#Wolfwood Drabble

[fruitsoxs]

I just read the jealousy drably you posted and I already really enjoy your writing! I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort and I was wondering if we could get a part 2 of sorts with comforting and loving Vash after realizing the situation made him a bit upset/ jealous. Whether you write it or not, I can’t wait to see your further work 👍

i decided to throw these two requests together!

Part 1

pairings: vash x reader , wolfwood x reader

warnings: a bit of angst, vash cries, wolfwood is kind of a jerk

notes: yeah- part 2 so soon for you babes. ily all! he one bed trope is kinda weak here so i think i might write another drabble or fic later because I love that trope. also is this a little too long to be a drabble? idk

Vash

Your eyes flicker to the man beside you for a moment. He’s not looking at you- no his eyes are conveniently tracing every other thing in this room but you. His blue eyes refuse to land on you, no matter how much you try to intercept his vision. You briefly wonder how long he can look at the same lamp before getting bored, but your sarcastic thoughts are cut short when he finally speaks up.

“I’ll switch with Meryl-” Vash says suddenly causing your eyes to widen in confusion. 

What is going on with him? 

Sure this room only has one bed. Yeah it’s a little awkward, but it’s never been such a big problem before. In fact, you have been traveling with Vash for so long that it has happened multiple times before and has never been this big of a deal! You thought the two of you were close enough that something this small wouldn’t matter- but apparently you were wrong.

Actually, Vash has been acting like this for a little over a week now. He’s been avoiding your gaze, not talking to you, and even refusing to joke around like he once did. Every time you try to approach him, it feels like he’s putting up this wall to keep you away. Even the others have started to notice. Wolfwood has been giving the two of you curious glances, and he’s kinda bad at picking up on that stuff.

You’re honestly starting to get tired of it- he’s given you no explanation about why he’s suddenly distant, and it’s beginning to really hurt. You aren’t just close with him, you’re pretty much in love with him. You have been for a long time- and while you don’t mind staying friends, it hurts more than anything to have him push you away this far.

“Don’t bother.” You finally answer after a moment of silence. “They won’t switch with either of us- they did this on purpose.” You explain throwing your bag into the corner of the room. Vash flinches at this- and you sighand take a deep breath. 

Another awkward silence fills the room, and you find yourself staring at him as he avoids your gaze again. His eyes shoot over to you for only half a second before they go back to that stupid lamp. A deep anger starts to bubble up in your chest. You don’t like getting mad at him. You barely ever do. But right now? He’s hurting you. Every time he looks away, every time he ignores you, it makes your heart sting.

You can’t even think of a reason why he’s doing this! It all started a week ago after a night at the bar. You went to grab everyone some drinks, and when you came back Vash was gone. When you asked, Wolfwood just shrugged and told you he went to bed. After that? Nothing.

“Which side do you want?” You ask, trying desperately to get anything out of him. Vash just shrugs. “I’ll take the floor.” He says without even turning to you.

Your heart sinks. What have you done? You don’t understand. 

“What is going on with you?” You suddenly ask, a little angrier than you mean to be. You can see a change in his body immediately. He goes rigged- tense. “What do you mean?” He asks. You sigh and slump down onto the bed- resting your head in your hands. “You’ve been quiet- too quiet. Every time I try to talk to you, you find some excuse to walk away. You won’t sit next to me in the car. You refuse to even look at me-” You cut yourself off, feeling tears threaten to spill from your eyes. “What did I do?”

He looks over at you with wide eyes. It’s the first time he’s looked at you in days, and now you can see that something is very wrong. His eyes are dark- his face is pale. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. 

Oh.

You’re so stupid. All this time you’ve been so hurt by him ignoring you, you haven’t really paid attention to him. This isn’t about you, or maybe it is, but there’s obviously something deeper happening here. There’s something really wrong.

“You didn’t do anything. I-” He starts to explain- but can’t seem to get it out. He turns away from you again. “It’s me.” He finally concludes. In the moonlight from the window you can see his shoulders shake slightly. 

“Oh Vash…” You immediately get up and reach out for his arm, he doesn’t stop you. You grab him and pull him close, hugging him tightly. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t hug you back for a second- his body stiff. Eventually though, his arms wrap around you and he pulls you close. The hug feels normal- like you’ve done it a thousand times before. And to be fair- you have. 

“The other day at the bar…that guy was flirting with you.” Vash murmurs, and your eyes widen. That silly random doctor? He was a bit funny yes- but you only were talking to him because you felt a little cornered. You don’t even remember what that guy looks like. “I saw you laughing- and I just got so jealous.” 

Your heart flutters softly. He was jealous?

“And…I just kept thinking that I have no right to feel that way. I have no right to think of you that way. Everyone around me always gets hurt, and I don’t want you to get hurt.” He’s crying as he explains this, light tears dripping from his cheeks onto your shoulder. “But I can’t help but be selfish. You’re more than my best friend I…” he trails off choking up. “I love you.”

You feel your breathing stop for a moment. The room goes eerily quiet. The onlys pounds you can hear are his soft sobs, and your heartbeat. You tighten your hold on him, so he can’t even try to pull away. “I…I love you  too.” You admit softly.

“But-”

“No. I love you too. You can’t…you can’t do this to yourself. You can’t force yourself to be isolated from the world. I don’t want you to push me away- I don’t care what your reasoning is.” You cling to him as you speak. “I want to be by your side. Please let me.” You beg softly.

His arms tighten around you too, and he shoves his face into your hair, still crying quietly. You rub his back with your hand, and murmur soft words into his skin until he calms down. Soon, the two of you are just holding each other in the moonlight. 

“Okay.” is all he says, pulling away. He’s smiling down at you through red eyes, and it’s the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. “I promise, I won’t push you away ever again.”

You reach your hand up to his cheek, and he turns his face to kiss your palm lightly. The two of you stare at each other for a second. “I’ll take the left side.” he breaks the moment with a playful grin and you giggle.

The rest of the night is spent cuddling and talking about your feelings. The only tears shed after that are happy tears.

Wolfwood

Despite having a romantic dance at a random bar (and yes, Wolfwood is a surprisingly good dancer) the next day things go back as they always are. Actually, things feel a little bit worse even. After weeks of trying to break down Wolfwood’s ridiculously high walls, you were finally granted a pleasant evening in his arms- only to immediately be cussed at for sitting a little too close to him in the car the next day.

It’s not like you were sitting on his lap either! All you did was softly press your leg up against his, because Vash was once again thrashing in his sleep- and he pushed you over and grumbled for you to get back in your own fucking seat. Charming right? 

Things kept getting worse after that. You two started bickering more. You both started to refuse to talk to each other at some point, forcing poor Vash to be your messenger(he was not a fan of telling you to fuck yourself for Wolfwood). You even got into a tiny argument over directions, that resulted into a bigger argument about how utterly useless you are. (Which definitely did not make you cry that night)

The others in the group were starting to get really fed up with the two of you. 

Which is how you ended up here- standing in the hallway to your tiny hotel room with Wolfwood staring at you from the doorway. He looks over to the single bed in the room, and glares at you. “This is my room.” he says matter of factly, putting his Punisher down against the wall. 

“No, I’m pretty sure this is my room.” you respond, crossing your arms.

“One second.” He huffs disappearing out into the hallway. You wait a moment, staring at where he once was with a frown. When he comes back he looks like he’s considerably more angry. “Apparently- it’s our room.” He mumbles shoving past you. 

Your eyes widen a bit, but you’re not as surprised as you should be. Meryl is sneaky when she wants to be.

There’s some shuffling behind you, and you turn to see Wolfwood grabbing some pillows and throwing them on the ground. He’s got a look on his face that’s not quite a frown. It actually looks more anxious than anything. It makes your own anger fall. 

“What are you doing?” You ask tilting your head as he messes with his floor pillows. “I’m sleeping on the ground.” he tells you, looking up for only a split second. You notice that there’s a sucker in his mouth that’s almost completely gone- it’s his second one in the past hour. He must be stressing over something.

“No you’re not.” You sigh and lean down to pick up his pillows. He catches your wrist softly, stopping you. “Yes I am.” he argues back. His grip is nothing short of respectful, so soft that you actually don’t even think of pulling away. “No, I won’t let you.” you shoot back, making him roll his eyes.

“What’re you gonna do? Force me to sleep on the bed?”

“Actually yeah- I am.”

“Oh? And how are you gonna do that Angel?”

