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#nicholas d wolfwood smut
vashs-turtleneck · 3 months
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Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) Summary: You, Vash, and Wolfwood have a bit of a wild evening together. Pairing: Vash the Stampede x f!reader x Nicholas D. Wolfwood Content: pwp, threesome, p in v sex, rough sex, voyeurism, hand job. Word count: 3.1k
NSFW BELOW, 18+ ONLY, MDNI
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Blue.
Bluer than the sky, even.
It’s all you can see as you cling tightly to the man above you, wrapping your limbs around him and pulling him into your tender embrace like you’re trying to melt into him. Those pretty eyes stare back down at you, so perfectly blue that you’d drown in them if he let you. With how adoringly they drink in the sight of you, they’re the only thing you can focus on. 
Well, that and the feeling of him stretching you out on his cock, completely flooding every one of your senses with nothing but him.
“Mayfly…” He breathes out sweetly, brokenly. “M-Mayfly… I’m not gonna– I can’t–”
“Me too… I’m g-gonna– nngh!”
“God, yes. C-Come. Come all over me, mayfly. Please. I want– I need to feel it.”
Vash holds you tighter, his fingertips deliciously digging into the meat of your thighs as the tip of his cock keeps relentlessly hitting your sweet spot like a goddamn jackhammer. His voice is dripping with agonized pleasure as he chants a quiet ‘please, please, please’ against your shoulder, feeling what must be tears pooling in your collarbone as he pistons his hips over and over. He wants to come so bad it hurts, but he needs to feel you come with him or else he knows he won’t be satisfied.
Your nails press into his toned and scarred back, clutching onto him like he’s the only thing keeping you together, leaving little marks that he hopes won’t fade right away when you let go. Your legs fight against his grip and your entire body tenses with euphoria. The rhythm of his hips carves a deep arch into your back as your cunt pulses, your velvety walls sucking him in and squeezing him so tightly that he comes so hard he thinks he might have blacked out for a moment. He brokenly cries out your name with a sob, spilling himself inside you as your body milks his throbbing cock of everything he has to give you, flooding your insides with so much cum you can feel it already start to drip down your inner thighs.
Vash has to stop himself from collapsing onto you, shifting his weight up on his forearms and trying not to crush you. You can feel him trembling, sweat dripping down his forehead and his back, your fingers delicately tracing up and down his spine. He nuzzles his face against the crook of your neck, his breaths coming heavy, ghosting his lips over your skin as he tries to come back to his senses. 
Once he feels he’s come down somewhat from his mind-shattering climax, he weakly lifts his head from your body, hazy, watery eyes meeting your gaze. God, he was crying.
“Are you okay, angel? How you feeling? You ready for more or do you need a sec?” Vash asks you breathily, his voice still shaking. Despite how blissfully fucked out he looks right now, his mind is immediately focused on you and your comfort. 
Typical Vash.
“I’m okay… Want m-more…” You mutter, realizing that your voice is no stronger than his.
He gives you a smile so soft that you swear you feel yourself die and come back to life, pressing his lips to yours so tenderly that it leaves you burning for more when he separates them as quickly as they came.
“Let’s give you more then, mayfly.”
You feel Vash slowly pull out of you with a quiet whimper and immediately feel the wetness dripping from between your legs, your thighs slick and making a mess of the tangled sheets beneath you. He swiftly switches your positions, flipping you over and holding you on top of him with his half-hard cock pressing against your abdomen and smearing its slick on your skin. His large hands grip your ass, holding your hips up and open, presenting you unabashedly to the other man in the room. Vash presses a soft kiss to your cheek before looking towards Wolfwood with a smirk that’s all too beautiful for how lewd this is.
"All yours, Wolfwood." He chimes out far too casually. 
Your eyes follow Vash’s, your gaze falling to the priest sitting in his chair next to the bed. His cock stands at attention, delicious beads of precum dripping from his tip all the way down the length of him as his own hand slowly trails up and down like he’s teasing himself. He’s covered in a pretty red hue from his cheeks all the way down to his broad chest, undoubtedly having enjoyed the show the two of you just put on, his dark eyes focused on the spot between your spread legs. 
"About damn time." Wolfwood grunts as he rises from his seat and situates himself on his knees behind you, his rough hands gripping your hips as his eyes stay fixated on the view in front of him. “Thought you two would never stop. Shook the bed so hard I thought you’d break it before I got a turn.” He teases, a subtle groan leaving him, watching as Vash's cum drips from your inviting cunt.
"Looks like needle-noggin’ did a good job of getting you all warmed up f’me, sweetheart." He grins, calloused palms massaging your hips. “You ready?”
Still dazed from your previous mind-numbing orgasm, you nod weakly, eyes fluttering as you look back at the dark-haired man. "Yeah... Ready. Want you."
"F-Fuck, sweetheart…" he hisses.
“Atta girl,” He purrs with a hungry smirk. “Keep that ass up nice and high for me, baby.”
You feel one of his hands let go of you, moving to grip his cock and pumping himself languishly from tip to base a few times as he aligns himself with your dripping entrance. He teases you, making you whine as he rubs his tip along your hot flesh, grinding against you and coating himself with a mix of yours and Vash’s juices. A low growl leaves the priest as he finally pushes inside you, splitting you apart on his scorchingly thick cock, finding little resistance as he sheaths himself completely inside your tight heat in one fluid motion.
Vash keeps his hands on your ass, gently squeezing you and steadying you as Wolfwood gets going, carefully moving your body in the other man's rhythm. Your hands instinctively grip Vash's shoulders to ground yourself as your body shudders. It's all so much, but it's so good.
“So pretty. Makes me want to keep her all for myself.” Wolfwood chuckles, greedily wringing your body of every bit of pleasure you have to give him as Vash lays back and watches, just as Nicholas did mere minutes ago.
"Mayfly..." Vash whispers to you, his voice low, a tender whisper against your throat. "You're so beautiful when you're all flushed and sweaty like that." He watches as Wolfwood grips the fat of your ass, your body shaking.
"So damn cute. God, you like her, don't you, Wolfwood?" He observes, still holding you in place, keeping your hips up for the other man. "Look how pretty she is."
“H-Hey! Don't joke like that!” The man beneath you whines, and the priest only responds by squeezing you harder, clawing the plush meat of your thighs and ass rougher, fucking you like you’re his, perfectly aware of your limits to know he won't break you, but that doesn't mean he won't rough you up a bit. He wants to leave a lasting reminder of what he did to you, after all. You can only mewl out wantonly, letting him have his way with you, pistoning his cock so deeply into you that it rips the air from your lungs every time he sinks back inside your inviting sex. 
Vash's eyes glitter with joy, brows upturned with glee. There’s nothing he wants more than your pleasure, even if he's not the one splitting you in half on his cock.
"Shit, look at you. So damn perfect. You want him? You want Wolfwood to use you, huh baby?" He coos, flesh hand gently massaging the plush of your ass. "You're doing so well, mayfly. You're being so good for us."
"V-Vash..." You whine brokenly.
But just as his name leaves your lips, you feel a harsh slap on your ass, squealing out in a mix of pain and pleasure as you look back at the man behind you.
"Blondie's not the one fucking you right now, sweetheart." Wolfwood rumbles, leaning over you so you feel his weight against your back. He grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging it back to look at him, his piercing dark eyes commanding your attention. "You'll cry out my name."
His name leaves your lips as a choked whimper, so fucked out of your mind right now that all you see and feel is the scorching, white-hot pleasure being given to you by the two men sandwiching you. “N-Nico…”
“Mayfly, you doing okay?” Vash whispers to you, his hot breath ghosting over your cheek. You don’t trust yourself to speak right now, your voice a mess of mewls and moans, so you simply nod your head. You are okay, you try to reassure him. In fact, you’re feeling the best you ever have, high on the rapturous feeling of being completely sandwiched between your lovers. 
"That's it. Always been such a fast learner." He praises teasingly. Wolfwood keeps a firm grip on your hair, pulling it harshly and pulling you back onto him.
"Don’t hurt her.” Vash says to his friend. "Make sure you give her back to me the same way you found her, got it?" His flesh hand leaves your ass to lovingly trace the contours of your face.
Wolfwood’s ruthless thrusts push you down with every fluid motion, forcing you to grind your pelvis against Vash’s cock, his shaft teasing your sensitive clit and filling your body with so much mouthwatering pleasure you think you might be drooling. You know it’s not enough friction to satisfy Vash though, so with what little grip of reality you still have, you reach a hand down and start pumping his cock, matching Wolfwood’s rhythm. Vash immediately reacts, feeling a shiver run deliciously all the way up his spine.
“O-Oh, mayfly…” the humanoid typhoon whispers hoarsely, his breath catching, looking down between your bodies and watching as your hand so lovingly glides up and down his dick. You see his eyes focus on the motion of your hand, his mouth falling agape and his brows upturning in grateful euphoria. Soft little whines leave his perfect lips, and you can see his adam's apple bob as he tries to swallow down his noises of pleasure. Yet, to your surprise, you suddenly feel his hand wrap over yours and pull your grip away from his cock, making you release your hold on him and letting his dick fall with a slap against his naval.
Confused but too distracted and dazed by the man pounding into you from behind to form any words, you mutter a barely coherent ‘w-whu–?’ to the handsome blonde. Vash sucks in a shaky breath and places an apologetic kiss to the tip of your nose. 
“Sorry, mayfly. Can’t have you doing that. Gonna come if I let you do that any longer.”
But… isn’t that the point?
Vash must see the look on your face, confusion blending in with love drunk euphoria. He chuckles hoarsely, hand caressing your cheek as his eyes go dark with lust. 
“Saving all that for when it's my turn to fuck you again, angel.” He purrs, his voice dripping with sexual promise. “Don’t want any of it going to waste.”
Vash holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling your face towards his and catching your bottom lip between his teeth before sliding his tongue in your mouth and tangling it with yours.
“That’s if you get another turn, Blondie.” Wolfwood chimes from behind you, grunting with every powerful pump of his hips, eliciting desperate little whimpers from your lips that Vash drinks in all too eagerly. “Like I said, might keep her all to myself.”
Vash parts his lips from yours, a string of your mixed saliva connecting your mouths before breaking. He licks the taste of you from his lips before he looks up at the other man pumping his precious mayfly full of cock. “You’re hilarious, Wolfwood,” he says sarcastically, to which Wolfwood smirks.
“What can I say? The man upstairs blessed me in more ways than one.” Wolfwood tugs your hair back again, bringing your face closer to his and exposing the curves of your throat as he meets your blissed out gaze. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart? You feelin’ just how blessed I am?”
Your answer is a broken sob of a moan, borderline overstimulated by all the pleasure and attention the two men are pouring into you. Wolfwood’s tongue suddenly invades your mouth and floods your senses with the taste of ash, giving him a turn at swallowing down your moans. Vash, tempted by your supple neck looking oh so vulnerable and begging for his attention, latches his mouth to the column of your throat, sucking and nibbling along it, grazing his sharp canines along your skin, teasing you, but never daring to hurt you– a stark contrast to the man fucking you into oblivion from behind.
“Fuck, squeezing me so damn tight. You gonna be a good girl and come on my cock, sweetheart?” The priest growls. 
“Hm?” Vash hums as he pulls his mouth from your neck, Wolfwood’s words getting his attention. The flesh hand leaves your face, trailing down your body to squeeze your ass again, his prosthetic now making its way to the apex of your sex.
“Oh, you can do it, mayfly. Come on Wolfwood’s cock for him. For both of us.” The fingers of Vash’s cold prosthetic make contact with your clit, circling against your sensitive bud. The initial feeling of cool metal on your hot skin makes you squeal before you’re made a whimpering mess by the two men, groaning out deeply with every breath you exhale, a beautiful crescendo of moans from the three of you filling the otherwise unassuming hotel room.
“Shit, shit, shit!” the priest hisses from behind you when he feels your body tense and pulse around his cock, your inner walls sucking him in like your body is begging for him to fill you until you’re bursting. He lets out a loud and guttural moan at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him, forcing his eyes to roll back, his grip tightening on your hair and hip. His own hips stutter and you feel his cock twitch inside you, the tip kissing your cervix as hot ropes of cum paint your insides even more white.
You yelp when you suddenly feel a sharp sensation on the side of your neck, realizing the dark-haired man balls deep in you has latched his mouth to the divot where your shoulder meets your neck, biting hard enough that he’ll undoubtedly leave a mark. You can already feel the mess of both the men’s cum and your own juices trickle from your pulsing cunt all the way down to your knees, your legs shaking. When Wolfwood releases his tight grip on your hair and unlatches his teeth from your supple skin, your upper body collapses onto Vash, who is all too happy to hold you close and cradle you in his arms, cooing soft praises into your ear as you tremble against him.
“Shh, mayfly. I’ve got you. You were so good. Such a good girl for us, baby.”
Your hips remain up and held in Wolfwood’s hands, now tenderly massaging the soft skin, unabashedly admiring the mess he’s helped make of you. “So damn good.” Wolfwood whispers out, his own voice trembling, leaning forward to press soft kisses along your spine and between your shoulder blades, the gentleness a stark contrast to how harshly he was fucking you mere seconds ago. 
Two pairs of strong hands hold you, gently maneuvering you off your knees and off of Vash, carefully laying you on your back against the soft and messy sheets. 
“Catch your breath, baby. Do you need anything?” Wolfwood breathes, peppering soft kisses all over your cheek and jaw. 
You feel hands caress you, massage you, and trace the gentle curves of your body. Both of them are still hard, Vash achingly so, but they still focus themselves on your wellbeing over the tension they each feel between their legs. Blue eyes fall to the deep bite you now have at the base of your neck, a mark that will undoubtedly take days to heal. His warm thumb traces the harsh red mark, dark brows furrowing. 
“Thought I told you to give her back the way you found her.” Vash chastises, a subtle hint of jealousy painting his voice.
“I wish I could say I was sorry, Blondie.” Wolfwood retorts, words trembling, still having barely recovered himself, yet still using what little breath he has to taunt the other man, and you can see the stern glare Vash is already giving him. 
You can’t just lay back and let your lovers fight now, can you?
Just as Vash’s mouth opens to scold the priest, any words he was about to form are interrupted with a surprised moan from both men, feeling the sudden warmth of your tender hands wrap around their cocks, liberally stroking them each from their dripping tips down to the base.
“F-Fuck! T-Take it easy, sweetheart. You’re still shaking.” Wolfwood blurts out, yet his hips are already following the delicious motion of your soft hand. 
Oh how sweet of them to be so concerned about your wellbeing, but the precious looks on their faces as they try to hold back from fucking themselves into your palms like a couple of dogs in heat is so much sweeter.
Vash’s eyes shut tightly, biting down on his bottom lip to try to stifle his moans, only to finally give in and start rutting his hips against you, letting you squeeze a hot glob of precum from the outlaw’s dick. You and Wolfwood gave him such an incredible show, how could he possibly hold back when you’re so eager to make him feel good?
“These sheets are gonna be unsalvageable.” The blonde groans, his eyes opening just enough to let you see them rolling back already. 
“S’ fine, Blondie. Cleaning fee will be worth it.”
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anyasathenaeum · 10 months
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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.
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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..."
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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)
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na-t0 · 1 year
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𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳
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Nicholas D. Wolfwood x reader (fem)
nsfw . male masturbation . multiple mentions of religious themes . minors please do not interact
"I believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth...shit, what's next?"
Despite of what others think, Nicholas D. Wolfwood has come to the conclusion that he is indeed, the perfect example to belie the thought commonly held by people that him, and all the other children of the Lord who is high in the heavens, are made in his image and likeness. He is just a man, a mere mortal, vulnerable and weak in the face of temptation, son of original sin. Trying to atone for, and amend, the errors that life has brought within his path, and from which he cannot seem to escape.
Same life that unfortunately has also placed him in the way of your so intoxicating self. As if it were an unforgivable and cruel test to endure the strength of his already cracked spirit, a test to prove how much he is capable of resisting when the sharp claws of lust slowly scratch his back when he tries to sleep and the image of your beautiful face invades his mind. He also claims being able to feel them scratching once again when, after what seems like an eternal week of waiting, he manages to spot you sitting among the 47 people that fit in the orphanage’s chapel at the time of the religious ceremony he presents on Sundays at 10 in the morning.
Nicholas talks to himself all the time. He talks about a whole bunch of different things to stay busy and distant from the loneliness that his profession entails. He also writes, on a small black notebook that shamelessly reads Holy Bible on its cover, which he keeps in the inside pocket of his suit all day. It is possible to find random thoughts scrambled between its pages, occasional unfinished sketches of the kids who visit him frequently, prayers and attempts at poetry that, despite the ease he possesses to release a speech towards an audience made up of people full of faith in the word he preaches every weekend, the simple idea that one day you might inadvertently read what lies on those yellowish paper sheets terrifies him to the point where he can feel each and every one of his nerve endings on the surface of his skin, pulsing with the same intensity as the wings of a flying hummingbird.
He writes for you, more specifically. Even though in life, there are weaknesses that sometimes, do not allow the deepest feelings of the heart to flourish freely.
"I am just an object waiting to be ashes, and it is precisely for that reason that I would like my body to burn until it is consumed as one with yours. So at the end, dust will be the only thing that remains of our spirits, mixed together, to be later carried away by the wind of this unforgiving desert we call home."
“I have reached such a degree of insanity that, not even with the help of a thousand divine healing rites, my composure will return. I have even considered exchanging the blood of as many sinners as necessary to the Devil in order to melt into the blazing but purifying fire that surely arises with the single touch of your lips, and if you allow me, to endulge in the perfect contradiction that lies between your legs. A place both sacred and infernal, a place where good and evil converge and is powerful enough to drive even the most righteous and ruthless of religionists to an infinite madness. A place that I can only imagine feels like heaven and hell at the same time, capable to burn but also soothe the wounds in the soul of a disgraceful believer, one such as myself, your humble servant.”
