#i loved writing about Vash's scars and ugh i just love all of them

[multiverse-imagines]

How do you think Vash and Wolfwood would deal with having sex for the first time with their s/o and it turns out their s/o is lovingly soft dominant. They end up just naturally taking charge cuz they wanna make sure wolfwood/Vash and themselves are equally satisfied and tired when finished cuz they love vash/wolfwood so much?

So this one is a twofer!!!! I am disgruntled at how I was more invested in the Wolfwood one, but maybe I'll write some proper Vash smut that I'm willing to post on the Internet soon. Still loved writing them!

Vash: Let Me Love You

It was late at the Inn, and you had curled up with Vash for the night. Though you were comfortable, he seemed to be squirming.

"You okay, Vash?" You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"Y-Yeah, it's just that my shirt is a little uncomfortable." He placed his hand on the tight compression armor shirt he always wore under his coat.

"You can take it off if you want." You frowned, concerned for his comfort.

"I-I lost my last T-shirt after leaving the last town, so I don't have anything to change into."

"You don't have to wear a shirt around me, I'm your partner, ya know?" Vash seemed taken aback by your words.

"I don't want you to see my scars. They're not something I like people to see."

"It's not gonna chase me away, Love. Besides, it's pretty dark here anyway." You shrugged. Vash paused before sitting up on the bed, and taking off the heavy and stiff shirt. Tossing it to thunk on the floor near his bag. He laid back down quickly, bringing the blanket you shared over his shoulder. You cuddled up to him once again, giving him gentle kisses.

You somehow awoke before him the next morning, the blanket had been tossed aside in Vash's sleep, allowing you to gently run your fingers over the various scars and metal plating on his chest as he lay flat on his back. There were so many of them. You had seen the four that flowed over his shoulder, and grown fond of it, but this little cross on his hip was becoming your new favorite. You looked over his torso with wonder and delight.

"H-Having fun?" Vash stuttered, causing you to snap your head up to him.

"I didn't mean to wake you!" You pulled your hand away.

"N-no, please, keep touching them. No one ever has." He glanced away momentarily. You smiled and continued exploring the scars on his chest. The triple slashing scar on his right shoulder, and the long one that passed them and ended at his right peck. The skin was rough, yet he still stiffened at your touch. He seemed to be keeping himself from squirming. You moved to sit on top of him, straddling his thighs.

You inspected one that had been piquing your interest, the three metal bars that resided along his ribs on his right side. They ended just before the largest scar that spanned the entire curve of his side, down to his hip. You traced your fingers along the edge of it, and you tried not to give attention to the way he tripped the bed sheets beneath him.

His sweatpants were down just far enough to see the scar on the side of his hip, next to your favorite cross. You gave extra attention to that one, giving a gentle massage

You moved to the metal grate that covered where his left nipple used to be, and the sprawling scars just beneath them. You took notice of a small stitch that ended just before his prosthetic arm. He stifled a giggle as your thumb grazed it. You paid it no mind as you inspected the scars on his left shoulder. You noticed one just above his clavicle. Since you had nowhere else to look for the moment, you leaned forward on his lap, giving a gentle kiss on his neck.

A hitching hiss ran through his teeth, and you knew it was time.

"So you like that, Vash?" You whispered. He nodded under you, and you began working your way back around his scars, giving attentive kisses to every scar.

"H-hey, you don't have to-" he was cut off by the look you gave him. You were looking up from the small scar just above the cross, and you slid forward to kiss him, your hips now resting on his.

"I want to." You whispered, not backing up too far from his lips, "I want to give love to every scar on your body. They're a part of you, and I love all of you." You returned to his lips before he could answer, only letting a grunt slip between the two of you, "So Vash, will you let me love you?"

"Y-YesPlease." He said hurriedly as if to keep himself from refusing.

~End~

—------------

Wolfwood: A Confession Well Versed

It started with a few too many drinks. It always seemed like it started that way. Though the two of you had been minorly Intimate, it was always the alcohol that seemed to loosen the two of you up.

It was how you admitted your feelings for one another. Your first kiss was fueled by Southern Comfort and Jack Daniels.

"I appreciate you inviting me to your room, ya know. It means a lot." He mumbled, attempting to be quiet as the two of you walked up the creaky stairs to the second floor of the Inn and entered your room.

"Yeah, but if I may say, I don't think you're much of a preacher. I mean, you get sloshed on Sundays, and… and…" you trailed off trying to find a second reason. Had you been a little more with it, you would have found the perfect opportunity to call out his irresponsibility due to him losing the room key to his room at the inn.

