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hallowedheart · 1 year

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Stretchmarks

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like me, she’s like me.

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s okay.”

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

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

He tilted his head, “about what?”

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

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

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

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

She blinked at him.

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

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

“You.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On your hips.”

“Hips?”

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

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

He tilted his head.

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

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

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

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

She hummed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiled softly, “you are too.”

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

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

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

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

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

“When did I say that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good boy.”

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

#trigun

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hallowedheart · 1 year

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Under the Covers

An Intimate & Sleepy Morning Sex Oneshot ft. Vash x f!Reader (NSFW)

18+ Only !Minors DNI!

♡Pairing:♡ Vash x f!Reader

♡Summary:♡ As morning dawns, you and Vash share a quiet and intimate moment under the covers in your hotel room.

♡Content:♡ fluff & smut, established relationship, PWP-porn without plot, cuddling, intimacy, longing/yearning, hotel sex, sleepy sex, frottage, vaginal sex, teasing, creampie, no use of y/n

♡Word Count:♡ 2'100+

{AO3 Link}

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Warm. Your body is enveloped in a blanket of comforting warmth. It’s such a cathartic feeling, a release from the tensions and tribulations of the previous day.

You breathe in, and then release a soft breath as you open your eyes. The first thing you see in the dim morning light is Vash’s face, resting just a few inches away from your own. Vash’s head is laid down at the other end of your pillow, and his blonde hair is sprawled against the fabric in an unkept mess. Vash’s eyes are closed, and his mouth is lax. He’s still sleeping soundly.

You blink, and then reach up to rub your eyes in an attempt to try and clear your brain of its morning fog, but unfortunately, you’re not entirely successful. Luckily though, you do have just enough brain power to process where you are, and how you got there. You and Vash are laying naked together under the coarse and tattered blankets of the double bed you had rented last night.

The hotel room that you are staying in is old, drafty, and ill maintained. But it was cheap, which made you and Vash jump on the opportunity to take it.

Sadly, being cheap does have its drawbacks. You shudder when you recall walking into the cold and dank room the night before. You and Vash had stood at the door’s threshold, looking into the wretched space with helpless despair. Holes in the walls, dusty curtains, torn blankets, and the corner of the ceiling leaked. At least the bed looked semi usable.

Normally, you would have gone down to demand another room or find another hotel, but you and Vash suffered from a bone deep exhaustion which made you significantly less picky that night.

After settling in, you had both gotten ready for bed. But as you two undressed, the chill in the room was so unbearable that you could hardly stand it. You and Vash had disregarded your clothes in a hurry, and then took shelter under the worn wool covers that had probably been around since the Big Fall.

You both had cuddled together close with the express intention of keeping warm and getting a good night’s sleep. But then those cuddles led to kisses, which then led to groping and grinding, which then eventually culminated into various rounds of passionate lovemaking.

You take in another deep breath of the crisp morning air. The cold feels less intense compared to last night, but you are starting to feel a little chilly. You gently shift your body under the covers, seeking to snuggle up closer to Vash, and sneakily borrow more of his warmth, but when your thigh nestles between his and your hips come closer you realize that he’s aroused.

Your eyes widen with surprise, and you sneak a peek under the blankets just to make sure. Yep. He’s hard. To be honest, you’re a little astonished that he has some drive left in him, given what you two had been up to last night.

“Cold, mayfly?” Vash sleepily slurs, snatching your attention back up to his face.

Vash’s eyes are still closed, but his arm begins to move underneath the blankets. He reaches for you, and then wraps his arm around your back, pulling you closer to him.

Once every little inch of your body is pressed snug against him, Vash hums happily. He then proceeds to indulge himself by burying his face against your neck.

“S’okay, I’ll warm you up.” Vash mumbles sleepily against your skin.

And true to his word, Vash is quite warm. You smile contentedly as you start to feel his heat spread across your entire body, seeping gently into your flesh, and warming you to your core. He feels so cozy, so comfortable, so nice. Being in his arms makes you as happy and relaxed as a cat in a sunbeam.

But, Vash can’t keep still for long when he has you in his embrace like this. Soon enough, you feel Vash’s fingers start to move. He begins to gingerly trace your spine up and down in a soothing motion.

It feels good, and you want to touch him too. The arm that rests under you slips out and travels upwards, reaching for Vash’s head. Your yearning fingers thread through his messy blonde locks as you so gently and so fondly caress his head.

Vash heaves a wistful little sigh at your touch, then much like an affectionate puppy, he snuggles even closer and rubs his face against you. You can’t suppress the giggle bubbling in your throat at his sugary sweet gesture of affection.

“Feels nice. No leaving bed today. S’not allowed.” Vash whispers.

You heave a deep sigh at his words.

‘If only we could.’

But you both know that it’s only a matter of time before one of your friends is banging on the door to get you up, dressed, and back out into the harsh desert sunlight again. Back to dusty roads and the scent of smoking gunpowder.

You close your eyes and force yourself to push those thoughts aside. You don’t want to think about those things right now. Right now you are exactly where you want to be most in the world. You are going to savor every last second of this moment. This precious, quiet little moment that is just for the two of you.

