#wolfwood x you smut

[vashs-turtleneck]

Sharing is Caring.

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

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.”

divider.

[angelltheninth]

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.

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?

[cheralith]

what happens in gunsmoke... — 「 knives (nai) x reader 」

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!

“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.”

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?

(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 <;3!

[h4venpha]

↳ 𝐋𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐎𝐏 — nicholas d. wolfwood

very suggestive !!

wolfwood does smth to me im sorry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[fruitsoxs]

PART 2 TO THE WOLFWOOD/READER FIC WITH VASH WATCHING PLZZZ 🙏🙏🤲🤲🤲 I need Vash to join in 😭😭😭

I had a couple people request this! this cna be read as a standalone

PART 1

pairing; vash x (GN AFAB) reader x wolfwood warning; smut, !NSFW MINORS DNI! , all that juicy stuff , vashwood sprinkled in there wordcount; 1.7k notes; I uh accidentally went a little ham and made this longer than i was planning. my typos have been bad recently, so sorry if there are any huge issues. i re-read this like 10 times but i always miss my own mistakes

Vash hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that night.

He re-watches the scene in his head every day. Thinking about the noises you made. The slapping of your skin against Wolfwood’s, and most importantly how you said his name right at the end. He sees that little smirk that Wolfwood gave him after the two of you finished. 

Wolfwood knows.

He walked straight out of the room after the two of you had finished your business. Too embarrassed and shamed to face the situation.  So he never  found out what happened after. However, he can assume that Wolfwood didn’t tell you that Vash had indeed watched the two of you have sex. You never once approached Vash to tell him off, and any awkwardness was purely Vash’s fault. He can’t seem to look you in the eye anymore. 

It doesn’t help that he keeps seeing your fucked out expression every time he looks in your general direction. Earlier, while eating dinner with everyone, he remembers watching you take a bite of your food. As the fork went into your mouth, all he could see was your parted lips as you gasped for air. That led to him thinking about the moans that left your throat that night, and soon enough his pants were growing tight.

Now he sits in his room alone, staring at the empty bed as he thinks about what to do to get rid of this awkwardness that hangs over him. 

A few knocks on his door makes him stand, walking over to let whoever is out there in. When he sees it’s you, his brain freezes. You smile up at him and push past his frozen body to come inside. “Hey.” You mumble, turning away from him and taking a deep breath. You seem a little…down. 

“I need to talk to you about…earlier.” You say facing him. “At dinner you…well I was trying to talk to you and you kept ignoring me.” You go on, and Vash feels the guilt creeping up. He doesn’t want to explain that he was doing it. “And, well, you’ve been really weird around me recently. Vash, what’s going on?”

He doesn’t know what to say for a moment. 

Vash sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He has to tell you. “Look, I uh…I walked in on you and Wolfwood the other night.” he finally admits looking anywhere but in your eye. “Oh…Vash… I, uh , know about that.” 

His eyes widen and he finally looks over at your cute blushing face. “Wolfwood already told me.” You explain. “Is that why you’re acting like this? Are you uncomfortable with what happened? I’m sorry if you-”

“No! That’s not it! I just can’t stop thinking about it! I can’t stop thinking about you and him. I can’t stop picturing your face. I….” He cuts you off, face turning bright red as he admits the feelings he has been having since that fateful night. There is a bit of an awkward silence that takes over, before a smile breaks over your lips.

“Oh.” You seem almost relieved.

“You aren’t mad?” Vash asks, eyeing you with a confused look. You laugh a bit and shake your head. “Of course not. I was worried you were mad to be honest.” you tell him, inching closer to him. He lets out a sigh in relief, and gives you a little smile. “Why would I be? I liked…what I saw.” he says honestly.

You reach a hand up to cup his cheek, and pull him down to your level. “I’m glad.” you whisper and suddenly your lips are on his. The feeling is everything he could have dreamed of, and more. Your lips are so soft against his. So perfect. He kisses back, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer.  It’s a short and sweet kiss.

When Vash pulls away, he looks over at the door. “But what about…?” he asks and you cut him off with a laugh. “I think he wants it as much as I do Vash.” You tell him, kissing his cheek. Vash blushes at the comment. 

The two of you start kissing again, this time with a bit more passion. One of his hands grips your waist, while the other snakes up to the back of your head pulling your lips against his. Just as his tongue slips into your mouth the door opens.

“Damn, You started the party without me huh?” Wolfwood comments, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. Vash detaches from you stuttering out an apology, but Wolfwood just smiles and shakes his head. “It’s alright. It’s about time if I’m being honest.” he says, shaking his head. He walks into the room and shuts the door behind him, locking it in the process. His dark eyes land on you, and he gives you a soft smile.

Vash can see the care in Wolfwood’s eyes

Wolfwood makes his way over to the two of you and kisses your cheek lightly, before turning to Vash. “You sure liked the show last time.” he gives off that same smirk as before. “Glad you’re joining in now.” 

He takes place behind you kissing your neck. While Vash, who’s blushing again, continues to kiss you on the lips. The two work you into a moaning mess. Wolfwood biting at the skin on your neck and Vash exploring your mouth hungerly with his tongue. Soon enough, Wolfwood’s rough hands slide up your shirt and cup your chest. His fingers dig into the soft flesh.

He hums against your skin, and slowly begins to peel your shirt off mumbling an “off.” You back away from Vash, who watches as Wolfwood rips your top off exposing your chest. Vash’s eyes widen at the sight, before he leans in to continue kissing you again.  

The two slowly back you over towards the bed, where you’re quickly laid down. Your bottoms are torn off immediately by Wolfwood, who has the confidence of knowing what he’s doing. The two of you have fucked before, and he knows what you like. Vash brings a certain soft and unsure side to the mix, that perfectly balances out the other. 

Blue eyes look down at you, sprawled out and naked on the bed. He reaches down to run his hands along your thighs making you gasp. Biting his lip he looks over at Wolfwood, whos’ enjoying watching the scene play out. “Tell them what you wanted to do last time.” Wolfwood takes control of the situation.

Vash’s eyes widen. “W-What?”

“Come on what did you think about while you watched me fuck em.” Wolfwood demands, pawing at Vash erection from behind. Vash lets out a little whine as he looks down at you, and squeezes his eyes shut. “W-Wanted to join in.” he stutters out. “And do what?” Wolfwood asks, nipping at Vash’s ear. “Fuck their mouth.” Vash admits, pressing his clothed cock against you. 

Your hips rise and meet his, grinding against him. Vash curses under his breath at the feeling. “Wanted to fuck their pretty mouth so bad.” Vash admits  leaning down over you on the bed. He trails his hands up your thighs, landing just below that sweet spot. “Wanted to take my turn. Make you scream my name too.” He tells you, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs slow circles around the nerve at first, getting a feel for what you want. He then dips a finger into your hole, followed by another one soon after. He finger fucks you for a second. “Wanted to see you swallow my cum.” He ends on, pulling his fingers back after he’s worked you open. 

“How bout you do something even better.” Wolfwood instructs, and starts taking off Vash’s pants from behind, groping at him as he does. Vash squirms and moans when his dick pops out. He blushes when he sees your eyes widen at the sight. He hooks his arms under your legs and pulls you close. “Go ahead blondie- they’re waiting for you.”

Vash needs no more instruction. He swipes his tip along your folds, gathering up your juices before he lines it up with your entrance. He watches you tense as your eyes flutter closed. Whimpers exit your parted lips, and he can’t hold back much longer. He pushes himself inside you slowly. You tilt your head back. “Oh! Vash!” 

He won’t last long if you do that. 

He slams his dick all the way inside you, making you scream out for him. He waits for a few minutes, looking for a sign to continue. You give him a nod, and he starts moving. Pushing in and out of you, his own moans mixing with yours. He can’t help but be vocal, you just feel so good around him. So tight and soft. 