“And I am not ashamed to affirm in front of the cross in which the son of God was punished because of filth like me, that, your mere presence encourages me to violate every order imposed by the invisible power of my belief, all that for what he, the same guy I mentioned earlier, sacrificed himself for in the first place. He sacrificed himself for you and especially for me, and above all, for the atrocities that come with the human race to disappear from the world. Such as the kind of things that flood my mind when my gaze manages to distinguish a little glimpse of your underwear when you put on that pretty dress of yours and you take a seat in the front row. A dress I like to imagine you only use for me.”
When Sunday comes, the ceremony starts and it's your turn at the moment of communion. It all happens in a matter of minutes every single time, a fleeting contact that is difficult to remove from his system. The host is delicately held by Wolfwood's hands as he stares at you, the abyss of his obsidian orbs capturing your attention to ask for your permission. You nod and look back at him too, subtly batting your eyelashes and slowly sticking out your tongue in an inviting way, that more than innocent, seemed diabolical, as if you knew which cards to move to obtain an absolute victory. And he feels it, he feels something struck his chest. Like a pair of magnets who can't fight the silent attraction that tries to unite them. You glance at the thick fingers infront of you for an instant, and then once again, you lift your stare towards him to take the host. His breathing stopped the moment he felt the back of his fingers get in contact with the wetness of your tongue while accommodating the wafer on it, and he almost, just almost, stutters in his words, but he doesn't, it takes all of his will not to. He blinks and his hand moves away from your lips to continue with the the other presents. You turn around and go back to your place without looking back. Luckily for him, the robe that covers his body does not allow to reveal any trace of what could give away his growing hunger for you.
Reminiscing something that he himself already wrote once in his notebook.
“It’s a disgusting sight, truly. How you take the sacramental bread from the hands of a sinful bastard, how you try to be purified by the same hands that are permanently stained with the obscene thought of consuming your body, your entire being. But you don’t have an idea of how much I love it, how much I want you to be mine.”
The lecture finished at 10:57 a.m. Nicholas remembers glancing at the watch on his wrist to regain the track of time he lost when you got close to his body. Seeing that people were starting to get up, he decided to clean his instruments to leave everything in order, and at the same time, bring some peace to his mind. He didn't have long arranging his space when Wolfwood felt a sudden and intense urge to look back, and when he did, you were the first thing that he focused on, stumbling upon the surprise of your eyes already searching for his while walking to the exit, wearing the most precious smile he’s ever seen on your face. A smile just for him.
By 11:23 a.m. the chapel was completely empty and Wolfwood walked with an unbearable weight on his feet towards the confined space of the confessional, along with a box of matches in hand that he took from an old cabinet. He closed the door, took a seat and leaned his head against the wall, which protested with a slight screech, as if it knew what was going through the troubled man's mind. Of course you appeared immediately, the images of every time you two have exchanged greetings in the streets, in the market, or even at the events to raise funds for the orphanage.
First came the color of your eyes, which seemed to dominate and illuminate the darkness of the small space he was in, then your eyebrows and the expressions that characterize your words while speaking. Thirdly, your mouth, the Eden he dreams of so much, reflected in the shine that your lips acquire when you bite and wet them with saliva. Imagining how they move to the compass of your voice, if they are rounded, if you smile or if you stay quiet. Nicholas raised his right hand and gently touched his own mouth to try to calm the urgency of joining it with yours. He closed his eyes and remembered the slight meeting he had with it an hour ago. The warmth of your breath on his knuckles and the softness he touched with the pads of his mistreated fingers. How easy would it be to draw a whimper out of you, the sweetest sound he can think of. His pants began to feel more and more uncomfortable with every passing minute, the pressure exerted by the growing erection in his groin started to become unbearable. Will he be able to obtain salvation if he confesses everything, here and now?
"God...please" And just as he often does, he began to talk. "I want her more than...a-anything in this world...can't I have her either?" The hand that previously touched your lips, traveled up to his crotch and gave a first cautious squeeze, allowing himself to be carried away by the venom of the serpent that condemned us all as sinners centuries ago, which little by little contaminated his veins and blinded his sight. Now not only did he imagine the Eden in your beauty, he was about to enter that precious place, only to break the rules. "I haven't been...a g-good man, but..." His breathing began to falter, with great gulps of air, his chest rose and fell, trying to oxygenate his racing heart. "I swear I...I can treat her right." The restraint of the stiff bottoms was starting to be painful for Nicholas, so he reached for the button, hastily undoing it to reach into his underwear. The burning heat of desire greeting him. And as he could, he pulled out his member from the base without removing his pants. The cold edge of the zipper brushed against the prominent veins of his rigid sex while his hand tried to conciliate the relief he so desperately needed. He kept traveling with his mind through your neck, your chest, your waist and your navel, the unknown nudity that he longes for unfolding before him in an imaginary scenario within the four small walls of the confessional. His breathing became more and more disturbed and growls began to sprout from the depths of his being.
"I'm sorry, God...I'm so s-sorry" He started to apologize because he knows exactly what is next. He enjoys being rough with his wicked self, he is violent. Pulling his own hair with one hand while the other strokes himself harshly. He spits on the tip, and watches how saliva slowly rolls to the base. He grunts, an animalistic type of sound that reveals the wildest part of his existence, his human predatory instinct, the part that he tries to repress with calling himself a preacher of the Lord’s word. He likes to tighten the grip in his member to the point where the veins on his forehead begin to become visible and the color of his shaft changes entirely with the accelerated flow of blood. Suffocating in his own body, a prisoner of his dark desires.
"Our Father, who...a-art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is...i-in heaven." It was in that moment when he began to pray. And the drops of fluid that came out of his slit with anticipation gave his hand more access to stroke with a quicker pace. From outside the confessional, it was possible to hear the faint slippery sound of friction from skin to skin and the murmured pleas of a man sunk in perdition.
"Give us this day our daily bread, a-and forgive us our trespasses...as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temp-temptation...but deliver us from...evil."
Would God be able to truly forgive such an act?
"A-Amen."
And it's just when he finishes his pleas that he finds himself betrayed by his own mind, letting your name slip from his lips, over and over again, like a renovated prayer, but profane and corrupted. The peculiar burning sensation in the lower part of his abdomen starts to approach. He bites the collar of his white camisole and drool escapes from the sides of his mouth in the delirium of a near orgasm. Squeezing his eyes shut he imagined your breasts swaying in front of his face as you grind on top, your angelic face contorted with the ecstasy of a fictional encounter, and your core eagerly receiving each of his thrust. The sweet aroma that your sweat must have and all the possible ways you could moan his name.
"Ni..cholas, ah...Nicholas...Nic..."
The entirety of his skin crawls to the thought. And his hips begin to move with an unbridled, involuntary frenzy, consequence of the carnal instinct that species keep hidden in their bodies.
"Oh...God..please, please...ple-please." He calls uselessly for the only one who could redeem him, the only one who could accept a sin like this. Finally, he rapidly drags his hand a couple of last times and the orgasm begins to hit his senses. A last growl comes out of his chest before his teeth unconsciously loosen the fabric of the shirt to let out a deafened cry. With some last thrusts, his hips rise in a lost rhythm from the bench on which he is sitting as his seed spills violently into his right hand, staining some of the fabric of his black pants along the way.
The warm sensation of contact with his own release brings him back to himself, and he can only at this point, contemplate more clearly the mistake he has made.
“Divine forgiveness, what a bunch of shit.”
He drops the other hand that was tugging at his brunette locks in the heat of the momentum inside his pocket, pulls out a cigarette, places it in his mouth and proceeds to wipe the remains of cum on his right palm with a handkerchief, so he can pick up the matches he had brought with him, light the stick, and take a hit, trying to quell with smoke the latent nectar of lonely intimacy impregnated in the air. He takes a few moments to let the haze of the moment pass completely as he watches the mess in his lap and his now softened member.
The cigarette is half finished, he is a fast smoker.
He inhales and exhales once more, and then, there’s a subtle, almost silent, knock on the door, followed by what he recognizes is your voice coming from the rusty confession room's grate.
“F-Father Nicholas...?”
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h5llpyre · 6 months
Text
⸺ too eager to wait (18+)
nicholas d wolfwood x vash the stampede
cw public bathroom sex, like very very public like multiple people were listening in on them, trans sub bottom vash, cis dom top wolfwood, light humiliation, heavy teasing, wolfwood is a little bit mean but he means well, can be read as any vw version
“really didnt know you were into this, angel.”
“i- i’m fu- ucking not—“ vash gasps, fingers curling around the top of the door as his forearms push against it. it's not like he wants everyone in the bathroom to know they are fucking in the last stall, but there was nothing else to grasp onto as wolfwood nudges his leaking tip into his soaked folds.
“really? cause you're reeeeally wet,” wolfwood laughs and hovers on top of vash’s bent over figure as he bottoms out, the slide in suspiciously easier than usual. and vash wants to say something back but wolfwood’s tip is pressing so deep into his guts.
“breathe, breathe, sweetheart,” wolfwood coaxes in a gentler tone, reaching around to hook his middle and ring finger into vash’s parted mouth, the thick fingers that were sinking in and out of his cunt just a few minutes ago, splaying across his tongue.
and vash is honestly on the verge of passing out. plant marks flickering weakly, fingers trembling as wolfwood holds him together, keeping him upright on his length, deep in his pulsing cunt. it honestly hurts a little, but the silky, saccharine quality of wolfwood’s voice and the hot cling of his strong hips against his ass keeps his glowing eyes open.
with a deep, hissing inhale, wolfwood rears back just halfway, vash’s walls trying to suck him in before he falls into a gentle languid pace, hipd rolling with a smooth rhythm. vash’s mind goes gooey, his insides being shifted once again with the shape of wolfwood’s dick, a mould he’s come to memorize after months of traveling (fucking) with him.
vashs pants pool around his ankles, all of his buckles clanking loudly against the tiled floor as his entire body seems to rock with the motion of wolfwood’s pace. he grips the door tighter, his gloved leather fingers slipping on the smooth plastic of the staining stall door. a loud clanking of the door against the metal lock echoing into the ears of the poor men who just needed to take a piss, but instead get to listen in on two outlaws feverishly fucking after wandering hands under their abandoned saloon table became too much.
“wolfwoo.. they- they can he- hear—!” vash blabbers quietly around wolfwood’s fingers, drooling down the front of his red coat
“i know,” wolfwood huffs and nuzzles against the back of vash’s head, sliding his hand down to firmly settle around vash’s throat, causing his lips to stay parted to suck in strained breaths and intentionally giving him no way to hide his sounds from ears from outside the stall. wolfwood feels vash’s cunt clench rhythmically around his cock at his words, candy blue eyes rolling back into his pretty head as he gives into the embarrassment and humiliation of fucking in a public bathroom.
“just take it, don’t think about anything else— yeah… just like that, angel.” wolfwood coos warmly before tucking a hand around his hip and swinging them to the brick wall to the right. and thank god they chose the furthest stall (they originally chose it to be discrete but look how that turned out.)
wolfwood pushed vash against the bricks, before really fucking him. originally, he was scared of pushing him up on the door in fear of possibly shoving if off its metal hinges and creating a bigger scene than they already had, but here on this nice, stable brick wall, wolfwood could fuck him like he really meant it.
with a low snarl, wolfwood immediately resumes bullying that sweet spot in vash’s sopping cunt, except harder and faster. skin slapping sounds echoing off the bathroom walls as he fucks him, ignoring the men listening in on them. vash falls apart, sandwiched in between the hard bricks and a warm chest, he lets out shuddering gasps, wolfwood fucking impossibly deep. the wall helped keep him still, unable to move or shift away from his fast, mean strokes.
“this is what you needed?” wolfwood presses his lips against vash’s swinging golden earring, hips canting up into his tight heat. vash only mewls, gloves scraping against the bricks as he tries to hold on, but its useless.
“couldn’t even wait til we got back to the hotel huh— i could tell you needed it out there,” wolfwood rasps, reminding vash of how he was all over him, his voice piercing straight through the hazy lust enveloping vash’s numb head causing him to nod weakly.
“let me take care of ya, let me take care of it,” and vash doesn’t even realize wolfwood’s hand sneaking down until the insistent circle of thick fingers blooming pleasure over his engorged clit. he seizes up, thighs pressing together, knees knocking as wolfwood quickly presses closer, keeping him from collapsing as his quick fingers drive him closer to the edge.
“t-too muh- too much! mmhh- wolfwood, please..!” vash stammers, breath getting caught in his lungs with each thrust.
“shhh, i know, angel. you’re alright…” wolfwood absentmindedly hushes into ear, his own pleasure rapidly building. he doesn’t stop, leading vash straight into that fuzzy headspace as his fingers rub tighter circles.
“nnnh- nick—!” vash gasps, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure shoots into his gut, plant marks flicker and glow with his orgasm, legs quivering as his cunt clenches down on wolfwood’s dick.
the squeezing of his velvety walls is enough to force wolfwood over the edge. he strains, moaning through his bitten lip as he surges forward and cums straight into his awaiting plant womb, forcing vash up the wall. vash clings helplessly to the wall, feet dangling despite being taller than the dark haired man.
panting hotly, wolfwood gently rubs vash’s clit, helping him through his orgasm. he huffs, hooked nose gently nudging against his slack jaw as he kisses his nape. he slowly helps him back down to the ground, limp legs stabling themselves on the tiled floor. wolfwood fiddles with his pants, gingerly tucking himself away as his panting subsides.
vash has his forehead pressed into his elbow, still against the wall, biting his lip out of embarrassment, still unmoving.
“shit, we gotta go before we get kicked out.” wolfwood says, his mind clearing and now realizing just how loud and obvious they were. vash doesn't respond. wolfwood reaches down in the cramped stall and helps vash weakly toe into his pants, smiling lightly at the sight of seeing his cum dripping out. he straightens his wrinklycoat, letting it fall back into place before he gently pats his hip with a warm hand.
“we should’ve waited til we got back,” vash breathes, his leather hand lifting up to rub across his face but stops instead, covering his embarrassed face.
“we? you were the one who pulled me into here,” wolfwood laughs, rightfully accusing him. it wasn’t like he didn't enjoy giving him what he wanted while also embarrassing him, but it never hurt to tease.
vash frowns, “you were the one who kept on messing with me out there!” he whisper-shouts, his red face overriding any attempts at trying to look annoyed.
wolfwood takes his hand, “shhh,” he stifles another laugh in return of lightly hushing him. wolfwood unlatches the stall door before he could spout more accusing bullshit. walking hand in hand, vash keeps his head down, ignoring the way they received judging looks from people outside the bathroom.
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christalcake · 7 months
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✧Pairing✧: Wolfwood x f!Reader
✧Content✧: PWP - porn without plot, shower sex, Wolfwood worshipping your body, Wolfwood's canines <3, he can eat pussy however he wants!
✧W/C✧: 211 Words
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The water was running hot, steam fogging everything. He's pulling your hair back and his canines brushing against your skin, almost piercing it.
He finds the spot that has you trembling and moaning and suckling forcefully on it. His hips rut against your cunt, his hands currently occupied with groping you everywhere. He makes sure that his fingertips dig into your plump flesh, marking your body with bruises.
His mouth goes further down, your clavicle, and sternum he gives attention to your delicious breasts. He doesn't ignore your perk nipples either, taking his time to give each of them the right attention.
He finally drops to his knee, admiring and groping your lovely hips. He sways them, while kissing your stomach gently. He'll be worshipping someone completely different tonight.
He grabs one of your thighs pinning it against the shower wall, while the other finds itself on his shoulder. Your wet cunt is on full display, animalistic urges rushing through his body. He blows on your pussy lips and watches as it clenches around nothing.
He feels your fingers looping through his locks and the last straw is when he feels you yanking harshly, being so impatient. That gives him the last push to lean in and devour your wet cunt.
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bendycxmet · 12 days
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Pent-Up—Nicholas D. Wolfwood
Summary: Wolfwood has been waiting for you all day. Plus, he's horny.
Pairing: gn!reader x Wolfwood
Content: smut (18+ MDNI), oral (reader receiving), maybe a lil nasty if you count not showering immediately when you get home, dry humping, desperation, wolfwood is horny and a lil dirty pervert, i tried to make this as gender neutral as possible
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with a heavy sigh, you shoulder your way into your and Wolfwood's apartment. the door shuts noisily behind you as you collapse your whole weight against it, alerting your boyfriend to your late arrival from work. wherever he is.
you groan, upset he's nowhere to be seen. you really needed a hug from him. immediately.
you throw your bag onto the ground, relieving yourself of some of the heavy burden that's been on your shoulders since leaving your workplace. toeing off your shoes, you make your way into the kitchen to look for a much needed snack.
"wolfwood??" no response.
"wolfie~?" you start to tease, knowing he despises but secretly loves your nicknames for him.
"...woowoo?" you try one last time. that's definitely gonna get him to you.
closing the fridge, you peek around to the hallway, finally noting the doors are all closed. is he not home?
you're quickly proven wrong, the door to your shared bedroom flying open, steam flowing to the ceiling from the bathroom off to the side. Wolfwood stands in the doorway, a surprised look on his face.
"wolfwood! i knew that last one would get you. sorry i got home so late. busy day yanno. did you just take a shower? a bit late isn't it?" you remark to him, turning your eyes back to the kitchen, navigating your snack options.
"how-" he clears his throat. "how was your day darling?" he breathily asks.
you look towards him, eyebrow raised. you take in his appearance, from his heaving chest, to his hand gripping the doorframe, and finally to his boxers. he's only in his boxers, a tent evident in the front.