The nickname makes you perk up a bit. It’s been a couple of days since he called you that. Maybe this means the stick up his ass is finally gone?

“Just sleep in the damn bed Wolfwood-”

“I don’t want to-” He growls, glaring at you once again. His look seems to say ‘Stop pushing me’, but you’ve never been so good at obeying warnings. So you grab his pillow and yank it away from the floor. “Too bad!” You yell, trying to throw the stupid thing back onto the bed. He stops you by yanking the pillow back towards him.

The two of you stop and glare at each other, both holding onto the pillow like children. The stare off goes on until you finally give up, sighing. “Look, if you don’t want to sleep next to me that bad- I’ll sleep on the floor.” You mumble, your chest suddenly feeling very tight.

“That’s not it…”

“ Don’t argue with me. You carry around that stupidly big cross all day- wait what?”

Your eyes meet his, and he looks down at the floor. There’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks, so faint you can barely see it. “I said that’s not it. It’s not that I don’t wanna sleep next to ya…” He lets go of the pillow with a sigh, and fishes into his pocket to pull out a cigarette. In silence, he places it into his mouth and lights it.

“Then what’s the problem?” You ask a little confused. If that’s not what his issue is then what is it? Does he think you don’t want to? You’ve made it pretty clear that you wouldn’t mind! So what’s his deal?

“The problem is....” He starts looking at you as he breathes some smoke out. “I want to.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat as you look at him. “Oh.” is all you can say as your cheeks flush red. He wants to? He wants to sleep with you? He wouldn’t be this upset if he meant platonically right? He’s definitely hinting at something right? His cheeks are a bit red too

“Me too…” you finally admit after. He laughs at your words and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah I figured. You were pretty aggressive about getting me into bed.” He mumbles playfully leaning down to pick up the pillow, and throws it over onto the bed. You can’t help but feel the corners of your mouth twist upward.

After a few moments of silence, he steps towards you and puts his hand on your cheek. “I’m sorry for being an ass recently. I just…I don’t know how to deal with this stuff.” He mumbles looking down into your eyes. “It’s okay Nick…We can take it slowly. We can figure it out as we go…” you reply softly. He smiles down at you. “You’re too good for me.”

And then, he kisses you. It’s so soft, and so careful. His lips are only against yours for a moment before he pulls away. “Let’s get some rest.”

small a/n: as always let me know if you see any typos- i only have someone to beta read my full fics, and i cannot correct my own writing.

[bendycxmet]

Drive pt. 2—Nicholas D. Wolfwood

drabble: now what happens when it's your turn to drive?

content: 785 words. our turn to tease wolfwood!, nothing explicit but we do get a bit suggestive, smoking, wolfwood the passenger princess

pairing: gn!reader x wolfwood

a/n: here's part 1. thoughts of wolfwood live in me when i drive now

“Don’t be afraid of Angelina. She’s not gonna hurt you. Plus, we’re in the middle of nowhere so you also can’t hit anything.”

Your hands gripped the wheel in nervousness. Ever since the last ride you had with Wolfwood, he had inquired if you had driven a car before. You told him no, that growing up, not everyone could afford a car of their own. Especially in this economy. He had chuckled at that, mumbling something about “and I didn’t buy Angelina, either.” You shouldn’t be surprised this car wasn’t rightfully his.

“Sure, but how do you know what everything does? Like these buttons, and these sticks on the sides of the wheel. Also, the hand-eye coordination of handling this entire death trap is tripping me out-”

“Hey, easy now. Take a breather. I promise I can be a good teacher. I’ve demonstrated that in the past, right? Now, let’s start easy. 10 and 2 on the wheel, sweetheart.”

Maybe it was a part of his plan to keep you flustered as a distraction from your anxiousness. It worked, mildly. You followed his instructions, feeling the vibrations of the car lull you into a false sense of safety, persuading your brain into security. 

“Now, shift the gear to drive, and let your foot off the pedal. Don’t accelerate just yet. Let the car roll a bit.”

You take one hand off the wheel to shift gears, startling a bit when the car suddenly moves.

“There you go, easy does it. Just like that.” You feel your entire body spark to life, warming at his praise. Nothing can ever be normal with Wolfwood. He always has to play around with you. “Hands back on the wheel. Slowly add some pressure to the accelerator, but keep your foot light when you feel comfortable at whatever speed you feel like. Let’s cruise a bit on this stretch of road.”

Pushing your foot lightly on the accelerator, the car picks up its speed. You lift your foot off a tiny bit so that the car doesn’t accelerate further. You laugh manically, giddy giggles escaping you. You’re actually doing it!

“Hey, this isn’t so bad! How am I doing Wo-” your words stumble and dissolve on your tongue, heart freezing when you feel his hand come to pat your thigh.

“You always do so good for me.” You look over at him, just in time to see him wink at you before placing a cigarette between his lips, flipping the lighter in that signature way of his, and lighting the cigarette on the last flip with just one hand. You feel your breath stutter. That was hot. 

You train your eyes on the road, accelerating, unconsciously attempting to match the speed of your heart. You have to get back at him today, in some way. You tongue your cheek in thought, gritting your teeth to reel your train of thought back in when you feel Wolfwood’s hand rise up, squeezing your inner thigh. Bastard. 

“Wanna slow down a bit? We’re in no rush-” 

“Who said we aren’t?” you interrupt him, a biting edge to your voice, warning him. He quirks an eyebrow in question. Your eyes seek his cigarette from your periphery, hand coming to snag it from his lips. You inhale for a couple of seconds, feeling the smoke accumulate in your lungs before it begins to burn. Slowing the car down, you finally turn to Wolfwood. He’s looking at you in bewilderment, not used to the brazenness that you are currently showing but nevertheless fully turned on by it. 

You cup his jaw, squeezing your fingers on each side of his cheeks, effectively propping his mouth open. You lean in, close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips. Exhaling, you shotgun the cigarette smoke that was held in your lungs directly into his open mouth. The smoke disappears, Wolfwood inhaling the shared nicotine as if it were the oxygen he needed to breathe, eyes rolling back. Placing a chaste peck on his lips, you let go of his stubbled face, chuckling to yourself as you settle back into your seat. You got him hook, line, and sinker.

Wolfwood’s moan as he exhales the smoke has goosebumps rising on your skin. Again, you accelerate the car, heading back to the hotel. 

“Yeah, you better get this car to our hotel after what you just pulled,” Wolfwood growls, his hand squeezing your thigh now with a bit of desperation. 

“Better buckle up then, because you’re in for a ride Wolfwood.” This time, it was your turn with the double meanings. With the way Wolfwood groaned beside you, he was more than happy for you to take charge. 

masterlist

divider by saradika

[trigunwritings]

hello! may i request a wolfwood x fem!reader where he returns after being gone for a few days to find the reader wearing his shirt bc it smells like him and brings them comfort? newly-ish established relationship so it's not a sight he's seen before. fluff or smut would be great. thank you! 💖💖

It’s an odd feeling, settling down. Not something he had given much thought to before. Living a life that roamed from one place to the next had left the man without a true concept of home and the comfort a place like that offered.

The orphanage was the closest he could think that might fall into the description, but that still didn’t quite fit—a familiar place in his memories, but it had long faded away into just that: a memory. One that he thought back on fondly from time to time, and one that he defended fiercely when it was in danger. He even sent money from time to time when he could spare it.

But all the same, Wolfwood had never once considered himself as having a home to return to. He lived his life assuming he simply would never have one; that he would wander without any true anchor for the rest of his ever-decreasing days. Why did an undertaker need a home anyway? Who would even wait for the return of a person with blood on their hands and sin in their hearts?

Not exactly material for a family-man anyway. At least, that’s what Wolfwood often told himself.

But that’s when he met you.

And his entire perspective changed.

Instead of wandering, he rarely liked to stray far from your side—it left him antsy and reaching for so many cigarettes that the inside of his mouth burned from the smoke. The idea of leaving you alone, even if you weren’t truly by yourself, was a source of anxiety that the man had never quite felt before. He wanted to be there for you, to make sure you were safe and fed and healthy and happy.

So he often kept his trips short, whatever travel was absolutely necessary for an odd job here or there, things that kept him busy and out of the perception of not those who would hurt him, but anyone that might try to come after you.

This last job took way too long to get done. Though he’d been given a huge payment for discretion and speed, it didn’t negate the fact that he had to travel for almost two full days just to make it back to the small town the two of you had taken to living in—one that didn’t ask too many questions of a wayward priest who smoked through a pack faster than he could say a proper prayer.

