#and he grunts out wolfwood

[rush-the-stars]

C I E L O . 🧍🏾‍♀️

amira

this is about bounty hunter wolfwood isn’t it 😁😁

[fruitsoxs]

I don't know how comfortable you are with voyeurism but the thought of Vash secretly watching reader get fucked by Wolfwood is hot.

so- uh- yeah...

PART 2

pairing; vash x (GN AFAB)reader x wolfwood warnings; smut, !NSFW MINORS DNI! , voyeurism, choking, hair pulling, uhhh wolfwood is a bit rough notes; this got out of hand at the end- im so sorry (or you're welcome) spoiler; wolfwood knows the entire time

He shouldn’t be watching this.

Vash’s eyes are wide as he peaks around the corner. His face is a deep shade of red. He really shouldn’t be watching this. He can’t help it though. Each slap of skin brings out the sweetest sound moans from your pretty lips. How are you able to make such angelic noises  while doing such a dirty act? Vash will never know. He feels his body shake as he watches Wolfwood grab your legs and push them back, slamming deeper into you.

The door had been unlocked. 

He was fully prepared to walk into the room and witness Wolfwood passed out like normal. Instead he had walked in on the man holding a person down against the mattress, fucking the life out of them. So into it, they didn’t even notice the door opening as Vash walked inside.His eyes widened at the scene, and he was fully prepared to high tail it out of there until he heard your voice call out in such a sweet way.

“Wolfwood~” You had cried. The man’s name falling from your lips like you had said it many times before. Had you? Vash had been a little too focused on other things to really notice how close the two of you had gotten. His mind elsewhere as the person he loved slowly bonded with the man he considered his best friend.It should hurt him, seeing such a scene, but there is no jealousy in his gut as he watches Wolfwood ram his dick inside of you. 

“O-Oh. Oh. God!” You yell, throwing your head back as Wolfwood picks up his pace. His tan skin is slick with sweat, and he’s got this tiny smirk on his lips. “Is God the one fucking you Angel?” The man asks, slowing down. 

“N-No.” you answer, your voice so weak. “Who is?” “You.”

Wolfwood grunts and grabs your face, forcing your eyes back on him. “Then keep that name out of your mouth, and keep your eyes on me.” he commands. You let out a soft whine and nod. His hands move from your cheeks down to your throat. Vash’s throat goes dry. He really shouldn’t be watching this. It would be so easy to leave. To turn around and exit the room, but he’s stuck. His hands shake slightly at his sides as he feels the warmth travel down to his cock. He’s hard. He’s so hard he has to shove his hand down his pants to shift it around.

Vash bites his lip as he watches your eyes flicker open and closed. Your lips are parted, and he can tell you’re close. So can Wolfwood, as his pace picks up again. His dark eyes narrow as he tightens his hand around your neck. You let out a choked moan and try desperately to warn him, but the man doesn’t let go. Not until you’re cumming around his cock. “Fuck. Good. What a good little Angel you are.” Wolfwood praises you, letting his hand drop so you can breathe better. He doesn’t stop though. Vash is suddenly reminded how much stamina his friend has. The two of you could be at this for awhile

His mind starts to drift and he presses the palm of his hand against his hard on. You left the door unlocked, and are fucking in the room him and wolfwood were supposed to share? And with how intensely Wolfwood is fucking you, it seemslike you weren’t planning on having a random quickie. It’s almost like you two wanted to be caught but- Ah. He shouldn’t think like that. That’s so..gross.

And yet his hand is stroking himself inside of his pants.

You let out a gasp, as Wolfwood pulls out and spins you around, pushing your head into the pillow on the end of the bed. He grabs your hips and lines himself up again before slamming his cock inside of you. You scream out, muffled by the pillow as Wolfwood starts at his unrelenting pace again. He keeps his hands on your hips, digging his fingernails into the soft skin. 

Wolfwood is rough when he fucks you, and you seem to like it. He picks up his hand and slaps it against your plump ass. Vash has to hold himself back from moaning by digging his teeth into his bottom lip. Why is this so…hot? Vash’s pupils dilate and he finds himself wishing he could crawl over and join in. He wants to lift your head up by your hair, and shove his cock into your mouth ans Wolfwood fucks you from behind.

He hisses out as his hand strokes himself faster and faster. The noises you’re making are so pretty- It’s unfair. He wishes he could help in drawing them out of you. He wants to make you scream his name too. If he could, he’d make you say both of their names over and over again. The thought makes his hand jerk a bit, letting out a warm breath as he presses his back to the door. He can’t believe he’s doing this. He’s watching.

Wolfwood slows down, and reaches over to grab a handful of your hair, lifting your head up. “You’re being so loud, angel.” he murmurs. “What if someone hears us? What if someone hears you screaming my name.” He slams against your cunt. “Oh Wolfwood!” you yell as he does it. He smirks and pulls your hair again. “What if Blondie hears us.” he asks and you moan even louder.

Vash’s eyes widen and he pauses his movements for only a second, before his grip becomes tighter and his strokes become faster. Him? Why would you like that?

“That’s right.” wolfwood grunts and slams into you again. “You want him to hear us don’t yah angel? You want that needle-noggin to walk in on us fucking huh?” he asks you. Vash is not sure if he can handle this any longer. Especially with how loudly you seem to mewl at just the thought of him walking in on you. “Hah. yeah. I see the way you look at him. Maybe I should ask him to join us?” Wolfwood lets go of your hair and goes back to digging his nails into your hips. His movements are a bit sporadic. He must be getting close. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Let Vash and I fuck you like the slut you are?” 

There’s an almost wolfish smile playing on Wolfwood’s lips, and Vash can’t stop his heart from beating. Would you like that? Is what he’s saying true? Vash lets out a small whimper, and Wolfwood’s smile grows. “Why don’t you say his name, angel? Call out for him.” Wolfwood commands

And then from your lips comes the softest, most beautiful little “Vash~” Vash finds himself covered in his own cum instantly, his hips jerking up into his hand. At the same time, you scream out as Wolfwood pumps his cum inside of you. Wolfwood holds you down as he thrusts deep within you, moaning out until he’s empty. You ride out your own orgasm, all but collapsing from the intensity.  

Vash is unsure what to do when Wolfwood looks over at him, that smirk still on his lips.

[anyasathenaeum]

NSFW Trigun Headcanons

A/N: I felt inspired to just kinda punch these out before I start tackling requests. So yeah, please enjoy these LOL my first NSFW writing ever (PLEASE BE NICE)

Warnings: MINORS DNI, nsfw writing, mentions of cunnilingus, penetrative sex, marking, rough sex, etc. etc.

Vash the Stampede

Somebody who absolutely focuses on his partner's pleasure over his own

Like, Vash would absolutely be the type to straight up cum in tandem with his partner when he's been pleasuring them.

He's eating you out/sucking you off? You better believe he's humping into the bed or whatever surface is beneath him as he does so, making his cock leak precum all over, especially hearing your moans and cries of pleasure as he does so

WOULD ABSOLUTELY MOAN INTO YOUR PUSSY/ON YOUR COCK no doubt about it

His noises? THE PRETTIEST

Vash would be the type to cover his mouth with his hand in an attempt to stifle his sounds, because you draw them out of him constantly

"Mmph, (Y/N)... y-yes, like tha-ah!"

You'd absolutely have to pin his hands down to hear those noises more, I lowkey imagine Vash is a little embarrassed at just how noisy he can be

"Now, now, I wanna hear you, Vash."

The blush on his face is unmatched, his whole face red and his blue eyes all shiny as he looks up at you

"O-Okay! Hah-, o-okay, nngh!"

Whines, whimpers, even slight sobs, they're all sounds you'll hear escaping him

As well as calls of your name and passionately proclamations of his love for you

Sex with Vash is always a loving affair, so filled with tenderness and care. It's rare for it to be rushed or purely lustful

Vash would have a hard time leaving marks on you, he doesn't like the notion of hurting you, even at the height of passion

Of course, if you insist, over time, Vash will learn to leave a mark or two on your skin, wherever you'd like him to - your chest, your neck, your thighs

He'd be!!! so!!!! gentle!!!!

Caressing your skin constantly with both his real and his prosthetic, enjoying the feeling of you in his hands

I definitely think he'd cum even if you didn't touch him, especially the first few times you have sex with him

Over time, once you and Vash become more comfortable, there would definitely be moments where you two have rougher rounds

Or, maybe not rougher, per se, but more desperate, less careful

Maybe after Vash has almost lost you or something has almost torn you away from him, he'd be tearing at you desperately, clutching onto your skin, kissing you and marking you freely, tears going down his cheeks as he thrusts into you, savouring the feeling of your skin against his, a reminder that you're still alive and still with him.

"(Y/N), o-oh... (Y/N)... I love you, I- ah! Pl-please don't leave me..."

Nicholas D. Wolfwood

Sex with Wolfwood starts out more as just a purely physical thing - an act you both partake in, but it slowly becomes something more

Wolfwood would lowkey use you as stress relief

He's had a bad day? You'll know by how hard he thrusts into you, his skin slapping against yours, his grunts and moans echoing off the walls of the empty room you two have snuck off to

"Yeah, take it, (Y/N), just like that. Take it!"

This man? Dirty talker extraordinaire, can straight up turn you on with very few words

He takes flustering you and turning you on as a personal challenge, trying to keep you on your toes all the time and see how red he can make you

If he sees you rubbing your thighs together in desperation, in need, or crossing your legs, your face heating up, Wolfwood takes it as a win

He rewards you for taking his teasing all day by giving you one of the best fucks of your life

What's surprising though - he doesn't actually have all that much experience

I actually can't imagine Wolfwood sleeping around a lot before you, despite all his confidence and his smugness in bed

So, when he actually starts sleeping with you, at first, Wolfwood knows the mechanics of the act of sex, but he doesn't understand the small things

With time, Wolfwood becomes softer with you, learning how you like to be touched, what you like to hear, all your preferences

"Does that make you feel good? Yeah? Lemme hear you, sweetheart. Yes, just like that... good."

Marks you up SHAMELESSLY - will leave hickies wherever he feels like it and he doesn't give a damn who sees because you're his.

Will smirk when he sees other people eyeing the marks on your skin

P O S S E S S I V E - he gets jealous easily, even if he doesn't admit to it, and when he's jealous? Goddamn, RIP you, you're not walking for the next few days

Will also not hesitate to fuck you wherever he feels like it - in the bathroom of a saloon? Check. In an alleyway, not too far away from the main street where people are walking? Check.

The thrill of potentially getting caught makes it all that much more exciting for Wolfwood

Not a huge fan of cuddling after sex when you first start seeing him, but after a while, he softens and doesn't want to let you go

Basically, at first, sex isn't an emotional thing with him, but it becomes one over time - it changes as your relationship with Wolfwood changes and becomes deeper, more intimate, more romantic.

And you know what? Wolfwood wouldn't change it for a thing (though he'd rather die than admit it to you or anybody else)

[wreckmetoji]

Stargazing and Cigarettes

A fic in which Nicholas D. Wolfwood is bad at feelings

↳ Nicholas D. Wolfwood/Reader

content.  gender-neutral pronouns, fluff, wolfwood got a little angy, it’s ok give him a smooch anyways