"uh, it's not that important. it's whatever. are you ok?"
he growls at you, taking steps towards where you stand in the kitchen, grabbing at your hands.
"I've been alone all day, missing my sweetheart, and the first conversation we have, they won't even tell me about their day? the day that's kept them so busy... away from me?"
you gulp at the gravelly tone he's speaking with.
"Wolfie... what's gotten into you?"
"oh honey, a guy has needs. and today, i was feeling a little... abandoned. with my issue down there." he moves your hand to cup him, gasping when you feel how hard he is. he's been pent up for hours.
he moans, squeezing his eyes as he pushes your hand away. "I've missed you too much." he sinks to his knees, hands wrapping around your hips to keep you in place.
"wolf-" your knees buckle slightly when he noses your crotch. "wolfwood! wait! i haven't had the chance to shower! I'm all sweaty and gross." you whine.
his chuckle vibrates into your pelvis.
"when I asked you about your day, i want to know about all of it." you shudder at his implications, hand shooting out to grip the counter as he grabs your bottoms, pushing down both your underwear and pants.
your other hand knots itself into his dark waves when you feel his hot breath hit you. a deep groan rumbles through him.
"yeah you better hold on tight baby. I've been waiting for this all day. not even a hot shower could clear my head of you."
with that, he dives in, desperately sucking in a mouthful of you. you cry out, your fingers tightening in his hair. he puts his tongue to work, licking you vigorously.
you pry your eyes open, haze settling over you as pleasure courses through every nerve ending. you wanted to see what was down below you, rarely seeing wolfwood on his knees for you.
maybe you could die happy in that moment, knowing wolfwood would always worship you like this.
a long lick up your most intimate area causes you to hiss, your body stepping backwards to get away from the overwhelming sensation. wolfwood doesn't like that.
he pulls away, an angry downturn in his eyebrows. he wraps his large hands further around you waist and pushes you against the fridge. now there was no space left for you to shy away from his affections. his hand snaps against your backside, causing you to yelp.
"stay." he demands, a finality layering his command.
wolfwood returns to you with newfound determination. perhaps as punishment for keeping him waiting so long today. his hands comes backto your backside, squeezing, humming his appreciation of the nectar that flows from between your legs. you whimper, feeling your lower stomach beginning to burn, signaling the end. he brings his hips closer to your leg. you feel the wetness of his pants, the twitching of his cock. so he was getting off to this. what a pervert.
you give him some relief, pushing your leg harshly against his cock. he moans his thanks into you, hips moving against you.
"baby, i won't last much longer," you manage to get out between stuttering breaths, his tongue making it hard to concentrate on the sentences formulating in your head.
he hums, knowing exactly what'll get you to your peak. his hands move to play with you, stroking you gently, the opposite of how his tongue was treating you. your hips begin to buck, breath hitching as the coil in your stomach tightens.
"wolfwood-!"
his lips suddenly reach your most sensitive spot, lips wrapping and sucking harshly around the area. you moan loudly into the kitchen, body rigid as your orgasm courses through you. the fog in your brain clears just enough for you to catch the hitch in wolfwoods panting, hips pressing roughly into your leg. your knees shake, threatening to take you to the ground.
wolfwood of course would never let that happen. he grabs you, pulling you down to his level, letting you catch your breath against his shoulder. he pets your hair, kissing the side of your face.
"so rough day huh?"
"you have no idea." you reach your hand down to graze your fingers against the incredibly wet spot on his boxers. "looks like I wasnt the only one having it rough."
he laughs roughly, pulling you up until you're standing.
"let's just call it a tie. shower?"
"never without you~" you peck his cheek, pulling him towards the bathroom.
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masterlist
divider by saradika
a/n: look i just remembered someone talking about their fav eating them out pre shower and I immediately thought of wolfwood. that man can get down and dirty. also this is written so late at night for me so forgive me for any errors. i need to go to bed
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awkwardchick87 · 8 months
Text
I could not find my original version of this, so I am reposting it
Camboy Wolfwood
w/c - 537
Warnings - male masturbation, anal, toys.
Part of @enchantedforest-network
Dividers lovingly supplied by @benkeibear
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Tigething his fist around his length, he swiped his thumb across the tip of his weeping cock. A small chuckle echoed through the room as he heard the constant *ding* of his chat, a few donations coming in. One particularly large donation with a message attached, asking him to use one of the toys on himself. He glanced back, the shelf behind him held his favourites “Alright my little sinners, which one do you want?”
The sound of his chat picking up, the majority asking him to use the pretty dark green dildo that happened to be a fan favourite. Nothing too big, but his loyal followers, who had seen him use it before, knew he wouldn’t last long with it nestled in his ass.
Getting up from his chair, he shoved his grey sweats down the rest of the way, stepping out of them and over to the shelf, giving everyone a perfect view of his bobbing cock and his ass as he turned around. Reaching the shelf, he ran his fingers down the toy, grabbing it off the shelf with a bottle of lube. He chuckled darkly as he walked back to the bed, adjusting his camera and leaning back on the bed, his knees bent and his legs on either side of the camera.
The constant chime ringing through the room as he tipped the bottle of lube over and poured a generous amount on the tip of the toy caused him to smirk, “You guys really wanna see me fuck myself with this? Alright, you’ll get what you want, sinners” He gasped, bringing the tip down to his asshole and probing lightly, pushing just the tip in. He gasped, his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip. His eyes fluttered shut as he slowly worked the toy into himself, his hips involuntarily rocking back and forth, helping ease it in further.
A low growl vibrated in his chest when the base of the toy met his ass, “Fuuuck yes.” he groaned. His eyes lidded as he pulled the toy out just a little, only to push it back into his hole. The smooth toy brushing against his prostate had his eyes rolling abc in his head. The donations poured in, but he was too lost in the feeling, his orgasm approaching quickly.
Leaning back against the headboard, his other hand gripped the base of his cock, as he hissed through his teeth. “Shit” he gasped, pumping his fist. His cock throbbed, the tip red and leaking.
“Fuck, so close.” he looked towards the camera, “You want me to go faster?” He stroked his cock a little faster, moving the toy in and out of his ass. His eyes shut as his orgasm shot through him. His cum coating his fist and dribbling down his balls, a little getting on the base of the toy he had shoved as deep as possible. His thighs twitching as his hand slowed on his cock. “Hah… shit.. “ he breathed a little heavier, “Hope y'all enjoyed that” he winked at the camera.
His breath hitched as he pulled the toy from his ass, leaning forward, “See you all in a few days, sinners” as he cut the stream.
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tomatoswup · 1 year
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bro my eyes burn i feel like i have a headache behind them😭😭,,, i’ll prob write my lil fic about reader gettin railed by wolfwood in a confessional tomorrow at some point 🙏 i WAS ACTIN UP IM SORRY YALL-
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anime-love31 · 7 months
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Nicholas D Wolfwood/Pregnant fem reader!
Short little sexy drabble.. wolfwood likes the titties..
————-
Nicholas had you in his lap, one hand tangled into your hair, and his other on your hip. He was keeping you cockwarming him, as he leaned forward, and his lips met one of your breasts, his tongue trailed down to your nipple. Nic began to suck at your swelled breast, a sweet moan falling out of his lips against your skin as the slightly sweet milk hit his tongue. He moved his hand down from your hair, trailing his fingers across your collar bone, and down to your free breast, he gave it a squeeze. Nic moaned deeply as the milk tan between his fingers, and it caused him to buck his hips up into you. You moaned and closed your eyes, as his tongue moved to where his hand just squeezed. His lips found the other nipple, and his tongue lapped at the milk that was dripping out, his hand on your hip gave a tight squeeze as he bucked his hips up into yours. He spoke huskily “oh fuck darlin.. if I can get this sweet milk all the time.. I will keep you with my baby”. You arched your back as he spoke, making your tit press into his face, and he took the opportunity to go back and forth between them, he was rocking his hips steadily as he tasted the treat. You had tangled a hand into his hair, and one slid down his back as he flipped you onto your back. Nic made a low groan, as he slid back in, setting a pace. “Ah shit~ mommy” Nic made a low moan, his hands gripped your hips tight.
All the commotion made the baby move around, which caused Nic to rub a hand over your belly, giving the little one some movement with his fingers over your belly. Nic smiled as he looked over you and the belly, that was growing his little heathen. Nic leaned down, and gave you a deep kiss, his cross necklace fell down into your reach, and you took it in your lips once he broke the kiss. You nibbled on the steel cross, and Nicholas made an ungodly moan, smirking. “Ah shit~ you like my cross princess? Fuck~” Nic was panting as he thrusted ruthlessly. Before long, he had you crying out his name, and cumming for him. He groaned, arching his back, as he cursed a few times, and came.
A bit later he was helping you make dinner, and he stepped outside to get a smoke, you had finished playing the food when he came back in. He pulled you into his lap at the table, pressing your butt to his hips, he smirked and spoke. “Baby girl.. fuck.. don’t press your ass like that to me.. or I will.. fuck.. you right here.. on this table”. You gave a teasing wiggle, and made him groan lowly. He slid the plate down the table, and pulled down your shorts. “What.. did I tell you.. you damn brat..” Nic spoke lowly, as he pushed down his sweats, pushing himself into you, he held you up on your tippy toes as he bent you over and pinned your hands down. Nic gave rough thrusts as he held your belly in support, lifting the baby weight for a moment, making you sigh in relief. Nic groaned, pulling your hips tight against his, as he got deep as he could, he chuckled. “Ya know baby.. it’s not fair this tight pussy makes me cum like a virgin..” his words made you blush and squeal. Nic flipped you onto your back, wrapping your legs around his hips, before he leaned down, his lips trailed your chest after he lifted your shirt, he latched onto your breast again, he loved this. And he would keep you like this for as long as he could.. this was his treat after all.
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angelltheninth · 1 year
Note
Could we get👉👈 Some vash and Nicholas nsfw headcanons 👉👈
Have I mentioned how much I love Trigun? Well I'm telling you now.
Pairing: Vash the Stampede, Nicholas D. Wolfwood x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, praise kink, cunnilingus, teasing, overstimulation, making out, clit stimulation, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, touch-starved Vash and Nicholas
A/N: I honestly didn't expect to love the new Trigun anime as much as I do but damn it won my heart.
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VASH
A jokester even when he has sex, he rarely loses his cheerful attitude
He is very soft with you, almost too soft and needs to be told when you want him to go harder
If you don't he will keep slowly edging you towards your orgasm
Really enjoys making your pussy all sensitive from his dick while he slowly pushes in and even more slowly pulls out
Changes from his human hand to his prosthetic one, hot and cold, on your clit
His favorite position is you sitting on his dick, rolling your hips into him, meeting him in the middle with your thrusts
Edges himself too, if you don't come he won't either so you can bet that when he does it will be a flood of cum on his abs
He likes you licking it off him, he's ticklish, but also just likes seeing you go down on him, you need to lick it off his balls too
Hair-pulling is always on the table, a little pain doesn't bother him when he's between your legs, licking his tongue inside of your pussy, cleaning his cum off you like you did for him
Doesn't dirty talk a whole lot, his words are mostly just praise and affection for you, but the he is also the one who has the bigger praise kink from the two of you
NICHOLAS
Its pretty often that his hand finds its way to your thigh while you're driving or out drinking
He loves getting you to the edge and then taking away your pleasure before you can come around his fingers
They're so wet, he's sucking them in his mouth and then using that same hand to stroke his cock to full hardness
Wants you to see how ready he is for your pussy, but is it ready for him
Making love bites is important to him, its both pride and possessiveness
There's little that he won't try for you, he's quite an adventurous man as well and likes taking risks, a little handsy under the table, a little quicky in an alleyway, keeping your mouth shut with his cock while he negotiates a deal or a mission
Pushes your legs apart to make room for himself, you can pull him closer, don't be shy, if you want his cock its there for the taking
Never pulls out of you, its creampies or nothing for him
If its a quicky that you're going for them you will have his cum in your pussy until you get home and change, so you better make sure to squeeze that pretty hole on his cock and fingers so he can push as much of it in as he can
Kids are on the table some day, he wants a really big family so its best to practice for making them right?
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wreckmetoji · 1 year
Text
Close to Heaven 
A fic in which Vash finally gets what he’s been yearning for and then some.
↳ Vash the Stampede/Reader
↳ Nicholas D. Wolfwood/Reader
content warning. gender-neutral pronouns, afab reader, mild overstimulation, unprotected sex, profanity, alien anatomy, whatever the plant equivalent of a creampie is, shameless smut, fluff, slight angst, wolfwood tops vash and vash tops you, everyone is winning
I recommend reading Wanna Be Yours for context 7.2k words
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Life was unforgiving, there was no such thing as being dealt a good hand. At least, not unless it was at the expense of another person. Vash knew this better than anyone, but long ago had he accepted he wasn't here to have a good life. He was here to fix what was broken, help the people that needed it, and while that didn't always go as planned, he always tried his best.