“So good.” he moans.

Beside him, Wolfwood already has his dick out, and is watching as Vash fucks you. He’s using his hand to get himself off, eyes glued to where Vash and you meet. When he sees Vash watching him, he smiles and leans over, kissing the other man softly,

You moan from below, and Vash can feel you tighten around him. He pulls away from Wolfwood and groans before picking up his pace. He slams into you, fucking you as hard as he can will himself to. If your screams are anything to go off of, you seem to be liking it. He feels your orgasm build up before you can even say anything.

“So close-” you tell him, but he knows. “I’m gonna-” He hits you just right, and you cum around his cock immediately. “VASH!” You scream, your body jerking up, toes curling. You grab onto the sheets, eyes rolling back. Vash follows you soon after, unable to hold himself back. He pulls out and lets it out over your chest, panting and blushing.

Wolfwood lets out a low whistle, and pushes Vash to the side. “Nice work blondie- but it’s my turn.” 

It’s sure to be a long night.

[shintin]

I may have decided to write a Mafia Vash the Stampede fic with my partner in crime, Creamson😁

He's going to look like this:

Art belongs to creamsonlog on twitter. Thank you babe for this masterpiece ❤

He's so hot, I know, but please, let's keep our pants on for at least 2-3 chapters, if you know what I mean 😈

(you may think you know what I mean, but nope, I promise, you don't. it'll surprise you)

Note: This fic is going to take place in the Alternative Universe/Modern Setting where Vash and his dear brother, Kni are dons of a well-known, violent mafia family. You may say, "what the hell, Shin! Vash would never be like that! "

Well... what if something bad happens that finally snaps Vash? What if staying by his brother's side has changed him a little more than you think? What if this is Dark Vash coming to life?

Warnings: This will be a dark-love story that includes sexual situations, non/dub-con, graphic violence, gore, angst and toxicity.

A lot of toxicity!

I’m a woman in love with Vash the Stampede, okay? I want to see his dick as much as possible.

So, if any of these are triggering for you, please do not even think about reading this fic when I start publishing it.

I know some authors don’t like to lay out the specific triggers, as they want readers to experience the book blind. I get that, but with this fic, I simply would not feel right if I did not make these triggers very clear.

The last thing I would ever want to do is put a reader through any type of trauma, whether it’s new or relived. And to be frank, this fic will cover pretty fucked up subject matter.

By the way, this will be a Vash the Stampede x Female Reader fic. Yeah, it has cute stuff too, like it's a slow burn fic, just not the way you think.

p.s: It'll take a while for me to start writing it. I'm just super excited about the ART 🥵

Okay, link for the fic: Gunpowder Dreams

Have fun 😁

[beanibon]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nico said a bad word!"

"Mister Nichowas stop teasing Mrs Y/N!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nicholas! The childr-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you, Angel."

"I love you too, Nico."

[na-t0]

𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳

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...?”

[midnight-lilac-blue-hues]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.

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

(\ _ /)

( o0o)

Wolfwood × reader

Warning!!! NSFW below the cut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I can handle it," you gulped.

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

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

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

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

"Tight as ever, huh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[vashs-turtleneck]

Pip's Masterlist

Trigun Fics

(Vash x Reader)

Stay. (T)

Say my name. (18+ NSFW)

Nimble-fingered. (18+ NSFW)

Muted. (18+ NSFW)

Spoiled Rotten. (18+ NSFW)

Blow Me a Kiss. (18+ NSFW)

Quiet Nights. (T)

Desperate. (18+ NSFW)

(Vash x Reader x Wolfwood)

Sharing is Caring. (18+ NSFW)

It ain't much, but it's honest work.

divider

[angelltheninth]

…could we mayhaps get a sex pollen fic for the trigun boys x reader, separately, cause now those other ones you posted have that on my mind 🙏🏻👀💖

I can do that! Haven't written Trigun in a bit.

Pairing: Vash the Stampede, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Millions Knives x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, feral sex, sex pollen, being shy, holding back, breeding kink, teasing, cum marking, biting, possessiveness, dub-con

A/N: If I needed to be in this scenario with someone I'd pick Vash.

VASH

Poor Vash was so confused when the sex pollen hit you both. His cock got hard in an instant, he was entirely too hot and too shy to ask you for help. There was also the issue of you being unable to keep your hands to yourself and seeking release. Vash tried to ignore all the sounds, which proved futile because his cock demanded attention, it demanded your warm pussy to sink into. Would it really be okay? Mind you if you tell him yes he won't hesitate any more.

NICHOLAS

He knew what this was although he was largely uneffected because of the experiments he went through. Horny as he was you were even more so, very much to his amusement. All it took was you spreading your legs and showing him how wet you were and he was pounding your needy hole into oblivion. You were even more sensitive then usual, not just to his touch but also his words. So open to his suggestions, gladly taking his cum in all your holes.

MILLIONS KNIVES

Knew right away what was happening. You didn't. You were scared but you trusted him. He promised to make the emptiness go away. For as long as he was alive he never lusted for anyone so much, he had a few women here and there but he never felt such an urge to breed with one before. His cock pistoned in and out of you while his teeth kept biting at the base of your neck, marking you. That wasn't all though, he plunged his fingers into you when he was done breeding you, and with cum on his fingers spelled your name across your back.

[christalcake]

Demon Wolfwood Blurb

✧Pairing✧: (DEMON)Wolfwood x f!Reader

✧Content✧: PWP - porn without plot, petname (kitten), desperation, gentle demon Wolfwood.

✧W/C✧: 453 words

He was the one caught off guard, usually the one to initiate anything with his humans, but tonight you approached him.  Sitting on the edge of the bed, the blankets covering his lower half while his chest lay bare, you approached him.  No form of the intimate act was performed yet, unlike the other demons, Wolfwood wanted to wait till you were ready for him.  *Sex with a willing host is more exhilarating than anything else.* he once told you.

His eyes watched your every move, hazy with desire and want.  Wolfwood pulled the blankets away, letting his hard cock free itself waiting eagerly for your warm cunt to wrap itself around it.  You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tangling themselves with his dark locks, drawing a hiss from him.  "Give me time to warm up, kitten." he groaned, both his hands now firmly holding your plush hips as you purposely hover your lower body over his cock. 

Wolfwood leans forward, his lips kissing along your neck making your body warmer than it was, until he opens his mouth and lets his fangs graze against your skin, making your whole body shiver.  He closes his eyes, using one of his hands to explore your lower half, drawing out a moan from him when he realizes you weren't wearing anything under your white-laced dress.  

"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me.." he whispers, letting his fingers glide against your wet pussy, collecting your slick and then rubbing it against his cock.  You tease him a little, lowering your body until his tip brushes against your cunt.  His fingers dig even harder into your waist, trying to control himself and let you take the lead.  He knows the wait will be worth it. 

His face buries into the croak of your neck, teeth hungrily digging into your flesh when you finally sink your cunt onto his cock, feeling his throb against your fluttering walls.  Both your moans are echoing through the room, letting your body adjust before even attempting to roll your hips.  "Fuck, I've been waiting so long darling.." he's the first to speak, testing how sensitive you still were as he moves his hips up.  Once he knows you're finally ready for him, he starts to quicken his pace, he gazes up at you, pupils blown, and a devilish smirk on his beautiful lips.  "I may be a demon, but let me worship this body...  Your beautiful cunt wrapped around my cock...  fuck..." he's having a hard time controlling his movements, but feeling your nails dig into his flesh, as you hold onto his shoulders for deal life.  "H-How did I deserve you?  Such a beautiful angel, wrapped around my cock."

last edited 10/08/2023

[fruitsoxs]

midnight munchies

sometimes getting high with your crush ends in success

pairings: Modern!wolfwood x AFAB!reader warnings: !nsfw minors dni!, smut, making out, fluff, kinda mentions being high (doesn't go into much detail about that), cunnilingus, fingering, adam sandler notes: this went a bit out of my control lol- i may or may not have a part 2 in the works. also i have like a bunch of headcannons for my modern wolfwood in this fic if anyone wants them-- word count: 2.2k words

“Remind me again why we can’t grab all these snacks?” The gravelly voice of your dearest friend Nicholas D Wolfwood asks, grabbing a few bags of chips from your kitchen. You sigh and shoot him a look. “Because I get the munchies and literally cannot control myself when I’m high.” You reply as the microwave beeps lightly. You pop open the door and grab the popcorn with a smile. Nic sets a bowl down next to you, and you give him a quiet thank you, before pouring the warm snack into the bowl.