You’re wisped away from your thoughts when you suddenly feel Vash’s hips shift against yours. You feel him release a shuddering breath against your neck as he starts to lazily rub his erection against your thigh.

You bite your lip, and a daring spark of lust ignites and then simmers between your legs at the feeling of him using your body for his pleasure. With a breathy chuckle, you respond to Vash’s advances by raising your leg up between his own and trapping his cock between his hip and your thigh.

Vash groans and his hot breath continues to tickle your skin as he begins a slow and steady rhythm of frotting himself against your body. A delightful wetness spreads across the place where he is rubbing. He’s leaking for you. He’s aching for you.

You plant a tender kiss on Vash’s head, and he reciprocates by pressing gentle kisses of his own down your neck. You shudder when you feel his hot tongue slip out and lewdly glide all the way down to your collarbone.

“Vash?” You breathe his name into the morning chill.

His “Mmm?” vibrates against your throat as he latches onto your neck and begins to suck. You exhale a pleasured little gasp. In the back of your sleep fogged mind, you know that you’ll likely have a hell of a time explaining away that little hickey later, but right now you can’t seem to care.

“Are you sure you want to go again?” You softly pant. “You’re not too tired?”

Vash’s answer to your question comes in the form of him gently removing your leg from between his, and then hoisting it upwards to wrap around his hip. His hand moves down to cup your ass to pull you closer, and you both quietly moan in bliss as Vash’s hard dick nestles itself lovingly against the wet folds of your sex.

You won’t need any preparation this time. Thanks to Vash’s ministrations, you are sopping wet with your arousal. Not to mention that there are also remnants of last night’s escapades to lube you up for one more round.

Vash finally lifts his face from the cradle of your neck. His expression is still dazed with sleep, but his blue eyes are filled with tender devotion as he looks up at you and gives you his softest smile.

“Guide me inside you, mayfly.” Vash cups your face and then presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Please.”

Well who could say no to that?

Capturing Vash’s lips in a passionate kiss of your own, you reach down and take hold of his throbbing length. You rub the head of his cock teasingly up and down your slit, mixing your fluids, and getting him nice and wet and ready to enter you.

Vash inhales sharply as you temptingly rub him against you. Your eyes flash and capture him in a sultry glance as you bring his tip up to rub against your clit. You tremble as a deeply seated desire starts to bloom in your core.

“T-tease.” Vash gasps in a playfully accusing tone. You chuckle, and then press a pert little peck to the corner of his mouth as a half apology.

Then, with a shimmy of your hips, you guide Vash’s cock to your entrance, and start to slowly sink yourself down.

Vash’s grip on you tightens and he moans as your tight, wet heat envelopes his length. You also can’t stay quiet and you groan with rapture at the feeling of Vash’s hot cock spreading you open. The pressure of his fingers gently digging into your back is gratifying and serves to entice you even more.

Encouraged by Vash’s reaction, you decide to take your time with him. And Vash is so patient, and so good for you. He litters your jaw with little kisses as he takes what you give him without complaint on the pace. He honestly just seems content to just savor the feeling of you slowly and lovingly bottoming him out inside of you.

Eventually, you do take Vash all the way to the hilt, and a sigh of relief escapes his lips when you do. A small and sly little smile spreads across your lips. You intend to tease Vash for a little bit longer; cockwarm him until he’s desperately oozing precum. But now that Vash has had a taste of your sinfully tantalizing insides, he finds that he can’t hold himself back anymore.

With your bodies entwined, Vash starts to slowly thrust his hips against yours. Your eyes are both locked in each other’s lustful gazes as his cock starts to massage the walls of your pussy. You tremble as you feel Vash plunge deeper into you with each drive forward of his hips.

“J-just one more time, okay?” Vash moans as he looks yearningly into your eyes. “I promise.”

Now where have you heard that before?

You lean forward and give Vash a hungry kiss. He returns it with just as much fervor.

“Okay.”

No more words are exchanged between the two of you as you both lazily thrust your hips against one another’s. The sex is slow, groggy, and passionate. You and Vash give each other lazy kisses as you both pant and moan into each other’s mouths. It doesn't take long for the haze of sleep to be replaced by a haze of love drunk euphoria.

Vash starts to rut his hips against yours more vigorously, and when you feel his hand travel across your skin to ensnare your hip in a desperate grip, you know he is close to coming. You want to come when Vash does, so you reach down and circle your clit with your fingers. You mewl at the sensation as you feel your orgasm start to build fast.

Keen as ever, Vash doesn’t miss a beat, and his eyes follow your hand’s every movement as he watches your erotic display of self-pleasure.

“Fuck,” Vash whimpers. The snapping of his hips against yours becomes more forceful and intense. “That’s…that’s so…”

He isn’t able to finish his sentence. You silence Vash with a sloppy kiss and you purposefully clench your sex around his length. A breathless and whiny little moan escapes Vash’s lips as he thrusts his cock inside you one last time.

Vash comes so sweetly. He buries his face into your neck and his entire body trembles with ecstacy in your arms. You can feel his cock twitch inside you as he pumps another thick, hot load of his cum into the deepest recesses of your body. It feels so good.