You just pick yourself and dust yourself off, that's what I admire about you the most, Vash. Even eight months later, Vash could still hear your voice in the back of his head when he went on with his daily life. He'd hear you chide him while he poorly patched himself up in alleyways, he'd hear you tell him to eat more when he denied himself of decent meals, or yell at him to get up and keep going when he fell. It wasn't easy, of course it wasn't, making that decision to leave. He wanted you to have the best life he couldn't give you, and if you managed to find that happiness, then he was more than willing to cut his losses and hope that one day he would run into you, see you flourishing and happy and alive. So, he continued, hopping from one town to the other, helping when and where he could. Vash heaved a sigh, pushing his way through the doors of the tavern he was staying in. Today had been a bust, nearly managing to get roped into an encounter with July Military Police, he was completely unable to secure himself a vehicle or mode of transportation out of the city. He was running low on money, he would really only feasibly be able to stay at this inn a couple more days before he would need to start running small jobs around the city. That would surely be risky in itself, knowing that if he were to be exposed to the general public for longer than a couple of hours, someone was bound to try and turn him in. He'd leave tomorrow, even if it was by foot.  Shuffling over to the bar, he plopped down in one of the tall stools, waving at the barkeeper he had come to enjoy chatting with over the last few days. She was friendly, older, definitely making more of her money off of regulars and locals than tips and travelers. She had mentioned it was refreshing to see a new face that wasn't sour. "Hey Nadina," Vash greeted as she sauntered over, glass and cloth in hand, "Things been busy today?"  This earned him a playful scoff, to which he chuckled at, knowing the two occupied tables covered in cards and bottle caps were enough of a tell. "If it was busy, I wouldn't have to work here every day," She quipped, pouring a pint for Vash without him even asking, "Did have an interesting fella come in today, though." Smiling, Vash accepted the drink from her, already pulling out a couple of bills from his pocket to place on the counter in front of her. He lifted the glass to his lips, humming inquisitively to her previous statement. "Yeah," She continued, giving him an unimpressed up and down, "Said he was looking for you." Ah. Maybe he would have to leave a bit earlier than expected, if the Military Police were already this hot on his tail he was bound to be cornered in his rented room. That would get messy, and he wouldn't want poor Nadina to fork up a bunch of nonexistent money for property damages he was inadvertently the cause of. "Did... They say why they were looking for me?" He dared question, giving her a sheepish smile.  "No, just mentioned you by name, described you. Didn't even introduce himself, but I'm sure you could spot him in a crowd," She mused, shining up some spare glasses behind the counter, "Had this massive cross he was carrying around. Must've thought himself a priest or something. Wouldn't be able to tell by lookin' at him though, sketchy lookin' bastard." Suddenly, his smile was gone. Vash swallowed, eyes wide in disbelief as he stared at Nadina. She caught this, her hands pausing their ministrations as they exchanged stares.  Vash broke the silence first, his voice breathy and barely above a whisper. "Did he have anyone with him?" Nadina didn't answer, not at first, obviously too caught up in his immediate reaction. After he cleared his throat, taking another long sip of his beer, she pursed her lips and quirked a brow. "No, he didn't have anyone with him," She crossed her arms, leaning against the back counter, "You know him then?" With a nod, he threw back the rest of his beer, placing it back on the counter with a thunk. He decidedly left out all and every detail of who that stranger was or how he knew him, mind reeling as to what he was doing around here looking for Vash. His head spun, and it definitely wasn't from the less than seven percent beer Nadina had so graciously poured for him. "Thanks for the drink Nadina, think I'm gonna hit the sack early though." He didn't give her a chance to interject, taking out an extra bill from his pocket and slapping it down on the counter. A tip, but also hopefully buying her silence. She nodded, taking the pile of bills and pocketing them in her half apron as Vash gave another friendly wave, crossing the pub floor and heading up the old metal staircase.  Fuck. Wolfwood was here, and he was looking for him, but most importantly, he didn't have you. Did he leave you behind? Were you hurt? Did he lose you? It had been at least eight months, a lot can happen in that amount of time. Maybe the two of you split up, and he was worrying his head about nothing at all. Still, he couldn't shake the bad feeling he had. Part of him wanted to find Wolfwood, ask what happened, if you were safe, but the other part of him didn't know if he wanted that answer. Seeing him would only serve as a reminder of what he had to let go anyways.  Unlocking his room, bumping his metal arm into the heavy material to force it open– perks of renting one of the cheapest rooms in town– Vash entered the small space, leaving it opened a crack. He wasn't going to be staying long, and he didn't have much to gather up. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could avoid the police and secure a ticket for the last bus out of here. It wasn't too late, the sun now just peaking over the dunes in the distance.  Vash shoved his sleepwear in his bag, yanking the cords shut and swinging it over his shoulder. He'd cut his losses on paying for the room tonight, and besides, if things went sideways he could always sneak his way back in without the stress of trespassing.  He had managed to sneak past the bar without Nadina noticing him, or maybe she did and just decided not to say anything. She was a perceptive woman, nothing slipped past her, so maybe Vash was foolish for thinking he could. He pushed his way through the doors, setting a brisk pace that didn't look too suspicious as to garner unwanted attention, adjusting the straps of the bag on his shoulder as he stepped through the weighted double doors of the shoddy bus station. The clerk was in the middle of cashing out as Vash ran up to the till, putting down a little more money than necessary just to secure his ticket in case the gentleman was in a poor mood.  Being eyed up and down never got easier. It was always fifty fifty on whether he had to run if they recognized him, or if they just thought he was some weirdo. "A ticket– please! A ticket please. Are there any seats on the last bus?" He was sure the desperation was even more suspicious, but he couldn't care. Not right now, at least. "It doesn't matter where it's going." The man grunted in response, taking the money– all the money– that had been placed on the counter in front of him. He scribbled something down on his receipt paper, tearing it off and clipping it to the bus ticket he then handed over. Vash smiled gratefully, brows upturned, before turning on his heel and speed walking out the door. People were lined up in front of the doors, already boarding. At least he wasn't going to waste any time. He sucked in a deep breath, stepping forward when the line moved up, his eyes scanning the crowds in the streets to make sure he wasn't picked out. And then he saw an apparition. And apparition, or an angel. Off to the side, two or three buildings down, back facing him but he could recognize it anywhere. He could point it out with no doubts, the presence you radiated was something he still constantly saw in his dreams. He had spent so many nights laying next to you, how could he forget about all of that in a measly eight-or-so months? His breath was caught in his throat, lungs feeling tight and his eyes stung. Suddenly everything hurt, his heart, his eyes, his muscles, he couldn't move. You were talking to an older man, his brows furrowed as he looked up and around. He pointed his finger towards Vash, and everything moved so slow. You turned, eyes wide, and he could see the tears welling up from where he was standing. You were beautiful, so so beautiful, hair a bit longer than he had remembered, new clothes he hadn't ever seen before, but... You were the same. The same lips he had traced with his thumb, the same cheeks he had squished in his hands, the same eyes he could stare into for hours, just watching every sparkle and light flare every time you talked about nothing in particular. Then your mouth moved. He couldn't hear it, but he could see it plain as day. Vash? He watched you, watched as you took one slow step forward, then another, then another, steps slowly increasing in pace until you were running full sprint towards him. He was now stood in front of the open doors of the bus, ticket gripped so tightly in his still–flesh hand that it was barely legible. He didn't get a chance, didn't get a chance to step onto the bus, didn't get a chance to say anything to you, didn't get a chance to pull away or run like he thought he wanted to. Not before you were hurling yourself into him, arms wrapped so tightly around him he thought you were trying to crush every bone in his body. The impact made him huff through parted lips, cerulean eyes wide and glossy behind tinted glasses. You said something, something he couldn't hear with how hard you had shoved your face into the fabric of his jacket. The bus driver called out, catching his attention. He said something along the lines of are you getting on, and Vash didn't even register the fact he was shaking his head no. All he registered were the bus doors closing, and his shaky hands coming around and resting on your back. "You're so stupid!" You shouted, sobbing into his shirt. Your shoulders shook, your body trembled, and he could feel the wet of your tears seeping through the fabric. "You're so stupid and I'll never forgive you!" There were so many things he wanted to say in response.  I missed you so much. Every day without you felt too long. You're my everything. None of it came out, he tried. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a pathetic, choked out cry of your name. You looked up at him, and he watched as his own tears cascading down his face landed on your cheeks. His fingers fisted the back of your shirt, his arms starting to quiver, his glasses fogging up. Your hands reached up, pushing his glasses up into his hair, then sliding back down to rest on his cheeks. He leaned down, pressing his forehead up against yours as you whispered, "I never stopped looking for you." Vash kissed you, now for the second time, but instead of grief and distress and sorrow, there was relief. Comfort. Solace. He kissed you, and this time you kissed him back. You pushed your soft, beautiful lips up into his, finally letting go of all the heartache you had evidently been carrying with you for the eight months since he had left you. He pulled back, only for a second to look into your eyes, before he kissed you again, and again, and again. He kissed you breathless, his hands coming up to cup your face, mimicking how you were holding him, only pulling back far enough so he could see you. You still shared your breaths, shared the heat radiating off of each others' faces, shared wet tear stained cheeks. You were even more breathtaking than he remembered, the way your wet eyes shone in the setting sun, how your lashes clumped together, your sentimental smile enough to make him swoon.  "You two are making a scene," Vash heard from behind him, lips parting as he snapped away from you. Wolfwood stood with a stern look, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he stared at Vash over his glasses, "July police are in town right? Maybe not a good idea." To say he was confused would be an understatement, eyes flickering over to you when you muttered a meek apology, an embarrassed smile on your lips and red ears. Vash opened his mouth to speak, apologize, his heart threatening to break all over again until Wolfwood shrugged, adjusting the cross slung over his shoulder and rolling his eyes. "Just save it for later. Good to see you Spikey," He nodded, walking towards the tavern Vash was staying at, "You got a room, right? Let's go, I could use a drink. Walked through the entire town all damn day." Vash furrowed his brows, mouth opening to speak, before he felt you grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers between his. He looked down at you, expression somewhere between confusion and distress, but you smiled and shook your head, giving him a small tug as you pulled him along behind Wolfwood. "I'll explain. It's okay." He complied, following wordlessly until the three of you had entered through the tavern doors. Nadina looked in his direction, her eyes widening slightly before smiling. "Welcome back," She greeted, holding up three fingers inquisitively. The three of you nodded in unison. "Comin' up." The three of you sat, mostly in silence until Nadina came over with the drinks. Vash didn't miss the way she eyed up Wolfwood, and then yourself, especially with how tight you were holding Vash's still flesh hand. Once she had gone back to the bar, starting casual conversation with other patrons, did you begin talking.  "I don't want you to feel like I'm deceiving you," You began, eyes everywhere but on him, "I'm... We're still a thing." You gestured between yourself and Wolfwood with a finger, earning a curt nod from the priest as he slugged back his drink. He felt his heart ache again, something he hadn't felt in a while. He smiled, disingenuous and sad. He should have known better, Nadina had told him it was Wolfwood looking for him after all. The second he saw you, he should have known Wolfwood would have been in tow. He should have gotten on that bus, he shouldn't have froze the second he saw you. "But," You continued, "The night everything... The night you left, I told Nick about what happened. I told him you kissed me, I told him you left, and..." Your tiny voice tapered off, and he could see you fighting back tears. He wanted to reach up, wanted to cup your cheek and brush the cool metal of his lost-technology hand under your eye to catch the wet before it trailed down your cheek. He clenched his fist, forcing back the urge, glancing over at Wolfwood who really only seemed to be half interested in the conversation. You sighed, calling his attention back to you. "I told him that I care about you Vash. So much, and... He was okay with that." Vash furrowed his brows, lips parted in visible confusion. You took a deep breath, clearing your throat a bit. "I failed to realize that I had feelings for you too, but I felt bad already being committed to... this," Once again gesturing between Wolfwood and yourself, "We talked about it. Talked about having you join us, or at least try things out and see how they go." You held your palm out flat, pointing towards Wolfwood as he slowly nodded. "So– you– you aren't mad at me then?" Vash asked towards Wolfwood. The tanned man scoffed, leaning forwards on the table as he stared at Vash. "You aren't seeming to get it, so I'll spell it out for you Blondie," Wolfwood tapped his index finger on the table, "Us. All three of us. Relationship, or whatever the fuck you wanna consider it." It took a moment for Vash to register what you both were saying, brows furrowing again as he glanced back at you, then Wolfwood again, earning a nonchalant shrug as he grabbed at the glass sitting in front of you, tipping it back and drinking half the contents. You didn't seem to notice, or you did and simply didn't care, your thumb rubbing busy circles into the back of his partially gloved hand.  "So," Vash cleared his throat, scooting a bit closer to you in his seat, "You... Both of you... want...?" "You're both easy on the eyes, 'n I don't mind sharing," Wolfwood cut in unabashedly, both yours and Vash's cheeks heating in surprise at his boldness. "Both my type too, lucky me." He sparked up a cigarette, hanging his head over the back of his chair as he blew smoke up and away from the conversation being had. Vash was quiet, taking in all the information and emotion, the relief and the anxiety, as he looked back and forth between you and Wolfwood.  "It's okay if that's not something you want, Vash," You smiled, understanding and sweet, "I can reimburse you for the bus ticket, and you can leave first thing–" "No!" He took his hand from your grasp, holding them both up to stop you from speaking. "No, I– of course, of course I want this but, I mean... Are you two sure?" Wolfwood and you chuckled in unison, your hand coming down to settle on his bouncing knee. He remembered when you used to do that, when you would be in a pub or a diner and a bounty hunter would walk in, how you would place your hand over his restless knee or hold his arm, and suddenly any anxiety he had about the situation dissipated into thin air. He smiled, laughing a small bittersweet laugh, and finally picking up his drink. Vash would let himself be selfish, he would let himself have you, have Wolfwood, even if something could go horribly wrong tomorrow, or the next day, he would enjoy you now.  "Okay. Yeah, okay!" His agreeance called for a celebration, your hand going to reach for your now empty glass of beer, slapping Wolfwoods arm in faux outrage. You laughed, and Wolfwood waved your hand away, insisting that he would buy you another one. You argued, bickering with him in good fun about how you have no money, I'm the one paying, and Vash laughed. A hearty, genuine, full laugh that used his entire diaphragm. It turned heads, and the smile that reached his eyes made you melt. The argument in front of him dissipated, your quick hands grabbing the empty on the glasses and heading over to the bar. Vash watched you leave, the smile never leaving his eyes as his heart swelled inside his chest. It almost felt like too much, almost felt overwhelming, seeing you so easily chatter with Nadina as she prepared more drinks for the three of you. He turned his head, giving Wolfwood such a soft expression he swore he could see his sun–kissed neck and ears go red. The night carried on, more drinks and more laughs and more playful bickering, the occasional hand on your knee, or his thigh, or feeling Wolfwood bump his leg with his own. The three of you had managed to stay up until closing, getting ushered upstairs by Nadina to the room Vash had rented. All three of you had more than enough to drink, considering at some point every single person had tripped going up. Vash shoulder checked his door after inserting the key, chucking his bag down beside the door. The bed was small, probably much too small for three people comfortably since it could barely be considered a full. A heavy thunk gathered his attention long enough to see Wolfwood resting The Punisher up against the wall in front of the foot of the bed. You giggled, and he smiled, watching you lay back onto the bed. Vash closed the door, shucking his coat, glasses, and holster off and tossing them over the desk in the corner, before flopping down on his stomach next to you. His metal arm laid over your torso, mechanical thumb running gentle circles into your sides. It was sweet, it was how things should have gone before, maybe this is just setting things right– "Move over," Wolfwood complained, and when Vash looked up he could see the tanned man throwing his pants into a crumpled pile in the corner with the rest of his clothes. Really, Vash hadn't even noticed him strip, only to be left in his boxer briefs. His cheeks flushed red, quickly averting his eyes as he readjusted himself and you on the bed so you were now laying properly. Vash had wedged himself back against the wall, your back pressed to his front, as Wolfwood climbed in to join. "Tight fuckin' fit," Wolfwood grunted, and Vash would have been embarrassed at his phrasing if you hadn't laughed at him and playfully swatted his chest. Considering the limited space, the three of you had to shuffle around for a bit to get comfortable, one of you earning an elbow to somewhere sensitive, or a knee to the thigh, but finally everything settled into a comfortable position. Wolfwood laid on his back, arm outstretched for both you and Vash to rest your heads on, your back to his side, face to face with Vash. It didn't take long for Wolfwood to doze off, his light-sleep snoring filling the otherwise empty room. Vash tried to sleep, really he did, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He couldn't stop staring at the curve of your jaw, the halo of hair on the arm and pillow below you, and your beautiful dazzling eyes. This time, he didn't have to shy away when you met his gaze. This time, he could stare and stare until he went blind. And, as enamored with you as he was, he could see that same infatuation as you stared back.  "Hey," You whispered, closing your eyes as his metallic hand brushed a strand of hair behind your ears. "Hey." Those were the only words you exchanged, afraid you might wake up your sleeping companion. That didn't stop you grinning from ear to ear, though, and it didn't stop him from shuffling impossibly closer, or his cold mechanical hand running up and down your side, slowly skating up. He traced a trail with his fingertips, going from your side, to your back, up your arm, brushing over your collarbone, and up your neck. It was feather light, scared that if he pressed any harder you would disappear into a cloud of smoke. His fingers stopped at your chin, index finger gently hooked underneath, while his thumb traced the outline of your lips. Vash sucked in a deep breath, half lidded cyan eyes staying locked on the slight part of your mouth as you kissed the pad of his metal thumb. He exhaled in a puff, watching the hairs to the side of your face shift in place. "This doesn't feel real," He admitted in a whisper, barely audible had you not been mere inches away from him, "I feel like I don't deserve this." Frowning, you pressed another kiss to his hand, and he vaguely registered the warmth of your palm on the side of his neck. It was as gentle as a mayfly's wing, and had he not seen your arm move, he would have missed it. The same hand reached out, grasping his wrist and pulling it away from your face. Vash swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, his still tipsy mind hazy as you leaned in and placed your petal soft lips on the corner of his mouth. It wasn't enough, he could never get enough, he thought as he turned his head, greedily taking you in and kissing you so gently. His eyes fell closed, fingers threading between yours. Shifting slightly, his other hand came up from beneath him, cupping the back of your neck. It was slow, languid, gentle, like you both had all the time in the world to simply exist with each other. Vash wanted to make up for lost time, apologize for leaving you in that motel room, tell you how much he missed you, but instead he spoke with his actions. He kissed you tenderly, lovingly, over and over again, his hands holding you so close you might think it was his last night alive. "I never stopped thinking about you," He whispered between kisses, turning you over on your back. He propped himself up, torso hovering over you as he kissed your cheek, nose, jaw, the shell of your ear. The sigh you breathed had him closing his eyes, scrunching his brow and committing it to memory.  Untangling his fingers from yours, his metal hand reached down, firmly grasping your hip as his lips moved down. He wanted to do this for so long, shower you in love and affection, to be showered in love and affection back. He wanted to give and take and exist in a world that was entirely you. When his lips came back up, there was more intensity behind his kisses, welcoming the part of your mouth with his own. Your mouth was warm, welcoming, and he could taste the lingering booze left behind when he pressed his tongue into your own. There was a whine, and it took him longer than it should have to realize it came from him, pulling back quickly when he felt a shift in the bed beside the two of you. A thick strand of saliva kept your mouths connected as he glanced over, seeing Wolfwood tugging his arm back and tucking it behind his head. Vash stilled, waited, and when he heard the telltale snores again, he was back on your lips in an instant. "Vash," You breathed into him, your hands grabbing the back of his shirt and fisting the material in your palms, "It's okay, I'm not going anywhere."  