3.4k words

Some may say Gunsmoke is the epitome of misfortune. If you're misfortunate enough to be born on this hellscape of a planet, you'll die an untimely death at the hands of someone or something completely out of your control. The violent crime rates were high, and the likelihood of terminal starvation and dehydration were even higher. But, although some may say that, others– not many, however– would disagree. My favorite thing... is when the sun disappears behind the dunes. When everything is cast in pink and orange and everything is so soft and the air is cooling down. It reminds me that, even through the worst of days, things will be okay in the end, as long as I keep pushing forward. It's evenings like that you learned to appreciate the most, only with the help of your blond travelling companion. Vash had put life into a new perspective for you, had an arm around your shoulders when you were sulking about being hungry, or hot, or absolutely exhausted. He was a good person, an even better friend. You came to be quite fond of everyone, really. Vash, Meryl, Roberto, and admittedly an extra soft spot for the newest addition, Wolfwood. He was brash, cocky, and more often than not, he was a grump. He never seemed to direct his ire at you though, you had noted this at some point while the five of you sat in some hole in the wall diner enjoying a very inexpensive meal. You can't even remember what the argument was about, if you were being completely honest. Meryl would have her one-sided bicker with Wolfwood, then Vash would interject and inadvertently make himself the target. At some point you had sighed, the sheer amount of personalities in one group clashing was giving you a migraine, and looked up at Wolfwood with pleading eyes. Really, you hadn't even said anything, the look you gave him seemed to be more than enough for his eyes to widen, then narrow, turning his head to look out the half-boarded up window he was sitting next to. Not so much as a peep came out of his mouth for the remainder of the meal, and you appreciated it despite how out of character it was for Wolfwood to be completely silent. You smiled, eyes watching the stars above as you recollected the memory. The car battery had once again been neglected, decidedly leaving your little group stranded for the night. Vash had assured everyone this was as good a spot as any, since not a lot of bandits OR worms came this way, but the at least I think so tacked onto the end left everyone unsettled and eager to start the trek to the nearest town first thing in the morning. It really is beautiful, you found yourself thinking, watching the pink and orange sky slowly fade darker and darker, making way for the stars and constellations to shine so clearly, so beautifully. You sighed, sitting up in your sleeping bag and looking around the sad little impromptu camp to find everyone asleep, or trying to sleep. You and Meryl had been given the rights to sleeping in the car, however you found yourself politely declining. I stay up late, and I like watching the stars was the excuse you used. So, instead, Meryl and Roberto took the car to sleep in, leaving Vash, Wolfwood, and you under the chilly desert sky. The small fire someone, most likely Vash, had graciously started prior to heading off to bed definitely aided in your evening chills, but you knew deeper into the night would be difficult to sleep through. Letting out a small grunt, you stood from your spot, shuffling out from your little sleeping bag. Vash was a few feet away from you, face peaceful as he ever so quietly snored. A hard exhale from your nose, followed by a quick glance around camp, you noticed a missing member. A part of you would like to say you were surprised, but the other part of you thought it was very typical and on-par that Wolfwood wouldn't display such a vulnerable act of sleeping peacefully around a group of people in the middle of nowhere. He wouldn't be difficult to find, you thought with a slight smile, if the distant smell of cigarette smoke was anything to go off of. And difficult to find he was not, considering you had only taken a few strides to get around the mobile storage container on the back of the vehicle, seeing him sitting with his back against the cold metal. A cigarette hung loosely from his mouth, sunglasses fallen down the slope of his nose. Evidently, he had anticipated you before you had even spotted him, with how his dark eyes were trained on you through the corner of his vision before you even had the chance to look down at him. All you did was wave, rocking back on your heels when he said nothing. "Want some company?" You took the deep exhale from his nose as a sure whatever, sauntering over to stand beside him, pressing your back to the container, and sliding down to mimic his posture. It was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Copious amounts of prolonged silence wasn't something you got a lot of in your travels, so there seemed to be a mutual understanding to simply enjoy the moment and each others' presence. "What're you still doing up, anyways," Wolfwood finally muttered, breaking the silence. How long had it been? Five, ten, twenty minutes? Long enough for the last reaches of the sun to dip below the horizon, now only leaving you to bask in stars and moonlight. "Dunno," You shrugged, arms wrapping around yourself as you bunched your knees up, "I like watching the sun go down when I can. It reminds me that even on the worst days, everything is just temporary. With every sunset is an ending, and every sunrise is a new beginning." A small smile crept up onto your lips at the scoff he gave you. He didn't have to say it, but you knew what he was thinking. You've been hangin' out with that needle noggin too much. There was another extended period of silence. "What about you?" You returned, head tilting back against the metal behind you as you looked up at him. "No rest for the wicked, as they say," He sighed, taking the cigarette butt from his mouth and flicking it somewhere in the distance. You didn't understand what he meant by that completely, so you decided to glance away and not say anything at all. Something you and Wolfwood seemed to have a mutual understanding of was knowing when to accept you can't know everything and just move on. The quiet crinkle of plastic pulled your attention back to him, his hand fishing another crumpled cigarette from his pocket. This time you were the one to scoff. You opened your mouth to speak, but his elongated groan of disapproval beat you to the punch. "Don't wanna hear it. If I didn't know what these were doing to me I wouldn't be smokin' 'em," His words were muffled by the object between his lips, one hand cupping in front of his face to block the non-existent wind, the other flicking the lighter to life. Fair enough. He took a deep inhale, exhale following quickly suit. The plume of smoke that surrounded him and tapered off into the night sky was hypnotic, the twists and turns performing an intricate dance with a mind of its own that you've learned to describe as simply very Wolfwood. An enigma, a man of little words and a heavy burden. What that burden was, you don't think you would ever learn, but sometimes you liked to imagine the thought of getting close enough to learn. Everyone needs a shoulder to lean on, even wasteland-jaded priests. "So," Your words trailed off, eyes looking up at the stars above for anything, anything to keep you here in his presence, "Do you know anything about constellations?" "Nah, can't say I do. Do you?" "No." You shrugged, earning a teasing, low chuckle from him. It was a marvelous sound, something you could only package up and wrap it with a nice little bow to keep close to your heart. "Why'd you ask if I knew then?" He pushed his glasses further up his nose, lazily tilting his head to the side to look at you. And what a wonderful thing, being seen by Wolfwood when all you've gotten until now are fleeting glances and indirect side-eyes. At one point you started to think maybe it was deliberate, the way whenever your eyes met he would look away soon after, that perhaps you made him uncomfortable. The weight of his gaze made your cheeks heat, even if your body was cold, and hug your legs closer to your body. "I... dunno, I thought maybe you would so you could teach me a little." There was another short stretch of silence, butterflies anxiously fluttering in the pit of your stomach. "Y'know you can leave if you're cold, the fire's probably still going." If it was anyone else, you would take that as an indirect request for you to depart. Perhaps you'd even take the liberty with Wolfwood, but in this moment, you were selfish. He brought some sort of foreign comfort a fire and a moderately warm sleeping bag couldn't provide. "It's okay," You sighed wistfully, "Even with the fire and the sleeping bag, eventually it'll get too cold out. Just trying to acclimate myself sooner than later." You chuckled in good nature, but he didn't seem to find it as funny. "Heard sharing body heat helps." You nearly choked on your spit. Nearly. "'m sure needle noggin wouldn't mind helping you out. You two seem close." Ah, you got ahead of yourself. "He wouldn't mind because that's just the kind of person he is," You stated, matter-of-factly, barely catching the purse of his lips, "But... we aren't close like that. We're both dreamers, and without an anchor we'd just float away." All you got was a hum. "Plus... I think, even if there was some kind of... feeling there, I don't think he'd feel the same way. He's got enough of his own stuff going on, I don't think throwing a person into the mix would be a good idea for either party." Honestly, you hasn't realized how close you and Vash were gave off indication that there might be some kind of relationship potential. You were more than certain Meryl would have said something about it if that were the case, but perhaps you were wrong. "Didn't mean to make an assumption," Wolfwood muttered, hands plucking another cigarette out of his jacket pocket. You sighed, digging your heels into the ground as his lighter sparked up once again. "It's okay," You reassured, in the motion of standing up, "I'm gonna try heading to bed though." He grunted, his eyes sliding shut for just a moment. You used this to your advantage, snatching his cigarette from between his lips with a smirk as you stood. Maybe he didn't want you to say anything about it, but you weren't going to sit and idly watch as he chain-smoked himself into an early grave. This seemed to shock him more than anything, his hand swiping up to catch your wrist as he stood to his feet. You had managed to use some momentum to toss the now thoroughly crumpled cigarette, catching it in your other hand. As if you'd give up to him that easily, who did he take you for? All you heard was a growl, then a hollow metallic thud, and everything had happened so fast you didn't process that the noise was from your back hitting the mobile storage trailer. Your eyes were wide, mind reeling to process the precarious position the two of you were in. His hands each held a wrist, body boxing you in and enclosing you in a space that was just entirely Wolfwood. You were gazing up at him, only to be met with an equally bewildered expression. The both of you fell silent, only hearing the thump of your increasing heart rate pounding in your ears. He was close, too close, close enough that you could smell the smoke on his breath and the earthy scent emanating from his well-worn clothes. What felt like hours was probably more realistically a matter of seconds, but eventually you had gotten your wits about you to open your palm and display his much desired stolen item. Only then did he pull away, hands releasing your wrists to take a couple steps back. He cleared his throat, once again reaching in his pocket as if you hadn't just attempted to give back what started this scuffle in the first place. Swallowing, you took a step towards him, arm outstretched with the now snubbed cigarette in your palm. He said nothing, quickly taking it, placing it between his lips, and lighting it in silence. You were unsure if the moonlight was playing tricks on you, but you thought you could see pink dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "U-Um–" You stuttered, hands coming together to pick at your nail beds nervously, "I'm–" "It's fine," He interrupted, and you couldn't help but admire him even now, even as he avoided tour gaze, even as he clenched his jaw in what you could only assume was annoyance, admire the steady slope of his nose and his sun-kissed skin and growing stubble. And, subsequently, noticing the smear of ash that ran from his jaw to the corner of his lips, most likely a result of you so bravely snatching what was quite literally a burning object from his mouth. If anyone were to ask you what you were doing, you wouldn't be able to tell them. If they asked you what you were thinking, you wouldn't answer, you couldn't answer, it was completely instinctual. Maybe it was because you were still so high off of the headrush he gave you, off of his scent and his gaze and his energy, you were much more bold. Either way, you didn't think, thumb coming up to swipe the expanse of grime tarnishing his otherwise flawlessly rugged appearance. Unlike before, everything moved in slow motion. The way he reached up to once again grab your wrist, the way his other hand snatched the cigarette between his lips and flicked it away, as he had done to the other. The way that same hand came up to cup your neck, his thumb cradling your jaw, all while he was stepping closer and leaning into your personal space. "Wolfw–" "Shut up," He breathed before his lips slotted against yours. There was no malice behind his words, but a surprising inkling of desperation. How soft he was surprised you. His touch, holding your neck in one hand and your waist in the other, how soft his lips were against yours, as if he was scared to press any further into you, scared he would hurt you or scared you would push him away. You didn't, though. You don't think you ever would. By the time you had come to your senses, he was already pulling away, brows furrowed and lips slightly parted, as if he was already looking to conjure up some kind of excuse as to why he had just done what he did. You didn't want an excuse though, you didn't want another reason to pull away, and the way your hands came up to grasp the front of his shirt and your eyes gazed into him must have gotten that point across. He pushed his sunglasses up onto his head and kissed you again, pulling your body closer to his, lips just a little less forgiving. This time you could feel the pent up desperation, the stress, the uncertainty, and then you could feel it all melt away. His rigid and tense muscles relaxed under your touch as your hands slid up his chest, onto his shoulders, eventually cradling both sides of his neck with your hands. Your thumbs stroked his jaw, the scratch of his stubble adding to the symphony of noises you held close to your heart that were just so Wolfwood. By the time you pulled back again, you could feel the heat on your cheeks, feel the droop of your half lidded eyes, feel your heart hammering in your chest as you panted desperately for air. You stood like this for a good while, eyes lazily blinking up at him in complete disbelief, before you chuckled, "It's... really cold out." Wolfwood continued to stare at you, eyes glancing back down at your lips, and even if he began to lean in again, he didn't have the courage to see it through for a third time. "Then let's get you to bed." He lead the way, completely detaching from you with his hands shoved in his pockets. Part of you wondered if this would ever be spoken about again, was it all just a moment of passion and weakness? Did you both just desperately need something, and now you were unable to shoulder the weight of your decisions? Your mind came to a grinding halt the second he stood above your sleeping bag, gesturing to it vaguely. The fire was nothing but weak embers by this point and would do absolutely no good shielding you from the bitter cold that awaited you further into the night. "Is... Earlier, you said–" You began to whisper, pausing when you noticed Vash shift in his own sleeping bag. You swallowed, eyes downcast as you pointed to Wolfwood, then yourself, then the sleeping bag. You glanced up in time to catch him biting the inside of his cheek, before ultimately nodding and following you in and under the covers. There definitely wasn't enough comfortable space to fit two people, and it took a couple minutes of awkward shifting and repositioning to finally settle on laying on your sides, your back to his front. You had to hand it to him, it was warmer than if you were just by yourself. Forcing your eyes closed, you took a deep breath, trying to will yourself to calm down enough to actually get in some shuteye. That all went out the window the second his hand came up to rest on your hip, then slowly slide down so his arm was holding you back against him. "Wolfwood..." You whispered, barely a word at all in fear that you would wake up your nearly sleeping companion. ".... Nicholas." "Wh... what?" "Call me Nicholas." It was as if your heart grew wings and flown up into your throat, and you didn't know why, because this was something as simple as being on a first name basis, but it was the moment of vulnerability that he displayed that pushed you close to tears. Somehow finding the space, you rolled over, now face to face with the man of your affections. He didn't seem fazed in the slightest, but his furrowed brow gave him away, as did the quick flicker of his eyes, bouncing from one feature to the next, before settling on your eyes. "Nick," You couldn't stifle your grin if you tried, not with how the deep crimson crept up his neck and the tips of his ears, "Will you stay with me tonight?" He scoffed, as if it were a ridiculous question in the first place, eyes sliding shut. "Yeah. I'll stay." "Nick?" "Mmh." "Can we maybe talk a bit more about... this tomorrow?" He didn't answer you, not verbally at least, but if the way his arm tightened around your waist spoke for him, you could only assume that was a yeah, sure. You smiled, craning your neck up to place a chaste peck against his lips. You caught the stutter in his breathing, and the shift in his expression, before you closed your own eyes to welcome the warm embrace of sleep. Maybe you wouldn't know what the morning ahead of you would bring, but you knew that being right here, right now, with Wolfwood holding you so close, like he needed you... you could accept whatever challenges came your way.

[h4venpha]

↳ 𝐋𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐎𝐏 — nicholas d. wolfwood

very suggestive !!

wolfwood does smth to me im sorry

he’s got his eyes locked on your mouth as he approaches you, watching the way you idly hold the lollipop stick while you suck on the hard candy. just a small sweet treat you decided to have, nothing big at all. but oh, wolfwood had other ideas.

he’s just kind of… watching you. watching your lips wrap around the pinkish-purple candy, tinting your mouth magenta. your tongue darting out and pulling it completely into your mouth as you close your lips around the stick. sometimes you push the hard candy to one side of your mouth, creating a bump that juts out from your cheek.

its nothing really, but wolfwood’s mind can’t help but wander a little. he can’t help the way his body moves before he can think. he removes his disheveled cigarette from in between his lips as he reaches for you, rough finger pads turning your head to face him. he squeezes your jaw in his hand and forces your mouth to open, just before the lollipop falls, he takes it and holds it aside.

you gasp as he suddenly has his lips on yours. and he’s aching for the sweet, sugary taste, licking into your mouth and softly suckling on your tongue. its so abrupt you had no time to even prepare yourself before he smashed his lips onto yours.

your fingers find your way into his hair, tangling and gently tugging with neediness. and he inhales sharply at the first gentle tug before a deep grunt rumbles in the back of his throat as he kisses you deeper.

when he finally has his fill and pulls away, you’re both panting with the intensity that lingers in the air. when his lip part slightly, you swear you see his own tinge of magenta on his tongue.

wolfwood’s tongue darts out and licks the wetness of his lips, still tasting the sweetness of the candy. and just before he walks away, he presents the lollipop in front of your face. you take him up on his offer, leaning forward and putting it back into your mouth. you only manage to suck the sweetness one last time but before he takes it out of your mouth and places it in his, his cigarette completely forgotten.

[meguwumibear]

wc: 3k and contains: Vash walks in on Nico and female!reader having sex and is invited to join. piv sex, tit play, some instructional fingering, cum eating, virgin!vash, light angst re: Vash's scars...happy to add warnings as requested but i don't believe it needs any unless threesomes aren't your thing!

There are…noises coming from inside Vash’s apartment. Not the usual sound of tv commercials or Spotify ads—ads that he hears quite often since Nicholas refuses to just pay for premium—but the sound of something throatier, something base and primal.

A pair of guttural grunts and groans fill the air, one deep and masculine, the other lighter and almost feminine in nature. They compliment each other, so in sync it’s like it’s been rehearsed. A symphony of unrestrained ‘oo’s and ‘ah’s and the occasion ‘fuck’ seep out from under the doorway and worm themselves into Vash’s brain, imbedding themselves so deep he doesn’t even realize he’s slipping his keys into the lock until it’s too late.

The sight before him gives him pause. Okay, sure, he could probably guess from the needy whines and desperate cooing that Nicholas was having sex, but hearing his roommate fuck and seeing his roommate fuck are two entirely two different things.

Shirts and pants and underwear—his and yours—litter the floor, like crumbs meant to lore an ant. The two of you hadn’t even made it to the bedroom. Nicholas has you shameless pressed against their shared sofa. A sofa that Nai and Meryl and Milly sometimes crash on when they’re in town.

The violation of the shared space should bother Vash more, but all he seems able to focus on right now is the wonder that is Nicholas D. Wolfwood’s bare ass. Plump and round and firm. Not quite as dark as the rest of him, but still a beautiful, tan color. So muscular it barely even jiggles as he pounds away at your pussy.   

It’s you who sees him first as you angle your head back to nibble at Nicholas’s shoulder. Your eyes widen in surprise as they catch sight of him. He figures he should probably leave or apologize or do literally anything other than stand there like a stupid fucking statue, but that’s all his treacherous body seems capable of at the minute.

“Nicooo,” you whine—and, hang on a minute…Nico? Nico?!—“ugh, fuck, you didn’t tell me you had such a pretty roommate.”

You blink at Vash through long, thick lashes, eyes wide and inviting. If his best friend and roommate wasn’t already balls deep inside you, he might think you were trying to seduce him.

���Fuck,” Nico grunts as he continues to slam into you, hips smacking loudly against your ass. Vash’s presence has apparently had little to no effect on either of your libidos, “little bugger’s supposed to be at his brother’s this weekend. Guess he came back early.”

Neither of your movements halt, but you’re both looking at him now. He can feel his cheeks heat with what he tells himself is embarrassment. The flush creeps along his whole face, all the way to the tips of his ears which he imagines are as red as his favorite jacket by now.

He isn’t sure what to do with himself. Can’t figure out where to look. Anywhere other than at the two of you would probably be a good place to start, but he just can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Nico’s heavy, swinging balls, or the little sneak peak he can see of Nico’s thick cock pistoning in and out of your quivering hole.

There’s a heat pooling in his belly now, stronger even than that of his cheeks. He’s so sexually inexperienced it takes him a minute to understand what’s happening to him. Watching and listening to the two of you fuck has his dick half hard.

He shifts his weight a bit from foot to foot, pondering how to best handle this. It isn’t too late for him to turn around and leave. He can always apologize to Nico later. He’s not usually the kind of guy to hold a grudge. He grew up Catholic or some shit, so his people are all about forgiveness.

“Oi,” you shout, snapping him out of his stupor, “you just gonna stand there all night wondering at your semi, or are you gonna make yourself useful and join us? I got more than one hole you know. Nico’s only occupying one of ‘em.”

“Shit,” Nico swears, his thrusts unsteady, “keep milking me like that and I’m gonna blow before the brat even gets the chance to whip it out.”

Vash sucks in a breath so quickly he chokes on it. Fuck, he can barely think let alone breathe with the two of you staring at him like that. He still has half a mind to bolt and slam the door behind him, but the other, more pertinent half of him can’t stop wondering what Nico’s cock would taste like now that it’s all covered in your slick.

“Think he needs some more convincing, baby,” Nico says, maneuvering the two of you so that he’s now seated on the sofa with his chest pressed against your back. The two of you didn’t break stride once during the switcheroo, which does give Vash some pause. There’s no possible way he could join the two of you; you’re way out of his league.

“Still watching, Vash?” Nico asks, roughly palming at your tits. “You can touch her you know. She wants you to. Her pussy gripped me so fucking hard when she caught sight of you. Who knew I snagged such a dirty little exhibitionist?”

Vash watches Nico pinch and pull at your already swollen nipples with rapt curiosity. It’s shameless the way you arch your back, encouraging him to pluck and prod at you. He wonders if this is all a performance for his benefit or if you really do enjoy having your nipples tweaked like that.

“Vashhh,” you keen, “c’mere, pretty boy. Wanna know that the mouth feels like wrapped around my teat.”

Vash no longer cares if you’re acting or not; an invitation is an invitation, and he’s dying to do the very thing you’ve just goaded him to.

He makes his way to you slowly, like he’s still not sure about the whole thing. He figures there’s no need for his hesitation; you clearly don’t startle easy. But he’s nervous damn it! Watching Nico paw at you has his dick standing at full attention. It bulges uncomfortably against the cotton of his boxers, restricted and aching and already starting to leak.

“Atta boy,” you coo encouragingly as he drops to his knees. Vash is taller than the average man, so even kneeling like this he’s eye level with your perfect tits.

“C’mon, baby,” you whine, reaching out to grab his hair and deciding against it. You must be waiting for him to make a move.

His touch is gentler than Nico’s, soft and curious as he glides the smooth pad of his thumb across your puckering areolas. Your reaction is immediate and seemingly genuine. A shiver skitters down your spine, and at this distance he can see the way you tighten around the base of his friend’s cock.

“Like that?” he asks just to confirm.

“Yeah, baby, just like that,” you smile.

“Tch,” Nico grumbles from behind you, “you don’t gotta be so fucking gentle. She’s not gonna break.”

Vash frowns, rolling your swollen bud between two fingers, “what if I wanna be gentle?”

You seem to like it anyway. His eyes are glued to your pussy and its puffy lips, mesmerized by the way it flutters around Nico’s impressive length as he works your nipples. He squeezes and you clench. He releases and you relax.

