintheroom]

Hi! First of all, I adore your writing and wanted to ask, could I request a short drabble/one-shot of either Vash or Wolfwood reacting to y/n's past self-harm scars? I've been feeling a little down lately and your work brings me so much comfort. Of course only if you're comfortable about writing with such request in mind! Thank you

Scars

♡ Pairing - Wolfwood x Reader

♡ Word count - 1.3k

♡ Warnings - mentions of past self-harm, scars

♡ Description: It's a hard night, remembering what's in the past.

A/N: Thank you for this request! I hope I did it justice. The research I did on writing for SH generally said to not glamorize it, so I hope that makes sense for the descriptions I chose to use.

For anyone struggling with self-harm or suicidal thoughts, please reach out to professionals for help. Dial 988 if you're in the U.S. to talk to someone, or text HOME to 741741 (again if you're in the U.S.).

They’re dim in dying light. Sometimes red, sometimes silver. Jagged. Some crisscross like battle lines, others are just there like a monster came by and left its mark over and over again on your arms.

You tug down your sleeves when Nico walks back into camp.

“Well,” he says, looking self-satisfied, “looks like the others are trekking to the town to get supplies. We get to guard the car.” He looks at you mischievously. “We’re all alone.”

You give him a shaky smile, mind still flicking the images of your scars through its eye. Nico scoots over to where you’re sitting on your bag of supplies and leans a shoulder against yours. “Sooo…” he reaches for your arm.

You stand suddenly, and Nico is left fumbling, trying not to fall into the sand. “I’ll go get the wood out of the trunk.” Nico stares up at you, dumbfounded and suspicious. Lamely, you say, “it’s getting cold tonight.” You flee before he can say anything, though you still hear him grumble.

The wood is splintery and dry. It scratches at your sleeves, poking at your soft skin and you try to not spiral, try to put on a brave face as you dig out space in the sand and line the logs one by one, then the scraps of junk and paper for kindling. Nico goes about getting food out of the truck. Just because you two were left behind didn’t mean you had a free night. It was time to cook dinner and have it ready for everyone when they get back.

Once the food is cooking, however, Nico’s attention is back on you. He smiles through his smoke, blue-gray in the firelight. “So, can I sit by my girlfriend, or are you gonna run again?”

Your shoulders hunch at being called out. “I didn’t run!” Even your voice sounds petulant, and you give him a half-hearted glare as he squats by you again.

“Oh, sorry, I meant flee for your life.” He slaps your arm good-naturedly and sits next to you on his own supplies. “Just warn me next time, almost got a mouthful of sand for dinner.”

You hum, deigning to watch the fire flicker and burn. Nico smiles and pulls you close, and you let him, leaning into his chest, and readjusting your seat. You’re careful to keep your hands away from him, not wanting a repeat of earlier.

For the next half hour, Nico soothes you into comfort. You talk together about the day, the gripes you have, and what you’re planning on doing tomorrow (likely a whole lot of driving again). It’s easy, talking with him. He’s a natural conversationalist and cracks enough jokes to have you laughing in the night.

He’s also one to not let something go if it bothers him. Eventually, he pulls you close and whispers in your ear, “So you wanna tell me why me touching your arms is bugging you tonight?”

Damn him. He’s too observant for his own good. You squirm under his scrutiny, feeling a sweat work up on your neck. “I’m not…” you start.

“Doll.” His voice is firm. Still gentle, but he’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

So you sigh, and slowly, you pull up an arm sleeve. It’d nearly killed you all day, wearing the sleeves instead of your usual tank top, but that’s the price to pay for insecurity sometimes. The cooling desert air is a balm to your overheated skin. Still, an ugly frown marks your face. There they are. The scars. “It’s…a hard day today.” You admit.

Nico hums, rubbing your shoulder and looking at the scars. You feel your skin crawl, knowing he’s seeing them. Doesn’t matter how often he does, it’s still a point of shame for you. You pull your sleeve back down, and you feel hotter for it, the cold of the air no longer helping relieve the heat.

But Nico doesn’t let you hide this time. Instead, he grabs your arm and pulls the sleeve up again.

“Nico,” you warn.

He still pulls. Your scars breathe air again. You can feel each one of them, like worms crawling under your skin. It itches. They’re long healed over, the scabs are months gone, but they still itch tonight.

Nico thumbs over them softly. Each one. It helps the itchiness a little. He doesn’t kiss them, like he does sometimes. His gaze is sad, and far too real for your liking. “I wish you loved yourself like I love you,” he finally says.

A pit drops in your stomach. You pull your arm from him and turn away. You don’t know what to say, but you feel mad. Angry. “I do love myself,” you bite.

Nico stares at your back. Do you? You still pull the sleeve back down, rubbing at the scarring underneath. “I don’t mean the scars, hon. I mean I wish you’d let me love you – all of you.” He carefully places a hand on your back and rubs it. “Scars and all.”

You feel your shoulders shake as you hold back tears. This was a lot. Too much. You didn’t want to talk about this. Yet your mouth opens, and you say, “It’s always going to be there. They’re always going to be there.” The warble in your voice cracks at the end.

Nico turns your head back to him with two fingers. He sighs, takes a long drag of his cigarette, and lets it hang in the corner of his mouth. “What’s makin’ you think this?”

What doesn’t? When you see the clear arms of other women, when others wear jackets just because they’re cold. Your lip wobbles, and you look down. “They’re ugly,” you finally sob. “Y-You shouldn’t have to look at them every time we…do anything. Hug, kiss, they’re just…always there, always staring at me, and you hate them too, I can see it, you – “

“Hey, hey, shh…” Nico pulls you close as he can and rubs your hair, your sobs shaking your shoulders and tears staining his jacket. “Now, what’d I say about putting words in my mouth?” He chuckles a bit sadly. “You’re breaking my heart here, doll. I don’t hate ‘em.”

You don’t believe him. Not really. You pull back and give him a frown. “You’re just saying that.”

He sighs again and looks away. Pulls out another cigarette – the last one going out – and lights it. His hand stays on your shoulder, making sure you don’t pull away. “They’re not glamorous,” he says, blowing smoke at the stars. “Shouldn’t be. But they’re part of you now. Shows you survived a lot your mind tried to put you through.” He leans forward and nods at your scars. “That’s more than a lot of people can say. Can’t tell you how many friends and people I’ve found who…” His eyes go blank for a moment before snapping back to reality. He grunts and shakes his head. “Just…”

Nico grabs your arm gently now, thumb running along the bumpy lines. His nose scrunches, but he gives you a smile. “Just, promise me you’ll come to me first. For anything.” He leans forward and gives you a long, long stare. “Even if it’s stupid. Even if it’s something small. It matters. You matter. And this?” He lifts your arm. “Is in the past now. You’ve managed to stop. Do you know how much strength that takes? And even if you go back to it, even if you…hurt yourself again – which you better not – I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.” He laughs then and raises his brows. “I mean, have you seen Vash? Dude’s a walking scar, and I’m still stickin’ by him.”

You let out a watery laugh. It turns into another sob. Nico shushes you and pulls you to his chest again. “Bad analogy,” he admits, and says a quiet sorry. “You ain’t like him. You’re way too pretty for that.”

“Shut up,” you say, laughing and crying, “just shut up.”

He does. Instead, he kisses you, slow and steady. And maybe this wouldn’t solve everything. You may have many more nights like this. But with Nico, everything felt a little better.

#trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #writing #self insert #reader insert #nova writes #trimax #ww x reader #wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #tw self harm #tw self-harm #self-harm #self harm #anonymous #anonymous ask #request #nova answers