You sounded amused, and his fingers gripped you just a little bit tighter as he kissed you just a little bit harder. "I know." But he didn't know. He didn't know when would be the last moments he spent with you, and he didn't want you to slip between his fingers again. He didn't want to dance around his feelings to keep you safe when neither of your futures were guaranteed tomorrow. So, instead of pulling back when you patted and rubbed his back, he slipped between your legs, his hands grabbing at your thighs and pulling you into him, adjusting your position. He hunched over you, forearms resting beside your head as he took more and more, stealing the breath from your lungs, soaking in your tiny whines and insincere protests. There was a fire in the pit of his stomach, and everything about you, everything you did, stoked the flame, made it burn brighter, hotter. Vash didn't know where this boldness came from, brushing your bangs back from your face and kissing you once more, the heat of his hand searing your skin as he dipped his fingers just below the band of your shorts, hiking your leg up around his waist. Immediately met with eager compliance, Vash smiled against you and rubbed an affectionate stroke on your outer thigh. His hand moved up, further and further until his fingers were tangled in the strands of your hair. He lowered himself, just a bit, but it was enough to have his pelvis rub up into you. The moan you let out was less quiet, but he couldn't care less when you were pulling him so much closer, arching your hips to press up into him. He shuddered, a small hiss making it past his teeth as you rubbed up into him. He was already getting so worked up and he didn't even know if you would be okay with something so different, something that could send you running. "I want you," He sighed into your temple, cheeks flushing, "Just... Promise you'll try to keep an open mind?" He was suddenly bashful, watching your brow quirk at his request. "Wha– why?"  "It's– my, ahem... It's a little different than, uhm–" Vash paused, a shiver wracking up his spine when you reached down and palmed the front of his pants. You kissed him, obviously not swayed by his lack of human anatomy– he didn't know why he expected anything less from the person that would patch him up and nurse his hard to reach wounds. He relaxed into your touch, cock pulsing in its confines as you flattened your palm and stroked up and down the front of his pants, arms shaking as he pulled back from you with a sheepish smile. "Sensitive," He explained, fingers pushing up the hem of your shirt until you lifted your arms, allowing him to pull the fabric off and toss it behind him and onto the floor. His eyes widened, before softening, hands clutching at your sides and moving up and down soothingly. "Beautiful." Both hands, metal and flesh, gripped your ribcage, thumbing over the perk of your nipples. You reaction was immediate, back arching, one hand flying to cover your mouth. Vash exhaled, breathing ragged as he repeated the action, this time watching your face contort, trying your best to keep quiet and not wake Wolfwood next to you. He pinched your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, gently rolling them in his grasp. Your airy moans urged his own whine, his lips replacing one of his hands, working you just a little faster. Hands moved, clothing was discarded, and by the time Vash had gotten his senses about him, you were in nothing but your underwear, urging him to tug his shirt over his head and throw it into the dark with the rest of your clothes. Vash knows he was supposed to savor this, commit it to memory, but your wandering hand stroking his cheeks, pulling his hair, pawing at the front of his pants, had all of his senses kicked into overdrive. You were beautiful, more so than he had ever imagined, and he didn't want to wait another second to have you. The warm pad of his thumb came up, pressing into your bottom lip, urging you to open up for him. He kissed you, more tongue than lips, while his metal hand caressed the innermost part of your thighs, the tips of his fingers teasing up against your clothed clit. When you moaned into his mouth, he moaned with you, the sound less quiet than desired and entirely debauched. Handling you with utmost care, his hand peeled your underwear to the side. Vash was surprised when you didn't flinch at the cold– but then again he was probably warmed by your body heat– as he dipped his fingers into just slightly, coming back up to circle your clit. Sounds he didn't think he would ever get to hear cascaded from your lips, and he greedily lapped them up like his last meal. Occasionally returning your noises with a choked out moan or breathy whine, his fingers trailed back down, one finger slowly dipping into your heat. When you gasped into him, he curled his finger up slowly, pulling back before pushing in a second. You were soaked, and your combined groan echoed off the walls of your small shared room. "Having all the fun without me," Broke the silence, hands on Vash's hips from behind making him startle out a high pitched eep! "Got room for another?" In all honesty, Vash hadn't even noticed Wolfwood move, and he wondered if it's because he was so wrapped up in you, or if Wolfwood was really that quiet. His cheeks flushed a deeper red, if that was even possible, when he glanced down, watching Wolfwood press his tented boxers up and into his ass. Cerulean eyes shot back up, like a deer in the headlights as Wolfwood ran a hand up his bare spine slowly. Vash turned to glance at you, only to see you biting your lip to suppress a shy grin, then back at Wolfwood. He nodded, barely finished the action of agreeing before he was being grabbed by the back of the neck and tugged up. Back to his chest, Wolfwood moved his hand around his neck to cup his jaw, pulling him into a mind-numbing kiss. His lips were rougher, chapped, and he could taste the leftover nicotine lingering on his breath when his mouth was pried open by his tongue. Vash moaned, eyes rolling back into his skull when Wolfwood reached around with his other hand, cupping the front of his pants and giving a gentle squeeze. Back arching, Vash bucked into his hand, pulling back to fix Wolfwood with a half lidded, embarrassed expression.  "It's... it's different," Vash explained again, earning a snicker in response. "You got a hole?" His expression fell, eyes wide in shock, nodding slowly. "We're all good then." He should've been embarrassed, really. Should've been embarrassed that Wolfwood speaking to him so directly made his cock twitch, or embarrassed by the fact when he glanced over you were touching yourself below him, but he couldn't. He locked eyes with you, his breath catching in his throat as you pushed yourself up on your forearms. You sat up on your knees, hands holding his waist as you kissed him again. Being pulled back and forth made his head spin, and he didn't know who was unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down his hips, but every touch and sensation and movement had him absolutely delirious. A hand was on his face again, Wolfwood squishing his cheeks to open his mouth and pull him back for another debauched, sloppy kiss. He didn't have time to be bashful about his state of undress, but the way you gasped when his pants and boxers had been pulled to his knees had his body tensing. Wolfwood seemed intrigued, parting only far enough to glance down. Vash slapped his hands over his face, not daring to peek through the cracks of his fingers. "Vash," You breathed, a yelp leaving his lips when he felt your smaller hand grasp him, "You're so gorgeous." Finally, Vash had gathered the courage to look at you from behind his hands, seeing the intrigued, bewildered expression on your face. You were tracing the neon glyphs running up his length, which would look like a normal human appendage had it not emerged from opened, flourishing petals. He was twitching with every slight touch, panting behind his hands as your fingers moved down, hips jumping and cock bouncing with even the slightest graze. "C–Careful, sensitive." Slick ooze coated his entire length, your hand glistening after releasing him from your grasp. Vash tossed a glance over his shoulder, seeing Wolfwood's furrowed brows and focused expression. Oh God, he thought this was weird didn't he? His worries dissipated the second Wolfwood reached around, using two fingers to gather up the slick coating him. He smirked, using his thumb to smear it around on his fingers before pulling his hand back. Vash would have been confused if he didn't feel a slimy finger circling his asshole, making him gasp and jump. "Tell us if it's too much," You soothed, laying back on the bed and coaxing Vash to come with you. He complied, of course he did, forearms holding himself above you as you whispered sweet words, followed by a quick, "Touch me again." Skin–warmed metal prodded at your entrance again, moving up, then down, before two fingers slowly entered you. In unison, Wolfwood pressed a finger into Vash, pulling a surprised mewl from his throat. Still, he melted into the touch, fingers pausing only briefly as he caught his bearings, before curling his prosthetic digits and stroking inside of your dripping cunt. The sounds you made were heavenly, his legs shaking as Wolfwood slowly worked him open. A second finger was added, his back arching and pressing down into your chest as he choked out a cry. "You're so pretty," You murmered through the haze, a grunt coming from Wolfwood behind him, "Please, Vash... I want you." Three words he never thought he would hear, three words that almost had him cumming on the spot paired with the quick work Wolfwood was making of him. He nodded frantically, glancing over his shoulder at Wolfwood, seeing his boxers now gone, cock impossibly hard and heavy under its own weight. Vash audibly choked, eyes wide when he made eye contact. "B– aha, big," Vash stuttered intelligently, earning a smirk in return. "How–" "The man upstairs blessed me in that way. Dont worry your pretty little head about it." Wolfwood pulled back, shucking down Vash's pants the rest of the way and pulling them off, allowing him to look back at you and crowd you in his space. Metal fingers gripped himself by the base, swiping one, two, three stripes up the line of your pussy, making his body jolt every time. The head caught on your entrance, his arms shaking as he slowly, oh so slowly, pushed himself into your welcoming heat. The slide was easy between your combined slick, his slow inch-by-inch entrance more for him than you to adjust. Once he bottomed out, you breathed a sigh, and he whimpered into your neck. Vash wasn't given much, if any time to adjust, before Wolfwood was pressing his cockhead against his hole, only managing to get two or three weak thrusts into your clenching heat before he was being split open. He was loud, the moan ripped from his throat when Wolfwood pushed himself in, filling him so good and so much. His cock twitched, jumped, and throbbed inside your soaked cunt, earning a string of pleas and mewls from your lips. He couldn't think straight, couldn't see straight, and he didn't even register the fact he had started moving back and forth in your heat in time with Wolfwood's thrusts until a particularly spongy spot inside him had been prodded by the other man's cockhead. "Ah, s–so much!" Crying out in pure bliss, Vash quickened his speed, the slap of Wolfwoods hips against his ass barely audible over his moans and mewls and whines. It was almost too much, almost enough to push him over the cliff of overstimulation, just barely toeing the line. Tears pooled in his eyes, knocking his forehead against yours as he panted into your open mouth. "I love you, I love you I love you I–" Vash sputtered, only a fraction of his brain working well enough to know he was going to cum fast and hard if he didn't try to anchor himself. "'m gonna cum, please, please cum with me." He didn't know who exactly he was talking to, you, Wolfwood, or both, but he was desperate. Bringing down the pad of his thumb, he spun quick hard circles around your clit, revelling in your gasps and whines. His hips stuttered when Wolfwood slammed into him with a particularly hard thrust, knocking him forward into you deeper, harder. He couldn't stop himself even if he tried, his voice caught in his throat as he choked, wailed, tears falling from his eyes and drool slipping from the corner of his mouth. Moan after syrupy thick moan, he emptied himself into your welcoming heat. The shockwaves of Wolfwood pounding into him mercilessly pushing you over the edge with his restless fingers. He could never forget your please, please, please now that he was the cause of your pleasure, pumping you full of viscous fluids and bringing you to your own finish. In sync, Wolfwood growled behind him, grabbing a fistful of his hair from behind and tugging him so his back arched, feeling a warm wetness spill into him. In silence, the three of you quivered, bodies shaking from the intensity as you stilled. The hand in his hair loosened, his body falling slack on top of you, both of you grunting at the impact. His cheek was pressed against your chest, smearing the drool running down his chin against your smooth skin. "Fuck," Wolfwood broke the silence, pulling out and away from Vash, "That was..." "So good," Vash slurred, mind broken as he continued to quake on top of you. Both you and Wolfwood laughed, turning him on his side to the center of the bed. He groaned, eyes glancing down between your legs to see the sheer amount of liquids that had left a sizeable puddle on the sheets. He couldn't find it in himself to be shy about it, simply smiling at you and murmuring an insincere, "Sorry." Your hand came up, gently smacking his chest in jest as you curled up as close as you could, partially to avoid the quickly cooling liquid and partially to bask in the afterglow with him. Wolfwood sighed, content as he laid down on the other side of Vash, throwing his arm over both of your waists. "No cleanup?" You mumbled into Vash's chest, earning a scoff from Wolfwood in return. "You wanna get up?" "Nooo," You whined. "Then it can wait 'til mornin'." Vash exhaled a weak laugh, his heart feeling so full, so warm, turning his head back to look at Wolfwood and getting a surprisingly tender kiss in return. Turning his head back to you, his warm fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he placed a slow, gentle kiss on your swollen lips. Just as he began to doze off, Wolfwood steadily snoring once again, he heard your exhausted, crackled voice in the back of his mind. “I love both of you. So, so much.” And in that moment, Vash the Stampede knew he had so much more to look forward to in his following days.
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fruitsoxs · 10 months
Note
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
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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.
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pinkanonwrites · 1 year
Text
Sloppy-Style
MY WOLFWOOD/READER FIC IS HEEEERE!!! I may have had a bit too much fun writing this, but i think it’s a masterpiece so it’s more than worth it. I haven’t had anyone proofread this so if you see any typos no you didnt. <( ̄︶ ̄)> 
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Nicholas D. Wolfwood/Reader, NSFW, 4,200+ words, PLANT!Reader, alien biology, aphrodisiac, fingering, AFAB-ish Reader but no pronouns used, Vaginal sex, sweaty, sticky, messy, and affectionate, the four best things for a smut fic to be!~
NSFW BELOW THE CUT
In Wolfwood's eyes, you were a remarkably easy person to read.
Maybe it was a PLANT thing, you and Vash both seemed to wear your emotions right on your sleeve wherever you went, whoever you met. And though Nicholas wasn't a fan of that particular brand of vulnerability on himself, on you he found it to be at least somewhat refreshing. That must have been why it threw him so off-kilter when you seemed to be hiding something.
You'd been quieter than usual the past few days, and if Wolfwood were a less observant man there was a chance he wouldn't even have noticed. Sure you laughed along to Vash's antics and joined the dinnertime chatter like usual, but the spaces in between that would normally be filled with your thoughts and queries were starting to come up uncomfortably silent. You were jumpier too, that was impossible to ignore. Not just around strangers, but bumping into Meryl, Vash, Milly, even himself seemed to have you jolting away like you were going to bolt right out of your own skin.
And when your group finally arrived in the next town and you'd quietly tugged Meryl aside, asking to have your own room for the night since you weren't feeling well? He couldn't help but be a little bit curious.
So when Vash and the girls were discussing where they wanted to eat for dinner, Wolfwood waved them off, insisting that he'd meet up with them at the bar that evening. As soon as the trio were out of eye and earshot, he let himself quietly up to the door of your room.
"Ey, birdie." He gave your door a few rough taps with the backs of his knuckles. "Seriously, what's eatin' you? You've been weird all day."
"Whu-Wolfwood?"
You sounded… almost out of breath? Jiggling the brass handle a bit, he found the door to be locked too.
"Nonononono, don't come in! I'm fine, I'm fine!"
Your feet pattered unsteadily across the floor as you rushed to keep the door shut. Your shoulder thumped against the wood, and he could hear your shaky, uneven breathing beyond it. Wolfwood's frown deepened, brow furrowing at… at whatever you think you're up to right now.
"If you're sick or something I'm gonna be real pissed off!" He rattled the doorknob again and you squeaked, hands coming down to clasp it. "You may have everyone else fooled, but you're actin' weird lately. And don't think I won't blow this door down to get to the bottom of it."
Why did he care so much? This wasn't a part of his mission, his plan. All he was supposed to do was keep needle-noggin from getting his head blown off by wayward mercenaries, now here he was trying to play Mr. Fix-It for some other Independent he wasn't even aware existed until recently. He's about ready to give up and shoot the lock of your door in when he hears a strangled whimper from your side of the wood partition.
"...You alright?" He asks, the irritated edge dropping quickly off of his tone.
"...No."
"Wanna talk about it?"
You whine again, something about the tone zinging heat through Wolfwood's mind. Before he can try and question you a third time the door unlatches with a soft click, and you peer at him through the gap between it and the doorframe.
Your forehead is beaded with sweat, and you're all but panting as you clutch the front of your oversized white linen nightshirt. There's a scent in the air that hits him as soon as you open the door, nearly bowling him over. It's thick, heady- a deep earthy scent but there's almost a touch of something… sweet, to it. It's intoxicating.
"You really need to leave." You tried to insist, but your voice sounds like that's the last thing you want Wolfwood to be doing. 
"The hell's going on with you?" He pressed on, and when you try to push the door shut again his hand clutches the edge and forces it, gently but insistently, back open. You stumble back a few steps as he lets himself into the room and shuts the door. There's feathers strewn all about, like you'd exploded a down pillow, and that scent is damn near strong enough to bring him to his knees. 
"It's- It's complicated."
"Try me. I'm smarter than you think."
You wring the fabric of your nightshirt, twisting it in your hands as you shift idly back and forth. Though you struggle to make eye contact with him Wolfwood can feel your gaze raking up and down his body. For once in his life he feels distinctly not like the predator he's been made to be, but the prey beneath your steely eyes.
"I'm… blooming."
Wolfwood's lack of response is too awkward for you to just sit in, so your words stumble forward unabated.
"I thought it was just something they'd induce in the lab. Chemical injections to encourage reproduction. I didn't know it could happen outside of the tanks."
Induce in the lab.
Chemical injections.
Encourage reproduction.
Oh.
"So you're like, uh-" He was prepared for any possible outcome except, it seems, this one. "Horny?"
You groan, burying your face in both hands. When the group had discovered you, everyone had uncomfortably ignored the little green check mark in your digital files next to the line 'Approved for Breeding.' Frankly Wolfwood hadn't wanted to think about the implications, much less consider that they'd come up again in a different context. But now he's forced to accept the uncomfortable reality of the situation, though he doubted it could be more uncomfortable for himself than it must be for you.
But damn, you looked good though. Smelled good too. Was that a weird PLANT thing? Like hell if he knew, but he couldn't help from eating you up with his eyes the same way you were doing to him.
…Did you just say something to him?
"Sorry, uh, what was that?"
You huff, drawing your lower lip under your teeth and wringing the fabric ever tighter in your hands. Your incessant tugging was stretching the neckline out, exposing more and more of your sweaty, jutting collarbone and- focus, Wolfwood, focus. "So you should probably leave before things get any worse. I'll be fine in a couple days."
"A co- Sorry, a couple days? Damn, birdie." He wasn't above laying low for a couple days in a small town like this, and he was sure everyone else would enjoy the break from the chaos too. But a week straight for you? Locked in your room, whimpering, writhing, desperate…? Okay maybe it wasn't such a bad image after all. But Wolfwood hardly wanted you to torture yourself like that. "Anything you can do about it?"
"Not by myself, no." His eyebrows fly up, and only then do you realize how that sentence actually sounded. "That wasn't-! I didn't mean-!"
"Whoa whoa, hey, take it easy. Don't freak yourself out over nothin'." He means for it to be a soothing gesture when he cups your cheek, but your knees buckle like they're going to give out completely and you shudder into his touch. "...Y'know, I'm not opposed either. If you're lookin', I mean."
You don't flinch away at his words, nor do you stutter or stammer or gasp. But your cheek flushes hot under his touch and when you blink your bleary eyes open your pupils are blown so wide they eclipse the color of your iris almost completely. "Why's that?" You rumble, hands relaxing ever so slightly where they bunch the thin linen of your shirt.
"Maybe I don't like seeing a sweet little thing like you in pain, ever think of that?" His thumb traces the apple of your cheek and you breathe out a shuddering sigh. But there's still a hint of trepidation behind your gaze, something still a touch unsure.
"It's… it's a little different, down there. Not quite the same as a human."
He cracks a smarmy grin. "You got a hole?" You thump him on the chest with a flat palm and he chuckles, tapering off softly when you give him a tiny nod in response. "Then I'll figure it out. I'm pretty creative."
"You're a real perv for a holy man." You let out a small, breathless giggle, and holy man or not Wolfwood is ready to fall to his knees for you right then and there. "...Only if you can promise this won't make things weird."
"Pinkie promise."
Whatever bit of sanity you’ve been desperately clinging to in order to maintain this conversation seems to slip through your fingertips at his gentle insistence. You slump into his arms, clinging to the front of his suit jacket like a lifeline as you press your cheek into the bare valley of his chest. He leans back against the door to slot a knee between your thighs and you seat yourself like it’s second nature, hips rocking as you moan into his bare skin.
“That’s it, baby.” His hand cups the back of your head, fingers threading in your messy hair. “God, you’re aching for it, aren’t you?”
“W’lfwood,” You slur, mushed and messy, and he shudders as you lathe your tongue up the inner curve of his pectoral. “Kiss, kiss.”