It’s movie night - a now weekly tradition the two of you have developed. A night where you pick out a terrible movie, get high, and just hang out. 

You’ve only been friends with Nic for about a month now, after meeting on the balcony at some party you didn’t want to go to. It’s crazy how immediately the two of you clicked. And instead of making out and never talking again, you held yourself back from kissing this insanely attractive man and got his number instead. To be friends. 

Now the two of you are basically inseparable. Texting constantly, always hanging out during your free time, and basically becoming the ultimate pair of best buds. And although that relationship is great, you can’t help but long to be something more…intimate. You thought he was attractive the moment you saw him with his messy dark hair, and tan skin. He’s like straight out of a TV show. As you got to know him more though, you couldn’t help but just keep falling. He’s funny, nice, a bit of a loser, and he is really good with kids. He’s like a dream guy! 

Even now, as you sit next to him on your shitty ass couch, you can’t help feel your heart flutter within your ribs. The way he leans back, and puts his arm across the back of the couch- almost around your shoulders. The way he throws a chip in the air and catches it with his mouth so casually- his light chuckle as something funny happens in the movie. It’s all so perfect. 

You’re not even paying attention to the movie at this point, eyes focused on him with this small smile. You’re sure you look absolutely in love, but he’s not even paying attention to you.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss Adam Sandler.” 

His eyes are hyper focused on the movie (Hotel Transylvania 4). You’re a little confused on why he’s actually invested in this movie, but he’s cute so whatever. His smile starts to widen, and his eyes glance over to you, as if he’s waiting for you to answer. 

“He’s not in this one?” You ask, turning your head to the screen with a slight blush. “How can you not tell?” Nic asks, laughing softly. 

“Oh I’m sorry I’m not an Adam Sandler expert like you.”

He laughs again, throwing his head back. He’s so cute. You break out into a little giggle of your own, and join him in what feels like a non-stop laugh session. Yeah- the effects are starting to hit you now for sure. As soon as you can catch your breath you cool down, and with a happy sigh you lean over resting your head on his shoulder.

He smiles when your head hits his shoulder and looks down at you. “This is kinda cute, you know.” He mumbles softly, only loud enough for you to barely hear it. Your cheeks turn a bit pink, and you let your thoughts inside your head flow through your lips without even thinking. “You’re kinda cute, you know.” you huff.

He smiles softly at the words, his eyes lighting up. “What was that?” He asks, an amused tone to his voice. “You gotta be louder than that.” He chuckles, flashing you a coy grin, before turning back to the movie.

“I said you’re kinda cute.” You repeat, this time louder. Suddenly you’re feeling a little brave. There’s an almost permanent smile on your lips, even as your heart thumps softly in your chest. Nic’s breathing stops for a moment, before his chest erupts into a light chuckle. He lowers his arms around your shoulders, and pulls you into his side. You can feel the vibrations in his chest from the laughter, and smell the smoke on his clothes. 

He angles his head down to look at you. “Aww thank you darlin~” You can feel his breath against your face and it makes your heartbeat pick up. He looks at your relaxed expression and chuckles again. “Is it hitting you already?” He asks, his hand squeezing your shoulder softly. “You really are so cute…”

You make no effort to push yourself away, but hide your face a bit. “Don’t make fun of me like that I might actually explode.” You mumble, flustered beyond all belief. He puts his fingers under your chin, and lifts your face up so it’s facing his. 

“Adorable…” His hand drops, but you stay looking up at him. His tone is soft, but there’s a hint of amusement on his face.  “If I tell you a secret, will you promise me you won’t tell anyone?” he lowers his tone to a light whisper, leaning in closer so his lips graze your cheek. “Just between us?”

“I promise.” You mumble oh so softly, taking in his scent. Your eyes are a little wide, staring up at him with red cheeks. This feels intimate. 

“Okay…I think I like you.” He whispers, his tone so soft. “It’s dumb and cheesy I know, but I just…” he trails off with a sheepish smile. “Wanted to be honest with you. I mean we just smoked together, and I’m a little bit stoned, and you’re cute and this just feels right to tell you how I feel about you.” He rambles, lifting his head away a bit so you can see that he is serious.

It hits you hard. Really hard. He likes you too. You should kiss him, or tell him you feel the same way. Instead though, you give a little dramatic gasp. “This is crazy, but I…” you trail off, your teasing tone becoming more serious as your voice drops down an octave. “I think I like you too.” And when you say those words, they come out serious. You’re being honest.

His eyes widen, and it looks like he’s letting the news settle before he leans in more. “How much?” he asks with a tiny, playful smile. You lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips, closing your eyes as you do. It’s a small kiss, and before he can kiss back you pull away. “That much.” 

In an instant he sweeps you up into his arms and pulls you onto his lap, his lips connecting with yours again. It’s a heated kiss, one filled with passion. He pulls you against him, and you have to hold back a whine as you rub against him softly. His tongue swipes against your lips, and as soon as you part them he’s shoving his tongue right into your mouth. He takes a little while to explore every inch he can, before he pulls away. It leaves both of you panting. 

“Wow.” Is all you can say, dazed from whatever that was. Nic doesn’t seem to be doing much better, nodding with a smile. “That was…really nice.” He agrees. “We should….keep doing that.” You mumble.

You both lean in for the kiss, picking back up where you stopped. Your hands rush to his hair as your lips move in sync. He puts his hands on your  waist, squeezing your body softly. He pulls away from the kiss, and pushes his lips against your neck. He trails kisses down, nibbling and sucking slightly. “N-Nic-” you moan and grind down slightly. He gasps at the pressure and lets out an honest to god whimper. “F-Fuck darlin’- you’re driving me crazy.” he mumbles against your skin.

You whisper a curse, your body heating up at the little nickname he calls you. “I love when you call me that.” You murmur. You feel him smile against your neck, and his lips leave your skin as he pulls back. “Oh is that so?” I guess I have to keep calling you that then, Darlin’~” He chuckles, watching your reaction. He must like it, because the next thing he does is lean down next to your ear. “Does it just make you melt?”

You let out a shaky moan, and his laughter vibrates against your ear. “You fucking tease.” You shoot at him with feign anger. He pulls away from your ear and instead presses his lips to yours again. A sweet little apology kiss. You grab onto his face and deepen it again.

It turns into a lazy open mouthed kiss soon enough, his tongue twirling around yours as soft moans leave your throat. As you pull away you bite his lip softly which causes him to grunt. Next thing you know you’re being flipped onto your back with him hovering over you. His lips are on yours again, and he trails his hand up your shirt. His hand is warm, and calloused. The skin to skin contact sends a shiver down your spine.

He slowly pushes his hand up further, cupping your breast, massaging it through your bra. You whimper against his lips, and in return he moves his hand to your other breast and gives it some attention as well. The feeling goes straight down, and you buck your hips up in a desperate attempt for some friction. 

He hums, and starts moving his lips down. He places phantom kisses over your clothed nipples, and keeps moving down. Your eyes widen at the realization of where this is going. His fingers dig into the waistband of your bottoms, and he pulls them off quickly. Now completely bare- he stares down at your exposed pussy. His pupils dilate with a hunger you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. He flicks his eyes back up to your face. “This okay?” He asks- voice soft.