He felt a little nervous as he opened the front door, ears picking up only the sound of the desert wind rolling across the sand. It was just past midday, so why was it so quiet? His brains pulled and picked at a readied set of ideas that could have happened, so he quickly stepped into the small home and all but dropped his weapon against the wall as he glanced about—

-only to see you laying in bed, sleeping. Wolfwood let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“God…” he murmured. “That got me way too worked up. Good t’be…”

Home, though the word remained unspoken as he stepped closer to the bed in preparation to reach a hand out and shake your shoulder to waken you. Before he could however, Wolfwood couldn’t help but notice something. Something you were wearing, oversized and quite familiar…

He let out a chuckle.

“Making it a habit of wearing my stuff, huh?”

You don’t reply, as his soft words don’t wake you. Instead your body curls up tighter, hands and arms entangled in a soft blanket in the same way that you often cling to the man when he is sleeping in bed with you—as if he might disappear.

Wolfwood considers his options for a few moments before finally deciding that it doesn’t really matter. Why the hell not? A nap sounded pretty damn good after all the walking he’d done in the last twelve hours alone.

He climbs into bed beside you, pulling you back against his chest and burying his nose into your hair. You make a soft noise in your sleep, and he holds you even tighter, not wanting to let you out of his arms for even a moment. Never wanting to be away from you for as long as he could help it.

Because that’s the moment he decides that he does have a home—and that home is with you.

[heich0e]

bright - vash/f!reader/wolfwood (trigun stampede) 2k, part 3 of poly!au, wild west!au, bounty hunters, wolfwood calls reader 'kid' as a petname, this is just sweet n fluffy and nothing is bad (for now...), alexa play home on the range BOUND - poly!au masterlist

it’s been two days since nicholas and vash returned.

well, two nights and one day, technically, but it all seems to bleed together—the seconds since the two crept through the door at midnight passing slow and sticky-sweet like honey. half the day following their homecoming was spent asleep, just a pile of tangled limbs and warm skin together in your shared bed, and the remaining hours had been spent in that same place as well—though your activities had been far from restful. your body is left tender and heavy and tired as you make up for the day’s work you’d neglected, but those aches are sweet too in their own way; a reminder as sure and tangible as any that your boys are home. 

the day is hot, like most days are on the little homestead where you dwell, and the sun beats down on you oppressively from overhead. at the clothesline, you find some reprieve hiding in the shadows cast by the sheets you’re hanging out to dry, catching in the warm breeze and fluttering as it passes. you’ve got a few more pieces of bedlinen to hang waiting in the basket at your feet, freshly washed and then wrung out until they were a manageable degree of sopping, and you wipe the sweat from your brow before you stoop down to reach for the next one in the pile.

on the front porch, nicholas watches your every move from his favourite rocking chair. you feel his eyes on you even when your back is turned to him.

“hey,” you call back to him dryly, turning and squinting against the brightness as you peer across the yard in his direction. he perks up when you acknowledge him, a brow drawn up in question. “you gonna help me with this? or at the very least pay for the show?”

nicholas stands, laughing a little at your lip, and hops off the edge of the raised porch to saunter over to you at the clothesline.

“pay for the show?” he asks, dipping down so he’s near to you under the brim of your sunhat. his nose is almost brushing yours, so close you think he might even kiss you, but suddenly he snags the next blanket from the wash basket and slinks back again. he shoots you a pointed look as he unfurls the sheet, something akin to a scowl though not quite as severe. “with what money?”

you pucker your lips slightly. he’s not wrong—the purse you keep tucked safely away in the back of your chest of drawers has gotten dangerously light these days—but he doesn’t need to say it like that.

“i can’t believe he blew another fucking job for us,” nicholas mutters with a derisive tch as the two of you work to fasten the wide cotton bed sheet to the line; stretching it out between your bodies until the full width separates you. you struggle to keep it secure as the damp edges flap in the wind. 

you clip your side of the linen down with a clothespin, and then hand him another from the edge of your apron so that he can do the same. he takes the pin without comment, his rough fingers brushing yours as they close around it and pluck it from your grasp.

“you know how he is, nico,” you say quietly, as you have many times in the past. “vash sees the best in people. he just wants to help them.”

“you can’t help wanted criminals,” nicholas bites sharply, pinning his side of the sheet down with an undue amount of force—the rest of the line bouncing lightly from how he’d jostled the length of cord.

you pause.

“we did.”

he huffs, shooting you a resentful look—half-guilty and half-frustrated, all because he knows you’re right.

“that’s different,” he murmurs.

“it’s not,” you counter, the wind lifting the edge of your skirt as it blows past, your eyes remaining unwaveringly fixed to his.

nicholas lets out a weary sigh to be caught and swept away by the breeze, rubbing at the back of his tanned neck as his body slackens in defeat. he stoops down and reaches for the next sheet in the basket.

the two of you work side by side in silence for a while, emptying the basket and filling up the clothesline. there’s nothing around you but the sound of the midday wind whistling through the valley, just the silence you’ve grown used to now after so long. vash went into town that morning to run some errands, so as it stands you and nicholas are the only people around for miles. 

“i’ll look for some more jobs in town to help make ends meet,” you say as you reach up with another clothespin in hand and secure the hem of one of your nightdresses down against the twine of the line. you reach over and do the same to the other side, angling into nicholas’ space as he holds the garment safely in place. “not like there’s any shortage of bullet wounds to patch up around here.”

nicholas catches the brim of your hat between his fingers, tilting it back so he can stare you clearly in the face.

“you’re not going around stitching up strange men,” he says firmly, something possessive and protective in his staunch, unswayable tone. “that’s the rule.”

you huff, your nose scrunching in a weak glare. it’s a rule you'd set for yourself years ago, long before nicholas stumbled into your life: you only tend to the medical needs of the town’s women, no exceptions. this guiding principle is as much for your own sake as it is for theirs, but the local women aren’t the ones running around getting shot in the first place, so while the rule is one that you’ve operated under for as long as you’ve been taking on odd doctoring jobs, lately it’s been holding you back—money’s never been this tight, so there’s never been a reason to change it, but things are different now.

“the girls don’t need me much these days,” you mumble softly, and it’s true: since you started helping more and more of the women in town (beyond just big annie’s working girls,) their overall wellness has improved significantly, which consequently means they don't need to see you nearly as much. “i’ve been taking good care of them.”

nicholas smiles then, a crooked, fond expression—as proud as it is warm. “yeah, you have.”

he lets his grip on your hat fall and leans away, and you do the same—stepping back around to the other side of the basket where you’d started. nicholas snags a cigarette from the holder he keeps on him at all times and pinches it between his lips, then starts fumbling around his pockets for a match.

you look out at the property around you; your little house on one side of the yard, the stable on the other, with the old well pump poised halfway in-between. you’re insulated from the worst of the heat and the elements in this little valley just outside of town, craggy rock formations stretching in a ring around your little homestead, protected on every side. you’ve even got a few meagre patches of green down here, beyond all the brush and bramble. 

it’s not much but it’s something; it’s yours and it’s home.

you turn to your husband, still digging around in his pockets for a match, and you pluck his sad little cigarette from his lips unceremoniously. nicholas looks down at you in surprise, finding you suddenly toe-to-toe with him again. this time you’re softer. this time you’re gentler as you intrude upon his space.

“we’ll make it work, nico,” you say to him with fluttering lashes and a tender gaze, tilting your face up towards his. you fiddle with the cigarette idly, watching the way the gold band on your finger glints in the sunlight. his eyes never stray from your face. “just like we always do.”

“hey!”

both you and the dark-haired man before you’s eyes snap to the other side of the valley at the loud, excited greeting that echoes through the yard. at the top of the beaten dirt path that leads in the direction of town, vash is approaching on horseback. he’s waving his arms overhead, moving at a quick canter like he’s eager to get to you. 

nicholas laughs under his breath at the sight. he steals his cigarette back from your still outstretched hand, tucking it quickly behind his ear, and his hand finds the small of your back. the two of you make your way towards the edge of the property to meet vash upon his arrival, watching as his mare paws at the ground when her rider pulls the reins to a stop.

“what’s all this?” you ask, your eyes tracing curiously over the array of goods that vash has hanging from his saddle. there’s food—you see some local vegetables and jars of pickles and jam—and a bolt of cloth that you can make out right away. he’s hours later returning home than you expected him to be when he departed that morning, and clearly he’d been busy.

vash hops down from his saddle, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek and then another to nicholas’s. 