“Alright, alright. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Sliding down the back of your head, his hand cups the base of your neck as you strain to kiss him, meeting in a wet, desperate fervor. Your tongue traces the seam of his lips, coaxing him to open himself up to you as your mouths meet. You're so soft, so much softer than he deserves. His hip is bumping against the door handle every time you roll your crotch against the meat of his thigh, the sharp insistent rattling joining the wet and breathy sounds of your mouth meeting his. You whimper and groan into each kiss like it pains you to part, even for a moment, and Wolfwood can already feel the knee of his slacks soaking through with your insistent arousal.
You might just devour him whole if he lets you go on like this. He doesn't think he'd even mind it.
But he's starting to get a crick in his neck, and if he keeps rattling the doorknob like this eventually someone's gonna come a-knocking. So carefully, while disentangling himself from you as little as possible, he starts to lead you backwards towards your unmade bed. When your knees hit the edge of the mattress you take him with you, the unexpected show of force surprising but definitely not unappreciated as you drag him down onto the bed on top of you. Feathers fly as your bodies whump into the mattress, springs squeaking as he wrestles you into place beneath himself. Your mouths pull apart with a wet pop, and you whimper and lean towards him to reconnect them again even as he sits back on his knees.
"Shh, shh, don't worry, birdie." He purrs. One broad hand strokes down the curve of your belly, following the fabric of your nightshirt down to your mid thigh so he can hook two fingers underneath the hem. "I said I'd take care of you, didn't I? Well you gotta let me see what I'm working with first."
You chirp, honest to God chirp in response, chime-like and eager. Between the noises and the feathers, he's starting to think that 'birdie' nickname he chose for you was less of a fun coincidence and more some sort of divine intervention, a peek into his inevitable future. But frankly he's much more interested in the way you spread your legs for him ever further, tension pulling the hem of your nightshirt further up as you coo for his touch. He pushes it up the rest of the way for you and the fabric crumples and folds where it's bunched upon your stomach. You aren't wearing anything beneath it, and that's damn near enough to knock the wind out of him alone. But there's a thick, translucent glimmer all the way down your inner thighs, dripping from your core, and in a breathless headrush Wolfwood realizes in your arousal and desperation you'd slicked yourself all the way down to the inside of your knees. 
He finds his gaze and his hands raking up towards the apex of your thighs. You were telling the truth, it isn't exactly like a human's. But it's not too dissimilar either. Soft, pink petals fold outwards from your core like a blooming flower. They quiver as he drags his knuckles along the curve of your inner thigh, another glob of sweet-smelling fluid dripping from your hole as your breath hitches. At the top of the bloom he finds a swollen bud, standing to attention like it can't wait to receive his touch. Your clit, maybe? Or whatever the equivalent is. Either way, it's the perfect size for him to smooth under the calloused pad of his thumb, and when he does you let out a punched-out sob, stomach tensing as you curl towards his exploratory hand.
"Fuck… Aren't you a pretty sight? Trust me baby, you've got nothing to worry about." It's not nearly enough, but Wolfwood's never been good with words. He knows that you aren't human but right now? Right now you're ethereal. Hair encircling your head in a soft halo, surrounded by little drifting feathers, glistening with sweat and slick? And your eyes? God, your eyes…
"Wolfwood!" You're reaching for his lapels again, tugging weakly at the fabric to urge him to do something, anything. "Nicholas!"
"Deep breaths, I'm not goin' anywhere." He slid two fingers up through your folds, skirting around the edges of your hole. The mewl you let out crawls down the length of his spine and curls hot and needy in his gut; He's going to need to take his own deep breaths if he wants to not bust the second he gets inside you. "Here, just like this, birdie. That's it." He shuffles himself between your legs, pulling until you wrap them both around his hips and you're spread impossibly further open for him. "Fingers first, okay?"
"Nick.~" You're practically sobbing, but you nod in agreement despite yourself. A thick middle finger prods at your entrance, petals fluttering and shivering as your body opens up to him, sucking him in up to the second knuckle with hardly more than a slow, insistent press. The intrusion does little to quell the flame roaring in your lower stomach, only further stoking your desire as your pussy twitches and drools around the intruding digit. He gives it a slow, patient thrust, crooking it upwards towards your belly as he does and causing more warm slick to dribble out into his palm.
"Fuck, you're so wet. Leaking all over my hand and I haven't even gotten a second finger in yet." He can't help but tease you, even though he thinks you may already be too far gone to register it. Your body opens up to him so easily, hips rabbiting as he pinches your clit between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand, pulling back to press a second finger into you alongside the first. There's a little more resistance, but with how wet you are for him it isn't long before he's working them into you in a rhythmic pulse, slick squelching and spattering into his hand with each thrust. "You gotta cum for me first, alright? Then I'll fuck you just like you need it. You wanna cum for me, sweet thing?"
"Yes, yes!" Your hands scrabble wildly for the front of his shirt, nails raking down his bare chest as you tug him to meet you. You mash your mouth against his own, slick with spit and moaning into his as your teeth click harshly against each other's. "Mmfh, Wolfwood, Nick. Wanna cum, wanna cum please!"
"I'm not stopping you, birdie.~" He fights a smirk, crooking his fingers to grind the calloused tips against your soft, spongy walls. “Let go for me.”
But as much as he wants to watch your expressions as you tip over the edge for him, he's caught off-guard by a rough shredding noise as your back goes concave, wings bursting straight through the fabric of your nightshirt beneath you as you gasp and pulse around his fingers. Feathers explode into the still air as you writhe and gush and sob for him.
"Nick, Nick!" Scrabbling hands grip at his wrist but he keeps his fingers moving, massaging your shivering walls until the tension finally seems to melt from your body and you slump pathetically back onto the mattress with a final gush of slick warmth. "Nick, Nico…" You're so far gone for him, and it's too damn cute.
"So that's where all the feathers came from. Fancy that."
"Mmmrh… Ruined my shirt…" You grumble, whining again when he slowly pulls his fingers from your blooming core.
"Want me to buy you a new one? Just don't pick anything too pricey, we're still on a budget here." He pats the inside of your inner thigh in a manner that's supposed to be playfully patronizing, but the gentle jerk of your hips toward his touch just pulls another wry grin to his face. "Whoa there, darlin'."
You swat weakly at his hand, but there's no real malice behind it, not really. "Wha' am I, a Tomas?"
"Based on how hard you were riding my fingers, maybe I'm the Tomas- hey!" He's laughing as you swat at him again, leaning in to kiss the smile off your face. "Little brat.~ Maybe you don't need my help after all?"
"Nononono, don't go! Nico, please?" It's not like he's planning on going anywhere, not with your heels snug in the small of his back and your hands rumpling his unbuttoned shirt, but he lets you tug him back in as you nuzzle at his sweat-sticky collarbone with your nose. "Nick, you said you'd help…" Your wings strain to curl around him as well, cradling his body and yours with the massive feathery appendages as you pepper kisses down his neck. The shredded remains of your shirt slip from your chest as you arch towards him, and he quickly bundles it into a single fist and tosses it aside.
"Then maybe you better be good for me, hm? If you want me to take care of you."
"I do, 'm sorry. Please take care of me, Nick."
You sound so genuine, even more so than usual, and despite it just being some playful teasing he almost feels the slightest bit guilty. A warm kiss brushes your temple as he finishes unbuttoning his shirt, shucking it and the jacket off in one smooth motion to crumple somewhere onto the floor. 
"Don't worry birdie, you've got me. I told you, I'm not going anywhere."
You chirp for him again, arms encircling his neck as your fingers tangle in his shaggy black hair. Wolfwood’s hands fumble blindly with the button of his slacks, lips trailing the curve of your neck as he wrestles the waistband down, taking his boxers with it. Unrestrained, his cock springs free, dark and flushed and beading pre-cum at the tip. There’s a soft, wet slap as he taps it against your sticky cunt, grinding your clit down beneath his swollen head until you’re practically shivering with need, fingers twisting hard into his hair as you struggle to breathe steadily. He lets it slide once, twice over your dripping hole before you choke out another sob of his name and he finally relents, pressing until the head pops slickly into your waiting core.
“Nick…” Your content little coo and the full body shiver you give him in response is like an adrenaline shot directly to his ego. He feels like his head is full of cotton, thick and fuzzy and warm and it’s taking every little bit of clarity he’s able to grasp onto to not bust with just the tip of his cock inside your impossible heat. You’re certainly not helping, hips jumping to desperately take in more of him, fingernails just barely prickling at the base of his neck. He breathes out slowly through his nose, shaky, steadying, before pressing on. Inch by careful inch he slides into you, murmuring mindless soft nothings all the while (for both your sake and his sanity’s) until he can feel his hips bump gently against your own. Only then does he risk letting himself slip the slightest bit, grinding hard into you as his head massages a soft, spongy spot deep within your core. Fuck, he feels like he can feel your heartbeat in your pussy…
You murmur something again, it’s most likely his name, or another plea, but Nicholas is starting to lose his own carefully-cradled sanity himself. He draws back slowly, so slowly, your vice-like heat begging him not to leave, before snapping his hips forward in a sharp, punishing roll. The reaction is all he could have possibly wanted and more; You wail, your wings shiver, trails of fire rake down the expanse of his back where your fingernails dig in. 
He’s already dreading his own quick healing process, as any marks from you he’d gladly wear forever.
It doesn’t take him long to find a rhythm, one that trickles molten heat down the length of his spine and leaves you all but screaming his name. One of his hands cradles your hip as the other grasps blindly at the edge of the headboard, wood thunking heavily against plastered wood as it slams against the hotel room wall with each thrust. His lips, his teeth, his tongue, they find the curve of your jawbone in an equally messy display, scraping along soft skin and kissing away the sweat that beads there as the two of you sink together deeper into euphoria. The air smells of sweat and sex and cigarette smoke and fresh flora, and though Wolfwood knows at this point he’ll never get into heaven, never step one foot past those fabled pearly gates, this has to be the closest damn thing to it he’ll ever see in his lifetime.
“Touch yourself for me.” He growls, breath hot against your neck. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock, sweet thing.”
You sob again, sweaty hand wriggling between your pressed-together bodies to fondle your oversensitive clit. It’s hardly more than a barely-there brush before you’re cumming again, slick gushing around the point where your bodies meet as you somehow squeeze so impossibly tighter around him. He means to last longer, wants to last longer, but your body and your voice and the oh so gentle kiss you place upon his scruffy cheek as your wings come up to enfold him like he’s something to be revered, something to be cherished… 
“Fuck.”
He chokes out a curse as he spills into you, a slurry of hot cum and slick pooling low in your gut as his hips stutter, his breath goes ragged. Each unsteady jolt of his hips shoots off fireworks behind your eyelids, his thumb digging into the jut of your hip bone as he pants into the crook of your neck. You meet in another kiss, languid and open-mouthed and messy as his movements finally slow to a stop. When he pulls away again there’s a shimmering trail of saliva still connecting your mouth to his, and he tongues it off of his lower lip with an all-too-pleased smirk. 
“Feelin’ better yet, birdie?”
You nod and let out a soft, approving hum. Though something deep inside you still yearns as he carefully pulls out, soft cock slipping free to release a deluge of slick fluid between your legs. Luckily Nicholas doesn’t seem inclined to go much further than that, settling his chin into the valley of your chest with a content huff as your fingers find his hair once more. There’s less tugging this time though, and far more petting.
“Mmmh, you could put a guy to sleep like that if you aren’t careful. I still gotta clean you up, don’t I?”
“What a gentleman.~” You tease, drawing an amused snort from Nick’s lips.
“What can I say? I live to serve.” For once he truly lets himself relax, melting into your gentle touch and your warm, soft body beneath his own. “Fuck, I’m not even craving a smoke right now. You’re really something, you know that?”
“Want me to help you kick the habit?”
“You really want me to bend you over and fuck you sloppy-style every time I’m craving a hit?”
“Nick!” The snort you’d drawn from him earlier blossoms into full-chested laughter at your scandalized tone. You thump him on the shoulder with an open palm, a scolding little slap.
“Ahh, you’re no fun!” He chuckles, playful fingers pinching the fat of your outer thigh. “Alright then, let’s split a shower and hit the hay instead. I’m beat. How long’s this ‘blooming’ thing supposed to last when you’ve got someone to roll around with, anyway?”
“Not too long, another day at most. But don’t be mad if I wake you up in the middle of the night looking for some attention. You signed up for this, after all.”
“Darlin’, you can have my attention whenever you want.~”
777 notes · View notes
cheralith · 1 year
Text
what happens in gunsmoke... — 「 knives (nai) x reader 」
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content warnings ; gn!reader, no pronouns used (i think), reader wears makeup, one-sided jealousy, suggestive but not nsfw material, a really poor attempt at hints of comedy, explicit alcohol consumption
contains ; college!au, modern!au, reader and nai have known each other since childhood, some wolfwood x reader, "nai" is used instead of knives and is used as a nickname
word count ; 7.0k
notes ; heavily inspired by @demxnscous's magnificent college!au involving hundred spoons himself! highly, highly recommend reading all the blurbs involving it if you want to see nai being a foolishly and obliviously in love and some other comical headcanons!
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“I’ll pay you five bucks to come with us.”
“You’re fucking with me, right?”
Vash pouts and his eyes droop at Nai’s nth refusal to go with his brother and his friends to the new nightclub that had just opened on the corner of uptown that’s been all the hype nowadays across campus. Vash has heard about the throwback hits the DJ plays, the flashing lights that shine just right, the unique drinks that were offered there—he’d be insane not to go on a relieving Friday night after a week of midterms and essays. It wasn't unusual of the spiky-haired Saverem to go socialize and go all out with his closest friends as a way to relax and relieve some tension.
The story is the opposite for the other Saverem, however. Nai prefers to stay inside and be mellowed out with his usual oversized hooded snuggie and some warm tea, perhaps even binging a new show. Isolation wasn’t foreign to him either, and if anything, it’s what he would want on a Friday evening instead of being around sweaty, booze-scented college kids amidst a darkened club with flashing lights. Why would he bother with all-too-loud, outdated music with much too intimate lyrics when he could be savoring melodic Fauré’s barcarolles, instead? The answer seems too obvious.
“You can’t even buy a shot for that much in most clubs in the area,” Nai scoffs, taking off his grandpa-styled rectangular reading glasses and staring dully at him, not phased at Vash’s pleading puppy eyes. “You’re either gonna amp up the cash or come up with another dumb bribe to get me going to that madhouse with you and your little friends.” 
Vash whines, slinking his tall self onto the couch. “You know I don’t have much to spare on me, Nai…”
“And yet instead of using that money to buy yourself a new jacket,” Nai eyes Vash’s worn-out crimson jacket their mom made for them when they were children that hangs by a thin thread on the coat rack; Nai feels as if that jacket has seen better days and even impressed it made it this far in its life. “You choose to spend it on a one-time trip at a stuffy nightclub, instead.”
“It’s not about the money, though!” he retaliates, sitting up. “It’s about the memories and friends we make on the way!” he singsongs.
Nai grimaces at Vash’s cheekiness. 
“I’m not going. That’s final,” he says sternly, shoving his glasses on his face again and resuming his book.
A thick, uncomfortable silence fills the Saverem residence, only broken by the ticking of the clock and Nai’s occasional page turning. Vash breathes out a stubborn huff—he thinks his older brother has been locked up in the house too much for his own nowadays, even refusing to go out for a casual dine-in at nearby restaurants. Some people even ask about Nai’s whereabouts, to which Vash can only shrug and give the same reply: “Didn’t feel like coming.” given with a soft and dismal half-smile.
Vash studies Nai from the corner of his eye. He’s tried money, he’s tried bribing him with free food, he’s tried exchanging favors like doing his homework for him, but all have failed miserably and have fallen victim to Nai’s disturbed looks that just scream, “NO.”
So he pauses and thinks deeply for a moment. What’s something that could possibly change Nai’s mind about finally leaving their apartment that could also simultaneously let him let loose for a change, give those stiff nerves a chance to unravel and be free for a change? 
His mind flutters from option to option, all of them dying in the same instance they’re taken up inside his head… until…
Perhaps it wouldn’t be something that convinces him, but someone. Vash’s eyes slyly go to stare at Nai directly, a large grin on his face that uneases Nai ever so slightly because he knows something mischievous is brewing behind that smile. 
“What…?” he mutters, breaking eye contact. 
“You know,” Vash murmurs as he sits up, stretching, “There’s a bunch of guys that we know that are going, so you don’t have to go out of your way to meet new people.”
Nai raises a brow. He’s not too impressed at Vash’s last-minute attempt to try and get him on his feet. He doesn’t even like the majority of Vash’s companions. “So?”
Vash begins to stalk off to his bedroom to start getting ready to go to the club, anticipating Wolfwood's car that’ll pick him up in an hour or so. “Meaning Nico is coming, Meryl is coming, Milly is coming, Livio, Legato, Elendira… they’re all tagging along with us,” Vash says with a twirl of his hand, feeling Nai’s eyes dagger into his back. 
“Oh, and I also forgot…” Right before he closes his door, however, Vash glances back at his brother, stating the one thing that he knows for a fact will get Nai up and going. 
“(Y/N) will be there, too.”
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Nai can already feel sick. He can feel the bass of a song thunder from the parking lot as he drearily exits Wolfwood’s car, staring up at the flashy neon sign that screams “GUNSMOKE” in bright green text. There’s a vast array of people lined up outside, all tittering with excitement at the fresh nightclub that’s finally replaced the dingy bar, Jeneora Rock, that most people go to for a casual night out. But the bar had much too many rules to abide by because of its nonsensical history with the nearby college students, limiting what could and couldn’t be done inside. Now with little to no restriction in the new nightclub, who knows what could happen?