“Suck, Vash,” you moan, “Suck, Vash. Please. Please.”

Who is he to deny you? Vash hasn’t sucked a tit since he was still in diapers and breastfeeding, but he figures you never really lose the instinct. He wraps his lips around you, careful of his teeth and begins to tenderly suckle on your left breast. You throw your head back and moan so loudly he’s sure even the neighbors can hear you now.

His still clothed crotch is pressed against your leg. He’s been absentmindedly humping it ever since he dropped down before you, but his thrusts are purposeful now. It takes him time to find a rhythm that he likes. It’s tricky, balancing his own pleasure with yours, but he wants to make sure this is as good for you as it is him. When you realize what he’s doing, you shift your leg encouragingly, coaxing him to grind against it.

“Such a good boy,” Nico laughs.

“Like a bitch in heat,” you return, twisting your fingers through his hair, blunt nails biting into the skin of his scalp.

You use the hair you’ve gathered to yank him off your tit and slot his lips against yours. He has to rise a bit to reach you, and when he settles again it’s over your thigh which feels somehow even better than your leg.

He licks into your mouth experimentally and you kiss back with enthusiasm, running your tongue along the tips of his teeth, the roof of his mouth, anywhere the muscle can reach. He tries to mirror your actions, but they’re foreign to him. He swirls his tongue around your own a few times in practice.

When he pulls away, your lips are red and plump from the friction, a thread of translucent spit connects the two of you. He leans back and back and back until the thin thread snaps completely and what’s left of the liquid dribbles messily down your chins.

“Nico,” he whines as he grabs at Nico’s hair. He isn’t as coordinated as the two of you, but he manages to pull Nico into a deep, heated kiss. Nico smiles into the kiss, wrapping his large palm around the back of Vash’s neck to push him impossibly closer.

The moment Nico’s fingers graze the back of Vash’s neck he’s cumming. Hot, thick ropes of cum shoot out of him, soaking his underwear and likely seeping through the denim of his jeans as well. He ruts himself through the orgasm, using your leg as a toy to get off while he wantonly moans into his roommate’s open mouth.

When he finally pulls away from Nico, you’re grinning at him.

“Did our cute little virgin cream his pants?” you tut, but there’s no real bite to it. Not while you’re on the verge of cumming yourself, hole creamy and brimming with an off-white mix of your arousal and Nico’s pre.

You wind your fingers into his shirt as if to rid him of it, and he pulls back so violently he falls from your lap, hitting the hard ground with a deafening thud.

He’s absolutely mortified. If it were physically possible for his face to get any redder it would, but luckily, he hit max redness while he came all over himself.

When he dares to look back and you and Nico, the two of you have stopped fucking. It’s the first time all night the two of you have called it quits. Nico’s still balls deep inside you, but neither his focus nor yours is on that.

He’s the only one still wearing clothes, but he feels bare before you. Clumsy and stupid, like the awkward man child Nai always accuses him of being. He’s ruined both your nights in one, dumbass move. He feels so bad he could cry. In fact, he can feel warm, wet tears beginning to pool in the corner of his eyes.

“Sorry!” he manages. “I’m sorry. I just, uh, well I’ve got some pretty gnarly scars is all. Didn’t want to kill the mood.” He rubs soothingly at the back of his neck, taking deep breaths as he wills the tears threatening to spill away.

“Vash-” Nico starts, but Vash cuts him off again.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry. Ha, I, uh, I’ve never done anything like this before. It was super nice of you guys to include me. Didn’t mean to fuck it up. Anyway, I really did cream my pants lol, so the two of you should go ahead and finish. It’s only fair.”

You exchange a look with Nico he can’t decipher before saying, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have assumed anything. I’ll ask next time before trying something.”

Fuck, now your apologizing?

“Oh, no, it’s fine. Really! It’s okay. I don’t need you to apologize. Sex is kind of a clothes off activity. It’s a pretty fair assumption. I don’t mind watching you guys finish if you’re okay with me staying. I’d, uh, I’d like to learn actually.”

You turn back to exchange another undecipherable look with Nico.

“Christ,” Nico swears, “have you always been this cute?” The question must be rhetorical because he’s adding, “C’mere then, pretty boy. Let me show you how to make a woman cum.”

“What about you?” you and Vash ask in tandem.

“Already did,” he smirks. “Twice.”

As if to prove it he quickly slips out of you and without his cock to keep you all plugged up ropes of silky, white cum gush out of your pussy, painting your pretty lips and even slicking up the puckering hole of your ass.

“She’s definitely close,” Nico says, pushing his spend back inside you with two thick fingers. “But I’ve been neglecting her poor little clit.” He flicks your swollen nub for emphasis and you immediately cry out.

“Hush,” Nico coos, “I’m gonna get you there, sweetheart. Just wanna make sure he’s watching. Don’t be selfish now, you’ve been so good for me all night.”

He sneaks an assessing look at Vash whose eyes haven’t once left the two of you.

“Most women can’t cum from penetration alone,” he says when he’s certain Vash is watching, and really, it’s not like Vash was going to turn down his roommate’s generous offer. “You gotta stimulate them here too. Different women are going to like different speeds and shit, but once you get a feel for woman it isn’t too hard to read them.”

He’s circling the edge of your swollen clit with his thumb, not quite touching the throbbing thing yet. He teases the skin around it, playing with the mix of liquids gathered there.

“Best to make sure you're lubed up when you touch her. Clits are sensitive. They like the lubrication. I’m using my cum and her juices, but spit works too if you haven’t got her off yet.”

He’s thumbing at the bud now, slow and teasing, as if he wants to see just how long he can keep you teetering on the cruel edge of pleasure and pain.

“There are toys you can use to help you out, but we’ll save that demo for another night.”

Your body visibly jerks as Nico begins to pick up the pace.

“She’s sensitive even though she hasn’t cum. It happens sometimes. Especially after a cream pie’s been bullied into them. Penetrative sex is pleasurable for women, despite the fact they can’t usually get off on it alone. It’s even better for them when they’re with a man who knows how to hit all the right spots.”

“Nicooo,” you whine. “Please. Wanna cum. Wanna cum so bad.”

“Yeah, princess?” he hums. “Wanna cum all over my fingers? Wanna ruin this fucking couch? It was expensive you know. Might have to pitch in and help us buy another.”

“Anything. Anything,” you cry, clear, crystalline tears streaming down your face. “Fuck, Nico, ‘m so empty. I need, ah, I need-”

“I know what you need, baby,” he says, stuffing two fingers back inside you and curling them against the sensitive flesh of your walls.

He’s able to hit the exact spot you need him to, and the motion along with the circles he’s drawing into your clit has you cumming so hard you see stars, nails biting so harshly into the skin of his thighs you draw tiny beads of blood.

He fingers you through the orgasm, fingers unrelenting until he has you screaming and squirting around them.

When your orgasm finally ebbs he shoves the two cum covered fingers into your mouth and you obediently began to suck on them as he orders you to clean up your mess, savoring the salty taste of both your releases.

He slips some of the cum into his own mouth too, and into Vash’s when the nerd finally works up the balls to ask. He doesn’t stop shoveling cum into your mouths until he’s certain there’s absolutely no cum left to swallow.

It’s Vash who suggests a shower. Nico calls dibs but you run in there after him, still a ball of energy despite the orgasm.

Vash contemplates waiting until the two of you have finished to wash up, but his living room feels oddly lonely without the two of you in it. Plus, the drying, flaking cum in his own pants is starting to itch.

The door to the bathroom isn’t closed, but he enters meekly, head down, eyes averted, like a dog with a tail between his legs.

He takes his time undressing. Peeling his shirt off first followed by his jeans and ruined boxers. His back is to the mirror as he undresses. If he sees he’ll chicken out. If he sees he’ll just slink back to the quiet of his room, trying and failing to block out the soothing sounds of you and Nico.

There’s laughter from the shower. Yours and his. The curtains they have are thin, dainty things, and he can tell the two of you are wrestling over the shampoo bottle. If he doesn’t get in now, he’ll lose his nerve, so he rips the tattered curtain open and slides in wordlessly behind you.

The water is mercifully warm against his back. He stares at the way it swirls around your toes. Fizzy white suds circle the rusted drain, probably from the open shampoo bottle the two of you keep fighting for control of.

“Glad you joined us, pretty boy,” you say. When he manages to look at you, your eyes meet his. They aren’t prying or judgmental. They don’t roam along his patchy skin. “Nico’s hogging the shampoo, but he’s got a soft spot for ya. Bet I could convince him to let me wash your hair.”

“Tch, as if,” Nico tuts, shoving you aside. “You’re too small, squirt. I’ll help him with his hair.”

When the three of you are finished washing up, Vash is the first to leave the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around his waist. The fabric doesn’t cover much since most of the damage is on his chest and back. He somehow feels less self-conscious now. Maybe because you’d pointed out he’d seen so far up your pussy he knows the color of your cervix.

Of all the girls Nico’s brought home, you’re his favorite. None of the others have ever bothered with him before.

He comes back to the room fully dressed with a pair of his boxers and an oversized t-shirt clutched to his chest. He holds them out for you, struggling to maintain eye contact.

“For me?” you ask, eyebrow quirked in genuine surprise.

He nods, “Yeah, for you. The clothes you came in didn’t look very comfortable. Figured these would work as pajamas.”

You exchange a look with Nico. It’s another look he can’t fucking comprehend. He doesn’t understand how the two of you managed to develop a language of your own so quickly. You’ve only known each other a few hours.

“Pajamas?” you ask, as if you’re unfamiliar with the concept.

“Yeah, it’s like 3am. You’re spending the night, right?”

You hesitate for a moment more before grabbing the clothes from him with a smile. “Not on that sofa I’m not. Which one of you boys wanna cuddle with me tonight. Or am I getting a room to myself while the two of you spoon?”

“You can sleep with me!” Vash offers immediately. “I’ve got the space.

“Tch, for the three of us I hope,” Nice says. “There’s no way I’m missing out on cuddles.”

[beanibon]

Hi 👋 can i request a smutty wolfwood x fem reader, where after everything him and his s/o finally retire and decide to take care of the orphanage. And seeing his s/o be amazing with the kids makes him go brrrr and think of how great she'll be as a mother and then....breeding kink? 🤣

GIVE THIS MAN ALL THE CHILDREN, WE ALL KNOW HE'LL BE THE BEST DAD IN THE WORLD!

TW: smut, breeding kink, mentioned oral (f!receiving), marking, doggy style (good breeding position tbh), overstimulation.

It had been several years now, peace finally entering Nicholas's life. Even if it did still feel odd.

But with all that said and done, alongside side the only woman he'd ever truly love, Nicholas took over the Hope Land's Orphanage. Protecting the children, and making sure none of them would ever go through what he had.

Another thing Wolfwood tried to do was quit smoking, but that proved a lot harder then he thought. Which was why he was currently hiding, a freshly lit cigarette between his dry lips, that bitter taste inhaled into his lungs.

He knew you'd kill him the moment he was caught, reprimanding him after he swore he'd stop. Yet maybe that's why he denied fully quitting, your face scrunched up in anger was always so adorable, how could he possibly get enough.

"Mieko that's a beautiful drawing, we'll hang it up on the wall later on." Nicholas peeked around the corner, dark eyes observing the way you kneeled low, admiring one of the children's drawings.

A familiar ache throbbed in his pants, causing Nicholas to grunt in discomfort, yet that saccharine voice dragged him back. Hearing the way you spoke to the children made Nicholas happy beyond a doubt, the way you took to each and every one. Not to mention how the children instantly grew fond of you, clinging to your clothes, begging for attention and constant affection. Hell it made him jealous even.

Yet there was one thing that drove Nicholas absolutely wild, which was the image of you pregnant with his own child.

That very thought had shivers running up and down his spine, another drag of his cigarette in attempts to calm the blood flow to lower regions. Perhaps it was something worth mentioning later when the children were all tucked into bed? It definitely wouldn't hurt.

"What did I tell you about smoking, mister!" Wolfwood straightened, head spun to look at your angry, displeased face.

The children surrounding you were giggling, faux looks of shock through some of them. The sight of children clinging to you had Wolfwood's mind wander, until you leapt forward to snatch the embering cigarette.

"What's the harm in one, sweetheart? Can't let me treat myself?" Nicholas cooed, easily moving the cigarette out of reach as you collided against him.

"You said you'd quit, and that I'm allowed to pester you when you caved!" Another poor attempt of thwarting his addiction.

"Did I say that? Shit I don't remember."

"No swearing in front of the kids!" You scolded, hands placed firmly on your hips. A chorus of voices agreeing, playful and teasing.

"Nico said a bad word!"

"Mister Nichowas stop teasing Mrs Y/N!"

"Geez Kiddos, you aren't gonna stick up for me? I'm the one being denied here, don't wanna stick up for lil old me?" Nicholas teased, earning a charge of children tackling him, allowing you to pluck the cigarette from his fingers.

"I think that answers your question, seems that's another win for me." Stamping out the cigarette, you shooed the children away, helping your disgruntled husband off the ground. Gentle hands dusting off the sand sticking to his clothes, fixing his collar.

"Can we have kids?" He blurted out, eyes trailing down to your stomach.

"We have many kids." You responded patiently, oblivious to what he was suggesting.

"Angel," Nicholas brought your face to his, placing a sweet kiss to those beautiful lips of yours. "I'm meaning our own kids."

Your face flushed red, eyes wide as you considered his proposal. You weren't against the idea, just confused as you thought Nicholas was content with all the children running about the orphanage. Never before considering he'd want his own children.

"Why don't we discuss this further when all the children are in bed, okay?"

The bed creaked dangerously, the sound echoing off the walls had you shushing Nicholas frantically, worried the kids would awaken. Only Wolfwood didn't care, pace quickening.

"Nicholas! The childr-"

"Please Angel, just shaddup for a sec," Nicholas cooed, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he pounded into you roughly. "Gonna impregnate you real good, sweetheart."

Your cunt was already dripping with previous loads of his cum, face pressed into the pillow to muffle your pleas, moans and whimpers. Teeth marks covered the back of your neck, entire back and legs even from when Nicholas was eating you out.

Rough hands squeezed your waist, pulling it back as he thrust his hips forward, the plush of your ass somewhat cushioning his harsh hips slamming into you. Nicholas grunted, breathing irregularly as he faltered yet again.

"Ready for another load of my cum? Gonna make some mini mes?" Those fangs nibbled against your ear, earning some angelic noises from your lips.

Those sweet noises were the cherry on top, hot cum filling you up until you were swollen to the brink. Tongue hanging out as you cried at your final release, stars filling your teary vision.

Chaste kisses were placed along your spine, calloused hands massaging you with more gentleness then their previous rough nature. Nicholas laid you on you side, legs pressed together in attempts to keep his seed inside you, arms wrapping around you.

"You did well, Angel," He praised sweetly, a hand placed upon your stomach. "You look beautiful."

Nicholas couldn't stop imagining you fat with his child, the very idea had him hard yet again. Only this time your tired form smacked his arm, groaning at the idea of being fucked ruthless again.

"Put it away, I'm not dealing with it anymore." You grumbled, Nicholas chuckling at your irritated voice.

"Sorry Y/N, can't help it when you get me so excited." Another smack, this time to his face had him barking in laughter, arms squeezing you close as you whined. "Don't worry, I'm too tired anyways. Think I went overboard..."

"No shit, five rounds without a break in exhausting, if I'm not pregnant then there's something wrong with your cock." You teased, turning to nuzzle into his chest.

Nicholas smiled, holding you close as he pressed a final kiss to the crown of your head, eyes closing as he drifted off to sleep.

"I love you, Angel."

"I love you too, Nico."

[triplesilverstar]

File versions are important

There are several people to blame for this masterpiece and I'd name you all here but I don't want anyone to be uncomfortable. So thanks folks for this brain worm of being railed by Professor Wolfwood that I had to write to get it out of my head. Go with whatever version of Wolfwood you want folks. He's just got some sexy salt and pepper going on.

Pushing a hand through your greasy hair as you tap your foot at the print shop before looking at your watch again. Biting your lip because of the nerves coursing through your system, you only have half an hour until your paper is due and you spent the last eight hours making your final edits. You weren’t a procrastinator by any means, as soon as you’d seen the assignment you had started. The problem was your professor. 

Professor Wolfwood was a known stickler for details and grammar and was well known for having made more than one student cry over the years. You’d seen it in person during your first month in his lecture hall. So you knew you needed this paper to be perfect in every sense of the word. Biting your nail as you looked at your watch again and your time was slowly slipping away. The professor was one of the few you had that still believed in paper copies of your work, then again given his field you shouldn’t have been all that surprised, as a theology professor he seems to be rooted in hard copies like the books he lectured on. 

After what felt like an eternity you were handed your documents and you ran as fast as your legs would take you towards where Professor Wolfwood’s office was on campus with a third of your final grade in hand. Sliding to a stop and almost landing on your butt as you quickly knocked against the wooden grain of his door and tried to make yourself look more presentable. 