“what the hell have you been up to?” nicholas asks warily, his lips pulled into a thin line as he scrubs at the spot on his cheek vash had kissed—as though you aren't all perfectly aware of the pleased flush staining the tips of his ears. nicholas has every reason to be wary: vash hadn’t taken much money into town with him, just enough for the few errands he had to run, certainly not enough to explain the splendours he’d returned with.

“you know all the old ladies who sit outside the general store playing bridge?” the blonde asks, his eyes bright behind the lenses of his glasses as he ruffles his untidy hair. “well, one of them stopped me when i was leaving town and asked if i could help put one of her shutters back on since it blew off in that storm last week! once that was done, another one asked if i could look at her well pump because it’s been squeaking so much lately and too hard to turn. i helped out a couple other people while i was in town too! i told them they didn’t have to, but they kept giving me stuff when i was done.”

you feel a smile tug at your lips, peeking over at nicholas beside you to gauge his own reaction. his expression is flat, but you can tell he’s just as amused as you are.

“oh!” vash perks up, his eyes wide. he reaches into the saddle bag and pulls out the bolt of blue fabric you’d been appreciating a moment prior. “this isn’t from them though, it’s from that young couple who live above the post office.”

you know the couple he’s referring to well. they’d just had a baby a few months before, and you’d helped the young wife through her pregnancy and caught the baby when labour finally came. it was a little boy, no bigger than a loaf of bread the first time you’d held him, that they’d named samuel. 

“sammy’s getting big”—vash grins, squishing his own cheeks a little bit with his hands—“super cute and chubby too. they wanted you to have this to say thank you.”

he passes the fabric to you, and you cradle the tightly-wound bundle into the crook of your arm like it’s precious—because it is.

the things vash brought home aren’t enough to live off of indefinitely, but it’s something to help you get by for another little while—at least until another bounty comes through for the boys, or until another mother needs your hand to hold through the quickening of labour. 

it’s something. 

it’s enough for now.

you shoot nicholas a little smirk and he rolls his eyes at your blatant self-satisfaction, at your smugness that you’d been right about finding a way to get by. he looks over at vash who’s watching you both with expectant eyes, waiting eagerly (though perhaps unconsciously) for praise.

after a moment, nicholas plops a hand down into vash’s hair, ruffling it affectionately.

“good job,” he murmurs wryly, removing his hand and pressing a fleeting kiss to the crown he’d just been mussing. vash’s cheeks go pink and pretty at the gesture, teeming with pride. nicholas looks over at you next. “you too, kid.”

you smile, not as brilliant or beaming as vash’s, but with a happiness that’s every bit as sincere.

[shmothman]

Confessional

Pairing: Wolfwood & Reader, Vash/Reader Rating: Explicit (for language and discussion of explicit topics) Words: 773 Tags: gender neutral reader, Wolfwood's stupid portable confessional, trigun 98, reader has a crush on Vash and thinks it's unrequited, Wolfwood is my best friend who makes me want to punch him in the face A/N: this isn't really crack but it sure is stupid!

“You’re brooding,” Wolfwood says, coming to lean against the siding of the building next to you.

You shoot him an annoyed glance. “I'm not brooding.”

He plows forward like he didn’t hear you. “It’s about needle-noggin, ain’t it?”

“No,” you lie, “it’s not.” It’s not about him, or the way you wish he felt even an ounce of what you feel for him, or the way he was so close to you last night while he was drunk and now is keeping a careful distance. It’s not about any of that. Of course it’s not.

“It’d probably help if you confessed your sins,” he says, pulling out that damn ‘portable confessional’ with a shit-eating grin that makes you roll your eyes at the best of times—and now just makes you scoff.

“Yeah,” you reply with biting sarcasm, “I’m sure it would.”

“Come on,” he says, grinning wider. “You know you want to.”

“Not a single part of me wants that, Nic. I don’t even know the however-many-sins-there-are.”

“Seven,” he supplies helpfully, ticking them off on his fingers: “pride, sloth, greed, gluttony, wrath, envy, and—“ he winks at you— “lust.”

You laugh, incredulous. “Right. Okay. You know what? Fuck it.” 

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise as you snatch the confessional from his hands, putting it over your head and crossing your arms over your chest. If he’s gonna be an ass, you’re gonna make him regret it. 

“You wanna hear me confess my fuckin’ sins, Nicholas? Here: hey, father, I’ve been lustful as hell! I can’t even look in his general direction without getting horny! I can’t stop thinking about making out with him, and every time he pulls a trigger I think about his fingers inside me! I wanna fuck him six ways to sunday, in every position imaginable, over and over again until neither of us can walk for days!!” You can’t see his face right now, but you hope you’re making it as red as yours feels—though, damn him, it does feel good to confess this shit to somebody. Even if that somebody is Wolfwood. “I am lustful every minute of every goddamn day, and especially every minute of the night. And, hey, Isn’t masturbation a sin? I’m super guilty of that one. Like super guilty. Like every night guilty. He so much as smiles at me and I’m gonna jack off about it. I want to ride him like a goddamn Tomas, and you know what? I’m so in love with him, it hurts!”

…Well, you’ve sort of lost the plot, now. And you’re feeling much less confident than you were ten seconds ago. You pull the stupid box off your head and hold it back out to Wolfwood, jaw set and face flushed. 

His eyebrows are still sky-high, but he doesn’t quite look like you’ve embarrassed him… just yourself.

“There,” you say with finality. “That’s my confession.”

“Hi guys!” the voice behind you makes the blood drain from your face. Come on. You feel the warmth of him as he comes up behind you—you feel his presence, like you always do. “What’s up?” Vash asks.

Wolfwood’s eyes dart to you, then up to meet Vash’s gaze as he grins predatorily. “Oh, they were just telling me something really funny.” He cocks his head at you, and you want to wipe that damn smile right off his face. “Hey, why don’t you tell Vash what you just told me?”

You’re going to kill him. You’re actually going to kill him. Glaring daggers, you do your best to make your tone cheerful, though it sounds forced even to your own ear. 

“Oh, it really wasn’t that funny!”

“Sure it was,” Wolfwood says, smug as all hell. “Made me laugh, anyhow.”

You grind your teeth.

“I’m sure it was funny, I wanna hear it!” Vash says, and Jesus Christ, why did you ever open your mouth?

“Yeah, he wants to hear it,” Nicholas taunts.

You take a deep breath. “Oh! Hey, uh, I just remembered that Meryl and Milly need me for—um—something! Gotta run!”

With one final death glare thrown Wolfwood’s way, you turn on your heel, pointedly not looking at Vash as you make your completely un-smooth exit—you can’t let him see the way your face is burning.

God. Wolfwood’s never gonna let you live this one down.

Vash frowns as you leave, sure that he’s stepped into something, but not sure what. “What was so funny, Wolfwood?”

Nicholas claps him on the shoulder, the portable confessional set down on the ground. “Believe me,” he says, slipping a cigarette between his lips. “You’re gonna wanna hear it from them.”

[adelha-mathilde]

For all my fellow Trigun fans.

Had this scene in my head all day.

You and Meryl hear sounds of vehement shouting and squeaking coming from the vehicle. So you say you will investigate.

There you find inside the vehicle are Vash and Wolfwood. Both with messy hair and Vash has his coat half off. With Wolfwood cussing up a storm to be yanking at the coat to get it off. Obviously, this looks very suspicious.

Turns out Vash had a huge insect crawl into his coat in the back. So Wolfwood is trying to rescue Vash from the invasion.

You open the door to the vehicle for both men to tumble out onto the ground. The insect soon out of the coat and makes a beeline for anywhere else.

It is up to you whether or not you decide to leave them to Meryl's drilling of what the devil they are doing making so much noise for both to try to explain themselves. Or for you to take advantage of the situation and drag either (or both) men back into the vehicle for other reasons that make cars bounce and squeak.

[chris-continues]

Good Luck Kisses

SPECIAL THANKS to @linkdedruid for beta reading!

TW: suggestive (making out + nothing explicitly sexual stated or written)

TAGS: @millionsvash @vashfantasy @beanibon @astrathecowboy @captaintweet @lune010 @h4venpha (I hope you enjoy this! <3)

NOTES: I’m planning on writing a part two during/after the concert with Livio! I had sm fun writing this hehe :) note that Livio and Wolfwood are platonic since they are brothers.