The feeling of Vash filling you up always sends you over the edge, so it’s not long before you reach your own peak too. With a firm circling of your clit, your breath hitches, and then you release a pleasured sigh as your orgasm gently washes over you too.

As your climaxes subside, the two of you lay still and panting in each other's arms. Both of your eyes are closed as you each revel in the pleasurable aftershocks of your releases.

With time that sweet tension eventually eases from both of your bodies. You both are left limp, sweaty, and so fulfilled as you bask in the intimate aftermath of your joining.

Then, you hear a heavy knock on the door.

“Rise and shine sleepyheads! Get your asses moving before I do it for you!”

You and Vash simultaneously sigh with disappointed longing. Then, hand in hand, you both emerge from your warm sanctuary under the covers.

#trigun

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hallowedheart · 1 year

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Could i get headcanons for Vash having separation anxiety from his reader s/o? Like if he has to stay home and she goes to work, or the store? Hes like a puppy waiting for her to come home!

Thank you!

Vash has puppy vibes. Golden Retriever, specifically.

(I now picture the scene with Spongebob watching behind the windows of the Krusty Krab as Squidward walks in. That's Vash and the reader.)

He honestly tries to make do without your presence for certain periods of time, yet he fails. Miserably, might I add. He doesn't completely freak out if he wakes and you're not in the bed with him, but he will go and look for you in either your shared home or the inn if you're renting a room.

Vash hates it when you tell him he can't go out with you sometimes. He doesn't mind and will even offer to carry all of your bags just so you say yes, but you don't. Or if you go out to run errands without him.

This man waits for you like a dog. If he hears your vehicle or you walking towards the front door, he's at either the window or the door with a smile spread across his face. Hold onto whatever it is in your grip tightly, because he will hug you so fast and spin you around happily.

He does this a lot, especially if you work a day job with long hours. Vash will give you kisses before you leave for the day and as soon as that door shuts behind you, he will sit in silence and just wait. Maybe pick up a book or do a chore or something to at least keep his mind off of you, but it only does so much.

You once asked him what he does when you're at work all day, to which he replied, "I wait for you to come back." He said it in such a soft tone that was accompanied by the cutest smile, and you just couldn't help but give him a big ole smooch.

He's just a big puppy in disguise and is so excited each and every time you return home to him. Gives you all the hugs and kisses to the point where you actually have said, "Sit boy, sit." He followed it without a thought.

Vash will voice his feelings about you leaving him when running errands and such. He doesn't like to stay at home when you're out and about. He knows work is different, but he can't help but think about and miss you.

#trigun

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hallowedheart · 1 year

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Okay so question, what would happen if you ever gave head to Vash and Knives?🧐🤔

Would the petals suction their s/o fave to their crotches? Would you be forced to, well, swallow everything?

You know anon, you know the answer already, however I'm willing to elaborate a little.

Warnings: not sfw, come on you know the deal, plantdick, slight mentions of a asphyxiation kink (?) along with a bit of masochism from a certain plant and sadism from the other.

If it makes you feel any better... Vash would at least be kind enough to pry the petals off of your face so you can breathe (before or after he cums inside your mouth, it depends...) Knives however... Well you can go a bit longer without air, can't you? (If you're genuinely struggling to stay conscious, he will use his own fingers to free your face, but you better make it up to him!)

Though I suppose if you used your fingers to keep the petals wrapped around your digits while you sucked them off, that could work too! Just be gentle you know? They're very sensitive there... One rough tug and Vash will be gritting his teeth as a tingle of pain (not necessarily bad... Just bizarre, he says) goes up his spine, while Knives will just growl and tell you to not do that again or else he won't be so merciful come the next time.

For Knives, it's already privilege enough to behold him so intimately, so to deny him the utter pleasure of embracing you with his entire being... Oh he will certainly remember this torture (as he dramatically calls it) in the future. Vash doesn't mind it at all that you don't want to yanno, be at risk of having your mouth stuck to him till he can pry himself off so he's a lot more cool with it. (A little disappointed, but he accepts it.)

All in all, don't worry, the chances of suffocating from the petals around their cock wrapping onto your face and not letting go is fairly low. (But never zero!)

#trigun

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hallowedheart · 1 year

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Your roommate vash au is so cute!! He would be the sweetest boy to live with, I’m imagining him constantly offering you his clothes now he realises how it makes you feel after the sweater fiasco…

Oh, absolutely.

ao3. [part 1.] part 2. coming home to you is a pilgrimage.

Roommate!Vash who gives you his favorite pullover during movie night while you huddle up next to Meryl on the couch, the boys taking up the floor—all long limbs and soft bickering.

“Your foot stinks,” Wolfwood deadpans.

“That’s your breath,” Vash quips, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Shh!” comes from both you and Meryl. Sorry, Vash mouths, twisting behind him to rest his hand on your calf, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. You bite into the plush fabric of his pullover when he turns away, taking his hand with him.

Roommate!Vash whose fingers skim over your hips when he helps you out of the shirt you borrowed, an extra large tee over your outfit that says “Someone from España Loves Me”—a “failed” gag gift (because he really does love me, Vash delivers earnestly) from Nicholas when he walked the Camino de Santiago last spring.