“Cutting it close aren’t you?” His voice is gruff as he opens the door and states your name almost as if you’re nothing but dirt he walks on but holds out his hand regardless for you to hand him your paper. Swallowing as his salt and pepper hair seems to wave in an air current you can’t feel, hoping he takes it for nerves and not your attraction to the broad figure before you. If he had been anyone but one of your teachers that you met in a bar or on a date you’d have let the man rail you long before now. 

Who wouldn’t with the way his jaw seemed to always sport a five o’clock shadow and his hair was in disarray as if he had just rolled out of bed. The smell of tobacco wafted from his skin with a smell you couldn’t place but it certainly was a smell that had fed many of your fantasies over the weeks you’d been in his classes. Once someone had thrown a bottle of water at him and your entire lecture hall had received an amazing view of the man as his white dress shirt clung to every inch of him. Trying to find your tongue in your mouth before you started drooling you gave a quick nod hoping it didn’t make you seem like a bobblehead. “I know you like perfection, Sir.” 

Flipping through your paper before setting one of his dark orbs firmly on you. If you hadn’t been trying to hide the flush on your cheeks you might have noticed the way his eyes darkened the longer he took in your appearance. “Perfection doesn’t exist, but I expect my students to strive for it. Unless you have something else go home, you look like you need a shower.” 

Scrambling you started backing away, hitting your back against the corner of the hallway and letting out a soft grunt “Ugh. No sir. See you in class tomorrow.” Waving your hands in front of you as if asking for some kind of forgiveness before turning on your heels, almost tripping over your own two feet, and darting off towards home. Once there you notice the paleness of your skin and the vivid bags under your eyes and the veins of red through the white portion of your eyes. Taking a sniff under your arm you groan. “I should have planned for a shower before I ran to get the print job.” 

The next day you woke up feeling refreshed, a quick shower before you crawled under your sheets and slept like the dead. Stretching and planning for a longer shower you feel like you’re on top of the world with a skip in your step, you’ve got a few hours before you need to head to class. With all the work you’ve been doing you haven’t been taking a lot of time with your personal appearance and you plan to shave your legs and trim a few things. Humming as you flick on your radio and head for the bathroom. 

Feeling clean an hour later after letting the hot water pound into your muscles you feel on top of the world, grabbing your bag and planning to grab yourself a nice iced tea before heading for campus. Skipping along the sideway as you go and open the app on your phone, accidentally hitting the wrong button and opening the one for the print shop near your apartment that you use. 

It’s a good thing you don’t have that drink yet as you freeze looking at the screen. “Version 8.7 printed.” Your heart is starting to race inside your chest as you stare at the version number and try to swallow past the desert that your mouth has become.

Your final version was 8.8.

Jumping into your files and seeing what 8.7 has you groan, ignoring the stare being sent your walk from other patrons walking on the sidewalk. The version you printed has all your editing, all your opening and closing remarks, but it’s missing one massive thing the final version had. 

Your citations aren’t on this version. What you wouldn’t do for the ground to open up and swallow you whole right now because without any citations the paper was useless and you just threw that much of your grade down the toilet. Your shoulders start to heave as a sour taste rises along the back of your tongue, all that work down the drain. Staring at the app and the blinking light asking if you want to print the document you have open. 

Even if you did print it it’s not like you could explain it to him and you know Friday mornings he goes in late to his office after working with his undergraduate students. Pressing the back of your hand to your eyes. 

Wait. 

It’s Friday morning. 

A terrible thought crosses your mind. He’d never have to know as you hit the button to print on your phone with your plan firm in your pretty little head. For a university student, you’d think you’d be a bit more rational. 

You can’t believe how smooth this is going, from printing the correct paper and heading to campus as if you weren’t plotting something nefarious. Even getting into the professor's office had been easy. All you had to do was turn the burnished knob and it opened. You really can’t believe your luck, flipping through his files as you look for your paper in among the stacks. 

Half an hour later you don’t feel as lucky, starting to sweat and you know you have to be coming unglued with your ass up in the air as you flip through the files in his desk. It doesn’t make sense. His office is barely bigger than a broom closet even if the window about three quarters of the way up the wall seems to cast some light into the room. “Where is it!” Your voice is desperate as you know your time is running out. 

“Where.” A gruff voice echos are the space and you feel your heart stop beating inside of your chest. “Is what?” If you thought Professor Wolfwood was gruff before with the tones lacing his words you know you’re about to be thrown out of your class at a minimum. 

“Hi, professor.” You’ve never felt so small before standing up to face him and looking down at the ground, waiting for the screaming to start. 

“Don’t you hi me! What the hell are you doing in my office!” The few steps he has to take sound like the thunder of your death march playing. Holding out your paper for him to take and flinching at the way he snatched the stack from your hand. “Oh, this is just perfect.” Slamming the stack on his desk and making you visibly flinch. “Just another filthy cheat, looking for more time to get her paper done.” Rolling his shoulders as he looks to the sky and you feel even worse as your eyes zoomed in on the way the muscles of his neck seemed to tense up. “Just another one of those goddamn pretty little airheads that think she can get by being a pretty little slut, you like everyone looking at you don’t you.” 

It stings to hear yourself called that, you worked so hard and now it feels like everything is crashing down around your ears and the professor isn’t done. “Here I thought you were one of the good ones, but no, you’ve proven to be as useless as the rest of them. Is there anything you little desperate whore won’t do to come out on top?” Staring up at him as tears start to line your eyes and the professor is towering over you looking down his nose and you feel more wetness forming. “Oh, now you start with the fake tears you pathetic little bitch. I’m going to have you thrown out of this university and see to it you never get into another higher institution for learning ever again.” 

You let out a soft noise as he crowds into you and you try to move back only to have the edge of his desk digging into your back. This close his breath washes over your face and you can smell the tobacco from his last cigarette while the heat from his chest starts to radiate into you. You’re having a hard time comprehending the terror you should be feeling at his words but this close your body is more interested in reacting to his. Now isn’t the time for your body to tell you how you might have a degradation kink. You can even see the white whiskers amongst the hairs on his chin. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Grinding his teeth as he finishes his question and you let out a small whimper when his hips brush against yours. 

“I printed the wrong version.” Your voice is more like the wing of a bird on a warm updraft with how low and soft it is. 

“Come again?” For the first time since he came in the bite isn’t in his tone even if his chest is still heaving from his rage. 

“I printed the wrong version.” Raising your voice a little and pulling your phone from your pocket to show the tanned man that was your professor the date and time stamp from the last time you edited the file. 

Taking the phone from you and looking at the information before dragging his hand down his face, making no other motion to move away. His eyes flicker across the screen and you try to hunch more into yourself, feeling something rather stiff between his legs and it’s pressing against you. Biting your lip while his fingers flick along the screen to bring up another page before he lets out a long sigh and you have to do everything in your power not to let out a whimper. This man has to know what an effect he has on some of his students when he makes noises like that and runs his fingers through his hair as if he’s just woken up from a night of fucking someone senseless. 

“You were exhausted yesterday.” Handing your phone back to you and you feel a long exhale pass his lips. Lips that before now you never noticed were chapped and looked oh so kissable. “Why didn’t you just tell me what happened?”

You freeze up again as his hands land on his desk effectively caging you in without even realizing it and you try to move, rubbing your thighs together and you regret the action immediately as your core starts to feel moist. “I didn’t think you’d believe me. After all, I’m just some airhead.” You shrug or try to, hoping throwing his words back at him will get you a little space. The last thing you need is for your professor, your exceptionally hot professor that you are starting to fantasize about bending you over his desk and fucking you like an animal, realizing you want in his pants. 

Groaning and letting his head drop before whispering “I didn’t mean to call you that, you’re one of the brighter students I’ve had in a while.” With his head downward it’s like he finally takes notice of the position the two of you are in, licking his lips and you want to grab his face and suck on the tip of that tongue. “Shit this is an awkward position.” 

“If you want to scream at me some more we could pretend it’s roleplaying.” You blanch as soon as the words pass your lips. That was not a smart goddamn idea. All your earlier attempts at hiding your flushed face and growing arousal are out of the window as your professor raises one of his dark eyebrows in response. 

“I must be more exhausted than I thought because you couldn’t have enjoyed that.” A fraction of a movement of his arm and it brushes against the edge of your shirt making it rise just enough that skin is touching skin. 

Hearing him voice it, you can see the fine lines along his eyes and the barely discernible bags under his eyes. The collar of his shirt has a stain from the sweat from brushing against his neck all day in and out, so vivid compared to when you’re sitting in your chair in the lecture hall. If you had thought you were running on empty yesterday he’s even more past that point. “Maybe.” Licking your lips and taking a chance since you’ve already dug part of a hole for yourself so why not finish it. “It’s obvious you get some enjoyment if your pants are anything to go by.” He’s not hard enough for it to be visible but you are wedged against his crotch and there is no denying what you feel against your core. 

“I have eyes.” The growl that follows the statement is clear and your panties are damp from the steady stream of fluid dripping from you. “I’m as affected by attractive people as much as the next person.” 

The two of you are at a stalemate neither moving away nor closer, you never would have thought being ripped into you would get you so horny but it did and now you want nothing more than to be railed by your sin-inducing theology professor. “If you find me attractive, then why don’t you punish me for being a bad student. I did break into your office and go through your files, how do you know I didn’t change my grade in your records?” Your heart is thumping hard in your chest and you find it a little hard to swallow but there’s a current along your skin and a churning in your gut. 

You don’t need to look down to know his pants have grown tighter, emboldened by his reaction you roll your hips and let out a noise as his firm length rubs along your covered cunt. “Fuck.” A long blink and one of his cheeks are sunk in as if he’s biting the inside of it. A low rumble from him that has your core clenching in response. “If you want this, I want it perfectly clear I'm not having sex with my student. I’m punishing a nosey brat who broke into my office.” His eyes are like jet pools and you can’t help but stare at the way his adams apple seems so prominent along his neck.

“I’d really like to be punished.” Letting your voice drop and moving so you’re flush against him and wrapping your hands around his neck. “Sir.” 

It’s like a switch as his lips crash against yours with enough force to clack your teeth together, one of his rough hands tangled in your hair and pulling your head back so he can dominate your mouth. The taste of cheap cigarettes and a hint of something you don’t know on his tongue as he shoves the muscle into your mouth forcing you to move in tandem with him. His other hand gripping one of your butt cheeks and squeezing the flesh in his wide palm moaning into the kiss. If it could be called a kiss with how domineering it is. 

Grinding his hips into you, you let out a whimper that's lost under his grunts and the sound of his tongue plundering your mouth, he’s hard now and there’s no doubt he’s one well endowed man. Breathless as his mouth pulls away from yours if it wasn’t for his hands on you and his desk behind you, you think you might have slumped to the ground. Letting out a shuddering breath as you try to calm down your racing heart. “Look at you, a desperate pathetic mess.” The hand on your butt sliding to your crotch and rubbing your inner thighs. “Breaking into someone's office and sticking that fine ass of yours in the air like a little bitch in heat.” Tugging on the strands of your hair making you hiss as your eyes roll into the back of your head as his words have you panting for a different reason now. 

“As much as you deserve a harsh punishment we’re short on time.” Slapping your covered cunt and your reeling as he steps back releasing your hair and his fingers are quick to unsnap your pants and shove them down your hips with your underwear. “Filthy slut, you were getting off on rooting around my desk. These skimpy things are drenched.” Shoving two of his thick digits into your core and curling them against your walls. You’re embarrassed about the low keen that you make from the sudden intrusion. “What happened to all that bravado earlier? Just like a pathetic bitch putting on a show until something is inside that desperate hole.” 

In a matter of seconds, he has you flipped around with your chest pressed against the desk and can hear his belt and zipper being undone. “I have something bigger to fill that hole.” Letting out a wordless scream as he splits you open on his cock, only for a hand to slap over your lips. “Such a loud slut.” You moan and whimper beneath his hand as your walls spasm while you try to adjust to his girth stretching you wide open. You’ve never felt so hot in all your life, moaning as he leans over you and it places more pressure against your insides and you’re crushed against his desk. “Now I need you to be quiet, or we might get caught.” 

Sliding his hand away you let out a mewl as your pussy clenches around him like a vice. “Professor.” 

“Nicholas.” Starting to slowly pull out of your tight walls as the spasming slows. “I told you, we’re not fucking as student and professor. You’re a desperate hole I’m going to use after breaking into my office.” The first few thrusts are measured and slow but that doesn’t last once your slick is covering his cock and he glides in your tight cunt. 

You're feeling warm as you pant “Nicholas” his name like a prayer as his hips start to pound away inside of you and you’re seeing stars. Your fingers grip the wood as best as you can, you can’t do anything else with the way he has you positioned, gasping as the weight that had you trapped against the desktop is removed and he starts slamming harder into your core. 

“It makes sense now, you wanted to be punished did you little bitch? To have me rail you and this tight damn cunt of yours.” The sound of flesh slapping against flesh and the wet squeching of your thighs as he fucks so thoroughly you can barely think. “What I’d give to push you to the edge over and over again and hold back, but fuck it’s been a while. Now tell me where you want it because we’re almost out of time.” 

You swallow as your pussy grips him like a vice hearing how close he is, and you know what you want. “Inside. I'm on the pill.” Whining as his hand tangles in your hair once more and tugs your head back hovering at the edge of pain. 

“Greedy little slut, you better keep all my cum in that tight little hole of yours then.” A few more thrusts and you hear him groan long and low as he spills himself inside of you. You don’t even care that you didn’t get to cum yourself as it feels like an impossible amount is pumped inside of you. Mewling at the warmth spreading inside of you.

A nasally exhale above you as you try to catch your breath before one of those rough warm palms slaps your ass before rubbing it. Surprised when he lowers his chest to your back once more and releases your hair to kiss your neck just below your shirt collar. Whimpering as he pulls out, missing the way he filled you already. Those warm hands slid your panties back in place before stepping back and turning you to face him, his eyes on your now covered core and watching as the darkening fabric spreads outwards. You take the time to look between his own legs and feel your eyes grow to plates, he’s thick and the base of his cock has the same salt and pepper pattern as his hair. Damn that man is hung and you lick your lips wanting to have it split you open again. “That’s a very nice dick, Nicholas.” 

A brief laugh before he finishes pulling your pants up and closing them with a pant to your pussy before tucking his softening length back inside his slacks. Digging through his briefcase for a bottle of water and a pack of cigarettes. “Take that and get yourself cleaned up.” Placing one of the white sticks between his teeth and you feel a little jealous. “You look like you’ve been thoroughly fucked and you still need to get to class.” Pushing the window open before flicking his light. “I’d rather we not be seen walking in together.” Turning away from you and you feel a little bit of shame at the fact you just let your professor cum in you like some whore. 

Turning on your heels hoping no one sees you before you get to the bathroom to try and clean yourself up only to hear your name. “Don’t clean up between your legs. I expect to see my cum dripping out of your thighs when I continue your punishment later.” Oh, you are so fucked. Hurried steps taking you out of his office and to the nearest washroom, and when you look in the mirror he is right. You do look like you just had been in the ringer and you didn’t even cum yourself. 

Taking your seat in the lecture hall you’re glad for the water bottle Nicholas gave you, taking a sip and hoping no one looks to closely at you. As much as you had been able to fix your appearance you still feel like if someone looks at you they’ll be able to tell that your shared professor’s cum is still deep in your core with some of the opaque liquid seeping out of you. Walking down the hall it felt like it had been dribbling down your thigh and you were self-conscious as you sat there. For all your fear though, you were equally as excited the flames your tanned professor had brought blazing to life might have been simmering now but the embers still had you warm.

That promise of continuing later had you swimming in a torrent of hormones and emotions, the image of his flaccid dick flashing in your mind and you had to bite your lip. Damn, you wanted to feel him again, have him ravage your insides all while telling you what a slut you were. You didn’t think you were into that before but now? If Nicholas wanted to put a collar on you, strip you naked, and tell you to beg for his cock with your ass up in the air you’d have begged as if your life depended on it.

The slamming of the door near the dais of the hall and you had to hold back the whimper you wanted to let out as Nicholas, no Professor Wolfwoof strode into the space. He looked just a bit more put together than when you had left him but still looked exhausted. Or maybe after being that close to him, you could still see it. “Oh good.” His voice has that low timber to it that your cunt can’t help but quiver as a reaction as he surveys the room. “At least half of you could be bothered to show up. To carry on with our last discussion...” There isn’t any preamble as he launches into the subject just like every other lecture of his you’ve attended for class. 

With your notepad open you do your best to take note of what he’s saying, following the high points he brings up about today's subject. You know you’ll have to read up on it later as his voice is going in one ear and right out the other, the sound of his voice like velvet and you can’t help but rub your thighs together. Trying to gain the smallest relief as your clit throbs and your panties grow damper stuck to your slick skin, more of his seed dribbling from your clenching core. 