Inspired by this

“Kiss please?” Vash wraps his arms around your waist, drumsticks tossed onto the couch out back as his voice rumbles against your neck. His nose is already nuzzling against you, lips brushing your neck tentatively.

“What, so you can use me as your good luck charm?”

“Baby..” he whines, but soon he’s grinning. You can feel it, his smiley cold against your skin. Then you smell the smoke. You’re fucked. Perhaps literally. Your other boyfriend’s hands, hot, heavy, and calloused from playing guitar grasp your hips and spin you so your back is against his chest. The metal of his rings against your flushed skin sends shivers up your spine as he mouths at your neck. “Give needle noggin what he wants, you tease.”

“You’re-“ shit, you have to take a breath, “you’re calling me the tease?” Ah, the goddamn irony.

The slightly acrid smell of smoke presses closer to you, persisting. The heat of both him and Vash only serve to make you squirm further. Vash’s flesh hand rises to cup the left side of your face, his prosthetic settling on top of Wolfwood’s on your hip.

“Please?” He pleads, and fuck, if that isn’t the best thing you’ve ever heard. “..need you, mayfly. Every show goes well when you kiss me, please baby..” his voice shifts to a whine. He’s so beautiful, long eyelashes kissing his cheeks as he bats them to look at you with a slight pout.

“C’mon, sweetheart..” Wolfwood’s voice rumbles by your ear, his stubble against you. It’s almost comical how your knees almost buckle from their collective ministrations of just pressing close to you and speaking- especially when you truly didn’t need any convincing to kiss them, you’d do it any day.

But fuck, them convincing you was hot as hell.

Wolfwood’s thumb runs circles against your hip, lifting the hem of your shirt slightly. The sensation is addictive, and you can’t help but lean back against him.

He clicks his tongue, “Listen to blondie,” the bridge of his nose is pressed to the side of your face, brushing the high point of your cheekbone, “Or I’ll stop and leave ya high and dry.”

At this, Vash simply presses closer so his lips are brushing yours, prompting you to just press the slightest bit closer.

And they call you the tease. Hypocrites.

When you finally lean in to initiate, he keens happily and eagerly presses into you, pushing you further into Wolfwood whose tongue is languid against your neck. The sensation of both of their tongue piercings on the sensitive skin of your neck makes you gasp, which Vash quickly uses to his advantage as he sandwiches you tighter between him and Wolfwood.

They’re both dizzying, making you feel lightheaded- as if you’re ascending onto some astral plane or whatever. Love, you guess. They’re so sweet, so loving, caring, and make you feel so full. Pressing close to them like this isn’t enough, you need to melt into them and simply be one. To feel them against you all the time. You’d never minded being their good luck charm, using that as an excuse to pull more kisses from you. It’s a funny bit, one that allows Vash to pepper kisses onto your face, or for Wolfwood to kiss you stupid against a wall before tickling you like the ass he is.

Wolfwood’s hands run up your sides (not tickling you this time), dipping under your shirt to caress the skin and returning so his thumbs dimple your hips in a way he absolutely loves to articulate to you with heavy breaths,

“You love the way my hands engulf you? Hm?”

“Y- yeah,” your voice is breathy and light thanks to Vash who pulls you back for more, a high pitched whine escaping his throat. You can feel Wolfwood’s groan rumble from his chest at the sight, staccato tapping and drumming of his fingers on your hips as the calluses on his fingertips run across your midriff. Their touches are languid and all encompassing, engulfing you whole and each sensation is almost too much, yet there’s always the desire and need for more. Wolfwood’s words remain ever so salacious, muttering filthy sentiments to you that work both you and Vash up. It’s funny- you’d consider Vash to be a smooth talker but Wolfwood has a way with words in private, cutting to the chase and managing to let loose even more. "So soft.." Vash whines, the noises of your lips meeting growing more obscene by the second. His tongue piercing chills you, cold metal a definite contrast to his soft yet chapped lips. "..'y always feel so good mayfly," fuck, why did they want to rile you up like this right before a show? How much time did you even have? They still needed to rehearse and- god, it's hard to focus when you're lightheaded from the two of them toying with you. A small squeak from the corner of the room catches Wolfwood's attention- his irritated groan turns into a snicker. "Hey, Liv. Care to join?" You can practically picture the shit eating grin on his face. (Knowing him, he's half joking. ) If you didn't enjoy seeing your other other boyfriend flustered, you'd pity him. "Meryl, uh, sent me to get you guys. Gotta rehearse 'n whatnot.." His breath hitches when you try to pull away from Vash to look at him- in dissent, he openly whines into your mouth. Goddamn tease. "But you're uh, busy, so-" "Livio.." It's painfully obvious how he stiffens up, almost as if he's touched a live wire. Like he's been shocked. You had such an effect on him, and Vash was gracious enough to pull away to allow you to call out to him. His eyes are fixated on both you and Vash, an audible gulp erupting as Wolfwood only watches in amusement. "Hurry up! Are we having a show or not?" Meryl yells out for you all, "We're waiting!" Vash pulls away, to his dismay, his eyes soft as he gifts you with a goodbye peck and starts to head out with Livio. "He'll make it up to you after the show, I'll make sure he doesn't chicken out." Wolfwood mutters, moving a hand to your back pocket, "Meet me later, though?" A chaste kiss is pressed to the crown of your head as you give your assent, nodding happily. That is, until he squeezes your ass- "Hey!" You playfully nudge him with your elbow, to which he only chuckles.

"Blondie forgot his drum sticks." He clicks his tongue to his teeth, "You mind pickin' them up?" With his cheeky smile, you can't help but roll your eyes at his ulterior motives. Your boyfriend really was an ass man, huh. Nevertheless you indulge him, bending to grab the aforementioned drumsticks and returning to Wolfwood's side, readying yourselves for the night ahead.

[kaehunterart]

"I'm tryin' to sleep here!"

Barely half a minute of silence passes before Wolfwood heaves an annoyed sigh, eyes still closed. "Chrissakes, spikey, don't give me that look."

"What loo- You don't know what look I'm giving you, I could be looking at anything!"

"Psh, you know I can tell. I told ya, I'm fine, I just need some shuteye. Gimme a break already, would ya?"

This time the quiet lasts a whole minute.

"Ugh, fuck's sake. C'mere." Wolfwood motions Vash closer, and uses the last of his strength to sling an arm around his neck. "Now quit bein' such a worrywort. If I stop breathin' or somethin', then you can wake me up." His head drops heavy on Vash's shoulder, asleep again before the legendary gunslinger has a chance to react.

[novemberfyshenuke]

Unofficial Introduction to a Trigun AU

"When a star dies, the explosion blows the dust across the universe, birthing creatures of many. It bestows them as a gift to those forming giants in the sky, like a flame to continue passing their ancestry.

Plants, Worms, humans, all kinds.

Like those beings, the moons were also gifts to keep them company, to guide those beings below; because the moon is believed to be just and unbiased.

Of course that is a lie. Those beings below quickly learn of this truth, referring to it as the sign of illusion. A falsehood. A comfort meant to distract.

And that is why they were offered to our universe. For the moons, much like the other things we've seen or have yet to experience, are to distract the planets of their ends. To distract all from the explosion that will consume them when the time finally comes."

—excerpt from my brain

this has been sitting in my computer files for a while since I never got around to making a comic for it. I have to fix a few details tho

Gahaha I don't want to rush it and f up the details by being too excitedg ruhrughrhg

[fruitsoxs]

Hello different anon here to request one of my favorite things: reverse jealousy. How would the two lads feel about the reader feeling jealous over them?

sorry this took so long to do!! I made it a bit longer to make up for it <3

pairings: vash x reader , wolfwood x reader

warnings: once again there's some angst, insecurity, self doubt, swearing, wolfwood has some feelings, reader is a bit of a dumb ass in vash's part haha

notes: i kinda went off with this?? it didn't go where I thought it would that's for sure haha.

Vash

There’s a small fire that builds up inside of you every time this person touches Vash. It’s an anger you can’t really describe. It has you feeling jittery and useless. They aren’t being forceful with him, and he seems okay with the soft touches. That just makes you more uncomfortable as you walk behind the two of them. 

They’re probably just thankful. Vash did just save their life. Anybody would be thankful if a handsome stranger ran in and ripped you away from a bunch of bandits. Especially on a planet like Gunsmoke, where everybody is only worried about themselves. There aren’t very many selfless heroes like Vash, so when they come around you tend to be thankful.