You nod, but he doesn’t move. “I need a yes darlin’.” He mumbles. You can tell he’s excited, especially with the way his fingers dig into your thighs, but he’s still taking the time to make sure you’re alright. Cute.

“Y-Yes.” You manage to get out- despite being helplessly speechless by the situation. At your consent, his fingers trails down your stomach. Your breath hitches in your throat as he takes two fingers and dips them slowly through your folds. “So wet for me, and I’ve barely done anything…” He trails off, smirking as you twitch below him.

“I can’t wait to taste you.” He growls softly, lifting your legs into the air. He starts trailing kisses down your thighs, lowering his head between your legs. It takes everything within you not to scream at him to hurry the fuck up. He bites the inside of your thigh ever so softly, before his face hovers your cunt.

His eyes meet yours and he smirks before letting out a warm breath against you. You whine and try to lift your hips up to meet his face, but he’s holding you down. “Now, have some patience. I promise you it will be worth it.” He coos, softly.

The noise you let out must tell him how desperate you are, because right after he chuckles and licks up your folds, never breaking eye contact. 

“Nicholas- oh my god!” You arch your back up and cry out. He smiles and slowly inserts a finger into you, soon joined another. “Let me hear all those pretty noises.” His mouth moves against your cunt. You sob out his name again, and he presses his tongue against your clit.

He licks and sucks at the sensitive bud, while his fingers curl inside of you. The noises you let out are loud, and rather sinful. You’re not sure if your neighbors are appreciating the symphony of lewd screams as much as Nic is- but you honestly don’t care much right now. Your hands drop to his head, gripping onto his hair as he eats you out. 

He moves his fingers in a certain way that has your toes curling, and it becomes clear that you’re already close to the end. “Nic I’m close-” You warn breathlessly.

He speeds up his fingers in response, mumbling praise against your folds. It’s enough to send you over the edge- and the orgasm hits you fast. 

“FUCK- I’m coming- oh god I’m-” You squeeze your eyes close as you yell out for him. The pleasure waves through you, causing your body to jerk around a bit. He works you through your climax, lapping up everything that flows out of you like a starved man.

You fall slack against the couch as he sits back up, wiping his face. He’s got this lazy, satisfied smile on his lips as he looks down at you. 

You reach your hand out to his dick, still trapped in his pants but he shakes his head. “Tonight is all about you.” He mumbles, grabbing your hand to intervene. He brings your palm up to his lips, and kisses it softly. He pulls you up and has you sit with your face rested against his chest. He wraps an arm around you lazily, and goes back to the movie.

“Hey Nic?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought I was the one who got the munchies while high”

“Shut up.”

[shintin]

Gunpowder Dreams

Chapter 10 (Plan)

↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader

They didn't know a wounded man would show no mercy when they took the best thing he ever had away from him. What did they say? Don't poke the dragon if you can't take the heat; if you do, expect the flames.

Genre: explicit smut, toxic relation, romance, angst (Mafia au).

Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, Alternative Universe/Modern Setting, no spoilers from manga and anime, dominate Vash the Stampede, sexual situations, dub-con, graphic violence, gore, angst, toxicity, gunplay, manhandling, cunnilingus + fellatio, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, too many smut scenes, emotional trauma, and etc.

Song Recommendation: Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know?

Note: Sorry for the delayed update. Unexpected events in life took place. I hope with this smut chapter, I can earn your forgiveness.

Chapter Index - Next Chapter

The darkness suffocated you; unsettling dreams bled all over your mind and prevented you from finding rest. You only had your dreams to give you peace, but now they had vanished, leaving you unsure how to get them back.

All you saw when you closed your eyes was Knives.

You kept getting cut over and over and over, with a knife in his hand, and Vash shot his brother in the leg and outside, the wind sang, but its high-pitched and off-key melody made it difficult for you to ask it to stop. The blood on your skin drained the warmth from your veins, leaving you freezing. The floor beneath you seemed to engulf you as you lay on your back. You could taste the clotted blood in your mouth, throat, and heart.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Yet another delightful adventure in the land of perpetual misfortune.

With a sigh, you turned in bed, your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and when you blinked, you realized the leather couch in front of the windows was empty, with rumpled sheets tossed aside. Despite the house having millions of rooms, he chose to sleep on the couch. You weren't sure why he kept you in his room or why he preferred the sofa over another room. You didn't seek answers or dwell on it. Having him in the room brought comfort, but he was absent right now.

Once again, a sigh came out of your lips.

Being in Vash's presence was like a rollercoaster ride. He was so used to solitude that each day spent with him brought new revelations. These discoveries weren't entirely negative; in fact, most of what you learned about him was endearing and harmless.

Just last week, you stumbled upon him in his office, listening to vintage vinyl records. While you had seen his collection of records before, stacked high alongside old books and artwork, but seeing him simply sitting and listening to the music was a new experience altogether.

He didn't even notice your presence when you walked in that day. He sat completely motionless, staring at the wall, and you later realized he was listening to a Johnny Cash record. You discovered this when you peeked into his office hours after he had already left.

Your curiosity got the best of you as you couldn't help but wonder why Vash kept resetting the needle to listen to that one particular record. You were determined to find out which song it was, and it turned out to be a tune called "You're My Sunshine."

You had yet to share with him what you had witnessed that day, as you didn't want to disturb his comfort in his own space. However, some of you wanted to unravel his past, uncover both the good and bad aspects, and lay bare all the secrets so you could be done with it because you believed your imagination posed a greater threat than any of his hidden truths.

But you were not sure how to make that happen. He wasn't exactly known for his communication skills.

The previous night, you had feigned sleep as you watched him enter the room, cautiously lighting a small lampshade to avoid waking you up. He silently took a seat at the table, unloading his firearm and arranging the golden bullets on a cloth. He leaned over and cracked open the window slightly, hoping to dissipate the scent of gunpowder, but the bold wind had other plans. It audaciously swept in and playfully tousled his golden locks, eliciting a bittersweet smile from you that carried a tinge of pain. Yes, even smiling hurt. But witnessing him find solace was a rarity; now, you were fortunate enough to experience it twice.

With a revolver clutched in his gloved hand, he diligently used a bore snake to clean the barrel. You recognized the process because, when your father still had remnants of his humanity, he had taught you how to assist him in maintaining his firearm. However, you were only a child back then, unaware that cleaning the gun meant he had likely used it to take someone's life.

Men and their guns. They all use them for destruction, and the man before you had even used it to make you—

As the old memory resurfaced, a blend of anger and shameful emotions welled up, stinging the back of your eyes. You closed your eyes tightly, unwilling to witness Vash's sinful ritual any longer.

As you glanced around the dim room, your sleep-riddled eyes scanned from the couch to the shadows cast by the furniture. The filtered sunlight seeping through the covered windows faintly illuminated the space. Amidst the shadows, a phantom-like silhouette took shape that wasn't there, with light blond hair, chilling green eyes, and a mole beneath the right eye—a vicious ghost.

Your grandmother used to say that if you dwell on the thought of the devil long enough, he will appear at your doorstep.

The floorboards made a creaking sound to your right, seemingly originating from somewhere in the bedroom. Your head swiftly turned in that direction, and you took a sudden, sharp breath. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end like a frightened dog backed into a corner. You held your breath, being cautious not to make any noise in case the sound repeated. Silence enveloped the room, an eerie stillness. Your fingers tightly gripped the duvet on your lap as your heart raced faster.

There was an intruder in the room. But how? How the fuck did Knives manage to evade the guards again?

After another creak, a distinct footstep echoed through the room. You cautiously rose from the bed, but as you stood up, a wave of dizziness nearly caused you to fall. You managed to grab onto the side of the bed, trying to steady your spinning head.