Watching him walk and taking notice of the way his broad hands sweep along as he speaks, the same hands that had been squeezing your ass less than an hour ago. Taking another sip of water to try and hide your swallow, because you’d rather feel those hands on your hips once more. 

As his gaze moves across the lecture hall and lands on you, you feel your heart rate skyrocket as the tip of his tongue partially licks his lips. Shifting your thighs once more as another dribble leaves you, and from the way his eyes darken momentarily before moving on you know he’s seen you and how flustered you are. 

The hot asshole smirks, and you wonder if he knows how you feel with his cum slowly dripping from you, making you sticky and oh so horny. 

It’s the worst class you’ve ever had, sitting there suffering your growing arousal and knowing the man responsible for it is carrying on as if nothing is wrong. Or unlike you, he’s far better at hiding it. A soft call of your name has you turning to the person next to you. “Are you alright? You look like you’re flushed or something.” Shit. They look really concerned as they watch your reaction. 

 “Yeah.” Trying to whisper and trailing a hand down the side of your neck. “Just feeling warm. Are you warm?” You can try and play of the heat on your face as maybe starting to just feel a bit under the weather. They shake your head and you give a weak smile. 

“Care to share the conversation with the rest of the class?” Flinching a little as the professor's voice booms across the room and your pussy betrays you with a hard clench that has your abdomen tensing with it. 

“Professor” At least you don’t have to answer as the other student speaks up and says your name. “Doesn’t look all that well. I was asking if she feels ok.” 

As his dark eyes land on you, you scramble, you're just goddamn horny and he knows that. “Apologies Sir. I just feel warm all of a sudden, maybe I’m sitting under a vent or something? Really I’m alright and I do apologize for interrupting your lecture. It was rude.” You hope he sees it as an attempt to deflect away from your current predicament and your stupid body feels warmer as his eyes keep staring at you. 

“It is a little on the warm side in here today. Perhaps you should drink your water or leave instead of being a disruption.” You’ve never been so glad your professor is a dick as half the students in the lecture hall wince at the bite in his words as he goes back to giving his lecture. Taking a larger swig of water before glaring at the classmate who started the problem, you might as well add to the drama by making it seem like you’re upset at having the professor's venom thrown at you. 

Thankfully they don’t say anything else and you make a conscious effort to drink the rest of your water throughout the class. Missing the way the professor's eyes would glance at you when you did, and the subtle tightening of his pants. 

By the end of the three hour lecture, you’re ready to burst from the burning arousal that’s had time to build in you since you had been called out for having a conversation. Every flick of the professor's eyes had you tensing, his voice changing in cadence making your pussy spasm and your clit was throbbing painfully against the sodden fabric. You almost jolted as your classmates hand landed on your shoulder, looking at you a little sheepish as they whispered your name while most of your classmates left through the doors at the back of the atrium. “Are you sure you’re ok? Do you want to go to the clinic or something?” 

“I’m fine.” Rolling your shoulder to try and dislodge their hand. “If I wanted help I’d ask and please don’t touch me.” 

“You don’t need to be a bit-” 

“Pardon the interruption but is there a reason the two of you are still here?” The venom is back in the professor's voice and he’s right beside you watching your interaction with a sneer. 

“No, we were just leaving.” Your classmate still hasn’t removed his hand from you and you snap back, there is no way you’re leaving with them. 

“Are you deaf? Take your hand off me, I don’t need you to walk me out.” Batting his hand away you’re surprised when the professor slips between the two of you. 

“I think it best if you leave.” Coughing slightly and you can tell he’s making a point to let the other students know they will if they know what’s best for them. Snapping your name you flinch. Shit. “You sent me an email saying you needed to discuss something about your paper with me?” 

Stammering out a quick “Yes Sir.” You didn’t think right after class he’d want to continue from earlier or maybe he’s using it as an excuse to make sure the other student does leave.

The lecture hall is silent except for the sound of stomping feet and once that fades you’re surprised once more as the professor walks up the stairs as well, the doors are tucked behind a wall but the sound of them locking rings about the space before he returns. “I’d rather if we aren’t interrupted.” Waving his hand towards the table on the dias that he occasionally uses to display items for one of his lectures you follow behind him. “What’s your experience with BDSM?” 

You almost choke and fall on the steps at how casual he sounds. “Ugh none.” 

“I should be the one apologizing then, earlier I simply took control and you had no mechanism to stop me or put any boundaries in place. I’d like to rectify that if you want to continue with your punishment.” Leaning on the table with his long legs crossed, the action puts his growing bulge on display for you and you swallow. 

“I do. I really do. Every time you looked at me during the lecture I wanted to melt thinking of your dick.” There isn’t a point to lying to him, because it’s the truth. 

“Well darlin', let’s get into the rules.” Launching into an explanation of basic BDSM etiquette and explaining the stop light system to you. You nodded and asked questions of him, and in short order, he had a better understanding of what you felt were subjects you didn’t want to talk about and how far he could push you physically. “Ready to finish your punishment?” 

You give a brief nod “Yes Sir.” Slipping close to his body and groping his cock, the tendons of his neck stand out and you lean in to lick along the straining tissue. 

“I see my desperate little hole with legs is ready for more.” Gripping your hair to use like a handle and tilting your head away from his neck so he can slot his lips over yours. Almost snarling as he does so and your body responds with a low hum as you shake against him, his teeth sinking into your lower lip before swiping his broad tongue over it. “We just started and you’re already losing that false bravado.” Your grip on his dick had loosened but when your whole body is suddenly on fire, well it’s hard to think. “I guess we’ll see if you can at least follow directions, if not I might have to punish you a different way.”

The hand not in your hair is at your pants again, forcing them down your legs and to the floor while his mouth is back on you. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips as he slides his finger along your covered slit, a noise of satisfaction at the way the damp fabric sticks to the rough digit. Your hands flail before landing on his shoulders trying to keep yourself upright and your chest pressed tightly to his at the awkward angle. Rising to your toes as he starts to finger you through the wet cloth of your panties, while his tongue dominates your mouth once more. 

Pulling away harshly he drops with his knees bent and still on his feet so his eyes are level with your covered pussy. Pushing the sodden fabric away from your slit and pressing a single digit inside of you and curling it as he removes it with a wet slurp inspecting it in the light to see the globs of his cum stuck to his fingers with some of your own juices. “Good little slut.” Sticking it in his mouth and sucking it clean with a groan. “Since you can listen and do as you’re told, your punishment won’t be as severe. I’m going to fuck you on this table and let you cum. This time.” Getting you to step out of your pants and Nicholas has you leaning back against the table but not before sliding the flat of his tongue along your folds and smacking his lips as he stands. Grabbing fistfuls of your ass and lifting you into the air so you’re sitting on the cold surface. 

“Pro-Nicholas. It’s cold.” Whining as your body trembles from the difference in temperatures as he works his pants open and lets them drop to the floor. His boxers shoved down his thighs until his cock can bob in the air freely and you can’t help but stare at the large balls hanging from them. 

“You’ll be warm soon, once this dick splits you open again you’ll have nothing to complain about hole.” Slapping your ass harshly as he grinds his teeth giving himself a pump or two. “And that’s Sir right now slut. Consider it your only warning.” 

“Yes Sir.” Moaning as he lines himself up with your messy slit and another hand between your breasts pushing your back again the surface of the table. 

“Remember your colors.” A quick reminder before he slides himself home with a groan, tossing his head back you start to pant like a bitch in heat as your walls welcome his burning length deep inside you again. With the height of the table, the two of you are perfectly aligned for him to slide in and out of your dripping pussy with ease and he sets a rapid pace. “Such a good little whore, you like this don’t you.” His hands on the top of your knees keeping your legs spread open for him as he ruts into you. “Getting fucked in a lecture hall, where anyone could walk in and see.” Your stomach tenses from his words, the voice at the back of your head whispering how the doors are locked drowned out by the idea of someone seeing the two of you like this. What a fucking scandal that would be, the meanest teacher on campus fucking a student like he wants to breed them. “Shit, you do like that.” 

Pulling you more to the edge of the table so he can change the angle and you mewl squirming in his grasp as the head of his cock is rubbing against your G spot. The churning in your gut grows stronger and you can’t help but pant and arch your back. “Sir. I’m gonna cum.” 

“Then touch yourself and cum on this fat dick slut.” You shouldn’t be as turned on by his dirty talk as you are, attributing part of it to the rasp that drips from every word but your fingers are on your clit as soon as he told you to touch yourself. Rubbing them circles over the hard bundle of nerves with the hood pulled back, Nicholas never relents and you’re slumping when your release hits you to the table with a noiseless scream. 

Nicholas grins as he changes his hold on your legs once more but never stops bucking into your supple hole, dragging out your orgasm as long as can. Your tight cunt feels like heaven and he doesn’t remember the last time he got off using his hands, which means it’s been even longer since his cock was surrounded by the warmth of another person. He’d already spilled in you once today and if you let him a second time he was going to blast a load as deep in your cunt as he physically could. 

“Hmmmm, yellow.” 

Stopping the movement of his hips when you utter the color and his hand sweeps along your quaking middle. “Yellow as in you’re approaching your limit, or yellow as in you need a break?” As much as Nicholas wants to keep fucking your tight hole he wants to respect your boundaries. 

“Overstimulated. Need… to… calm down.” As you speak broken words he chuckles, not removing his dick from your core. 

“Alright. Tell me when you want to keep going if you do.” Shifting his hold on you once more so your legs can rest over his arms as you catch your breath. Nicholas can’t help but stop grinning, seeing you split open like that for him. Damn, he could get used to this, you weren’t bad to look at and you had a decent head on your shoulders even if today showed you didn’t always think clearly. Thanking the god of every religion he taught about that you made that mistake or he might not be buried between your thighs right now. 

As you come down from your high with an arm draped over your face you let out a long exhale, moving it enough to see Nicholas looking down at your body like it’s a temple he’s about to worship. You’re struck that you haven’t seen him fully naked yet and it’s something you want badly. “Green.” Your voice is steady as you say the word and you wonder if you can come up with a way to see him again after this. 

“Back to the game.” A few languid thrusts and then he’s back to ramming into you like his sole purpose is to turn you into a puddle on the table. “Now that you’ve had your reward slut, it’s time for your punishment. I’m gonna cum long and hard inside this tight cunt of yours, but only if you beg me for it.” 

“Yes!” It doesn’t matter that you just had your release, a second one is already building from the ashes of the old one and the idea of Nicholas filling you up again has gone straight to your head. A hand slapping your ass and you know you need to actually beg. “Please, Sir! I’m just a desperate hole for your dick! Cum in me! I beg you!” Your voice grows in volume as you plead for him to finish in you, gasping as he pulls your butt to the edge of the table and tossing your legs over one of his shoulders.

“Since you begged my little bitch, I’ll fill you up. Again and again.” Like this, your walls are even tighter and you can’t help but squirm from the pleasure flooding your system as the veins of his cock rub against your insides deliciously. A noise you didn’t even know you could make echoing around the room as he puts his weight on your legs so the head of his cock is almost hitting your cervix. “The next time we fuck.” Panting now as his hips start to stutter, growing close to his second release of the day. “I’m” One hand is pushing the fabric of your shirt up. “Putting” The other is holding your hip in place so you can’t slide back across the table. “You.” The hand under your shirt is starting to knead your breast and you moan. “In” Rough digits push your bra away. “A mating press.” Those same digits squeeze your hard nipple as the hairs at the base of his cock brush your clit and your neck arches as your release slams through you.

Nicholas hisses through his teeth as your pussy squeezes around him as his balls empty his seed inside you once more, the sensation of being milked as more and more cum is drawn from his balls and he can’t help but think of next time. Maybe he’ll fuck you in a bed. Or a shower. Easier clean-up. 

When you return to your senses, Nicholas is still inside of you but you can feel as his member is softening inside your walls and his release is dripping down the globs of your butt. “Nicholas?” His hand that was rubbing your sides under your shirt stills as he lets out a soft noise. 

“Hmm?”

“Can we see each other again?” Licking your lips as you expect him to say he’ll see you every week for the rest of the semester. “Like this, having sex?” 

“Well, I was hoping when you woke up you’d be down for round three. My apartment is two roads over. Or at least follow me there for a shower since I owe you that at least.” Oh, you’ll take him up on both options. Walking out later on unsteady legs and discussing what it means going forward, even if you’re far too focused on the idea of choking on his cock at some point instead of his words. 

After all. He’s hot and you’re down for him and that monster between his legs anytime and anywhere. 

[scoundrels-in-love]

I remember when your head caught flame, it kissed your scalp and caressed your brain

Migraine catches Wolfwood by surprise and Meryl is there to make sure he doesn't dissolve in the pain. Somehow, that hurts in a whole different way. | Stryfewood | Hurt & Comfort | Mentions of past abuse | Also on AO3 | Commission me! |

Wolfwood has no one but himself to blame for missing the signs of too-bright-loud-too-too-too world amping up in the last two days; a frustration that is well worn and familiar and does nothing to ease the pain of steel restraint three sizes too small wrapped around his brain, just beneath his skull which feels thin and tender, pulsating in rhythm of blood and pain pumping through him.

He wonders if he could rip his own head off, as simply he has torn other bodies apart. Like Legato had crunched Wolfwood’s form as if it was a discarded paper bag.

“Wolfwood?” Meryl's voice pierces through his fantasy, and he feels his jaw clench - a bad move.

He grunts an acknowledgement.

“Can you sit up? I booked the room, but I can't carry you inside.”

This makes him open eyes. Shortstack is hovering above him, leaning through the gap between front seats and the concern on her face is something he doesn't have capacity to process right now. Probably never.

Wolfwood had been vaguely aware they'd stopped, because the inclination to give up every bit of bile in his stomach had lessened a fraction. But he'd not thought much as to why, fleetingly assuming it was for a charging station.

“Whuh,” he says, eloquently. They're low on funds and the omnipresent, bright heat pressing into the van indicates it's not even close to nighttime yet. He's been trying to hide from it by laying down in the back seat, arm thrown over his face until the weight of it got too much. Plus, the smell of tobacco clinging to his sleeve had suddenly become an aggressor in the last day which, again, should've pointed him towards the signs.

“I can't get you inside on my own, can you walk?” Her voice is softer now, as if she'd caught him wincing at her volume before.

“Sure thing,” Wolfwood replies as he moves to sit up. If you can't walk, you're dead. He isn't yet, not yet not yet not yet.

Despite his insistence that he's fine, just peachy even, she's really making fuss for no reason, it takes more effort than he expects to get out of the car with his stiff, aching joints into the bright midday sun. The light hits like physical force and he hunches beneath it, staggers towards the sling on the back of the van where Punisher waits for him.

The familiar feeling of cloth and belts scorching his hands grounds Wolfwood and he manages to walk in the inn upright and brushing off Meryl who is fluttering around him like newly hatched wormling, restless and useless.

Even indoors, there are sparks in his vision, a blur on the edges, and the way his head spins do no favors to his stomach which has come to rest in his throat ever since he began moving. Meryl guides him to the room with urgency and if he had the capacity to be annoyed, he'd be telling her off. But now he just follows.

The room's curtains are drawn shut meticulously to not let even a strand of sunlight peek through, it looks safe and quiet as much as anything does on this cursed planet. He props Punisher against the wall next to the single bed and crumbles on the edge of the lumpy mattress, beyond drained and frustrated about it. His sunglasses clatter on the side table too loudly, their arms having felt like a pinch for the past hour.

“Take your jacket off,” Meryl tells him, suddenly kneeling in front of him. He must make some kind of noise, because she meets his gaze with a tight smile. 

“When I have a migraine, bending over is like a death sentence,” she explains, tugging off one of his shoes. He lifts his other foot to aid her efforts, wordlessly, because what is there to say? Thank you, you don't have to, you shouldn't , I don't deserve it, I must handle these things on my own or I might get used to idea that– 

“C'mon, off with that jacket, you never sleep in it unless it’s freezing,” Meryl tears apart his thought tangle, having set his shoes aside and standing in front of him with an expectant, outstretched hand. Wolfwood manages to shrug it off with minimal waves of nausea and lays down, closing eyes and listening to the gentle rustle of cloth as she must be placing it neatly on the chair. 

Next, she disappears into the bathroom and all he has left to focus on is each squeeze of metal around his brain, that tender blob of guilt and bad decisions that makes him him or some shit. 

He can't even lay still, with the aches in his hands and knees and hell, every other joint, too. But even a shift, even if he stretches his fingers to curl them slightly in a minute, feels like it resonates up his body, into his skull. It's absurd, but he supposes so is his existence.

The bathroom door creaks open and then is gently shut behind Meryl before her weight dips the very edge of the mattress. It's not a bed for two people which, actually - did they even have money for two rooms? 

“Can you lift your head slightly?” she whispers and Wolfwood cracks his eyes open to see her holding two wet towels. 

“I don't need-”

“That's not what I asked.”

He must preserve energy in case something happens, something where he needs to wield the Punisher and keep her from becoming another ghost haunting him (like Vash, like Livio -), so he capitulates this battle and gingerly lifts head so she can arrange the damp cloths around his head. It's an unpleasant, soggy sensation when he lays back down, but the coolness is almost instantly soothing.