Specks of semolina fall off the front as he lifts the shirt above your head and slides it down your arms. He stops at your hands, surprising you with how he tugs off the tacky dough from your fingers and creases the red Love Me letters in the process.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, his amusement coming through, “I’m used to messy kids.”

You can feel the thundering of your pulse point as he concentrates on his task, the few seconds of his ministrations feeling both too long and too quick for what it was. You may have let out something high-pitched and unintelligible, but not even a small quirk of his lips shows that he’s heard it.

“There,” his tone is smug. “You’re pasta-free.”

He smiles so easily at you every time.

When roommate!Vash finds out that the straps of your apron broke, he goes back to his room to fetch an old volunteering shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

“You can get anything on them. Acrylic, oil...the blood of your enemies,” he says slyly. You roll your eyes as you take the clothes from his grasp, and without thinking twice, you lean up to brush your lips against his cheek.

“Thank you, Vash,” you say softly, touch light against his jaw.

Roommate!Vash catches you painting one day after coming home early for once. A thick, grey cloud had hovered over him, plagued by the comments his attending had been making all day, the patient interview that he felt he failed, and the general feeling of incompetence he’s been having during this rotation. Not to mention the weight of today in general…

He recognizes the first few notes of the song you’re playing, anticipating the lyrics in his head when—

The setting sun casts an orange glow on your meadow, the red field of flowers livened by its warmth. You have your leg propped on the stool, neck craned towards the canvas and holding a fine tip to the surface. He feels his brain rewire watching your profile, the relaxed lines of your body against the seafront view, next to Arno, his child—

Then he sees it. Lighthanded brush strokes, like smoke, like river. Ink lines that curve high along your thigh and disappear beneath the the bunched hem of his shirt and—

“Fuck, are those doughnuts?” he exhales in disbelief.

“Yes?” you respond cautiously, struck by the slackening of his jaw and his wide-eyed gaze. “I got us some.”

Then you’re walking over wearing only his shirt with a half-dozen box in hand, fingers sickly-sweet from strawberry jam. Vash looks at the box, then the sugar on your hand, then your legs, and back.

“Where are your pants?” he asks dumbly.

“Your sweats were too big so I put them on your bed,” you shrug. “This shirt is very comfy, though,” you say, shifting on your feet. “Hey, are you alright?”

Vash had buried face in his hands, the frames of his glasses digging uncomfortably into his sockets. My roommate’s an angel, he groans.

A literal being sent from heavenohgodI’mnotgonnasurviveI’mnogonnasurvive.

When you finally pry apart his hands and look up at him with that soft gaze yours, asking, Did you have a bad day? Vash relaxes into your grip and thinks, you undo me so easily every time.

[ Bonus:

Nai glares at the corner of his entryway. His clothes haven’t arrived, as he’d asked. Then, pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting the door behind him, he stalks towards the living room and sets down his pizza box on the coffee table. It’s not his usual choice, but he was in their old neighborhood for once. The pizza place was Vash’s favorite, and today of all days, he especially misses his brother.

He presses the play button on his speakers before he enters the shower, letting the water wash away some of the tensions of the day. Nai leisurely rolls his neck, moaning softly under his breath, and goes through the rest of his bath with some needed mindfulness.

Ludions was one of the earliest pieces Rem taught them, elementary to both him and Vash, really, but oh, how they delighted with the last poem about the obese cat Potasson.

“Mom, I’d like one, too,” Vash asked as a child, fingers resting against the keys. Eyes alight with laughter, their mother had responded, “Alright, but perhaps not the big kind.”

With a towel slung low on his hips, Nai palms at his face with both hands. There’s something that Vash gave him shoved in the depths of his drawer. He knew he should have burned it when he had the chance, but he couldn’t make himself do so. It was his baby brother’s gift after all.

Steeling himself, Nai snatches the white tee underneath his pile of socks and dons it along with a pair of joggers. His surly expression reflects back at him and his eyes inevitably rove over the words generously streched across his chest:

small tits, big heart.

He snorts once before snapping a picture, sending it to Vash. Hope you’re doing okay today. Call me when you get the chance.

On the top of his screen is the perpetual notification of the day.

Tesla. ]

#trigun

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hallowedheart · 1 year

Text

cold coffee | Roommate!Vash

ao3. part 1. don’t try to run, honey. [part 2.]

Vash runs through the entrance of the coffee shop to meet you, fifteen minutes late. He apologizes with a smile and a laugh, shrugging off his backpack and heavy coat to sit across from you. You notice all too well the way his cheeks flush from his haste, the white of his teeth, and sheepish baby blues underneath his tinted glasses.

You like him immediately.

He says he’s a third-year med student, starting in the fall. He has a car, but prefers to bike. An early bird by necessity. He’s quiet, he says, and has a few friends he’d like to have over once in a while.

You ask if he has any hobbies.

“Play any instruments?”

“The piano,” he grins, moving the fingers of his metal hand.

You think they look just as elegant as the ones on his left, thrumming blood.

Roommate!Vash who carries an 8-foot fiddle-leaf tree through the door during move-in day. “His name’s Arno,” he offers helpfully, skirting around you and the to-go breakfast in your hands, “he’s five.”