You made your way over slowly, masking the nausea coursing through your body. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, breaths coming in quick succession. With measured steps, you pressed your back against the cold wall. Despite your attempts, a trembling breath managed to escape. Your chest heaved as you took rapid, shallow breaths while the echoing footsteps reverberated from an unfamiliar location.

You stood frozen, your back melding into the wall as if you were one with it, rendering you immobile and unable to hide. However, you refused to become a victim once more. Determined, you knew you had to find a sharp object. With urgency, you sprinted towards the wooden nightstand by the bed, frantically rummaging through the drawers in search of a knife, a gun, or any means of defense.

But you suddenly stopped.

One of the drawers contained a collection of origami made from napkins, which you had previously crafted. It struck you as odd that Vash had kept these seemingly insignificant origami pieces while discarding the plates he used to bring you donuts.

With hands trembling, you shut the drawer and turned your attention elsewhere in search of a weapon. However, in your state of unease, you accidentally collided head-on with something solid.

Something human.

Male.

You heard him sharply inhale, felt his hands stabilize your body, and sensed the blood draining from your face, leaving you weak and lightheaded.

"Vash," you exclaimed, struggling to catch your breath. You went through the familiar motions, just as you always did. Your heart skipped a beat, then raced uncontrollably, your breath became shallow, and your palms grew sweaty. No matter how many times you encountered him, he consistently evoked the same response from you: a mix of fear and excitement. You couldn't quite explain why it excited you.

Something had to be amiss with you. It wasn't ordinary for fiery warmth to surge through your veins in such conditions, leaving a tingle in its wake.

He refused to release his grip on you. You could hear the rapid, forceful thumping of his heart in the quiet space between you. He remained incredibly still and tense as if he were struggling to maintain control over his own body.

Your heart was giving out. "It was you—"

"What are you searching for?" he whispered, his words strained as if he struggled to breathe. His eyes, an unusual shade of blue, captured your attention even in the darkness—they were stunning, crystal clear, and had a penetrating quality that was somewhat unsettling. His hair was thick, a lustrous hue of gold, and his physique appeared slender and unassuming, yet his grip conveyed effortless strength.

"I thought someone was in the—" you trailed off, abruptly stopping your words. Vash stood before you, clad in nothing but a towel. A TOWEL! The embarrassment swept over you, and you wished you could simply disappear, perhaps even roll under the bed to avoid the awkwardness.

The voice you heard came from him. He had just stepped out of the shower, appearing as if he had hurriedly done so because of you. Water droplets cascaded from the tips of his hair onto his shoulder blades, trickling down towards his chest and well-defined abdominal muscles.

Vash maintained a deliberately neutral expression, his voice unaffected as he assured, "He won't return to this house again."

For a brief moment, it was hard to fathom that you were still standing there, gazing at Vash, who was wearing nothing but a towel. It wasn't easy to take the situation, or even yourself, seriously.

"You kept those origamis."

There it was. A flash of anger. In and out. Vash's eyes flickered with intensity, then settled. He shifted his gaze towards the wall, remaining silent for a moment. "Yes," he murmured, his voice calm and composed.

"I didn't intend to rummage through your belongings."

He said nothing.

"I was searching for something sharp to defend myself against the person hiding in the room." The words slipped effortlessly from your mouth. What surprised you even more was the need to vocalize them, to reassure Vash that you hadn't invaded his privacy.

"I couldn't care less if you get bored and snoop around my stuff," he stated dismissively, walking past you without making eye contact. "My mother used to craft origami. They reminded me of her." His voice was chillingly cold. You observed as he opened the drawer, clutching the towel around his waist with one hand, and crushed all the origami in his wet fist. " But she's dead now, so it holds no significance anymore." With that, he returned to the bathroom and flushed them down the toilet right before your astonished eyes.

You couldn't quite understand why you felt a pang of hurt, considering those napkin origamis held no particular significance to you. However, witnessing him collect and preserve them in the drawer beside his bed stirred something tender in your heart. Unfortunately, as always, you couldn't shut up and ended up ruining the moment.

However, you were now aware. This man would go to any lengths to eliminate anything that could be perceived as a weakness.

He emerged from the bathroom and proceeded towards his walk-in closet, disregarding your gaze. You continued to watch him as he dropped his towel, exposing his bare buttocks to your view. You gulped as a hot sensation enveloped you, and your eyes shamelessly roamed from his butt cheeks to the muscles of his thighs, finally settling on his calves.

Who did sculpt this man?

 Vash had everything going for him in the looks department. He was hot as sin, with a stunning body and killer charm. You almost drool, but when he caught you stealing a glance, you hastily averted your gaze, pretending to be engrossed in the fantastic sheets.

Sheets? Seriously? Huh!

"You know, it's pretty rude to be snooping on people, love."

Embarrassment flooded your face, heating your cheeks, as you were caught in such a juvenile act. Suddenly, you felt utterly clueless about what to do with your hands. Your thoughts raced, overtaken by self-reproach. What the heck was wrong with you? The overwhelming urge to hide and disappear consumed you. You sprinted to the bathroom, securing the door with two locks. Leaning against the door, you slid down until you sat on the cool, black-tiled bathroom floor.

Stop grinning, stupid girl!

*

Another day in the never-ending circus of misery.

The gentle afternoon sunbeams lazily brushed against your cheeks, almost as if teasing you. Squinting your eyes, you peered out the window. It was chilly outside, yet the usual forecast of rain seemed absent for the day. The Gods above were like twisted demons, mocking you by making such a gloomy day appear this beautiful.

Ugh! Why—

No!

Wait a damn minute!

Vash stood in the yard, and you were aware of this because you could see him from behind the curtain. He wore a tailor-made shirt that hugged his figure, a black shade so deep that it nearly dazzled. His shoulders were embraced by a charcoal gray coat, fifty shades darker than coal, while his golden spiked hair contrasted the somber autumn surroundings. Black pants adorned his legs, accompanied by black leather gloves and matte black boots.

He appeared flawless, particularly amidst the grimness of the dirt and decay, encompassed by the dreariest hues this scenery could present. He stood as a striking figure, his eyes adorned in shades of deep blue and turquoise, casting a captivating silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun in a stunningly beguiling manner.

He could be glowing.

That could be a halo around his head.

This could be the world's way of making an example out of irony.

Vash possessed a beauty that surpassed even your most attractive ex-partner. He was far from being human; every aspect of him was extraordinary and unconventional.

He looked around, his eyes shielded by purple round sunglasses, and a gust of wind momentarily revealed the holster strapped to his right leg as his coat flapped open. He didn't even step into his own yard without his gun. The irony!

The men surrounding him appeared to be awaiting instructions, anticipating something, and you couldn't tear your eyes away. A strange thrill coursed through you, being in such proximity yet still distant. It felt like an advantage, being able to observe him unnoticed.

He was a strange, strange, unhinged man. You weren't sure if you could ever forget what he had done to you, the way he had made you feel, and the intense desire to bring harm upon him. The urge to despise him indefinitely lingered within you, but it was gradually weakening. He had abducted you, callously exposing you to danger, and vanished while his brother subjected you to repeated torment. Yet, he also took it upon himself to mend the shattered fragments afterward, carefully gathering and reassembling them—as janky as it was. You wanted to harbor hatred towards him but found yourself at a loss as to how to do so anymore.

You had no clue about who he truly was—actually, you never had much knowledge regarding how he spent his days unless he was in your company. Even now, you remained clueless about his purpose for being there.

He eventually uttered a few words to the men, and they nodded in swift agreement before running around. You retreated entirely behind the curtains, making sure to stay hidden. You positioned yourself at an angle, ensuring he wouldn't catch sight of you even if he happened to glance in your direction.

Vash removed his glasses and ran his hand across his face, briefly covering his eyes before his hand settled on his mouth as though he held something he couldn't bring himself to say.