She doesn't leave the bed immediately like Wolfwood expects as he tries to find words that aren't thank you, but would convey sentiment frighteningly similar to that. Instead, she scoots a little lower and gently takes his right hand in hers, smoothing fingers over his painful knuckles like trying to suffocate the ache with her tenderness.

“The vials wouldn't help?” Meryl asks as she repeats the motions and his whole body tenses up as a powerful wave of nausea roils through him at the memory of one time he'd tried. The wounds he'd left on himself trying to rend himself apart to end it had healed immediately without so much as a scar, but he will never forget the excruciating ways every blood vessel in his brain had pulsated with agony.

“Oh. I am sorry,” her voice cuts through the memory and  Wolfwood forces himself to relax again. Her hand feels so small in his - when had he clutched it so tightly, did he leave bruises?

“It's nothin’,” Wolfwood lies as he shakes her hold off, “stop coddling me and go to your room, I got this.”

“Well, tough luck then. I don't have anywhere to go, this was the last room they had.” 

He isn’t entirely surprised and it won’t be the first time they share a room or have pressed close to endure the cold of desert night. But it’s worse because all her attention is on him, his comfort and he feels flayed open by it just as much as the pain.

“We coulda kept moving,” Wolfwood grumbles, trying to regain some control over his thoughts.

“But we didn't. Money is already paid so we aren't moving until tomorrow morning.” There is finality to her voice and the last fight leaves his body. With a heaved sigh he allows his consciousness to loosen its grip.

His sleep is shallow, pain threading through it and pulling him close to wakefulness several times before he sinks back down. Wolfwood feels the cool cloth on his head being changed several times and Meryl smoothing his hair back from his damp forehead, but pretends to sleep through it. It's simpler that way. It's all for practicality, anyway. She needs him in good form and…

When Wolfwood wakes up, the pain has receded to a nuisance at the back of his skull and clamps on his temples. He pulls off the towel covering his forehead and eyes, blinks in the dim light, before setting it to the side and looking around to find Meryl.

She isn't far - curled in on herself and awkwardly propped against the wall and the headboard, one leg stretched out while the other is curled beneath her. Asleep, by the sound of her breath. He thinks about how she used to complain about sleeping in the car, shifting endlessly back and forth before settling down, but after Julai she's learned to sleep wherever and for what little time disasters might afford them. 

Reminiscing does him little good, but it's hard not to, looking at her face, brow scrunched a little even in sleep. It isn't the first time she has kept vigil over him and every time Wolfwood swears it will be the last one. But he and promises have never gotten on very well; several absences in his life are a clear proof of that.

Meryl shifts slightly and her head slides forward. Without thinking, he reaches out and stops her head slipping further, crashing into the headboard's edge. Her cheek is warm in his palm, the skin soft against his calluses so much that it makes him want to rub his thumb over it, but she's awake now, staring at him wide eyed and slightly disoriented.

“Couldn't let that big brain of yours get knocked around,” Wolfwood scoffs as explanation, withdrawing his hand. Something flashes across her face, eerily alike hurt, before she settles for mild annoyance.

“You must feel better if you're back to being an asshole,” she mutters, straightening up and then stretching. 

“Never stopped, sweetheart,” he waves at her, dismissive of her words and aches in his joints both, then sits up a little too carefully.

“That's true, the moment you genuinely do, I will be calling an ambulance.”

He points out that this is such a big city girl thing to say and they bicker back and forth some as he stands up and gets his cigarettes, meanders over to the window. Still barefoot because she'd been right – bending to put on shoes does feel like an execution even now and he's lived through a few.

The late evening sunlight still hits Wolfwood like daggers through his eyes, despite the sunglasses he had fetched from nightstand, but he grits his teeth and leans against windowsill, almost challenging the angled sun rays to chase him back into the shadows. He knows he belongs there. He knows.

“I'll be right back,” Meryl says over her shoulder, already halfway through the door and he mock-salutes her.

When she returns he's through with two cigarettes and her hands are full with a tray of food, pitcher of water with a couple glasses.

“Eat, you can empty your pack after,” Meryl gestures to the plate of empanadas as she places it on the rickety table near the window. He knows she remembers his throwaway comments, notices the things he enjoys, but every reminder still strikes a cracked bell in his heart, its sound too overwhelming.

Wolfwood speaks over it, as he always does: “Gonna spoon feed me while yer at it? I could've gotten something if I was hungry.”

“If I must,” she says, hands on her hips and mutters that sounds a lot like you prickly bastard .

He could argue, but he knows the food will do him good, even if he is still mildly nauseous. And in this year spent together, he's learned that the determination with which she'd broken Vash out of the tank prison is generously applied in many other aspects of her life. 

So, to not delay the inevitable, Wolfwood joins her for the meal. They talk about doing a few jobs around the town tomorrow to replenish the funds, bicker over the last fry which he eats on principle and also enjoy a spell of silence. 

It is good while it lasts and he has no one to blame but himself when it doesn't.

His head still feels tender, tendrils of worse pain slithering on the edge, and his body feels heavy. It's almost as if sleeping through a migraine is not very restful, he snaps at Meryl who comments he looks tired. 

“Then go to bed, Undertaker,” she scoffs, gathering things for a wash up. 

“Stop herding me, woman,” Wolfwood snaps and watches the corners of her mouth drop into an upset scowl.

“Suit yourself, I'm using up all the hot water for that.”

He watches her leave and wishes he had something stronger to wash down the bitterness in his mouth. It's better that way, better to be a nuisance that she won't care for, but sometimes it feels like it's too late, that all he can do is hurt her heart that is already attached. Again and again, from the day he’d led Vash to Julai and countless times after.

But even if that's true, there's no trust and no misplaced affection that he can't break. If not today, then soon she will see him for who he is and the disappointment will curdle into loathing.

They don't talk after that, she hardly looks at him once she comes out of the bathroom and by the time he's clean and ready for bed, Meryl has already made herself comfortable in the bed, facing away from him, arms drawn close to her chest. 

Wolfwood doesn't know if he's committing to being an asshole or just avoiding another argument when he settles on the other side of the bed. Probably the latter because he doesn't wrestle more of the blanket away from her. He is tired , far beyond the physical drain today has taken. Tired of being him, tired of the ghosts in his ribcage, tired of longing for a world where he could be the person Meryl and Vash thought he could be.

All that immaterial exhaustion and still he can't fall asleep.

Their backs are almost touching as he listens to her breath level out while his sleepless minutes twine into an hour. An excellent sense of time is yet another skill Chapel instilled in him by any means necessary. 

But he is losing this sharpness he's been given, his edges are growing dull, Wolfwood knows, can read it in the way he wants to say sorry and thank you, to fix the crack in their fragile peace he himself has carved. 

He can't afford to, not truly, but he can turn around without Chapel beating him for giving into his bodily urge to shift in the bunk beneath his teacher's. He can look at the gentle shape of Meryl's face in the darkness, his eyesight adjusted and changed for thriving in night, and -

Well, he shouldn't let the tender yearning take a breath and expand in his chest until his heart is engulfed in it, but he does anyway.

He will sharpen himself soon, with blood and death and hatred, with anything but her and the gilded memory of Vash, but tonight, tonight Wolfwood shifts to loosely wrap himself around her small form. Listens to her even breathing and presses his lips carefully to the crown of her head, mouths thank you there, inhaling the gentle floral and citrus scent of her shampoo, and lets it lull him into sleep.

[concussed-to-pieces]

Wolves At The Door; Part Eight

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: You both skied in silence for a long while, Karl absently watching your hips move back and forth beneath your snowsuit. Due to the stark uniformity of the surrounding area there wasn't much else to look at anyways, so he didn't feel particularly bad for doing so. 

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our eighth installment! There will be no update on the 15th, so our next installment will come on the 22nd. Thank you for reading 💚Enjoy!

Tag List: @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @a-smol-witch @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @stargazerofgoldenwords @imthegreenfairy86 @karlskitten @nitrogennightmare @chunnies @thirstworldproblemss @highly-unknown @tartimaar-bloggeth @thesmartbiscuit @spoopyredacted @crowtrobotx @kotall-ohh @doggydale

x. Prelude

1. Indebted

2. Blood On Your Hands

3. Brush With Death

4. Come To Bed

5. Smells Like Snow

6. Hot Iron

7. Turnover

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, sexual acts between two consenting adults and graphic depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]

Tucking into his sleeping bag that night, this time on a wooden lean-to thatched with old pine boughs, his stomach full of a delicious meal, Karl knew he ought to be content.

Hell, he ought to be worn out from a day of socializing. 

But all he could focus on was your back. You had spread out your sleeping roll next to his once you returned from the bathhouse, wished him goodnight sleepily and then immediately nodded off. You were on the outside instead of him, which Karl wasn't enormously fond of, but he understood that you were just too exhausted to climb over him.

Your back was tantalizingly close. It was the only part of you not wholly engulfed by your sleeping bag. He already knew what the weave of your thermal shirt felt like, after last night-

Karl forced himself to roll onto his back, tearing his eyes away from you. Thinking about it too much felt…wrong, somehow, like he was about to get his wrist slapped. Or broken. The merciful Mother Miranda hadn't exactly spared the rod when it came to him. 

The man forced a quiet breath out through his nose, his fingers absently mapping the length of the scar on his lower lip. 

It was still immensely foreign for him to want something and not instantly indulge himself in it. Really, it was going against the nature of the beast! Karl felt a little fake over the whole thing, like he was expected to just…devour you. Swallow you whole and leave nothing but the bones. This slow approach…

Was there anything in life actually worth waiting for? Gods, it had always been such a mad dash ever since he had decided he wanted to kill Miranda. Karl hadn't thought about waiting for anything else in years upon years, his single-minded ambition serving him well in that pursuit. 

Karl glanced over at you again before he could stop himself. 

Yes. Was it being greedy if you wanted it too?

He barely refrained from groaning, the man jamming his knuckles against his eyes in frustration. Sleep didn't come easily for him that night.

So he was a little disgruntled when he was awoken again, well before dawn if the sky was anything to go by. However, his malcontent rapidly vanished as he heard you drowsily ask, "can I put your dick in my mouth?"

Heisenberg didn't even think about his reply, much to his dismay. The word rushed out of his mouth before he could register it. "Absolutely." He grunted, your hand immediately moving to rest on the plane of his hip. "Aren't you tired though?"

"A little," you admitted, yawning, "but I want to do this."

"Listen, I…last night was kind of a fluke for me." Karl warned you gruffly, his words slow to come. It hadn't even been a fluke, it had been an outright baffling turn of events for him to only come once. In the past, it had always taken him a short eternity, at least three orgasms before he was satisfied. Something about last night, something about you had to have been different. Maybe it was the fact that it had been so long for him. "If you start this, it's probably not going to be over for…well, a while. So you don't have t-"

"Shh." You mumbled, unzipping his pants. "I don't care. I'm not doing this to get it out of the way, Karl."

His misgivings quickly faded when you ran your tongue over the side of his dick, Karl hissing out a breath and groaning. You looked incredible with his dick in your mouth. Your eyes were heated and drowsy, your hair still a mess from sleep, slightly-chilled fingers wrapped around the base of his cock so you could engulf him in your mouth…incredible, he could at least admit to himself. Even if he didn't deserve it.

And he certainly didn't. 

"Get up here." He managed to say, patting his chest. 

You pulled your mouth away, squinting up at him. "Where?" You asked, your spit-slick palm still working his cock. 

Karl gritted his teeth; he had forgotten you couldn't really see in the dark. "Uh. On my face." He finally clarified awkwardly. "I want you to sit on my face, sugar." 

"Oh." You breathed. Something in your tone made Karl's dick twitch, which was very new. He'd never had anything like that happen.

Fuck, what the hell was the matter with him? One person showed a little interest and all of a sudden his body was screaming for them? It felt pitiful, but maybe it made sense. No one had ever wanted him before, they had always wanted what he could offer them. Karl hadn't exactly had his pick of bedfellows either, the man not overeager to lose his dick to one thing or another. 

Maybe this was normal.

However, he didn't really feel like dedicating any more thought to that particular issue, choosing instead to focus on you gingerly straddling his head. 

…

Morning found you wrapped around a slumbering Karl, the insides of your thighs still pleasantly sensitive from the rub of his facial hair. You groaned, stretching and then settling back into his arms for another minute or two. 

Your mind drifted back to you waking up in the middle of the night, the sudden impulse to offer a sexual favor, acting on said impulse and how gratifying Karl's response had been. Hell, he hadn't so much as taken a beat before he answered. Your jaw was a little stiff this morning, but to be fair, he had warned you and apologized for how long the act might take. He had also gotten you off as well, which was unexpected but appreciated.

In the cold daylight you grimaced at yourself, thinking everything over. It might not be…so bad, having someone around that, even while being emotionally unavailable, was physically attracted to you. The attention was nice. The way he looked at you was nice. You could live with an arrangement like this. The two of you cohabitating, occasionally sleeping together, but without the mess of a relationship. 

It felt smart. Logical. A mutually-beneficial endeavor.

You nodded, your mind made up, and with that settled you moved to retrieve your discarded leggings from the base of your sleeping bag. The town campground had the rare luxury of bathrooms with running water and you intended to take full advantage of them once more. Any time you could bathe without having to lug or heat the water yourself was prized.

Upon your return from getting washed up for the day, Karl was just struggling out of the tangled mess of his sleeping bag. You took in the way he looked for a moment, catching yourself smiling at his disheveled appearance before he looked up with a scowl.

Seems like you may have tamed me.

"Thought you got eaten." He said unconvincingly, yawning midway through his sentence.

"Well, you certainly made a valiant attempt at doing so last night." You shot back, snickering at his momentary confusion. Whatever his hangup had been, it seemed that the casual nature of your most recent offer had been enough to dispel it. Heisenberg actually laughed once he realized what you were getting at, the sound refreshing in its honesty. 

"You know how I am, always ravenous." He teased with a wink, beginning to messily roll up his bedding. "At least you let me sleep for a few hours-"

"'Let' you, oh my God you're so dramatic."

Continuing to banter back and forth, the two of you broke down camp for the morning and got everything packed back up. As usual, you were returning to Emil's to pick up the supplies that you had secured the previous day, and from there it was back on the trail. 

Karl seemed to be in high spirits this morning, the man carrying on a lively, one-sided conversation with a glowering Emil while he effortlessly loaded the sled with bags of flour and sugar. Emil had always helped you in the past, so it was a bit humorous to see how put-out the elderly man was over Karl's assistance. 

"Take care of yourself, little one." Emil said before you departed, his brows furrowed in a serious expression. "We don't know what happened regarding the military presence at the reservoir and…" he paused, aiming a glare at the oblivious Karl. "Well, we don't know what we don't know, I suppose." He finished grudgingly.

"Thanks for looking out for me." You grinned, making Emil reluctantly smile back. "I can handle myself, but I appreciate the concern."

Emil caught your arm as you turned to leave. "I…I am unsure of the validity of Marku's reports. Promise me you will be safe." He murmured. You nodded. His shoulders sagged, the elderly man clearly relieved. "Thank you for humoring me, little one."

…

"What's he to you, some kind of uncle?" Heisenberg finally asked after the two of you had crossed the town line (indicated by a metal sign so worn it was essentially illegible). "Seemed a little more concerned than the average butcher or baker."

You sighed, glancing over at him. "Emil worked with my relatives for a long time, like I said. He's basically watched me grow up, coming here every fall for years and years with my family."

Karl 'hmm'ed, still annoyed with how Emil had sullenly watched him, but at least now he understood why. "Guess I'll have to let it slide, then." He joked lightly. "The disrespect."

He didn't expect you to laugh. "Don't feel special, he's like that with everyone new. Just stick around and he'll warm up to you."

Stick around. Karl wasn't sure what to make of that. He busied himself adjusting the load on the sled, double-checking the straps wrapped around the bags of flour and brown sugar. 

Did you…want him to stick around? Did you want him to stay in your cabin even longer? 

Indebted.

Karl tossed his head, jamming his hat back down as the wind whipped through the trees. "I assume you know the way?" He called over the wind, smirking when you gestured downward with a deadpan expression at the rutted, snow-covered track. The runner marks from the sled were still visible as well, indicating where the two of you had passed by yesterday.

You both skied in silence for a long while, Karl absently watching your hips move back and forth beneath your snowsuit. Due to the stark uniformity of the surrounding area there wasn't much else to look at anyways, so he didn't feel particularly bad for doing so. 

Casual, maybe that's what you were interested in? A casual relationship, some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement. You didn't seem to feel strongly one way or another, always keeping your cards close to your chest. It was probably simpler to keep things casual anyway. 

You had mentioned Emil and Marku saying something about 'a military presence at the reservoir'. He could only assume it was Moreau's reservoir, especially after that hunched old shepherd had asked if he had any relation to the Heisenberg factory. 