Keep reading

#trigun

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hallowedheart · 1 year

Note

ok was just thinking. about vash + breeding kink 😳

Vash didn’t know that he even had a breeding kink, until you once told him after witnessing him playing with local kids, that he’s very cute with kids and you think he’d be a great dad.

When you went to your hotel room, Vash almost attacked you, pressing hot kisses to your lips and neck, guiding you to the bed.

You were really surprised since it was the first time you’ve seen Vash being so domineering, but it also excited you and you let him have his way with you. Once he bottomed out and thrusted into you a few times, he pulled you closer to himself, putting you hands on his shoulders and pulling your hips up, holding you in his hands, his movements became more rough and he began whispering into your ear that he wants to breed you and make sure he puts a baby in you very much, he was grunting and panting loudly, saying he wants you to make him a dad, telling you he wants to stuff you full with his cum. Looking into your your and awaiting your permission, he groaned loudly after seeing you nod at him. Soon you felt his cock pulsing inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. You were close as well, being fucked like this by the sweet and usually very gentle Vash, that you came almost instantly about him. “Hmmm so you want to be a dad that much? I’ll need to compliment you in your child handling skills more often then” you smiled at him, while a huge blush appeared on his face, after he came down from his height, slowly realising what just happened 💖

#trigun

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hallowedheart · 1 year

Note

Could you write Vash dating someone who likes to raise Thomas chick/pups/whatever their young is called?

Oh my gosh?? So cute?? Gonna call em pups because why not haha I’m expecting them to be really really small haha so cute~

-Vash with an s/o who raises baby Thomas’s-

-As soon as you tell Vash about your baby Thomas’s, he immediately asks to see them.

-So you bring him to your little farm, and he is in LOVE, lemme tell you. On the ground, holding them, cooing at them, MADLY in love.

-They’re so small and furry and cute and make cute noises at him and he just Loves them so much.

-He wants to help you so badly, but raising them is a lot more complicated than he was expecting.

-But that’s okay! You can show him the ropes! And who knows, it might be a good bonding moment for the two of you!

-And it is! He is patient and careful and gentle with the Thomas pups, and he’s always looking to you to make sure he’s brushing them or feeding them right.

-He does great! He has a way with little animals. It’s very cute to watch him interact with them. He talks to them in baby voices and he simply adores them and spoils them when you’re not looking.

-It’s hard when it’s time to go. He begs you to let him come over again and help out with the Thomas’s, and of course you’ll let him! He was such a great little assistant!

-He thinks it’s adorable that you call them your children. He wants to be their dad so bad.

-He definitely didn’t try to steal one. Nope, not him, he’d Never do something like that.

-You catch him of course, and scold him gently but you can’t stay mad at him and those puppy dog eyes.

-Maybe you’ll consider bringing a baby Thomas on your journey with the group. Everyone could use the morale boost from having a cute little companion around.

-As soon as you suggest it, Vash is so excited and encouraging! Yes! Bring a baby Thomas! He’ll keep it safe, he promises.

Thank you so much for reading~

#Trigun

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hallowedheart · 1 year

Note

Hii can I request a Vash nsfw headcanons or scenario with reader who’s really submissive and enjoys this so much. Like I love to imagine top Vash even if he’s such a soft beanie dnjck

I can see him as a very soft top but top nontheless.

Pairing: Vash the Stampede x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, fluff, gentle sex, slow sex, fingering, affirmation, praise, soft!Vash, cute!Vash, service top!Vash, sub!Reader

A/N: Vash would the softest, most gentle top but he would get you where you want to go.

Service Top!Vash who kisses every inch of your body before he dives down where you want him the most. Your sighs are a gift to him, the way you arch into his touch against his hands, he can hardly keep you down properly because he wants to touch you so badly, he wants to you everywhere, he wants to make every part of your body burn for him.

Service Top!Vash who moves two fingers inside of you, hooking them with expertise to rub along your inner wall. If he notices you're beginning to moan louder and louder he will hook them more often just to hear your pretty voice hitching in your throat and his name die on your lips in leu of gasps and whimpers.

Service Top!Vash who teases you by drawing on your clit with his tongue. He makes random patterns, his eyes closed in bliss, completely lost in your taste. Could stay down there all night but he'd feel bad if he didn't at least make you come with his cock once, he knows how much you love it when he's inside of you.

Service Top!Vash who giggles when you push yourself on his cock, all flustered and inpatient for him. You need to slow down if you want this to last okay? He will take care of you, he always does, so trust him with this.

Service Top!Vash who rolls his hips slowly but he makes sure to always hit your spot, to always nudge the tip of his cock against the entrance to your womb. You're conflicted, do you open your legs more or do you spread them so he has more room? He has a solution for that too. He swings them over his shoulders, allowing him to slide in balls deep and smooth strokes making your eyes blurry and drool drip from the side of your mouth from the slowly building pleasure.

Service Top!Vash who pushes his thumb in your mouth so you have something to focus on. You can bite down him too, having your bite mark on his finger is kind of like a ring, an unofficial one, for now. He can however give you something back, a ring off cum around the entrance of your cunt when he shoots it inside of you.