The unknown is what Nai fears the most, really.
He doesn’t even remember why he decided to go here on a whim, he thinks to himself as his feet carry him to the back of the line while Vash and Wolfwood talk noisily amongst each other, sulking behind them. He stares at himself in the semi-reflective surface of the window as the line moves up inch by inch, thinking he might’ve overdone himself. Nai thinks there’s too much gel in his hair, thinks that the cologne he spritzed on was too much, thinks that the Vash’s short-sleeved button-up he borrowed is too bold and a little tight, even, just barely squeezing around the biceps that blue geometric sleeve tattoos wrap around. His fingers begin to fiddle with the opened V of it, attempting to clasp in more buttons to hide his chest, but Wolfwood smacks his hand away from them. 
“Let ‘em breathe, man,” Wolfwood states, gesturing to his own exposed pectorals that almost rival in size to Nai’s. “You worked hard for them—don’t think I haven’t seen ya at the gym. Y’always hide them with those loose ass sweaters, so show those girls off for once.” He allusively cups one of them in his hands, raising his brows.
“I think I’ll decide that for myself, thanks,” a blushing Nai snaps at him and manages to close up a button that hides a sly inch of his chest, though frustration follows suit when it pops open again thanks to their prominence. His jaw tightens. He’s already in for a rough night.
It doesn’t take Nai long to regret his decision to tag along with his brother from the first step he takes into the nightclub, already overwhelmed by the thick air of sweaty bodies and dazzling lights that sparkle all across the dance floor. He especially doesn’t like the gleaming, large sign that reads, “What happens in Gunsmoke, stays in Gunsmoke.” straight across a wall that seems to be eyeing him with mischief.
The music is significantly better than most clubs and bars have to offer, but the volume and bass is still too plentiful for his liking. Nai is only halfway across the nightclub, he thinks that he could probably make a run for it when Vash’s back is turned and just walk home… maybe hitch an Uber if he’s feeling lucky. 
His second guesses, however, all manage to dissipate when he spots the one thing that managed to lure him into this hellhole in the first place.
Arctic blue eyes grow hazy when they land on a familiar figure adorned in a red top with a heart-shaped chest cutout in the middle, a pair of curve-hugging, white corduroy bell bottoms and a crescent moon buckle belt to match. Nai swallows thickly as he watches you listen intently to Meryl’s story about the latest professor-student scandal, his chest growing a little tight at the sound of your soft giggle even through the thunderous music—he’d be stupid to think it’s Vash’s shirt. It grows fuzzy by the second the more he stares at you, you still not noticing the three newest additions to the nearly full semicircle table. He picks out the smaller details of your appearance from his spot—the moon-shaped earrings match with the hardware of your belt buckle, he notices, as well as the glitter that sprinkles across your eyelids that’s framed by a razor-sharp eyeliner that rounds your eyes just right. Your lips, too, look so full with that shade of dark red lip gloss that stretches into a grin. Were they always that plump? Did they always have the bitten look to them? Why were they—
“You’re staring too much.”
Nai’s vision suddenly clears up the hazy background of the nightclub and his hearing sharpens to the music again with Vash’s voice sending chills up his spine. Vash’s lips splay a smirk that basically says he’s won in this little game of tug-of-war—for today at least. Wolfwood, too, doesn’t take long to imitate his best friend.
“There you guys are!” Milly’s voice echoes. They all go to whip their heads around and face her, a hand gesturing to them to come over to their table. “Hurry! Come!”
Another rock-hard swallow inches itself down Nai’s throat when your gaze lands on him, and he swears your eyes had grown a little larger at the sight of his attire that was very much not like his usual wear—but it’s hard to see with the darkness of the club, he can’t get his hopes up so quickly. Vash and Wolfwood greet everyone with equal fervor, Nai quietly following behind them. 
There’s an empty spot that sits right to the left of you, your eyes meet Nai’s and a silent exchange between you and him talk through stares and blinks. It’s a hesitant exchange of “No one’s sitting here right?” from his side, but he can’t exactly decipher if you’re exemplifying “It’s yours for the taking.” or “You can sit here… if you want.” Two messages with contrasting tones, Nai can’t let himself fall victim to a possible miscommunication.
But from the way you scooch closer to Milly, who’s the only other person next to you, Nai decides you’re letting him gracefully take what belongs to him…
… that is until a certain ravenette moves ever so slightly swifter than him and plops himself right next to you.
“Ah, shit,” Wolfwood expresses, manspreading his legs so there’s little to no room on the rest of the bench. “Sorry man, were ya about to sit here? My bad, but today was leg day at the gym. Hope ya can understand.” An impish smirk toys on Wolfwood’s lips as they dangle a cigarette almost mockingly. He gestures to the more gracious space on the other side of the table, where Vash pats down a spot for Nai to sit, Wolfwood’s antics going unnoticed by him.
You take the cigarette out of his mouth, your fingertips just barely feathering over Wolfwood’s lips. “Not here, mister. There’s a strict no-smoking policy here.”
Nai can only grimace and sit stiffly next to his brother, his eyes never leaving Wolfwood’s playfully wicked ones. 
With hardened icy orbs, he closely examines the sight across from him as you and Wolfwood exchange words, catching up for the evening and laughing nonchalantly, something Nai was never to particularly do as easily as him, something he was never able to get the hang of. A few drinks that the people had ordered earlier come by, and the veins in his eyes nearly pop when Wolfwood reaches over and sips your mango and dragonfruit cocktail from the same straw your lips had touched. 
“Hey!” you exclaim. “At least ask permission first, Nico.”
Nico.
That nickname that you affectionately give Wolfwood sounds like nails on a chalkboard to Nai’s ears, or like a fork on a ceramic plate. He twinges, his neck cracking menacingly from the reaction.
Wolfwood smacks his lips, fully examining the flavor before complimenting it. “Y’got good taste in liquor, sweetheart. Gimme some more.” 
“Absolutely not,” you huff. “This cost me too much, go get your own.”
Wolfwood’s arm suddenly lazily plops itself across your shoulders, pulling you (and the drink) into him closer. “Now, don’t be like that. Do some charity work for this old man. C’mon, didn’t mama ever tell ya to share?”
Nai’s eyes narrow behind the cocktail menu as he watches you blithely attempt to wriggle out of Wolfwood’s grasp, both of you exchanging inaudible laughs with each other. You sigh and cave in to his stubbornness and Nai miserably watches as you indirectly kiss Wolfwood through the shared straw that switches between your lips and his, you being completely oblivious to the gesture.
He looks over to the doors. The exit sign looks deliriously tempting right now.
For Nai, the night is quiet, something that isn’t a stranger to him when he’s around a group of people that he isn’t used to. For everyone else, however, it’s rowdy and boisterous and exciting. Adrenaline and alcohol is the only thing that everyone knows of. A song would come by and people would be racing to the dancefloor, flooding it with slurred-out lyrics and stimulating dance moves. Various glass and food trays have splattered themselves over the table, and Nai himself can feel a hefty buzz from the alcohol he’s consumed beginning to kick in.
His vision has finally adjusted to the darkness and he can see you much more clearly now. You’re envisioned in his sights just chattering aimlessly with Meryl, you three being the only ones seated still at the table as everyone else dances their night away—it’s then that Nai realizes that you haven’t gone out to the dancefloor like he has, yet, seeing as how you lacked the sweat and exhaustion everyone else was ornate in. 
It’s also then that Nai realizes he still hasn’t said a single word to you tonight—the one person that he managed to fix his appearance for.
He’d never admit that though, he thinks to himself as he downs another shot, he’d rather slit his own throat than willingly admit he attempted to fix up his appearance for your sake. Tongue hissing through his teeth at the sting of it, he blinks slowly at you when Meryl finally escorts herself out to go back to the dancefloor.
“You’re not gonna join them?” Nai finally begins, the hesitation in him hours beforehand suddenly dissipating as the alcohol reaches his system.
From your own reaction, it seemed as if you didn’t expect Nai to talk to you first, especially in such a social setting. Your mouth opens, but no words exit your lips for a few seconds before you softly smile and shake your head, “They have yet to play a song I actually want to dance to,” you murmur with your gaze turning affectionately to your friends. 
“So what’d you even pay your money for here?” Nai snorts. “Just to drink and eat? Do that at Jeneora Rock, then,” he mutters.
You narrow your gaze at him suspiciously through the frame of your drink, sipping on it ardently. “That’s rich coming from you, hm?” you test, raising a brow. “If anything, I should be saying that to you, Mr. Shut-In.”
A scoff brushes through his lips. “I was dragged here by a certain someone, if you haven’t realized yet. I’m not here voluntarily. Why would I be?” 
“It’s still quite odd to me, though,” you chuckle. “You’re quite the stubborn one, how ever did Vash manage to drag you out of your man-cave that you call your room? Truly is a mystery.”
Your tongue is just as sharp as ever—just how Nai likes it. Loves it, even. Maybe it’s because you’re the only person that returns his energy back with equal zeal, or maybe he just merely laps up any bit of attention you give him. He’d rather be tortured than admit it, but there’s that certain sting that he lavishes in at your insults. It’s the same sting that mimics itself in the alcohol he consumes ever so slowly… perilous, but addicting. Dare he say it’s the internal masochistic tendencies he lets out once in a while that makes him tempted to lure them more out of you.
Opportunity arises and he replaces Milly’s spot on the curved bench. It’s his turn to let a breathy laugh escape him, not sure whether it’s because of amusement from your words or because he’s amused at his own out-of-the-ordinary behavior tonight. “Figure that out by yourself,” he replies coolly, his fingers fiddling with the shot glass. “Since you’re so smart.”
“Oh?” you raise a brow, a faux gasp escaping you. “Was that a compliment from the one and only Nai Saverem? Should I be graced with such honor?”
He sneers lightly with a roll of his eyes following shortly. “Savor it while you can, because I’m not handing any more out.”
You feign a light pout with your lips, and Nai swears that the small head tilt you give him will lead to his demise. A swift glance at them reveals that even in the dimness, there’s a hypnotizing gloss left upon them, but Nai can’t tell if it’s because of the shared saliva between you and a specific smoker or if it’s just from all the alcohol left on your lips. Do they taste like the mango dragonfruit cocktail from earlier, he wonders, or do they now taste of a mixture of—
He blinks and returns his eyes to yours, a curious glaze still running over them. A poor attempt at distraction for himself is made by pouring two shots for you and him. 
“Oh, boo,” you sigh as you gracefully take one of the shots given by him before clinking your glass together with his. “What a waste.”
A blonde eyebrow raises itself up as you and him down your shots together. “Waste of what?”
You smack your lips from the sting of the shot. “Waste of time getting ready,” you shrug as you examine your painted fingernails. Your eyes suddenly fleet to his from a side view, and Nai swears that there’s the lift of a disappointed smile creeping on your face. “I got dolled up for no reason, then.”
And it’s there where his nerves go haywire for a split second. Nai is about to shoot back with something along the lines of wanting you to elaborate, wanting to know what the hell you meant by that, but he’s cut off at the sudden boom of the bass and beginning lyrics that makes your head whip to the dance floor. A celebratory shout rings through the nightclub at the song, per usual, with the additions of some whistles and woops from your friends. 
“C’mon, (Y/N), this is your song!” Vash shouts, motioning his hand to join you with everyone else. Everyone else chimes in with their attempts to woo you in with them. 
A short burst of laughter leaves your vodka-stained lips before you lick them, shrugging your shoulders again in fake-doubt. Panic shoots through Nai oh so suddenly. His plans to gain some alone time with you are ruined by the song that booms through the speakers. Quickly, he pours two shots into the two spare shot glasses and shoves one of them to your hand to attempt to distract you. He’s about to protest against you joining them, but a certain black-haired bastard cuts through one again.
“Promiscuous girl… wherever you are~” Wolfwood sings roughly, approaching you with his hand out rather princely. “C’mon, now, you heard ‘em. Time for ya to shine.”
“Dunno, the floor looks pretty packed…” a soft tease creeps through your tone. You share a glance with Nai and you’re a little taken aback by the irritation that he doesn’t try to hide anymore towards Wolfwood’s consistent cockblocking given how furrowed his brows are.
And it clicks to you suddenly—as to why Nai, the man who appears outside of campus once in a blue moon—was here in the first place. Why he wanted to sit next to you, why his eyes were consistently on you throughout the night, why he even came to an event like this. It drips with a one-sided acknowledgement, and your tongue darts out to lick your lips once more just before you down your handed shot for an extra confidence boost and take Wolfwood’s calloused hand. You might as well toy with him now that he’s here.
“Fuck it. Let’s go, Nico.”
Nai twitches again at the nickname.
“These for us?” Wolfwood snatches the spare shot Nai poured for himself on the table. “Thanks!” With him downing Nai’s shot meant for himself, Wolfwood shoves the shot glass back into Nai’s hand and escorts you to the dancefloor with his hand on the small of your back. 
But not without throwing a smirk over his shoulder to Nai.
Nai’s blood is about to boil to demonic temperatures whilst he watches a rare side of you expose right in front of him. He thinks the sight should be reserved just for him; hips swaying, head thrown back to relish the rhythm, lips syncing to the lyrics. But no, you’re there for all eyes to see and admire, especially a specific flirt’s.
Wolfwood trades the lyrics on and off with you, taking the role of the male voice in the song as his hands run down from your waist to your hips. Your back touches his front chest, lip bitten as he whispers the lyrics into your ear. His ringed fingers teasingly drum themselves on your curves, and there’s a desire embedded in them to go just ever so slightly lower on your body. A flash of red races through Nai’s vision when Wolfwood gently pulls your body towards him, unaware of a pair of eyes that carefully watch his reaction at the intimacy you and Wolfwood share.
“I want you on my team…” Wolfwood mutters hotly into your ear. His teeth get tempted by the shell of your ear that almost asks to be pierced by his sharpened canines, and he draws them slowly closer to it to mark his territory, a tongue running over them hungrily.
But you spin around and push him away teasingly, leaving the stubbled man tempted. 
“So does everybody else,” you chant with a cheeky smile before you fend off to dance with the others.
Nai is almost proud from the way you just about make yourself out of reach for Wolfwood. He watches as Wolfwood pokes his tongue in his cheek from what seems to be… frustration, perhaps? A flush of amusement goes by as quick as it comes in Nai’s head. The ravenette man merely shakes his head with a chuckle before resuming his antics with the others, but Nai notices how his tawny eyes don’t exactly leave you when you indulge with the others—much like his own sky blue ones.
The song ends with a riotous cheer through the dancefloor that haunts Nai’s ears. Now the only one isolated at the table, he can only watch from a distance as you smile widely and thank everyone for dancing with you. His heart lifts from its place in a pit at the sight of your footsteps beginning to come back to the table—to come back to him, but you’re yanked back by Milly and Vash when another familiar song seeps through the speakers. Wolfwood, however, manages to return you to him as a Pitbull song bellows from all sides, and his grip on you seems more stubborn, more resistant this time. Your chests are dangerously close to each other and the mere centimeters of distance between you two makes Nai’s jaw grit with aggravation. 
Wolfwood mouths to you some suggestive lyrics that make you raise a brow and grin at him. Nai hates, despises, even when he shortly follows up with his fingers close the distance between your bodies and whispers promiscuously, “And baby, I'ma make you feel so good, tonight,” into your ear.
With a gasp, a shy shiver runs up your spine at his breath so close on your skin. Nai’s grip on the shot glass is so dangerously tight, the glass threatens to self-destruct in his to-be-bleeding palm if it doesn’t loosen up any time soon. But it doesn’t seem like his grip is going to weaken and if anything, it strengthens in power when Wolfwood’s teeth go to finally bite the shell of your ear tauntingly, whetted canines glinting with deviltry back to Nai.
Nai is seeing red—angry red—like a bull to a scarlet cape. A single crack crevices itself in the shot glass. He slams it down on the table at the peak of his torment and stands up.
“Nico!” you exclaim with a strained throat at his gesture when he pulls away. You nervously laugh and create a space between you and Wolfwood, who merely replies with a chuckle and a bounce of his shoulders at your embarrassed reaction. “That was—!”
Amusement diffuses across his features, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just playin’ with ya, darlin’.”
“Mind if I come through.” 
Nai’s deadpanned voice interrupts, and it’s toned more as a declaration more than a suggestion. It hasn’t even been a minute, yet he already acknowledges the attention that’s beginning to bring a certain spotlight on him. But it isn’t just his voice that makes heads turn, it’s Nai’s presence itself that makes people all around a little stunned. And Nai knows it, he can feel the stares of not only Vash’s friends, but people all over wondering who the mysterious platinum blonde was on the dance floor whose aura just oozes a certain enigma. 
“Nai?” Vash is the first to question what on earth the Knives Saverem is doing on a dance floor, amidst a crowd that isn’t designated for his liking. “You gonna dance your heart now for once? Don’t be shy now, what happens in Gunsmoke, stays in Gunsmoke!”
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Nai huffs as a response to Vash’s delight. His impassiveness doesn’t waver his twin’s smile, though. “I’m not here to dance or sing or whatever.”
Wolfwood goes to give him a wily look, already knowing the answer to his upcoming question. “Then whatcha here for, big guy?”
You flinch at the way Nai cracks his neck to look at you, his brows furrowing in dismay and it truly doesn’t take long for Vash and everyone else who gazes upon Nai in wonder to realize why the reserved and solitary older twin is here. 
Because he’s here for you. 
Ignoring the way the tightness in his pants form when he subtly wonders upon your lustrous face from the perspire and heat from the body heats (he’s trying unnecessarily hard to avoid looking at your chest window that is glazed with crystalline sweat), he grabs your wrist and only yanks you from the crowd and a smirking Wolfwood, your complaints and pleas falling deaf on his ears.