But there’s something about the way their hand lingers on his arm after they stumble closer to him. Or how they keep interrupting you, making it feel like you can’t talk. They seem to be pushing you into the background as you walk across the desert planet towards the nearest town. Despite there being enough room for you to join the two side by side, you feel like your place is behind them. 

Glaring at both of their backs with, you clench your fists lightly. The town is close enough, you can see the buildings in the distance. Soon this person will be back home, and they’ll be just a minor detail in Vash’s adventure. While you’ll be by his side, helping him the entire way. That thought should help you feel better. It should help calm your nerves.

But then, their fingers reach out towards his hand, and you feel the fire build up again. 

Jealousy rears its ugly head.

The worst part? You aren’t angry that they’re flirting with him. You’re angry that you can’t be this bold. You have been traveling with him for months now. You’ve become one of his closest friends. He trusts you. He cares for you. He has proven that he will do anything to keep you safe. And yet, you can’t even find the courage to hold his hand. This stranger, who’s known him for a few hours at most, is doing something you have always wished you could do.

RIght before their fingers touch Vash’s metal ones you clear your throat. Vash turns to you with a smile. He arches an eyebrow, probably able to read your bad mood. “You okay back there?” he asks softly. The stranger retracks their hand and looks at you too. 

“Uh yeah. I was just wondering how you ended up out here anyway.” You mumble. Embarrassed, you try to find a conversation starter that makes you look less stupid. The person shrugs and looks ahead again. “Sometimes I come out here to find spare parts. You’d be surprised how much useful junk is just laying around in the sand.” They explain looking up at Vash.

Vash nods. “Yeah that makes sense. Sorry you got caught up with those guys. They didn’t hurt you did they?” he asks, looking the person over. “Maybe a few bruises, but I’m tough. You managed to save me just in time!” They exclaim. Vash rubs the back of his neck, blushing a bit. “We couldn’t just leave you out there!”

‘I could.’ you think for a second, before guilt floods your senses. Why are you acting like this?

You pause for a second, and watch the two continue to walk. They don’t even notice that you’ve stopped walking. The stranger says something that makes Vash laugh, his cheeks turning red. They step a bit closer to Vash, and he doesn’t seem to mind. This is too much for you.

You continue walking, a few steps behind them now. Your head hands low, and your heart drops. 

As the three of you walk towards the town, the suns start to drop. The air gets a bit cooler, and the world goes eerily quiet. The town is already empty, except for a few drunken wanderers who stumble through the streets. There’s probably a bar or tavern somewhere that’s filled with idiots drinking and singing.

The stranger leads the two of you up to their doorstep. They turn around and face Vash. “This is me.” they smile softly, their eyes only on your blonde companion. “Glad you got home safe.” Vash responds, a sense of relief in his eyes. “Thanks for making sure I’m okay. I owe you.” They whisper, and you know they aren’t talking to you. “It’s really no problem. It’s what I- It’s what we do.” It’s sweet how he tries to include you even when you’re clearly not wanted.

The person smiles, and leans in close to him for a second. They pull him down to their level and press their lips against his cheep. Your blood freezes, and you look away.

“Stop by the next time you’re in town. Okay?” They mumble before leaving you and Vash standing there. Vash is a bit awestruck, his face a bright red. You feel like you might punch the next person who walks by, or break down and cry, Whatever comes first. The situation has left you completely and utterly upset. Every fiber of your being wants to run off into the night time and scream.

Instead you just stand there with your jaw clenched tightly.

“They were really nice…” Vash points out turning to you with a smile. You find yourself scoffing. “Yeah to you.” you point out and begin to walk away. Vash follows you closely, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, and you feel a little bad. He looks like a little puppy who’s just been yelled at.

“I mean they clearly were happy that you specifically saved them. You know?” You mumble, a bit softer now. He stops and looks back, a bi of confusion woven into his features. “What?” he asks, looking at you again. “They liked you, Vash.”  You explain fully. His eyes widen and his cheeks turn pink again. “I-I don’t think so. I think they were just thankful I saved them-” He begins to rant, clearly flustered.

You sigh and stop to look at him. “They made it pretty obvious. I mean, they sure didn’t kiss my cheek. Did they?” He looks at you shocked, his brain jumping through hoops to try and explain the kiss. His eyebrows are furrowed as he looks down at your sour expression. 

Suddenly a small smile stretches across his lips as he steps forward. He’s put your sour mood since you saved that person together now. He knows you’re jealous. “Well, I guess I’m flattered then. But…I’ve got my eyes on someone already.” he tells you a certain look you can’t place in his eye. 

Now it’s your turn to be confused. “What? Who?” You ask, a bit too quickly. He laughs and shakes his head at you. “Someone pretty cool. They’re basically my best friends.” He explains. Your eyes widen as a new type of pain floods your senses. So he likes someone else, AND he has another best friend?

“Who is this person?” You ask, completely upset.

Vash just sighs, a small smile on his face. He walks closer and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. His hand gently combs through your hair

Your heart is suddenly leaping within your chest. 

“It’s you.”

Wolfwood

Your finger nails dig into the soft skin on your thighs softly as you watch the scene in front of you unfold. You watch silently as Wolfwood mutters something in this random girl’s ear, making her giggle. She responds by leaning in close, giving him a shy smile. He wraps his arm around her and whispers something else- something you couldn’t hear if you tried. They’re too close now, and you feel your heart plummet into your stomach.

This shouldn’t be much of a surprise at this point. This man does this a lot. He likes to walk off the moment the group finds a place to rest, and try his luck with whoever will give him the time of day. Most of  the time his advances are accepted because, as much as you hate to admit it, Wolfwood is handsome. He’s got a nice looking face, and a well toned body. Plus he can be sickeningly charming sometimes, with his unmatched wit and cute little nicknames. Anybody would fall for him. 

Despite how common this little scene is, it still makes your chest feel tight. You’re uncomfortable, but you can’t look away. The drink you had ordered to help cool you off is left untouched, growing warmer by the second. You just don’t feel like you can stomach anything right now. You feel sick, and upset. 

You’re…well, you’re jealous.

It’s something you’ve come to terms with awhile ago. You have feelings for your weird and mysterious traveling partner. You can only share so many tender moments with him dressing your wounds (or vice versa) before affections arise. You’ve shared enough moments with him where your heart beats uncomfortably fast to understand your feelings. It sucks.

The others have left you to stew in your feelings, knowing that once you get this way there’s no pulling you out. Meryl has tried so many times to convince you to let loose and ignore Wolfwood. She’s tried telling you to go dance with a stranger, or flirt with your own handsome man. “You’re attractive.” She would say. “Anybody here would be on their knees the moment you tried talking to them.” You can’t though. Not even if you wanted to.  There’s a deep insecurity that takes over your brain every time you watch the man you love flirt aimlessly with another. It makes you doubt yourself to a degree you have never experienced. Are you not good enough? Not pretty enough? Are you boring? What is it about you that isn’t enough? These thoughts seem to flood your mind, and no amount of alcohol could subside them

Your eyes drift down to his arm resting on the girl's side, his fingers lightly pressing against her. It makes you want to vomit. You wish so desperately to be the one he touches like that, and it sickens you. How stupid are you? Pining after a man who flirts with other people so easily. This man would never give you the time of day- despite how sweet he can seem sometimes.

You grab the drink from the table and hold it to your lips, drinking it all in one go. It burns your throat. It’s not enough. Without missing a beat, another cup lands in front of you. You give a thankful nod to the bartender, then down that drink too. Your thoughts are getting clouded and fuzzy as a light buzz starts to overcome you.

You look over at Wolfwood again. This time though, your eyes meet his. He smiles when the eye contact is made. A sly smirk that makes your blood boil. It’s like he knows your feelings, and he’s rubbing it in your face. You frown and turn away. 

What an asshole.

What should you do? You clearly aren’t having fun. The alcohol isn’t helping you loosen up, it’s actually making things feel worse. That girl is pressed up against Wolfwood, and you’re sure you might throw up or cry if you continue watching. Maybe you should leave. Go find a quiet place to relax? Yeah that’s a good idea. You leave your payment for the drinks on the counter and walk out of the building, into the chilly night air. For how hot it normally is on this harsh planet, the nights can get deadly cold. 

You lean against the railing and sigh softly. It’s just not your night.

The sound of a door opening and closing brings you out of your little moment of peace, and the familiar smell of cigarettes makes your nose wrinkle. Wolfwood walks up next to you, flicking his lighter. He rests his elbows against the railing and leans forward.