You look familiar. 

Had the older generation in that town met his relatives? His father, maybe? A shudder ran down his spine at the thought. Unless his former family had been better at hiding their urges than he was, he doubted they had left a good impression. He had gotten his legendary temper somewhere, after all.

That particular train of thought steamed onward, souring Karl's mood into a black chasm of bitter half-memories. Family was such a loaded topic, but it really always had been. After his father had passed on (too bad, so sad), family was confusing at best and downright terrible at worst. He didn't have anyone. He never had, and if he'd had his way it would have stayed as such. The bastardization of siblings, of mother, would always make him writhe. Even at a young age, he knew better than to trust what that cult leader wanted to fill his mind with.

They were a means to an end, they always had been. Miranda prettying it up with family was just another tactic to keep them loyal, devoted, good little sheep in her flock. 

"You okay?" Karl started at the sound of your voice beside him, the man quickly turning. You had paused for a drink, your water bottle in hand while you raised an eyebrow at him.

Damn, he was parched. "Lost in thought." Heisenberg muttered. 

"Want to talk about-"

"No." He snapped, then cringed at the way your face briefly showed your hurt before you could hide it. "I uh, no. Sorry. This stuff is better off in my head." 

"Don't think too hard, okay? I can see the steam coming out of your ears." You retorted snidely. 

Karl gave you a hollow grin, taking a healthy sip from his own bottle. "What can I say? I'm a machine of industry."

…

You may as well have been alone for all that your companion offered to the trek in terms of conversation. He trundled along behind you silently, the sled rails crunching through the icy top of the snow under their heavy burden. Nearly two hundred pounds of flour and sugar, never mind the other, less bulky items you had picked up. Your own backpack was carefully loaded to the brim, full of small essentials that would make your winter bearable. It was always important to find ways to stave off the boredom during the cold months, where it seemed like the entire world was hibernating except for you. 

The two of you walked well into the afternoon to reach the lean-to, choosing to eat lunch on the road as opposed to stopping. You found that often if you had a fully-loaded pack, stopping and starting back up again was more difficult than just continuing to plod forward. Karl didn't seem to mind one way or another, the man having no issue with keeping the even pace.

Upon reaching the lean-to, you took in the copious tracks through the snow around the area. Wolf prints criss-crossed over yours and Karl's, and at the outskirts of the clearing was the meandering trail of a solitary bear. You whistled at the sight of that, a little concerned. The lean-to was only about three feet off the ground; a normal-sized brown bear would be able to crawl into it on top of you and Karl and you doubted it would be overly thrilled with your company.

"What the hell? That big bitch ought to be in hibernation." Karl grumbled as he came up alongside you, the man placing a boot firmly in the middle of a pawprint. 

"Late bloomer, I guess." You shrugged, sighing. "I usually don't get much sleep on the return trip anyway. Too much food and the smells attract the wildlife." 

"Sugar, I'm here." Karl thumped himself on the chest, making you snort. "If that bear wants to pick a fight, I'll go mano a mano with it. I do not give a shit."

"I mean you're a bit better suited to the challenge than the average person, what with your ability to make metal listen to you." You pointed out. "The rest of us normies would have a real rough time, especially without a gun." Heisenberg's scoff of derision at that was almost deafening, startling another snicker out of you. "Forgive me, Lord Heisenberg." You teased.

"Don't call me that." His tone dropped to a low growl, entirely lacking in humor. You gave him a confused look and he groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Look, I…I just don't want to think about that shit right now," he continued quietly. 

"Okay." Christ, you felt awkward. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Karl glanced around, then set off in a random direction. You watched him go, worried until he bent to scoop up a few twigs from beneath a tree. The relief that washed over you was…odd, so you staunchly ignored it by beginning to mound up the ashes in the fire pit. 

Scraping the char off to the sides, you worked to separate out the half-burned sticks from the rest of the ash so that you could build the fire properly. A few moments of digging around later and you had a decent pile of kindling, using your knife to splinter the burnt branches into a more useful size. The act was meditative, helping you to turn off the part of you that so desperately wanted to think about Karl, about his past, about…

You shook your head, frustrated at yourself. Now wasn't the time for this! You needed to get the fire going before you lost daylight. That was the priority.

Karl dumped an armful of branches onto the ground beside the half barrel, his eyes distant and reply vague when you thanked him. Clearly he too was thinking hard. He began methodically snapping branches in half, breaking them down into a more manageable size while you continued to carefully stack the kindling. When you finally slipped a match in between the twigs and splinters, you were relieved by how quickly the flames caught. Sometimes it was a little touch and go!

"What's on the menu, sugar?" Heisenberg asked, opening the flap of his pack and then looking at you expectantly. 

"Well, we've got the leftovers from last night's dinner." You had packed the two cardboard takeaway containers (with plastic cutlery, what luxuries!) into the outside of your pack to keep them cold, so you directed him to where they were. "We also have the last of the preserves, at least until we get home, and the bread."

"Save that for the morning, we can make toast." Karl reasoned and you nodded in agreement. 

The two takeout containers were soon splayed open, Heisenberg offering you a bite of his cheese pie in exchange for one of the cabbage rolls you had saved. The two of you took turns warming your ramshackle dinner over the fire, Karl having fashioned a sort of long fork out of a section of metal from the top of the barrel in order to facilitate the process. 

"Granted, I could just stick my hand into the fire, but I don't feel like healing third degree burns tonight." Karl waved his fingers well above the flames in a joking manner.

"Does anything actually hurt you?" You asked curiously, kicking yourself when his expression darkened immediately. 

"Shit hurts me like it hurts everyone else." Heisenberg responded stiffly. "I've still got nerve endings. They're a little fried, but there." 

"Sorry, I'm really putting my foot in my mouth tonight." You tried to apologize but he waved it off.

"You're allowed to be curious, sugar. If I didn't want to answer, I wouldn't." 

"Yeah but I'm not owed information. I'm just nosy, I guess. Don't feel like you have to answer things just because I ask them." At that, you were pleased to see the tension in his shoulders ease somewhat. You wondered if he had felt like he had to answer you, even if it made him uncomfortable. 

"Thanks," was his eventual reply, and the two of you lapsed into a companionable silence while you finished dinner.

…

Heisenberg woke to a fresh dusting of snow on the ground, your face buried in his chest and frost coating his eyebrows. He grumbled, rubbing the heel of his palm back and forth to dislodge the icy remains on his forehead. Drowsy eyes traveled to the two packs that he had hoisted high up into a nearby tree, the man relieved to see them still hanging unscathed. There were also no fresh tracks in the snow that he could see from his reclined position, another good sign.

It had been a quiet night, then. That was a relief. Karl had been concerned about a possible scuffle in the night, either with local wildlife or old friends, but it seemed his fears had been unfounded.

"Time to wake up, sugar." Karl murmured, rubbing your back. "Home tonight, if all goes well."

"Mhm," you hummed, pressing an absent kiss to the underside of his jaw before you rolled upright and stretched. A wide yawn quickly turned into violent shivering and you rushed to wrap yourself up in your sleeping bag. "Shit it's cold, damn." You grumbled, grabbing the ski suit you had tucked into the foot last night and wriggling the legs of it up over your base layer. 

Karl, still a little confused from your kiss, just slid out of the lean-to after donning his boots. He almost welcomed the cold, it was bracing in a way. Grounding. Don't think about it.

"Bread should be in your pack, close to the top." You called when he moved to lower the two hanging bags from their lofty perch. 

"Got it." Karl replied, slinging both packs over his shoulder so they didn't end up in the fresh powder on the ground. After setting the backpacks down in the lean-to, he quickly located the wrapped loaf of bread and handed it off to you, chuckling as you ripped the heel off the loaf and shoved it into your mouth. "Hungry this morning?"

You nodded, struggling to swallow momentarily. "It's tough, I feel like I'm always hungrier after other people's cooking." You admitted. 

"Alright, well, let's get breakfast going before you eat the whole damn loaf." Don't think about it.

But gods, it was difficult. He coaxed the fire back to life and you toasted half the loaf in one go, your eyes so intent on the task it was nearly comical. Then came the last of the preserves you had brought, a little crystalline from being at the bottom of the jar but no less delicious. Karl got a little of the sticky substance in his mustache and you noticed it before he did, the man not realizing until you were wiping it clean with a soft laugh. "You always eat so fast! Nobody's going to take it from you, I promise."

Don't think about it, Karl reminded himself sternly on the trail later that day, finding his eyes wandering to your hips once more. Don't think about it, damn it all. 

Things could be simple. He didn't need to ruin it by thinking about it, like he had done with everything else in his life. He could be happy like this, actually happy. So why the hell did he feel the need to think and subsequently shred his chances of existing peacefully? 

You ruin everything you touch.

Heisenberg set his jaw tight enough to feel the ticking of his muscles. It felt too inevitable, too sinisterly obvious. He was going to do something to ruin this for himself. Maybe he already had set it in motion. He had put his hands on you, had touched you freely, and–

Don't think about it.

What more could he do, though? Without his title, without the want for his title, all he had now was worry, concern, and doubt. His closest friends throughout his life, crowding in once again to drown him with the ceaseless loop of regret. Not remorse, mind, Karl didn't believe remorse was a thing he could feel, but he could understand that he had done monstrous things and justified them in the name of taking down Miranda. Where his 'siblings' had treated their endeavors as the greater good, Heisenberg knew damn well that his goals were nothing so glamorous. 

You ruin everything you touch. 

His vision blurred and Heisenberg chose to stare at the ground for a very, very long time, focusing on his skis retreading the tracks from your own. Behind him the sled full of supplies continued to be pulled along, the runners carving deeper into the snow than either you or Karl's skis. While he was intent on this particular task the man made his most valiant effort yet to entirely turn his brain off and, to his relief, it seemed to work for a little while. No thinking about what he had done, no fear about what he might do. Just one foot in front of the other, over and over again until the two of you reached more familiar woodlands.

Home.

That jolted him out of his thoughtless respite, much to his dismay. It wasn't his home, his home was some mold-ridden hellpit and he knew that. No matter how far he strayed, no matter how much he tried to ignore or forget, that factory was his home. The village was his home, with its sullen gray skies and the taste of rust perpetually in his mouth. 

You skied back to him, a smile on your face. Clearly you had noticed his flagging pace. "Almost home, Karl! Only a little further. You need a break? Snack?"

Home. 

Karl gritted his teeth until they creaked under the pressure, uncertain if the taste of iron was from phantom rust or if he had just cracked a tooth. He forced himself to ease his posture, willed his jaw to loosen, and opened his mouth. "I'd like a snack, yeah. I'm starving." He confessed unexpectedly, the actual response he had intended to give being 'no let's just get this done'.

"You got it!" Slinging your pack around, you dug through until you seized another cardboard takeaway container. "From Rache, Marku's wife. She gave us some donuts. Or, wait no, they're called papanasi I think."

Papanasi. Karl's mind latched onto the familiar word just as hungrily as his hands latched onto the fried good. It returned something to him, in a strange way. A memory, or maybe a dream of a memory: someone handing a small, hungry child a warm treat. 

Was he crying? Heisenberg cringed, trying to turn away so that you wouldn't see him wipe his eyes. He still flinched when you caught his arm but instead of berating him (or whatever the hell else he had been expecting), you simply used the end of your scarf to scrub at his cheek. 

"There! You had a little smudge." You smiled at him and Karl managed to muster up a watery twitch of his lips in return, the man rushing to cram the rest of the treat into his mouth to save him from engaging in some form of conversation.

Home. 

Part Nine

[midnight-lilac-blue-hues]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.

There are no horses that need saving in this fic ;P

(\ _ /)

( o0o)

Wolfwood × reader

Warning!!! NSFW below the cut

AFAB reader, smut, cowgirl position (yeehaw), ass smacking (just once), I live for country wolfwood, men moaning, creampie, slight overstimulation, lots of swearing.

Note: excited because this is my first trigun fic :] and I'm also back!! (I say about to take summer classes) but nevertheless, enjoy this holy meal ^^!!

"Hurry up there, cowboy," Wolfwood leaning back on the bed, elbows propping himself up to look at you.

"Hush," you hissed, "you know I get antsy right before we fuck." Pulling your shirt off, and stepping out of your shorts.

"I'd doubt that, cos' with the way you're speakin' yo-"

"I'd said hush," you covered his mouth with the palm of your hand. You quickly unbuckled his belt with your free hand, sitting on his lap and running your lips up and down his tawny neck.

You pressed yourself further into the priest, embracing the skin-to-skin contact while he runs his fingers into your hair. His hips ever so gently roll up into yours, his clothed cock pressed right over your clit causing you to mewl into his mouth. 

You unlatch your lips from Wolfwood's neck with a 'so good' drooling from your lips. You felt a rough hand run down your back, rubbing your ass in circles. "You'd think you can ride a bull? Or are you gonna be screaming my name so loud the whole inn can hear?"

"I can handle it," you gulped.

"Good," a harsh smack stung your ass, "giddy up, cowgirl." He said with a smirk.

You gave him a glare before guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance. "You know after that smack, I shouldn't give you a piece of me," grinding down on Wolfwood's tip just enough it wouldn't go in but would leave him begging.

"Come on, princess. How else are you gonna show me you can handle it?" His rough hands rest on your soft hips, "Sorry about that though, doll," his hand smoothed your hips.

You trailed the curves of your torso, finding Wolfwood's hands, and lacing your fingers together. Using his hands, you lowered yourself down onto his hard-on with a sigh. His quick gasp caused a shiver to run up your spine.

"Tight as ever, huh?"

"S-shut up," you squeezed his hands and shut your eyes.

"At least take me all the way down, then I'll think about it," Wolfwood gave you another cheeky smirk.

You humph, pulling up leaving the tip in, and sinking further down until your rear was sitting on Wolfwood's thick thighs.

You began riding Wolfwood, using his hands as leverage. You sighed, feeling his cock pressing the soft spot inside, over and over again. "Haa~ it feels good," you whispered, rubbing your clit on his pubic bone.

"Careful there, princess. You're twitchin' already," Wolfwood grunted underneath you.

"Focus on yourself, Wolfwood. I can feel your dick throbbing." You felt your face grow hotter and hotter.

Wolfwood hummed, "That so?" Digging his heels into the mattress, thrusting his hips up to meet yours as you came down. "Cos' I'm always throbbing whenever I see you. Especially when you try to act tough."

You choked on your own moan, squeezing Wolfwood's hand so hard, nail markings will definitely show up the next day. His pace was relentless, causing you to curl over him.

You cursed under your breath, feeling yourself get closer to your climax. And you could Wolfwood was also close, as his grunts and a few of his whines grew more audible.

He slipped his fingers out of yours, bringing them to your hips, pulling them down to grind on his own. Letting out a dissatisfied whine, you frowned at the man. "Fuck!" You squeaked out, feeling your cunt throbbing around his shaft, "what was that about?!"

"It wouldn't be fair to me if you got to set the pace, now would it?" Wolfwood leaned forward, guiding your movements like you were nothing but a fuck toy for him. 

This was really bad, you were so close to your climax. Your hips rutted into Wolfwood's waist as your moans spiked up and up.

"Fuck yeah baby, moan for me, just like that~" he purred. He began kissing your neck, his stubble brushed against your collarbone forcing a loud moan to spill from your lips. "Oh fuck yeah!" He growled into your neck. Suddenly, you felt warmth fill your pussy, quickly sending you over your peak.

Wolfwood's grip on you became loose, allowing you to pin him back down onto the mattress. You continue to ride out your orgasm on his cock, enjoying how your pussy seems to weep around him. Wolfwood's breath quickly became whines and whimpers.

"Oh my God, doll! W-wait, augh- slow down," he begged, throwing his head back. 

"Damn Nico, I thought you were going to have me scream so loud- the entire inn would hear us," you smirked as your hips found a new desire to continue moving. You chuckled, "Keep being a good boy, and I'll think about slowing down."

[keke-shiki]

˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

IF Y'KNOW ME IRL, NO YOU DON'T!

---------First SmutFic, shh---------

WARNINGS: nsfw content below, afab reader (no pronouns), breeding kink, cream pie, oral (M&F receiving), masturbation, voyeurism, femdom, Mommy kink, 69

SMUT BELOW

After a long day of traveling, you and the group wanted nothing more than to unwind and relax in this round of motel rooms. You, Vash, Meryl, Wolfwood and Milly all settle into your respective rooms. You decide to go for a walk around the place to get a better feel of your temporary home. You put on a jacket and your slippers and exit your room. As you're walking down the hallway, you notice Vash's door slightly ajar, you assumed he was awake and perhaps you could walk with him, perfect bonding time eh? Without giving any thought you push the door open and instantly you realize why you should've knocked. Vash yelps in panic and covers himself with the sheets on the bed.

"Y-Y/N, uhm...it's not what it looks like" Vash stutters out.

You decide that the tension between you two needed to end. A smirk grows across your face.

"Oh really? Well then it wouldn't be a problem if I stayed then hm?" You tease as you walk slightly closer to his bed, shutting his door in the process.