Suddenly, he seemed tired. His eyes appeared somewhat … sorrowful, although you were convinced you were just reading him wrong. You observed him as he observed those around him, paying close attention to notice that his gaze lingered on the red Geranium flowers, fighting to survive in the harsh weather. You attempted to decipher Vash's expression as he stared at them, but he was always careful to keep himself completely neutral. He remained like a statue in the wind, doing nothing more than blinking.

A stray dog headed straight toward him. Suddenly, fear gripped you. You felt concerned for the poor creature, a weak little animal that had mistakenly wandered into the wrong place, searching for morsels of food to stave off hunger for a few more hours.

Your heart began racing in your chest, pumping blood too quickly and forcefully. A sense of impending doom washed over you, leaving you with an unexplainable feeling that something dreadful was on the horizon.

The black dog dashed straight into the back of Vash's legs as if it had impaired vision and couldn't see its path clearly. It panted heavily, its tongue hanging to the side, seemingly unsure how to retract it. The dog whined and whimpered slightly, leaving saliva all over Vash's impeccably fine pants. You held your breath, anxiously awaiting as the golden man turned around.

You half expected he might draw his gun and shoot the dog directly in the head, having witnessed him do such a thing to a person before. However, upon seeing the dog, Vash's countenance underwent a transformation. His flawless facade fractured, revealing cracks in his otherwise perfect demeanor. Surprise elevated his eyebrows and widened his eyes if only for a fleeting moment, providing you with ample opportunity to take note of it.

He looked around, his eyes shifting as they surveyed his surroundings before he gently scooped the animal into his arms. You felt a sudden desperation to witness his next actions, and your anxiety heightened, making it difficult to catch your breath.

You had witnessed the extent of Vash's capabilities when it came to harming another person. You had observed his callous heart, his emotionless eyes, and his complete indifference. His composed and collected demeanor remained unshaken even after he took a life without hesitation. Now, you could only speculate about what he might have in store for an innocent dog.

You felt an urgent need to witness it firsthand. You had to dispel the notion of him being a good person from your mind, and this was the perfect opportunity. It would serve as evidence that he was sick, corrupted, completely in the wrong, and would forever remain so.

You had to see what he was going to do to the helpless animal when a familiar voice called out from behind you, causing you to freeze in your tracks.

"Having an absolute blast, aren't we?" Bradd remarked sarcastically. "This room conveniently provides the ideal windows for our top-notch boss surveillance operations."

You quickly turned your head, giving him a sharp glare. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and shrugged nonchalantly upon noticing your reaction. He proceeded, "I knocked on the door multiple times. However, it seems you were so absorbed in your mission that you didn't notice, and I had to come in without an invitation."

Bradd moved until he stood beside you, and his presence tightened the knot forming in your stomach. T There was an ice-cold fortress shrouded around him, as palpable as the tension in his shoulders. It felt as though he was creating a distance between you, as if you were about to be sent off to war, and he believed he would never see you again.

On certain days, you resented him for assisting the twins, but deep down, you couldn't deny the truth that he was a good man. He had become your emotional support in recent months, and you had started to understand his character. He belonged to the category of men who prioritized only their own family, and anything beyond that circle? Held no significance to him.

At the moment, you were an outsider who had disrupted their usual order, akin to a parasite, just as he had described.

You turned your head, and your eyes widened at the sight of Vash crouching on the ground, using his hands to feed something to the dog. The trembling, bony body of the animal was nestled inside Vash's open coat, seeking warmth after enduring the cold for so long. The dog wagged its tail vigorously, briefly making eye contact with Vash before diving back into the cozy refuge of his coat. You heard Vash laugh, a sound you had rarely witnessed. It was a laughter that seemed to transform him into a completely different person, the kind of laugh that put stars in his eyes and dazzled his lips.

You realized you had never seen this side of him before. You had never glimpsed his teeth, so impeccably straight and white, an embodiment of perfection.

A flawless, flawless exterior for a man with a black, black heart.

It was almost inconceivable that the person you were staring at had blood on his hands. He looked soft and vulnerable—so human. His eyes squinted from his wide grin, and his rosy cheeks bore the marks of the chilly weather. Even his dimples were visible, adding to his overall charm.

He was undeniably the most breathtaking sight you had ever encountered. And yet, you wished you had never laid eyes on him, for something within your heart was tearing apart at the seams. You struggled to comprehend the image before you, as you desperately needed him to be wicked so you could revert to hating him. However, he defied your expectations. You didn't want to see Vash like this. It felt wrong, yet in some inexplicable way, it also felt right.

You believed that the revelations had ended, but you were mistaken once again. This realization left you pondering the extent of what remained unknown and how much more you would discover about Vash in the days and months ahead.

And it scared you.

Because the more you uncovered about him, you found fewer excuses to distance yourself from him. The image you once had of him was transforming right in front of your eyes, becoming something that terrified you in ways you never could've expected. Amid so much uncertainty, all you could think was that it wasn't the right time. It wasn't the right place. Not when there were still so many problems around.

If only your emotions could grasp the significance of perfect timing.

You released a sigh, frustrated with your own indecisiveness. Although you couldn't ignore your physical attraction towards him, you struggled to let go of your initial perception of his character. It wasn't easy for you to abruptly shift your perspective and view him as anything other than a manipulative monster. You required time to adapt to the idea of accepting Vash as a normal human.

"The dog," Bradd interrupted, returning you to the present. "Nicholas used to take care of that dog, but we hadn't seen her around for quite some time until a few days ago," Bradd explained. "Seems like Angelica has taken a liking to Vash as well." Bradd glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and you found yourself perplexed, trying to comprehend why he continued to smile at you even after he averted his gaze. Flustered and feeling strangely embarrassed, you scrambled to find something to say.

"Is there anything you need from me?" you inquired, keeping your gaze fixed on Vash as he affectionately rubbed the dog's head and chuckled, trying to avoid eye contact with Bradd.

"Hm?"

You shifted your attention to Bradd. "You're here. Did you come for small talk?"

"Oh," Bradd responded, scratching the back of his neck while sporting a smile. The creases forming at the corners of his lips and eyes revealed his age. You wondered whether he had a family and if they were aware of his association with mafia freaks.

"I came to see how you're doing and to let you know that Vash wants to meet you in the living room. If you need to change, I'll wait here to accompany you. I know you've likely become familiar with the layout of this house through your very successful attempts to flee, but I still want to ensure you don't wander into the wrong rooms," he said, winking.

You bit your tongue to refrain from responding with more sarcasm than his.

*

Vash couldn't hide his surprise when he walked into the living room. As you glanced up, you finished the remaining Vodka in your glass. "Apologies for once again getting into your alcohol," you said to him, and he blinked in response.

"You're feeling better."

You nodded over your shoulder. "I was thirsty, and the drinks were there while you ran late."

"Yes," he replied, speaking slowly and cautiously.

"So I had a few shots."

"I can tell," Vash remarked, remaining stationary near the stairs, his gaze fixed upon you. He didn't utter a word but slowly advanced into the living room, removing his coat and delicately placing it over an armchair. He retrieved a gun from his holster and another from his back, deliberately positioning them on the table beside your empty vodka glass.

"I want to hurt your brother, Vash Saverem," you blurted out abruptly. It startled you to realize how much you had transformed over the past few months. You felt like an entirely different person—more audacious, hardened, and, for the first time, willing to acknowledge your anger. It was a liberating experience.

"Are you—" he shook his head, then apologized, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

You looked up, feeling the weight of Vash's stare. He appeared captivated as if intrigued by your words. If he didn't fully grasp your meaning, you were prepared to express it differently. "I need revenge," you stated firmly, or that's what you thought.

He took a seat and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and intertwining his hands. A wide, amused grin spread across his face, radiating a genuine sincerity that struck you like thunder. Something pricked at your eyes and weakened your knees. "How do you plan to accomplish that, love?"

"I've got plans."

"Is that so?" He leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, and couldn't help but maintain a constant smile.