That's why he was here, in your room taking his clothes off. His sun tanned skin shined an Enchanting bronze in the moonlight from the window. You had changed into your own pajamas of red shorts and a blue tank top. Down to an undershirt and his blue & white striped boxer shorts, he waltzed towards you,

"I am a real preacher. I live by the word of God, and do my best to help my fellow man." He defended. He placed a kiss to your lips, the mix of whiskey and bourbon sending a chill down your spine, "for instance, I can see all that desire to sin all over your face. You can always use my confessional, you know."

"Why don't you prove it, Preacher Man? I can confess my sins without that stupid box." You said as you gently pushed him down to sit onto your bed, "Preach to me." You pushed him back gently and crawled on top of him, straddling his hips. He paused a moment, thrown off by your assertive motion. He sat up against the headboard to the best of his ability.

"Your lips are like a scarlet thread, and your mouth is lovely. Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goat leaping down the slopes of Gilead.” Song of Solomon Chapter 4: 3" he recited, placing a hand to cup your face, and a hand to run through your hair.

"You know if it weren't for the goat part, I would have thought you were lying. Good job." You kissed him sweetly, giving a soft grind of your hips against his. He stifled a growl of pleasure before parting from you.

“Your lips drip nectar, my bride; honey and milk are under your tongue; the fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.” Song of Solomon Chapter 4:11" he nearly chanted as he pulled your shirt off of your torso.

"My bride? That's lovely, but I'm pretty sure that booze is the only fragrance here." You hummed a smile, and returned to his lips, pressing him into the bed, and paused to remove your shorts and underwear. He did the same, removing his clothes before the two of you joined again. He hummed contently, casually taking a breast into each hand.

“Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle that graze among the lilies.” Song of Solomon 4: 5" he gave a gentle squeeze in a slow rhythm. You sighed out airy moans at the touch,

"Did you know… I used to read the bible too?"

"Did you? Let me hear something." He smirked.

"(Proverbs 7:13-18) She took hold of him and kissed him and with a brazen face she said: “Today I fulfilled my vows, and I have food from my fellowship offering at home. So I came out to meet you; I looked for you and have found you! I have covered my bed with colored linens from Egypt. I have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes and cinnamon. Come, let’s drink deeply of love till morning; let’s enjoy ourselves with love" you recited the lengthy verse, "Something that's not from the Song of Solomon." You teased as you then took his lips to distract him before slipping his drunken cock inside you. This was the first time the two of you had taken this step, but you moved together as if you were always meant to be in sync like this.

"May your fountain be blessed, and may you rejoice in the wife of your youth. A loving doe, a graceful deer— may her breasts satisfy you always, may you ever be intoxicated with her love

(Proverbs 5:18-19)" You rhythmically chanted no louder than a whisper above him as you pumped from on top of him. Wolfwood seemed to relax at the scripture being recited.

"It was never the alcohol, really. It just helps." He groans from beneath you. A low giggle came from your throat, as you moved to kiss his neck.

"Really, is there something Preacher Man needs to confess?" You teased him.

"Drinking seemed to be the only way I could talk to you seriously. I've loved every moment, even if I don't always get to remember them in the morning."

"Is that so?" You kissed the side of his face, "Then let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choice fruits." You recited a Song of Songs verse as you picked up your pace, and it wasn't long before a wave of orgasm crashed over you. Nicolas pressed heated kisses to your face as he moved his legs to take a small amount of control to help you through your orgasm. You let yourself rest against him, and once your body seemed to relax, you were rolled over onto your back. Nicolas above you now.

"Your turn to confess, my love." He pressed kisses into your lips,

"Your turn to finish, Preacher." You wrapped your arms around his neck as he sheathed himself into you, "I worried t-that you wouldn't want someone like m-me. Being a man of G-God and stuff." You struggled to speak through his quick thrusts. You moaned and sighed as he pumped into you.

"God has done a lot of shitty things to me. He can let me have this one." He huffed and kissed you roughly.

"Then have as much as you want. For the feast shall always be plentiful." You spoke under his lips.

"Pretty sure that's not a verse of the bible." He giggled

"Then it should be! Feast, Nicholas." he groaned and you felt his thrusts lose their rhythm. He removed himself from you, and laid on the outer side of the bed next to you, taking you into his arms. He lit a cigarette, making sure to not get ashes on you.

"Any other confessions before we sleep?" You asked. He blew out a puff of smoke before allowing his head to lob his gaze in your direction.

"I love it when you call me Nicolas."

~End~