#trigun

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hallowedheart · 1 year

Text

Aahah peace and love ✌️❤️

#trigun #png #i'm normal i'm normal i'M NORMAL-

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hallowedheart · 1 year

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a selfish life | vash x reader

synopsis; you've always felt something was off about the man named "eriks". following a heartfelt conversation, you stay with him that night and unravel a very large secret.

notes; 15+, very tender kissing, some philosophical stuff tossed in, gun mention, lots of profanity, semi-nudity, identity secrecy, non-canon compliant, TREMENDOUS spoilers to trimax and og trigun anime, this could be tristamp vash but leans more def towards trimax/og vash.

wc; 3.3k

on occasion, you noticed that he wouldn't respond to the name 'eriks', even while looking him dead in the face. there'd be a certain glazed, faraway stare in his eye that speared straight through you like ice, telling you stories of unknowable agony and misery and guilt that you believed you would never be prepared to understand.

you had been there the day lina happened across that man; beaten, broken, donning the devil's red garb in complete tatters as the remnant strips billowed out around him as though extensions of his own body. it was advantageous to him that you were there, traces of relief ebbing the severity of his brow when you assured him you were the doctor's apprentice.

in those fleeting seconds before his eyes rolled into his head and he collapsed, you thought he looked at you as though you were the star-filled sky on a clear night; hopeful and soft.

two years had come and gone since then, possibly the longest of your life. the old doctor in town had passed in his sleep six months ago, bringing your apprenticeship to a screeching halt, and now you were stuck bringing water cups and handfuls of painkiller to disgraced bounty hunters and rowdy children.

"is it really so bad?" eriks asked, tipping your stool on two legs as he nudged you. "you're still helping people, you're still saving their lives. without people like you, there'd be so much more death."

"do you know how bad it sucks to have spent years and years studying and studying, only for some random travelers to come swoop in and say my apprenticeship is invalid?" you shot back, air hissing between your teeth as you sighed. "i don't want to be a nurse, eriks. this wasn't how it was supposed to be!"

eriks stared awhile, you couldn't see his eyes through the orange lenses he had tendencies to keep on his person--like an old habit he couldn't break. he settled himself deeper into the old rocker, reaching to the opposite side for two long cans of beer.

you didn't say anything as you took one of them and pulled the tab.

"it's hard to accept, I understand." eriks let his knees and heels do the work to rock himself in the chair. he sipped the froth from the top of the can. "we come into this life and do our hardest to achieve something--anything--and it just... doesn't turn out how want it to. no matter how desperately we wish we could change things, we're limited by what we can control."

mustering the energy to leave your stool, you stepped off the front porch to sit on the edge, legs swinging circles while you drank. "so, what's the point, then? what's the point of having goals, dreams, desires if those things can just be ripped out of our hands? just like that?"

"it's a hard pill to swallow, I'm sorry." he continued, "more than anyone, I... wanted to see your dream come true. you would have made a great doctor."

the can cracked and crumpled under your fingertips, chin dimpling as you suffocated the ache pulsing in your chest. "it fucking sucks. it fucking sucks! it's not fair! screw those fucking assholes, screw the university!"

there weren't many things you could control, but you were able to quiet your sobs to an occasional wheeze and shudder of your shoulders. the can of beer fell from your hands, bubbling as it pooled above the parched, fissured earth.

the slabs of wood under your body vibrated just as long arms wound you, pulling your weight into eriks chest. the point of his chin nestled on your shoulder, tips of his blonde hair tickled your neck.

"it's okay to cry, you should cry." he assured, guiding your body into a gentle sway side-to-side. "there's nothing wrong with mourning what you've lost but, please, don't give up on your patients. don't give up on the people who truly need help."

"I couldn't do that, even if I wanted to." you confessed, eyebrows creasing inward as a bitter smile inched itself across your lips. "no matter how much I hate the clinic and the university, I can't let people suffer and die. I'll find my own way forward..."

"good." his jaw moved, stubble coarse against your skin as his hold slowly eased. "find your own path, and never stop walking."

the sun had come and gone by the time eriks decided to let you go, inviting the chill of the cold, lonely desert night to caress your back and skin in a way that didn't compare to the warmth he had given you. inside the house, lina and granny had already retired to their rooms for the evening, whereas eriks busied himself with emptying the rest of his beer off the edge of the porch.

"it's getting pretty late," he said, glancing out into the vast nothingness of the desert. "you should stay the night. don't go trying to walk home when those gangs have been running around causing problems."

"eriks, I need to get back to town. I need--"

"stay." he said, voice carrying a hard edge that made your jaw clench and a shiver race down the back of your neck. "don't be so willing to put yourself in danger. you can't help anyone if you're dead."

he kept screen door open with a hand, saying nothing but waiting patiently for you to duck below his arm through the threshold into the house.

you took a glance around; everything looked the same as it always did, even with eriks presence floating about for the past two years. the layout was sparse, but not hurting for necessities that had earned their title of 'well loved'. it was the type of house you expected would feel amiss if something were removed, leaving a spot on the floor oddly pristine and free from the wear and tear of shoes and messes and life.

the old floorboards bent underfoot, amplifying yours and eriks steady footfalls to the opposite end of the farmhouse where his room was.

this wasn't anything out of the ordinary: being led down a narrow, inky black hallway to where this lumbering man slept. you'd seen it a few times before, even sat on his bed once or twice when granny's health issues stirred up during a dust storm and he wanted to know the details--privately.