"I- uhm..ok..well maybe you..uhm-"

You're already sitting next to him, sitting legs crossed looking at him with a devilish grin. Vash's cheeks turn a cute shade of pink. You liked him from the start, you had always assumed Meryl liked him and you didn't want to intrude, but your lust was getting the better of you. You scoot closer to him to the point your legs are almost touching, and you lean close to his ear and whisper "Do you wanna be honest with me now?".

Vash whines a little bit too himself. "C'mon Vash, you gotta use your words, I won't do anything unless you tell me to".

Vash shyly removes the sheet to reveal his rock hard length. You blush at it, but clear your throat quickly to hide your shock for just how big it is. Precum is already dripping from it as you look at him. "Well, what do you want pretty boy~?"

Vash clears his throat. "Would you uhm..help me out here?". You smirk, as you gently grab his cock and stroke it ever so lightly to tease him. He shudders as the new feeling, he had never done this with anyone before so the new sensation of someone else touching him was quite new. "harder..please~ mommy~", he mutters out as he leans back on his elbows. The name took you aback a bit, but you weren't complaining, you kinda liked it. You giggle to yourself. You begin to stroke him a lil harder, while licking the drip of precum coming out. He exhales sharply. "You like that huh?" You tease.

"Mhm~" he moans in reply "keep doing it..please~". How could you refuse him that, he was being so good for you. You slowly dip your head down and kiss the tip, which causes a gasp from Vash. Without any warning you go all the way down on him, causing him to yell out in pleasure. "Shhh, you don't want the others to hear you, do you?~" You tease once more. "If you don't be quiet, I'll have to shut you up myself hmm?"

Vash couldn't deny he was curious what you would do, and he was willing to find out, so when you go down once more, he moans even louder. "Oh~ You want me to shut you up?~ Ok~". You stand up and begin undressing. He can't help but blush over your body, its just exquisite, your tits are small and perky, and your thighs are so plush and cute, what he'd give to be in between them. You climb onto the bed and whisper in his ear, "100% sure you want me to?~" And he nods. You smirk as you lower your dripping pussy over his face, in the 69 position, you smugly lean down to suck his cock but his tongue jolts out of his mouth and onto your throbbing clit, causing you to yelp out at the sudden sensation. He lifts you off him for a second to speak, "I thought you were shutting me up" He smirks.

You grunt slightly before continuing to suck him off. His moans sending vibrations through your throbbing bud.

"I.. I'm close~" you whimper out. "D.. don't stop~"

Except he did just that, he stopped. You whimper out once more until you're thrown onto the bed next to him, he leans up and climbs on top of you before you can protest. "Hey!-" you try to protest but his lips are already on yours in a deep passionate kiss. You melt into it. "Vash~" you moan into his mouth as he slides his hand down your body. He breaks the kiss and hovers over. "Can I fuck you~ please~" he begs. You nod quickly..a bit too quickly but you weren't complaining. He spreads your legs and rubs the tip along your entrance, teasing you. You get inpatient, so you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him into you. "Fuck!!~" he whines. You scrunch your face at the stretch. "A..are you ok?" He slightly moans out. You nod. "Imma move now ok?~" you nod once more. He slowly pulls out and watches your face relax. He slams back into you, both your guys' hips clashing. He's a whiny mess, you're surprised he even had the balls to take control with how subby he sounds. He's thrusting into you at an ungodly pase and you're loving it. He hits every one of your good spots and you feel yourself getting close again. "Baby..~ I'm gonna cum~", you exclaim. "Me too~, Cum with me~"

After a few more hard thrusts you both cum. Your walls clenching against him, milking him. After a few seconds of calming down he climbs off of you. "i-im sorry" he apologizes. "Don't be, I loved it" you reply as you lean up to kiss him. He smiles and kisses you back. He scoops you up and heads towards the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up my love".

[fruitsoxs]

me: *manifests in anyone's inbox as soon as wolfwood is mentioned*

hey socks! (love your name too btw) I haven't interacted yet but I really enjoyed reading your stuff, so here I am - Wolfwood prompts, you ask? how about him overhearing the reader get off, and maybe even them moaning his name? I know that's a classic prompt but haven't spotted anyone who wrote it for our man here

i like your mind anon--

pairings: wolfwood x (gender neutral) reader

warnings: !nsfw minors dni! , masturbating , descriptions of moaning, a bit of religious imagery but not a lot , idk wolfwood may be being a bit of a creep but you love him so it's okay

notes: just as a general rule i try to keep the reader gender neutral when answering requests unless the gender is specified- so if you want the reader to have a specific gender just ask :) also it's a bit short but i hope it's okay!! also i kind headcannon that they take turns deciding who gets a room the themselves-- and it just so happened to be your turn--

A better man would have ignored the sweet noises coming from your room the moment he heard them through the thin walls. However, Wolfwood is not a better man. In fact, he considers himself to be the worst of the worst. Someone’s whose sins are unforgivable in the eyes of God. So maybe that’s why, instead of respectfully ignoring the situation, his ear is pressed up against the cool wall as he drinks in every last noise you make.

At first he was a bit worried. 

Vash had passed out the moment his head hit the pillow, but Wolfwood’s head was full of all kinds of thoughts. Things he couldn’t fall asleep to without a fuck load of alcohol probably. So he’s left tossing and turning in the uncomfortable bed by himself for a while- until he hears a small whimper from the room next to him. The room you’re staying in.

He’s up immediately, a cold fear washing through his body. Are you hurt? Did somebody break into your room? He’s close to grabbing the punisher and knocking down the wall in between the rooms just to make sure you are safe- and then the next noise happens.

A moan.

Oh.

His face instantly erupts into a fiery shade of red, his heart slamming against his ribs. That wasn’t a very heavenly noise. He looks over to make sure Vash is still asleep (he should know by now that even the end of the world couldn’t wake that man up), and lets out a sigh of relief when he sees that his traveling companion is still passed out. 

Another soft moan erupts from your room, and the noise shoots down right to his dick. He’s already getting hard. It doesn’t help that he’s imagining what you look like right now. Sprawled out on your bed, lips parted and face flushed. He imagines your legs parted, your hand in between, touching yourself just the way you like.

Another moan - and he can practically see it leaving your pretty lips.

He doesn’t even realize how close to the wall he’s gotten, chasing the sounds that emanate from your room. You get louder the closer he gets, and he’s able to pick up on more sounds. It’s a beautiful symphony to his ears.

At some point his hand sneaks down to his groin, as he starts palming himself through his pants. This is wrong. He shouldn’t be listening to this- but another moan from you and all his guilt melts into a need. A lust that no man who carries a cross should have. He grunts as he dips his hand into the waistline of his pants, wrapping his hand around his dick. You whimper out something - a name or a curse. He can’t tell, you stutter it out so softly. He can’t even feel jealousy for whoever’s name falls from your heavenly lips. He doesn’t have time, because you begin to whimper in just a way that has him pulling down his pants.

His mind is blank at this point, too focused on the string of curses and moans that leave your lips. His hand moves, pumping his shaft with an intensity he hasn’t felt in a long time. He’s not sure if he’ll ever recover from this. He moves his hand a bit faster, a bit tighter-

“W….Wolfwood~”

He freezes. 

His eyes widen and his body tenses completely. What was that? There’s no way…he definitely just heard you wrong. His hand drops to his side and he presses his ear against the wall. He’s sure he heard his name just now. But then, like a prayer, his name leaves your lips again. 

He stands there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Before he hikes up his pants and sprints out his door. He slams his fist against your door and calls your name.

You emerge a little while later. Your hair is a mess, your eyes wide, and your cheeks a beautiful pink. It’s a perfectly normal sight for anyone who doesn’t know what you were just doing. Wolfwood knows though. He can’t help but stare at you for a second, and he wonders if you can tell that he was doing the same thing.

After a moment, you begin to ask what he’s doing but he cuts you off. “The walls are thin.” Is the only explanation he gives before he crashes his lips against yours.

[drunkenlionwrites]

thinking about wolfwood and blasphemy kink 🙏

🥵🥵 I’m dying, anon. Why would you do this to me?

Your favorite pastime is riling up and teasing Wolfwood, saying some shit like “mmm didn’t know a priest should do such a thing” coming up to him while he’s already half drunk, or indulging into playing poker with Vash and random goons at the saloon. Or tsk-ing with mocking smile at him while he’s smiling and wrapping a hand over a girl behind a bar counter. You’re a menace. He feels like you watch his every move trying to find his weak spots, always mocking, always berating, always laughing at him, always flustering him like no other human can. But even such a patient man like him (he truly considers himself so) can have a limit. One night he’ll rush out of saloon after you after one of your usual cocky remarks, grabbing you by the elbow and pressing you to the wall in a dirty alley behind the bar.

Now it’s your turn to feel flustered and avert your eyes from him.

“What’s up beautiful, you don’t dare to look in the eyes of a priest?” he’ll blow a cigarette smoke at your face, his hands already squeezing your hips and roaming down your thighs, hoisting one of your legs around his waist, your skirts rising up, while his arm is caressing the inside of your bare thigh, coming up really close to your core. He smirks at the shivers coming down your body.

“Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins” he recites, while his fingers caress your clothed pussy. A moan erupts from your mouth, your eyes dark, pupils stupidly dilated.

“Let all that you do be done in love” he whispers in your ear, when his fingers push aside your panties and find your slit. You close your eyes, your breath hitches and you buck your hips into him. He darkly chuckles.

“So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” he continues, and his finger is already inside of you, pumping at a fast pace, not minding your cries and moans.

“Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh” he grunts, inserting his second finger inside, while pressing on the spongy spot inside of you, watching you unravel and clutch around him, leaving you completely breathless.

“Think with your pretty head next time when you’re calculating on what to say to the father” he whispers into your ear while releasing his hold from you and nonchalantly returning back to the saloon, his hands in pockets, leaving you dumbfounded and fucked out, leaning on the wall.

[punisheye]

It's late when they leave the reception. It feels a little like a fairytale, really, the way that they're escorted away in some horse-drawn carriage illuminated by colorful fairy lights around them.

Their fingers are tangled together. Wolfwood has his head resting on Vash's shoulders, his eyes fluttered shut, slipping in and out of a pleasant, warm doze to the sound of his husband's breathing and the steady rhythm of horse's hooves against the dirt path. They both ate a lot, drank a little bit, danced most of the night. He's pleasantly sleepy.

But...

The carriage comes to a stop and it jostles Wolfwood back to full awareness. He lifts his head from Vash's shoulder. The coachman comes around to open up the door for them and as Wolfwood exits he pulls out his phone to make sure to send a very generous tip.

It's a nice little cottage in the woods; they're only here for a night, it's too late to travel all the way to their honeymoon spot tonight, so they'll be heading there in the morning.

The key is at the top of the door frame. When Wolfwood unlocks the door he finds that their suitcases are already waiting for them, prepared for the next ten days. It's a miracle, also, that the doors and ceilings are tall enough for two huge guys like them.

Wolfwood stretches, hearing his spine pop, and grunts.

"What a night, huh?"

@amoirsetpacis

[dearestspirit]

go for it

-> nicholas d. wolfwood x gn!reader

-> fluff, strangers to something more?, there's a part where someone acts creepy while drunk towards reader

-> wc: 1264

-> note: ever since i finished tristamp and then watched 98 trigun in rapid succession i honestly have not stopped thinking of wolfwood, so. here's this until i process my emotions enough to write something deeper about him

a plume of cigarette smoke curls through the air, stinging your nostrils. it's been a long day of trudging through the desert, and all you wanted was to get a refreshing drink. of course, your only option was some seedy bar crammed into a dark corner of town. it barely took two steps into the saloon before every pair of eyes was on you. with how many patrons there were sitting around, you assumed everyone else was here doing the same thing you were: escaping the suffocating heat of the sun as it went down.

you take a moment to steel yourself. there were all sorts of questionable people throughout no man's land, it's not like this would be your first time handling strangers. still, it's not like you really wanted to put up with any violent behavior with how exhausted you were. rolling your shoulders, you huff and make your way to the bar, sidling yourself into one of the stools. the two chairs next to you remain empty, though there's a man sitting at the curved end of the bar that's got an eye on you. he peers over his dark glasses, cigarette between his lips. you give him a hesitant, lopsided smile as some sort of greeting, inwardly cringing at your actions. you shrug it off as the bartender makes quick work of your order. they slide a full glass mug over to you, a few drops of your drink spilling over onto the counter.

you eagerly go to gulp it down, craving the relief of something ice cold, until an arm wraps around your shoulder.

already there's a twitch in your eye, annoyed that someone is pestering you. all you wanted to do was get in, get a drink, and get the hell out. things could just never be that easy out here, huh?

"hey," the voice belonging to the arm slurs, clearly delirious on alcohol. "you're not from around here."

"nope." your reply is curt, leaving little opening for the person to continue talking to you.

"if you're staying a while, my friends and i can help show you around," they prod an elbow into your side, making you grunt slightly. "get you settled up at our place, even."

"good thing i'm not planning to be here long, then," you gulp down the contents of your cup. "if you couldn't tell, i'm not interested in your company. not your friend's company, either."

"damn, you're not real friendly." they sneer, rolling their eyes.

despite your protests, they still move themselves closer to you, completely ignoring your personal space. the grip on your cup strengthens out of frustration. you're gearing up to tell this person off for the last time so you can pay and leave. before you can though, the mysterious man from the other end of the bar pulls the stranger away from you by the shoulder.

"didn't you ever learn what 'no' means, dumbass?" he chides, clicking his tongue. the person struggles in his grasp, but he holds tightly to them. "you've been a nuisance to anything that comes in here on two legs, take a fuckin' hint and get out."

"whatever," they scoff, pulling themselves away. "wasn't really interested anyway."

they end up walking off, stumbling clumsily out of the saloon.

"so if i sit here, would that be goin' from one idiot to the next, or?" he cracks a goofy grin your way, pointing at the stool that was just occupied.

while you weren't jumping at the opportunity, you figured he at least wasn't completely out of his mind intoxicated. "go for it, cowboy." you tell him, gesturing to the bartender to get a refill. you decided once you finished that glass, you'd leave.

apparently, the night had other plans for you. the man, who had introduced himself as wolfwood, was quite the charmer. he had you laughing and chatting with him at the bar all the way up until last call. there was something like hesitance in his eyes as he watched the bartender scurry around, preparing to close up.

"look, uh," wolfwood starts, cigarette clinging to his mouth. "can't afford much, but i can get you a room at a nearby inn. your own room. separate. i just thought… you deserve somethin' nice after you had what seems like a shit day."

you can tell he isn't the type to usually be sincere– probably somewhat of a flirt who prefers to fool around. with your chin in your hand, you peer at him to see if you can guess his intentions by looking at him. he scritches at the stubble on his cheek, eyes looking to the side so he isn't making direct eye contact with you.

"are you embarrassed?" you question, head tilting with a grin.

"no," he firmly denies, going to take another drag of his cigarette. "it's just an offer, nothin' more to it."

"hm," you mumble, pouting dramatically as you lean to bump him with your shoulder. "too bad, i thought you might have some interest in me."

at that, he makes an attempt to subtly straighten up– though, it's pretty blatantly obvious that your words got his attention. he coughs harshly, smoke fluttering out; though he's careful to not to blow it straight into your face. sort of the bare minimum, but it's a nice gesture regardless.

"is this your first time having a cigarette or do i just make you nervous?" you chuckle, nudging him with your shoulder again. he very clearly and forcefully rolls his eyes, groaning.

"oh please," wolfwood mumbles, ashing the cigarette out into the tray on the bar. "you're tryin' too hard to flatter yourself. but…"

he trails off, and there's something like a distant fondness in his eyes. once more, you think he must have somewhat of a hard time expressing sincerity in his emotions– he seems more of an 'actions speak louder than words' type of guy. though you recognize you're basing all this off of the few hours you’ve spent with him at a bar, of all places. part of you feels like if you were to get closer with him that he could open up more. another part of you feels like you really want to see that happen.

"alright, alright," you tell him. "i accept your offer. it's kind of you."

his shoulders finally untense, your eyes catching the slight droop of them. "christ, thought i was gonna have to jump through hoops to finally get an answer out of you." he jests, but you can tell by his grin that he is genuinely relieved.

however, you can also tell that the bartender's annoyance at the two of you still being there is increasing. their glare as they wipe down the last remaining glasses is prominent.

"c'mon," wolfwood's already getting up, offering his arm up to you to take. he really was gentleman-like, despite his often crass way of speaking. "it's probably best to head on out."

settling into his side, you find a familiar sense of warmth and comfort emanating from him– it's been a while since you last were this close to someone. the desert was unforgiving with civilizations few and far between, not to mention your mainly nomadic lifestyle. it all culminated in a lack of personal relationships, which you never liked to dwell on for too long. but, you were only human. and you certainly couldn’t deny the rush of excitement you felt being walked to your lodging for the night.

you just hoped that, come morning, wolfwood would still be in the room next door.