“Why’d you run off?” He asks after a couple minutes of silence. 

You look at him through the side of your eye for a moment, taking in his features. He looks so soft in the moonlight. Far different right now than how he always seems. A hint of warmth under the cold exterior he seems to always parade around. A side of him that he only lets you see.

“Needed some fresh air.” You finally answer, looking away. He’s really the last person you want to see right now. “Aren’t you missing somebody?” You ask, the alcohol makes you bolder than normal. There’s a sense of anger in your voice you can’t hide.

“You mean that girl?” He asks his hand going to his chin as if he’s thinking. “Just wasn’t feeling it. Why?” That sly smirk is back. “You feeling a little jealous?” His voice is quiet. He’s not looking at you, not entirely. He sometimes flickers his eye over to you, probably to see how you react.

Your eyes snap up to him, and a new anger surges through you. You can’t believe this man! He’s such a…a.. “You’re an asshole.” You say out loud, turning to look at him. Tears threaten to fall from the corners of your eyes.

“Is that a yes?” He goes to tease you, but when he turns to face you he stops dead in his tracks. His eyes meet with yours. His smile drops and a myriad of emotions go through his eyes. Confusion, surprise, then worry. He turns his body to you, and lets the bud of his cigarette fall to the ground. You remain tense, and quiet. You find yourself unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh.”

That’s all he says for a while. It seems he understands your feelings now. His hands clench and unclench, as he looks away. There’s a silence that takes over now. It’s awkward and tense. 

You grow tired of the moment, and let out a soft sigh. You knew he’d react like this. You knew there was no way he’d feel the same way. It’s still heartbreaking though. Your stomach is in ruins, and it feels like all of the air has been sucked out of you. Curse whatever created you for making you feel so utterly helpless in this situation.

You turn to leave, but his hand finds your wrist and he pulls you back. “Don’t- Just give me a second.” He sighs, and his hand slips away. You stay put, despite the fact you desperately want to escape. He pulls out another cigarette and holds the lighter up to his lips, lighting it. The glow shows off his conflicted eyes.

He takes a deep breath, and then lets it go.

“You’re too good for me.” He says finally. “I”m…not  the type of guy you should fall in love with.” His words are filled with an emotion you’ve never heard from him. This is a new Wolfwood. “I’ve done stuff…” he cuts himself off and looks in the opposite direction of you. “Sweetheart I…I…” he’s struggling to find the words. He takes a deep breath and then-

“Fuck it.”

He whips around. He grabs the cigarette from his lips with one hand, and the other clutches onto the back of your head. It happens too fast for you to understand completely , but he pulls you close and his lips catch yours. It’s a soft kiss. 

He pulls away and leaves you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. His hand is still cradling the back of your head. He stares down at you, his dark eyes trying to convey to you what he’s struggling to say out loud. He loves you too.

[bendycxmet]

Drive—Nicholas D. Wolfwood

drabble: riding passenger seat while Wolfwood drives gives you a front row view of how he handles the wheel of the car.

content: 525 words. a lil thirsty, wolfwood's hands, wolfwood is always a tease to me, nothing explicit just some thirst

a/n: something something wolfwood's hand. i thought about this while i was driving and just had to get it out of my system lmao

Riding in the car with Wolfwood is always…something else. His driving is smooth, don't get him wrong. Although, he can’t know that for the sake of your sanity. He would brag about it for days until you contemplated jumping ship. No, riding in the passenger seat can be such a treat. 

You were supposed to be looking at the paper map in your hands to determine which direction Wolfwood should be driving to get to the next town, but your eyes were certainly not on the map. 

Your eyesight instead was glued to Wolfwood’s hands on the wheel. The way his tanned hands caressed it, lightly grazing the edges with his nimble fingertips, suddenly gripping the wheel to swerve out of the way of a half-buried Wam. 

The strength in his hands was shown in the way his veins were accentuated, his sunkissed skin pulled taut from the force in which he was gripping the wheel. The muscular cords in his forearms flexed as he wrestled the car back into a straight path, returning to his relaxed position as his fingers lightly drummed against the wheel to a tune you could not place. 

You’ve seen him manhandle the Punisher, slinging the hefty cross all around his body as if it weighed nothing. Yet, he handled it with such grace that you could’ve believed the steel weapon was made from scraps of cardboard he had found lying around, sliding his hands up and down the cross as if he were worshipping the very thing that brought so much destruction when in use. However, seeing his hands stroke a circular piece of a rusty, old car also did things to your mind and body you hated to admit. 

If he handles objects like this, how would he handle-

You struggled to swallow the lump in your throat, a dryness not caused by the sweltering heat of the two suns in the sky. Letting your imagination run wild like this was not helping, especially since you were stuck in a car with him for who knows how long. You force your previous thoughts to sizzle out into nothingness, willing the phantom touches of tanned, sturdy hands across your body to dissipate. You shift in your seat as you take in the sight in front of you one last time, peeling your eyes away before he could notice. 

Too late. 

“Know where we’re headed? Or did you enjoy looking at me more than that map in your hands?”

“Asshole,” you tsked, heat blooming across your face as you throw the map up in front of your eyes, obscuring your reddened face from Wolfwood’s eyes.

He peeked at you from the corner of his eyes, chuckling darkly. He was up to something.

His right hand moved from the wheel to the gear shift, grazing two fingers over the stick, rubbing and encircling the roundness at the top before gripping it. Your eyes didn’t miss his sudden movements, teeth clenching at the subtle, obscene gestures. 

“Whatever town we’re headed to, I hope the hotel patrons won’t mind us for the night.”

The undertones of his statement had your eyes widening.

“...right.”

pt. 2 is here folks

masterlist

divider by saradika

[trigunwritings]

Names and Things

Rating: General

Relationship: Fem!Reader/Vash/Wolfwood

Summary: On the way home, Vash and Wolfwood argue.

Written by @blood--hunter

Note: A continuation of Bad Habits, but it’s not necessarily canon unless you, the reader, want it to be. The reader is married to Vash and Wolfwood. Implied to be pregnant. Never shown.

“Can’t believe you forgot the car…” Wolfwood grumbled, adjusting the rope over his shoulder. It was one thing to have to carry his weapon, but something else entirely to drag a man halfway across the desert.

Vash has the decency to at least look a little ashamed.

“Well, forgot is a strong word.”

“You got it fucking stolen. Didn’t you?”

His husband reamains quiet and Wolfwood can only shake his head. “You’re the reason I need to smoke.”

The leader of the Glass-Gang is still passed out, so there’s that. His luck wasn’t all bad today and there was the thought of returning home to their wife with full pockets and a job well done. That—at the very least—lifted his spirits.

“So,” Wolfwood says, trying to focus on something other than the near unbareable heat, “I was thinking Leon D. Wolfwood.”

Vash bulks, swinging his blond head around to look at him. “Who says he’s gonna get your last name!”

“Because I’m the only one who has one! Dumbass!”

“Well!” Vash stalls, obivously trying to think of a comeback as he pouts, “What about Kevin the Stampede?”

“Kevin? Really.”

His husband nods resolutely, “Or maybe—maybe something like Colton!”

“You just really want a hard ‘K’ sound, don’t you?”

“Yeah! I think it sounds cool!”

Wolfwood rolls his eyes and looks back as the man he had been tugging across the sand begins to stir.

“Looks like our bounty is waking up.”

Vash eyes the man as well before looking at Wolfwood with a smile, “Why don’t we ask him? Hey! Do you like Leon or Kevin?”

“Huh?” Is all the gang leader says.

Nicholas shakes his head, passing the rope to Vash.

“I’ve been dragging him for half a mile now. You take him.”

“No way!”

“You’re the one that lost the car!”

Vash takes the rope, pouting. Nick can only watch him, one brow raised. He didn’t dare slip a cigarette into his mouth, knowing that it would just end up flying into the desert like a piece of paper. Though, his fingers did itch for the lighter in his pocket.

“And if it’s a girl?” He asks, not thinking.

Vash gets that far away look on his face, the look he gets when he or their wife accidentally trips on something from his past. She’s always better at soothing him, but Wolfwood doesn’t know what to do in these situations, too used to being “tough” and not letting these things get to him.

“Rem. We’ll name her Rem.”

He’s silent for a few moments more, letting the sun beam down on the back of his neck. “Yeah. I think I like that.”

“I think Kevin sounds good.”

Both Vash and Nick swing their heads around, staring at the man half unconcious in the sand, a rope firmly around his middle.