"I have a couple extra blankets, so you can take the bed and I'll sleep on the floor." eriks said, jolting you from your thoughts as linens and pillows landed in a heap, rousing clouds of dust that had settled quietly, undetected for a time.

"you sure about that?" you asked, sweeping the side of your shoe along the ground. "this is your room, it's bad for your back to sleep without support."

his smile was daring, almost lewd. "are you saying you want to sleep together in the same bed?"

"I- I-" your jaw unhinged, chest flouncing as you choked out a laugh. "that's not what I said! you- ah, you really need to go to the brothel, buddy. get some of that energy out."

"nah, I'll pass." he sighed, shoulders rolling forward into a slumped posture. "you good here if I go and take a bath? you'll probably be asleep by the time I get back."

"I never sleep." you withered against the bed, seating your rear right on the edge. "never could fix that schedule after university. but, are you gonna be okay?"

he perked at that. "what do you mean?"

"eriks, you let yourself get beaten on all the time by the gangs in town," you said, gesturing to his entire person in as many places as you could. "I was the one who treated you when you showed up, and I'm the one treating you now when you're covering for lina being a loudmouth."

"hey, now, c'mon," eriks flapped a hand towards you. "she's just a kid. she doesn't know any better yet."

you couldn't understand how he was taking this in such stride, not when you were the one who had seen him in the beginning and watched blood ooze from the gouges and lacerations in his flesh, turning the clear bathwater red by the time you finished cleaning him off.

"all I'm saying is that we should start talking some sense into that girl." after a moment, you continued, "I don't want her to get hurt. she's so strong, eriks, but that kind of strength gets beaten out of you around here. she doesn't deserve that-- no one does."

eriks took steps towards you, the scuffed tips of tawny shoes just on the fringes of your eyesight as you stared at the ground. "you want her hide herself? we don't get choose who people are--how they are--we just have to accept them. she hasn't done anything wrong."

it was your turn to return the venom, eyelids reaching your brow as you looked up as him through your lashes. more than upset, he seemed disappointed.

"sometimes, it's better to blend in than to be another client for the undertakers, eriks."

you saw his jaw twitch, thought maybe you heard his teeth clicking as well. his eyes were ablaze with emotion you had never witnessed him from; glistening like clear crystal in the pillars of moonlight streaming in through the window. as much as you wanted to believe you knew this man, you truly didn't, and definitely not now as he warred with himself through frustration and defeat.

without a word, he swiveled on his heel, grabbed a pair of towels from a chair and pulled the door shut after him when he left the room. it left you there alone, needles in your thighs and rear from where you sat, to consider what it was he was most upset about.

the man you knew as eriks hardly seemed to be the one you had just spoken to. eriks was a man who enjoyed dallying and drinking in his free time, unflappable, and always willing to lend a hand. this man was scared and confused, something felt fragile about him.

it made you feel bad.

"goddamn, I'll just take the floor." you groused, picking up the linens to fold them as thick as you could get them, pillows stacked out in a row to give some cushioning to your back through the night.

you lasted thirty minutes on those dirty down pillows and blankets before the tossing started. above your head on the nightstand, the round alarm clock clacked on monotonously to remind you how long a minute really could last.

"oh, you've got to be kidding me..."

first, you faced the door, hands tucked under your chin while you stared at it, half believing you had seen the doorknob twist a few times in the dark. the ground didn't vibrate under your body, no distant cries of flexing wood slabs--no one was awake, eriks was still in the bath.

when it became too tedious for you to gawk expectantly at a door, you beat your way across the pillows onto your other side, facing the bed and streams of moonlight. you hands nestled in the same spot under your chin, elbows digging down into the makeshift mattress just as one of the wooden boards beneath you jiggled and lifted a couple of inches.

"did that dipshit put a hole in the floor?"

it sure seemed that way, you confirmed with yourself, pressing against it to raise it higher into the air until the bulge through your pillows was impossible to ignore.

everything was ripped away from formation, lifting wild spirals of dust into the air and letting you choke on it while fussing with the board. you caught it just then, when the soft white glow from the window glinted off of something metallic in the hole. it beckoned you, lured your curiosity to the point of pressing your chest flush to the floor, arm buried to the shoulder, fingers desperately groping around.

"has to be the foundation of the house." you growled, kicking your legs out to reach deeper. "none of the other boards are loose... he did this on purpose."

what unsettled you more than that realization was when your pads struck something freezing, large, and metallic. you recoiled some, arm catching those jagged edges, making you spit.

prayer didn't save lives, but in this moment of sinking your arm back down to fully grab the thing, you prayed it wasn't what you thought it was.

and, as you used all the strength in both arms to reel it out from its hiding space, the moonlight fully revealing to you the ominous glow belonging to a monstrous pistol.