"Yes," you replied, growing increasingly irritated. Vash didn't seem to be taking you seriously, likely attributing your seriousness to being drunk. While you were indeed drunk, you were also very, very serious.

Vash waited, observing your annoyed expression, and nodded once, signaling you to continue.

A familiar, intoxicating buzz settled in your stomach, amplified by the alcohol swirling within your empty belly. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, and your mouth felt parched as if you had swallowed sand. "Your brother—"

"You can't even speak his name yet talk about revenge?"

You attempted to conceal your surprise, but now you found yourself uncertain why you hesitated to utter his name. Perhaps it was because you feared that he would suddenly materialize, much like summoning a devil by speaking his name.

You slid your empty glass towards Vash, indicating that you wanted him to refill it. Vash glanced at you, and what looked like concern was clouded in his pretty eyes.

"If you want me to mention his name, hand me the bottle," you declared, snatching the vodka bottle from his grasp before taking a large gulp. The taste made your face contort, reaffirming your belief that alcohol tasted like shit when it wasn't mixed with something. You'd die on that hill. However, you did appreciate the burning sensation as it traveled down your throat, spreading warmth throughout your body.

"Knives," you said the name, taking a deep breath. Remembering the adage that fear of a name only heightens fear of the thing itself, you decided to defy that fear. So fuck him and his name! "Are you content now?"

He let out a snort. "Do you honestly believe that you can simply stroll out of this room," Vash said to you, "knock on Knives' door and shoot him in the head?"

Yes. "No."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Vash said softly, and you glared at him. "My brother isn't here," Vash continued. "He's gone to deal with a business complication elsewhere."

"He's not here?" you questioned.

"No," Vash responded, his smile fading. "And that's precisely why I wanted to speak with you." He picked up a larger glass from the table and poured himself a whole serving of Bourbon, likely his preferred drink. He downed the bitter liquor in a single gulp, then refilled the glass. He pressed the glass against his lips with his gaze fixed on you. "I need you to be gone until he returns," he said, closing his eyes as he swallowed the entire contents of the glass.

"What?" Your heart picked up so quickly that you thought you might be experiencing a heart attack.

"You heard what I said."

"No," you declared, shaking your head. It's often said that you can't repeat the same mistake twice; for the second time, it becomes a choice rather than a mistake. Therefore, this was your decision.

"Bradd will help you. It's up to you whether you want to return to your father's house or forge a new path for yourself. If you opt for the latter, I'm ready to offer my support—"

"I JUST TOLD YOU I WANT TO GET MY REVENGE!"

"How?" Vash scrutinized you intently. "How do you plan to reach my twin? How will you confront him?"

"I already told you I have plans!" you exclaimed, clenching your fists. "But I require your help," you whispered, filled with both fear and a glimmer of hope. You caught Vash's gaze from across the table. "What if I exploit Knives' vulnerability?" you asked, raising your eyebrow slightly.

"That seems unlikely."

"Why do you think that?" you said, feeling desperate. "Even if there's the slightest chance—"

Vash sighed and ran his hand through his hair, disheveling his perfectly spiked hair. "He doesn't have any weaknesses. If there were any, I would have discovered them long ago. You wouldn't be making such statements if you knew him like I do. Hope will only break your heart all over again."

You dug your nails into the leather that you feared it might rip. However, you resisted the urge. You were well aware of the threats you had heard and your chosen path. "I am an outsider," you found yourself saying. "Maybe I can perceive things more clearly than you—"

"Love—"

"Dammit, Vash! I have to give it a shot. You have to understand—"

"This is not good for you," he avoided eye contact. "It's dangerous for you to believe anyone could harm Knives."

You stared at his resolute and unwavering profile while he focused on his hands. "In the worst-case scenario, I might end up dead. You have nothing to lose, so why won't you allow me to pursue it?" you whispered.

He rubbed his forehead. "I have numerous conflicts to deal with in the coming days," he said, his voice tense. "I have meetings to attend and negotiations with people even worse than my family." He took a deep breath, the air feeling constricted. A weighty silence hung between you. "I understand that you are now afraid of even your own shadow," he continued, his voice filled with concern. "You struggle to sleep, and I know my presence makes you uncomfortable. However, I can't leave you alone anymore. I've lost my trust in Knives. So, I'm granting you your freedom once again. But this time, I'll ensure you truly are leaving. I'm making this decision for your well-being."

"Oh." A pause. Was he sleeping on the uncomfortable couch because he was worried about you?

"Yes," he said—another pause.

"Or," you said to him, "I remain here, and you use me for whatever plan you have involving my father—"

"I don't have any plans regarding that," Vash replied melancholic.

"Fortunately for you, I have made plans, and in exchange, you will allow me to seek revenge against your brother, I mean Knives. I am prepared to face the consequences on my own."

Vash fought a smile but couldn't hold it back. He glanced downward, letting out a small laugh, before locking eyes with you. He shook his head.

"What's so funny?"

"My lovely girl."

"What?"

"I've been waiting for this moment for quite a while now."

"What do you mean?"

"You're finally ready," he remarked. "You're finally ready to fight back."

Shock surged through you. "Of course I am," you replied. In an instant, memories of the unbearable pain and the horrifying fear of being brutally attacked flooded your mind. You hadn't forgotten any of it, but you realized that if you wanted to find peace, you needed to momentarily set aside your animosity toward Vash. Because now that you were prepared to fight, you felt a sense of empowerment like never before. You marveled at how different you felt and how different you knew things could be. You had a lot of things to do, so many scores to settle, and a big revenge to exact.

Everything had changed. The child you once were had succumbed to her foolishness. It was your turn to engage in this game on your terms, and you were not afraid of cheating.

No matter what lay ahead, there was no going back for you now. There were no other choices. "I forge forward or die."

Vash burst into laughter, his expression bordering like he might cry.

"I will cause hurt to your brother," you declared, "and I will make sure he learns not to threaten me."

He was still smiling.

"I will."

"I know," he said.

"Then why are you laughing at me?" you asked, puzzled.

"I'm not," he said softly. "I'm just wondering," he said, "if you would like my assistance."

"What? You agree with—" You blinked rapidly, unable to believe what you just heard.

"There are three things you should know about me, love," he said, leaning his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers. "First," he began, "I hate my brother more than you could comprehend." He cleared his throat. "Second, I am unapologetically self-centered and make decisions primarily based on my interests in nearly every situation. And third," he paused, looking down and chuckling softly, "I believe death would be a reward for despicable people like me or your father." He lifted his head. "I've always told you," Vash said, "that we would make an exceptional team. From the moment we met, I've been waiting for you to be ready to acknowledge your anger and strength. I've been waiting patiently all this time."

"That's why you wanted to use me to hurt my father?"

"Does that bother you?"

Your jaw dropped. "What? Of course, it bothers me! Wouldn't it bother you?"

"No," he said casually. "I would feel honored to have assisted."

Words eluded you. You couldn't tell if it was the influence of alcohol or a newfound courage that ignited within you, urging you to let your inner fire scorch others as well. "If that's the case," you declared, your gaze fixed on Vash's face, "then I want to bestow an honor upon you, Mr. Savrem."

He raised an eyebrow. "You want to use me?"

"Yep," you exclaimed, emphasizing the P. "We can hit two birds with one stone."

Vash took hold of his glass and reclined against the couch, looking at you as though he no longer recognized you. Good. When something is subjected to intense pressure, it becomes distorted. It forms sharp edges that can inflict deep wounds.

He lightly tapped his finger against the crystal, and the sound reverberated through the quiet living room. The crackling of the fireplace was the only other sound present.

Vash crossed one leg over the other. "Elaborate," he demanded.

"Do you—like, do you just like men?"

"Why? Are you trying to seduce me?" Vash asked in a relaxed manner, drawing your focus toward him as he sipped his Bourbon and peered at you over the rim of his glass.