“Yeah, maybe Leon isn’t so bad…” Vash murmurs, beginning to walk once more, the gang leader slowly being dragged after him.

“Told you … Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Ask her and find out! But I don’t think she’ll go for the middle initial.”

“D is not that bad!”

“…What does it even stand for anyways?”

[astra-dark]

(Random Vashwood resurrection AU drabble thing)

“You know,” Vash slurred. “They say that a mole is where your lover in your past life kissed you a lot.”

It was just a drunk man’s small talk. He probably wouldn’t even remember he said it in the morning But that didn’t stop Wolfwood’s blood from running cold in his veins. His eyes flicked down to the arms of his new body, taking stock of each mark on his exposed skin. Two larger dots adorn his left palm and inner wrist, one on his right shoulder and bicep, Another in the crook of his neck. Each spot he could vividly remember the feeling of a set of soft lips pressed to his flesh, branding him with love that he didn’t deserve.

His eyes returned to the blond beside him. Vash smiled back at him, Clearly happy to have Wolfwood’s full attention again. He couldn’t help but stare at the other man’s face. The slight dip in his lips and the twin dimples that graced his cheek were just like his Vash. Before he could think not to, Wolfwood found himself Leaning forward in his seat and closer to Vash, his eyes locked on the other man’s mouth. Vash gave a little gasp as Wolfwood entered his space, it was a barely audible sound but Wolfwood knew it’s meaning well: surprise and anticipation. Oh, how he missed that sound.

Wolfwood watched as Vash’s throat bobbed as wolfwood began to close the distance between them. Everything he did reminded him so much of his Vash that Wolfwood’s heart ached painfully behind his ribs But this Vash wasn’t his. They had only just met and both of them were far into their drinks. Wolfwood changed course at the last second, his lips finding the beauty mark beneath Vash’s eye instead of the other man’s mouth. “Your past lover musta liked kissing you here then, huh?” Wolfwood said against Vash’s skin. Before he could have a chance to respond, Wolfwood rose from his seat, flicked open his wallet and tossed down enough double dollars on the bar to pay for both of their tabs.

Wolfwood was halfway out the door before Vash blinked out of his stupor. “N-Nicholas, wait!” He jumped from his seat to follow after Wolfwood but the world suddenly tipped sideways and he had to catch the back of his chair to stop himself from falling. Wolfwood shot him a wave over his shoulder without turning back. “‘Night, Blondie,” Wolfwood called. “Maybe I’ll see ya ‘round sometime.”

Without another word, Wolfwood slipped outside, leaving his lover’s doppelgänger to watch him disappeared into the night.

[raddelusionaldive]

A/N: I see one Wolfwood and now he’s back running fucking laps in my little (needle) noggin.

What’s funny is I wrote that and then passed the fuck out so I have no idea what I was going to write about. I started literally typing and then boom knock out. None of it saved.

Some thoughts of mine that bleed into other fandoms:

So it’s Nicholas D Wolfwood in Trigun. In one piece though they talk about the “Will of D” so having D as a middle initial. I wonder if that has any significance for Wolfwood himself.

OOOOH I REMEMBER WHAT I WAS ON ABOUT NOW!!

So because there’s the manga, the og 90’s anime, and now Stampede, I had this little thought.

I’ve read the manga as well as watched the shows and am now waiting for Stargaze(?). What if throughout each one Vash remembers the older version ex: Stampede remembers what happens all the way back to the first manga. Which would mean he would’ve had to lose Rem and Wolfwood 2-3 times by now. Imagine how gut wrenching that’d be remembering your sort of mom and best friend die. Poor Vash…

[tomatoswup]

when

summary: the when's and development of your feelings for a certain typhoon.

warnings: angst? more bittersweet really

A/N: honestly, this was a quick drabble after finishing notes for class :D since it was just a quick idea, i didn't really develop into a whole backstory and stuff without getting ahead of myself lmao but angst? yes(my first attempt) also was listening to tame impala's "For the First Time" as I wrote this so that kinda explains alot, enjoy!

When you first started gaining feelings for Vash, it was a night filled with thought and contemplation from your own head. Was this right? He was your best friend for god sake! No, you can't like him. It's not that you didn't want to, you couldn't. Your mind told you to hold back, to stop whatever was developing in you about the typhoon. And as much as you didn't want to accept it, you were in denial. The pair of you have traveled together for so long but you never got tired of the mischievous glint in his eyes, and the toothy smile he would shoot at you. You found it..cute.

In your own words, Vash was too considerate for a world that put their back to him, and you found it admirable.

You clenched the jacket you wore tightly as the snores of your caravan filled the night behind a large rock you sat behind. Maybe you needed the priest to pray for you...

When you started accepting your feelings for him, it felt as if your stomach constantly hurt every time you'd stand too near to him. And honestly, Vash had been the first crush you've had in a real long time and that flustered you a bit more. Whenever he'd put his hands on your shoulders, the familiar sensation of electricity ran up your back to which he'd curiously ask why your face had flushed red. Were you sick? He recommended a day off from working around with Wolfwood. Of course he did. when he walked away, you couldn't help but quickly cover your face with your hands.

When you noticed the difference, it kind of...hurt. The fact that he had become more affectionate with Meryl, seeking to find her side and accompany her more than he had with you. Was that a hand-hold? You felt a minor tinge in your heart. But that was okay! You guys were still best friends! Why were you feeling some type of way about it? You should be supporting him! You try to shrug the thought off and continue walking behind them as that little toothy smile you loved and had thought was reserved for just you, was given to another. You smiled on to the both of them, ignoring the growing ache in your chest.

When Wolfwood finally noticed the change in your behavior whenever you gazed at the pair, you had already fallen deep into the heavy pressure that resided in your heart. You didn't want to stop Vash from going after Meryl. What kind of person would you be if you did? Wolfwood confronts you as you had temporarily stepped away one night as everyone took camp in the dry deserts of No Man's Land. And as the more questions Wolfwood asked you, the more your throat felt as if it wanted to burn. And it wasn't until he asked a singular question, that you broke. You sobbed as the ache in your chest got unbearable and so heavy your stomach dropped to the floor and the familiar feeling of wanting to throw up arose. Wolfwood sighs and takes a seat next to you, rubbing your back as you leaned onto him for support.

"Is it needle-noggin and Meryl?"

When Vash and Meryl got officially together and Vash had come to break the news to you, you couldn't help but give him a pained smile, not even attempting to speak in fear of a tear falling out. and he asks what's wrong? Were you feeling okay? Did you need help? And he gives you that same toothy-nervous grin when you shake your head in fake reassurance.

oh how you missed that smile.

[chris-continues]

Howdy Howdy Chris!

My request for you is......

Any Trigun folks of your choosing reactions when they accidentally brush hands with their crush. They're all so baby about it.

VASH jumps, bringing the hand to the back of his neck and sadly (but also thankfully) out of your reach. You wouldn’t want to hold hands with him, after all. He finds himself attempting to recreate the touch, his other hand grazing the other but it’s not the same. It’s not your warmth, your grace, your- It’s not you. The way your touch tingles and he wishes for it to remain, to be firm, not fleeting touches he must settle for.

WOLFWOOD looks down, cheeky smile before taking your hand in his. He’s peeking at you from the corner of his eye, watching your reaction. “Don’t wanna get lost in the crowd, huh?” (He comes up w/ some bullshit excuse to stay holding your hand. Dork.) His hand is heavy and calloused in your own, comforting in its own right. It’s another feature about him you find likable, a simple comfort you find yourself seeking out more often.

MERYL looks up at you, saying nothing despite her more stiffened movements. Her face tinges pink, gaze turning away from you and quite literally anywhere else. She had things to focus on- yeah. Ahem. You guys had things to work on. Yeah. You should be more productive, ahem.

MILLY takes your hand in hers! She’s very sweet, and will let go if you ask, but you’ll have to straight up ask her.. her grip is strong and she’s kinda dense sometimes. If you do mind, no hard feelings, she’s happy to just walk alongside you! If you don’t, expect to hold hands with her more often. She’s really happy to be close with you :) what a sweetheart.

LIVIO’s eyes widen as he almost full body freezes mid step, swallowing thickly before attempting to continue walking beside you. His eyes dart around the area like crazy, continuing to loom beside you acting as a gentle giant bodyguard for you.

KNIVES curls away in disgust. Scoot over, he turns away and wipes his hand on his leg (dramatic much??)

Idk much about legato so @abject-indulgence I’ll toss the legato thoughts to you!