"fuck!" your shoulders dragged from the weight of it, making it a task to heave it onto the bed to rid your hands of it. "fuck, this guy is packing some heavy fire power here."

your mind was in a spiral. of all things secrets that you expected eriks to be towing around, being a gunman wasn't one you sent high on your list of possibilities. he didn't seem the type; not your easygoing, loveable, kind, gentle--

"what are you doing?"

for the second time that night, you felt needles prickling against the back of your neck, down your arms, and make your palms start to sweat. if it weren't for the fact that you knew eriks voice by heart, in a crowd, in a rowdy bar--you wouldn't have believed that tone belonged to him.

you took a deep breath, heart thundering in your ears as you turned to him. "who are you? and don't feed me some stupid bullshit."

vash's eyes were wide, frenetically skipping across the scene of the upturned board, the pistol on his bed, and the way your face warped in confusion and fear. when he took two steps forward, you were already on the other side of the bed, dragging the gun closer to you and further from his reach.

"don't- don't do this..." he showed you his palms, coming as close to the bed as his knees would let him. the only thing he wore on his body was a pair of gray sweatpants and a white towel across his neck, his long hair still dripping at the tips. he wasn't hiding anything, surely you could see that. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"fat fucking chance I'd take your word," you spat, nearly grabbing the old chair next to you to fling at him when he tried to round the bed. "if you come any closer, I'm going to scream. are you a gunman?"

vash kept his hands up, managing to uphold a neutral expression despite the way his insides felt like they were being ripped apart. "no, not anymore. that's all in my past."

"you expect me to believe that? after I pull this thing out from a hiding spot?!" you strained your voice to a hoarse whisper, for some reason not fully convinced you needed to yell. "are you insane? are you a hitman? part of a gang? a bounty hunter?"

"no." he said.

the corners of your mouth twitched, eyes tracing a path from the gun to him, and then towards the closed bedroom door. you wouldn't have enough time to get around him to escape, and the window was too high for you break and climb out of. you wondered if he was also aware that you were cornered without an exit.

it's funny that life always worked out like that.

"your name isn't eriks, is it?"

he frowned. "it's not, no."

"what is it?" you asked, pressing harder, "I think I have a right to know after two years of lies."

"I can't tell you that, I'm sorry." he said.

oddly, you were more frustrated by this situation than you were scared. if he was a gunman of the bad type, he could've killed you by now; could've dropped you with a single round in cold blood, done the same to lina and granny and no one would ever know. he had a chance to do this everyday for two years.

he never did.

"don't look at me like that." he rasped on a single breath, refusing to let his hands drop until he saw the tension ease out of your body. slowly, he tried rounding the bed again, eyes never leaving yours even when he caught the motion of your fingers twitching towards the pistol. "it's not loaded. I haven't had bullets for it in a long time. I swear, I didn't keep it hidden to hurt you or lina."

"you won't even tell me your name." you were staring at his chest once he was in front of you, studying the scars and patchwork metal across his pectoral. faintly, but there, something called to you to reach out and touch him. "how can you ask me to trust what you say?

"it makes sense now. your scars, you showing up in the condition that you did, the secrecy, hiding the gun. you don't make it easy for people to figure you out."

his eyes softened, an even more delicate smile formed across his lips as he reached out with his left arm, the cold fingers were a strange sensation against your cheek. you flinched away from him a few times, tilting your face away, but he followed until you let him touch you.

"I'm sorry, I wish I could tell you everything, but I just... can't." his voice was purposefully gentle, soothing and reassuring, reminding you of how he was when he had held you earlier in then evening. "please, don't tell lina or granny about this. my life right now is all I could have ever wanted. the chores. the dinners. everyone in town... you."

it was hard for you to think when he was stroking your face so sweetly, lovingly. "you're lying to them, you've been lying to them. you've been lying to me."

"I'll never complain about another chore, or when you poke and prod at me with needles, or when granny makes me help her ball her yarn." vash pressed his false hand into your face, angling it so you could see the sincerity in those brilliantly blue eyes. "I want this for me, however selfish if may be. this quiet, peaceful life carrying around groceries and bringing you lunch at the clinic."

"eriks--" that name didn't sound right on your tongue anymore, but he didn't correct you.

"so, please, I'm begging you, don't say anything to them. let me live in peace with them, with everyone--with you."

those eyes of his seared into your soul; a beautiful, yet tumultuous storm of emotions swirled in them. there was then a light patter just underneath your eye, warmth streaking along the curves of your face. the second time you realized that they were not your tears, but his.

"I don't want to let any of this go." he pleaded.

the dull pangs behind your ribs never subsided, not as you leaned into him to place a fleeting peck to the corner of his mouth, and especially not when he intercepted that with lips for a kiss he seemed to revel in forever.

"what's your real name?" you had pulled away long enough to ask. "I have to know, please."

"don't make me tell you. not right now."

vash took you by the shoulders, one large hand cradling the back of your head, thumb stroking your face as he kissed you feverishly and long.

a/n: canonically, vash loses his gun after angel arm is activated. I thought it'd be fun to do a one shot like this tho so here we are!! I spent quite a bit of time on this, so if you enjoyed it PLEASE comment and/or reblog!!

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#trigun

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