“Nai?!” you yelp as he leads you down a skinny hallway made up of scarce couples eating each others’ faces off. “What are you d—hey! Answer me!”
Nai hisses you to shut up after a lengthy, boiling silence, to which you sullenly obey to your own wits end. The hallway seems endless, almost, if it weren’t for the emergency exit flashing in the furious red that had filtered across Nai’s vision for a brief moment earlier. 
Now it’s clear to him his true motivation for coming to this inferno of liquor and lust between strangers. The thought of you possibly meddling with someone unknown makes his chest cringe with a flicker of resentment, your body being pressed up against someone nameless is just an upcoming recipe for his own disaster. A gross taste on his tongue suddenly forms when he imagines you entwined with someone’s limbs hotly in the middle of a crowd with intentful eyes that could possibly land on you and your being.
A single bathroom lies at the near end of the hallway and Nai angrily raps his knuckles on it before bursting in when no reply echoes from the other side after only a mere second.
Wolfwood’s younger brother, Livio, stills idly in front of the toilet, and stares directly at you and Nai. While you knew he wasn’t a man of many words, an odd utterance escapes his lips obviously indicating confusion. 
Nai groans and juts his thumb behind him. “Get out.”
“But—”
“Get out, brat.”
Livio stands significantly taller than Nai, despite both men being over a hefty six feet, but Nai’s gaze toward him shoots nothing less than daggers and it’s enough to make the nearly seven-foot man scurry away from the bathroom like a frightened field mouse.
You scoff at him, pitying poor Livio as Nai slams and locks the bathroom door shut. “You could’ve waited for a few minutes for him to do his business.”
“What the hell was that?” Nai spits venomously as he ignores your previous statement. For any person, that icy glare that he currently spots at you would make anyone fall to their knees and do his every bidding. But for you, it stirs up a sudden excitement in your stomach.
“What was what?” you question innocently, eyes fiending a fake confusion.
Nai goes to let out a brief, amused laugh that has traces of spite embedded into it. It’s a mocking sort of laugh—one that powers over your faux ignorance. 
“Don’t play coy with me,” he mutters as he drags a watch-embedded hand across his face, the silver of it glinting at you with temptation. His mind replays the intimacy shared between you and Wolfwood, how there was no gap to bridge between you and him and how his teeth had pierced a piece of him onto you. Malice flickers through his face when the imagery becomes too vivid. “What the fuck was that with you and him?”
“Who? Oh, Nico?”
Disgust fills Nai’s mouth.
“Don’t call him that around me,” Nai states sternly. His body begins to mirror how Wolfwood’s body was acting towards you on the dancefloor, except in the bathroom, you’re all for him to take in. No other bodies, no suffocating heat, no overlight head—just another neon light glowing brightly in the darkness with just enough illumination to bask only you and Nai in a chilled, misty purple fog. “You know that I hate that name.”
“It doesn’t bother you when Vash or Livio says it,” you retaliate with a suspicious look glaring in your eyes. “So why am I the odd one out, huh?”
“Because—” Nai’s voice falls short. He grits his teeth in agitation and to seal the true reason as to why he hates it when your voice specifically calls Wolfwood that stupid name. “‘Cause… ‘cause we’re no longer ten years old, so it’s about time you stop calling him by that childish nickname.”
You let out an obnoxious laugh, obviously poorly humored at Nai’s reasoning. Him and you know that you’ve called Wolfwood “Nico” for ages, that the nickname is older than a decade and giving it up would be out of the blue and uncharacteristic of you.
“If that’s the case,” you mutter as Nai cages you in between the cold bathroom wall and his body, your gazes challenging each other. It takes you an incredible amount of strength to avoid inhaling the sweet scent of his cologne that you’ve savored in before and will savor again and again, and also to avoid questioning the sudden get-up that reveals his skin like never before to others, but seems all too familiar to you. “Then does that mean I should start calling Milly ‘Millicent?’ Should I start calling Vash ‘Valentinez?’ Or perhaps… since nicknames are so childish to you… should I start calling you ‘Knives’ again?” you eye him with darkened eyes, searching for any illicit reaction.
Nai fights the urge to grimace at the strangeness of his real name falling from your lips by pressing his palms deeper into the grout of the tiled bathroom. Anyone that wasn’t you or Vash were only permitted to call him by his true name, that his own nickname given by Vash as children was reserved for people that knew him from a young age—one of them being you. “That… that isn’t what I meant.”
“But you don’t mind, right?” you press. “You want me to call Nico by his proper name? Fine. Then I’ll do it with you too, Knives.” 
He bites the inside of his cheek, rolling his neck out to ease the exhaustion given to him by tonight and you before he brings it back to face you properly. Now instead of his usual frown that’s grimaced with annoyance, there’s now a smirk toying on his own lips; and it’s one that mirrors your own to your own hesitation.
“Funny you say that,” he murmurs, gently pushing one of his legs between yours and nestling his knee between them. He scans your face and satisfaction laces itself in his being as you stiffen as his gesture, letting out a small exclamation. “Because I don’t really think that name sounds too nice when you'll scream it in bed, just like how you did the other night.”
Your eyes widen at his husked tone, taken aback. Another yelp passes through your lips as Nai lifts his knee teasingly higher and the slight force of it makes you grasp onto his exposed, tattooed arm for proper balance. “Wait… Nai—”
“Oh, dear, I thought my name was Knives, though?” he taunts and puts an end to your cockiness. “Mmh, I guess it doesn’t sound too bad. I suppose I like the sound of ‘Oh, god, Knives, fuck me harder!’” He slurs, mimicking your voice. Your mouth goes agape at his poor imitation of your own breathy moans he’s heard you echo time after time. “Or perhaps ‘Knives, I’m sooo close… don’t st—”
It’s your turn to hiss at him to shut up and silence his lips with your own palm despite no one being around you. A bolt of fear runs through your nerves at the sight of Nai’s eyes entwined with a hushed craving that only you know can suffice it. Your brows knit together and Nai’s smirk peeks through the side of your hand, making your eye twitch at his arrogance that’s infected you.
“Shut the fuck up,” you whisper hotly.
Nai takes your hand away from his lips, a firm grasp around your wrist. “What? All I’m doing is just repeating what you said… what was it? Not even two nights ago?”
You bare your teeth in an attempt to hide the rising heat which begins to creep up your skin at the mention of you and Nai’s somewhat disorderly relationship with each other. 
It confuses the both of you—you’re not exactly friends-with-benefits, but you and him tiptoe along the border of what a possible relationship could be like and it’s you and him alive by the day. The only way you and Nai cope with the big pot of feelings boiling in as one in a cauldron is nonsense is through a physical intimacy shared with each other, one that tells the other that no one else gets to have you and him except each other—at least for that tumultuous night tangled in each other’s limbs because neither party wants to share their feelings first. It’s a current deciphering between whether you and Nai assume it’s a weakness to admit your heart, or you merely don’t want to ruin what you have with each other because the potential of it breaking down into nothing scares you both.
You don’t really know how much more you can take, though, prancing around a solidification of a potential label. It’s like toying around with a jack-in-the-box. The crank goes around and around time and time again for endless laps, but there eventually comes that breakthrough where something from the unknown finally bursts open and reveals itself. It could be ugly, it could be beautiful. 
But both you and Nai don’t want to know and would rather drown in ignorance. It is bliss, after all—both metaphorically and physically.
“You wanna play it that way? Alright. Then tell me, what led to all of this?” You gesture to the current position you were entrapped in—Nai confining you with his body and arms, breaths just barely exchanging with another, and a certain aura lingering around in the dim bathroom where the music just barely booms through the walls. “What? Don’t tell me you were jealous of him?” you dare not to say Wolfwood’s nickname directly in front of the very man that loathes him entirely tonight. Your answer comes in the form of Nai’s eye twitching with a poorly-hidden covetousness. “Hm. So you were.”
“I wasn’t, stop jumping to conclusions,” he mutters immediately. Nai can’t tell whether his consciousness is being blurred by the intake of alcohol he’s consumed in the past few hours or if it was the lascivious images of you dancing to your heart’s desire on the flashing dancefloor that managed to hypnotize him.
“Oh, but you totally were,” you titter with a taunt. “C’mon, don’t think I didn’t pick up on the fact that you wanted Nico’s spot next to me when you came in, that you saw him bite my ear—” you see Nai’s eyes flicker on the same ear where a soft mark positions itself on the cusp of it made by yours truly. “—and it being the sole reason why you came to me.” You lift your head up.“Don’t think I didn’t know why you came here, to a nightclub out of all things, either, especially in this outfit,” you whisper.
Nai feels your hands touch his chest, fingers ever so gently running down his exposed skin. They unbutton a singular, tempting button to expose the beginning crevices of his abdominals before your hand latches onto his belt and pulls him towards you by the yank of it. You fight the urge to grin when he grunts and lazily sling your arms on your shoulders to bring him closer to you. 
“... I’m not stupid, Nai.”
He doesn’t pull back when you run your fingers through the locks of his white blonde hair, the same shade of blonde that frames his glassy stare that prods through yours. He knows you aren’t an idiot like most people, that you’re able to read them like a book all too easily, him not being excluded in that. So he gives in—sighs softly and presses his forehead to your own, now being able to smell the faint perfume you usually wear mixed in with some hints of booze. It’s a gesture of intimacy he’s only revealed to you, and he’ll only ever reveal to you.
“So, now what?” he cedes. “Stop torturing me and tell me what you want. What do you want from me, (Y/N)?” 
Eyes lifting from his exposed chest to his that stare you down with a familiar hunger, you mumble to him, “Do you want me?”
You move his hands from the wall to your hips, the same place where Wolfwood’s hands touched moments earlier. It’s almost like you want him to replace Wolfwood’s touch entirely, as if there was a space there only Nai’s hands can fulfill, now. His fingers brazen with anticipation, he drums them the same way Wolfwood did, but to his own beat… to his own rhythm… to his own song.
 Nai stays physically silent, with his only reply being his hands gripping your hips tighter as a confirmation of sorts.
You take his hands squeezing your curves ever so lightly as a yes.
“Then have me.” 
And with that, Nai doesn’t waste any time locking his lips with yours, doing the very thing he wanted to do tonight with the one person he desired with. All flavors of fruit are on your tongue, with his own tasting every inch of you as far as it can reach. A radiant atmosphere of lust and yearn permeates in the bathroom. The bass of the music is the only thing keeping you and him steady together as one connected being, albeit if it wasn’t there, you and him would’ve collided with all surfaces a long time ago due to the haze of desire burning within you both.
You don’t know what’s to come after this. You’ll never know as long as this torturous cycle of a fire of passion blazes in flames on a routinely basis continues because you’re not sure what to feed it next. Nai isn’t sure, either, both persons being ignorant to what has to keep the fire going for more than just a singular, libidinous night amidst each other's bodies. It nips at him and you, the way you’d share such intimacy one night, only for the morning after to go back to what you would consider “normal”, of you and him sharing bickers and taunts instead of blissful sighs and soft whispers of each other’s name, desires of want going hushed between the sheets.
A soft plea of his name echoes through the air before you’re silenced by a deepened kiss that makes you grasp onto his shoulders for dear life because you know that everything will just grow in strength the more seconds pass by. Him and you can only hope what’s to come in the lone bathroom you share with each other on such a fateful night in a fateful nightclub.
After all, what happens in Gunsmoke, stays in Gunsmoke, doesn’t it?
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(a/n): situationships amirite
hi hi! i'm really surprised at myself for cranking out a fic this long in the span of only two days. for reference, "if the shoe fits" took me probably a week and a half to write or so, but i'm gonna take a wild guess and assume i wrote this to use as a distraction from my many essays due soon—yikes! that's okay, as long as i'm writing, still! i actually went to a nightclub that was the prime inspiration for this fic the other day, but i spent my time daydreaming (or nightdreaming? eveningdreaming?) about what knives would do in such a setting instead of being a normal person and drinking and clubbing. the mango dragonfruit cocktail is an actual margarita i drank during then, and though it was pretty delicious, it didn't have wolfwood spit on the straw unfortunately :/
anyways, thank you again to dem for her wonderful trigun college au (please go read it, im on my knees atp), and you for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are never unnoticed and always appreciated &lt;;3!
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jellys-compendium · 4 months
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Trigun Maximum Series
✧Absolution - (18+/NSFW) A feral angel Trimax Vash x F!Reader smut fic with breeding, rough sex, guilt and forgiveness. ✧Resurrection- (18+/NSFW) The sequel to Absolution. This is a post Trimax Vash x F!Reader plot with smut fic. Contains domestic fluff and soft!dom daddy Vash.
✧Cozy Dad!Vash Drabbles (SFW) Various cozy and comforting drabbles with a focus on Vash's life as a dad.
✧Spicy Dad!Vash Drabbles (18+/NSFW) Various sweet and spicy drabbles ft. Dad!Vash x F!Reader.
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Multi-Chapter Fics
✧Guts - (18+/NSFW) A Vash x F!Reader friends to lovers smut fic with confessing and mutual pining.
✧Aprons Are Sexy - (18+/NSFW) A silly Vash x F!Reader smut fic with master/maid roleplay and light bdsm themes.
✧Doughnuts After Sunset - (18+/NSFW) An emotional Vash x F!Reader birthday sex smut fic with themes of trust, communication, compassion, and gratitude.
✧A Recipe for Healing - (SFW) A Vash & F!Reader slice of life series about Vash’s time as Eriks.
✧How to Tame Your Brat - (18+/NSFW) A dom!Knives x bratty F!Reader smut fic. Warning: Review the tags on AO3 for this one as it contains triggering themes.
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Oneshots
✧It's the Thought That Counts - (18+/NSFW) A Vash x F!Reader smut fic with heavy pining and weird and magical dildos.
✧Lovebug (18+/NSFW) A Sinister!Vash x F!Reader smut fic. Warning: Review the tags before reading this one as it contains triggering themes.
✧Under the Covers - (18+/NSFW) An Intimate & Sleepy Morning Sex Oneshot ft. Vash x F!Reader 
✧Ménage à Trois - (18+/NSFW) A Vash x GN!Reader x Wolfwood Smut Oneshot. You heard what I said.
✧Exigent - (18+/NSFW) A Badlands Rumble Vash x F!reader smut oneshot. Warning: Contains heavy dom!reader/sub!Vash themes, pegging & impact play. Please review the tags.
✧Coax - (18+/NSFW) An alien biology Vash x F!Reader smut oneshot. Contains some rough sex and plant dick.
✧Happiness - (SFW) A Vash x GN!Reader angst drabble about finding happiness in times of need.
✧Doppelganger - (18+/NSFW) A Vash x GN!Reader x Alt!/Sinister Vash oneshot Warning: Contains dubcon and rough sex.
✧Hungry Like the Wolf - (18+/NSFW) A Vash x f!Reader x Wolfwood Halloween special
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Drabbles
✧Premature - (18+/NSFW) A Vash x F!Reader smut drabble with premature ejaculation, overstimulation and slight breeding kink.
✧Rapture - (18+/NSFW) A Passionate Knives x F!Reader smut drabble. 
✧Slow - (18+/NSFW) A short Wolfwood x GN!Reader smut drabble with thigh riding.
✧Soaked to the Bone (SFW) A Dadwood drabble. Wolfwood deserves the dad treatment too.
✧Never Enough (18+/NSFW) A Vash x F!reader drabble with themes of pregnancy and pregnant sex.
✧Mouthful (18+/NSFW) A collection of Vash x GN!Reader drabbles with themes of oral sex.
✧Vash Plant Heat Headcanons (18+/NSFW) A collection of headcanons & small drabbles about how each version of Vash deals with plant heat.
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adaelines · 1 year
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yes this is just me horny posting at almost midnight. i once again have a headache and jus wanna get fucked by wolfwood. this is just me rambling so im sorry its not formatted or anything!
nicholas d wolfwood x reader
warnings for smut, rough sex, wolfwood just taking all of his stress out on you and vash having to deal with it.
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staying in a dingy cheap hotel with everyone, but still desperate and horny after a long day. getting fucked from behind by wolfwood, his hand clasped over your mouth to quieten your whines and moans of his name. hips slamming into yours at an almost brutal pace, so strong that you’re sure you’re gonna have bruises covering your hips, ass, and thighs. bruises that’ll match the marks all over your torso, bright purple and pinks and teeth marks everywhere. his teethmarks, he loves to leave marks that’ll stay as long as possible, remind you both of what happened whilst you’re travelling and unable to do more than sneak away for a quick fuck, even though thats never stopped him from getting on his whilst everyone is asleep and making you cum until you cry, all whilst taunting you about staying quiet
wolfwood growling in your ear, telling you just just how well you’re taking him inside, that he can’t wait to fill you to the brim and stuff it inside as long as he can. even if it means filling you again in the morning and making you keep it there. low growls of ‘’shit, what a good fucking pet for me.’’ and ‘’cant fuckin’ wait to make you scream properly.. can’t wait to make sure everyone knows exactly who you belong to…’’ 
he’d make the prettiest noises, all low and gruff, doesn't help that his throat is scratchy from all that he smokes. when he whispers directly in your ear, in that low guttural voice, it never fails to make you squirm. 
and the way his other hand would grip your hip so tightly, enough that’ll you’ll have his fingerprints on you for days, pulling you back against every harsh thrust that just has him hitting so much deeper, so much harder inside of you. 
it'll be awkward tomorrow, explaining why you’re having such a hard time in the car. explaining just why it hurts so much to sit, especially not with wolfwood beside you. and vash, who was on the other side of the wall and could hear every hit of the headboard against the wall, every moan that slipped out from under wolfwoods hand, will be sat on the other side of you <3
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