His gaze was probing and studious, yet you offered no reaction. Your facial muscles remained steadfast as you replied, "That's what you desire, isn't it?"

A sly grin appeared on Vash's face, accentuated by the dim lighting and the flickering shadows, giving him a sinister look. However, you didn't even flinch in response. He no longer had the power to intimidate you. You had witnessed him kneeling before you.

"Is this a part of your grand plan?"

"Yes," you replied, contemplating how you wished you had a bigger mouth to accommodate more alcohol. It was essential to muster courage for what you were about to say.

"Nothing will hurt my dad more than seeing everyone talk about his beloved daughter fucking his enemy. And about your brother," you stated, taking a deep breath. You couldn't believe those words had come from your mouth. Your ears grew warm, but you had to press on because Vash didn't even flinch and needed him to take you seriously. "He has a vulnerability, and it's you," you continued, and he lowered his glass, tilting his head to the side as his eyebrows furrowed. Encouraged, you pressed forward, "He cut me because he believed you cared for me, and I am growing in you." You let out a mocking laugh, "So, you are his weakness. He doesn't want to share his little brother, and I want to do the exact opposite."

"You didn't tell me anything about this detail."

"There was no reason for you to be aware of it then. However, now I want you to pretend that you have succumbed to my seduction. I know you are skilled at acting, so it shouldn't pose a challenge for you," you said, taking another swig and wincing at the burning.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I can't fuck you," he stated, finishing the remainder of his whiskey.

The words felt unpleasant on your tongue, but you forced them out anyway. "I don't want a relationship, and If you are interested in the buttholes—"

"For fuck's sake! I've been with women as well. So, let's put an end to this discussion about holes!"

"So, if you're not exclusively interested in men, what's holding you back?" you rushed out. He tilted his head, patiently waiting. "From fucking me," you stated plainly. "You didn't hold back before. What's preventing you now?"

He remained quiet for a moment. "Because I couldn't bear the guilt," he whispered, gazing at you contemplatively. "If it were to happen again, the outcome would be vastly different — you're already aware of that."

You folded your arms. "Would it, though?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "Do you think if I were to pin you against a wall, you would resist initially only to succumb to pleasure eventually? Or do you think you would fight as if your life depended on it, only to end up mentally checking out from the trauma?"

You swallowed, the truth leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

"I will never claim to be a good, kind, or even honorable man. There is little of that left in me, and the truth is, it was never truly there to start with. I was born with a blackened soul. However, there is a distinction between those who are needlessly evil and those who do wrong in the hopes of achieving something good. I'll leave it up to you to decide which category I fall into."

You realized you didn't need to think about it at all. Trauma had a tight hold on you, but all you wanted Vash to do was hold you tighter.

You downed the remaining Vodka in a single gulp, relishing in the burn as it traveled down your throat. The clock ticked, approaching eight PM. It was the perfect timing since the household staff would soon be present to serve dinner. Why not put on a performance for them? You were confident that at least one of them would discreetly inform Knives about everything.

Adrenaline got steadily released into your bloodstream, akin to injecting heroin into a vein. Rising to your feet, you approached Vash, causing his muscles to tense up as you parted his crossed legs and settled onto his lap. Almost subconsciously, his hand swiftly grasped your waist to hold you. No matter how much he pretended otherwise, it was clear that men were all the same. Their dicks dictated their every decision.

"You'll end up getting hurt," he cautioned, his voice taking on a deeper tone as the words slipped out quietly and deliberately.

" Maybe I need another pain to wash away the one I'm experiencing now," you stated, unreservedly running your hand between your legs, provocatively stroking his crotch through his pants, all while maintaining unwavering eye contact with him.

He took a deep breath. "You're toying with fire," he croaked, shifting his gaze from your face to your hand resting on his groin.

"Then let your flames consume me, Vash," you urged, intensifying the pressure of your hand against the fabric. "Imagine the retribution we will exact upon the men who ruined us."

He tightly shut his eyes, tilting his head back as his lips parted. You reached out and touched him once more, this time with gentle tenderness. You felt his thumb caressing your side. Good.

You wished for Knives to witness this moment, wanting to prove something to the deluded man who thought he owned you. The only person with the right to claim your body was the one you granted permission to. You would allow Vash's hands to explore every inch of your skin, followed by the touch of his mouth. You would let his tongue lick your pussy until you were sated, right before he fucked you until you no longer knew your name.

You would let him because you said he could.

Vash drew you closer, pressing his body against yours and pinning your breasts against his chest. Your breath faltered as you felt the warmth surround you, his arm encircling your waist tightly, firmly locking you in place.

You liked the way he felt pressed against you. The softness of your body molded against the hard ridges of his. It felt... pleasant. Satisfying.

"We can handle this, Vash. Approach it like a business," you whispered in his ear, sensing his breath leaving him and his heart pounding against your chest.

Vash locked eyes with you briefly, and as you leaned in to kiss him, he placed his forefinger on your lips. "No need for kisses. This is not about making love. It's strictly business," he asserted.

As you were about to part your lips to speak, you were interrupted by his soft lips gliding rhythmically against your neck, reminiscent of water swaying the rocks beneath a cliff. A moan rose from your throat, and you immediately grasped the back of his neck, urging him to press his head closer to your skin.

He emitted a low, primal growl, his self-control slipping away. His other hand entwined itself in your hair, adjusting the angle of your head to gain better access. He sank his teeth into your flesh, skillfully exploring with an unrestrained fervor.

You clung to him tightly, pressing further into him. Shuddering with the feel of his hard cock digging into your stomach, his size only fueling your desire. He wasn't small, and that was precisely what you craved tonight. Something that would silence Knives' voice with pleasure, leaving you breathless and thoroughly gratified.

His tongue wrestled with your collarbones, skillfully swiping and lapping while his teeth playfully nipped at them. Another moan slipped free, bouncing in the air until he matched it with his groan.

The grip on your hair tightened, tilting your head back, allowing his lips to roam freely along the sensitive area where your neck and shoulder met.

You gasped as his teeth grazed your skin, a subtle warning before he sank them in. The sharp pleasure rolled your eyes to the back of your head, followed by a long moan.

"Fuck," he cursed, his tongue flicking against your neck as he emitted a primal groan. "That voice drives me wild."

You felt your eyelids flutter as you succumbed to the pleasure his tongue and teeth were drawing out of you. His hands ventured lower, and soon, you felt a firm tug on your jeans. The button popped open in seconds, accompanied by the low purr of your zipper being undone.

On a low growl, Vash inquired, "Is your pussy wet for me like before, love?" as he playfully nipped at your neck. It stung a little, causing you to wince in response to the slight pain. However, his tongue glided over the bite mark, soothing the sting.

"Yes," you whispered, pleasure overpowering the lingering pain. His hand smoothly slid down the front of your jeans and underwear, his fingers gradually moving lower until the tip of his middle finger teasingly dipped inside you.

A low, guttural growl arose from you as he realized how truthful you were being. "Fuck, love, that's it. If you want our plan to succeed, you need to be louder. Don't you want everyone to know we're fucking?"

Suddenly, two fingers delved inside you, skillfully curling to hit that sweet spot. Your vision blurred, and a scream of pleasure erupted from your lips, becoming your sole response. It was the only thing you could do at that moment.

With instinct, you tilted your hips, grinding against his hand. He withdrew his fingers partially before driving them back into you again. And again, until he fucked you with his fingers, leaving you with nothing to do but hold on tightly, your nails digging into his shirt.

You let out long, husky moans that emanated from your throat, obediently filling the space precisely as he had requested.

"You certainly know how to make a scene," he whispered into your ear, punctuating his words with a sharp nip. The heel of his palm pressed firmly against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. With his skilled fingers, he elevated your arousal, causing the orgasm to coil deep in your stomach. Then, he rubbed you just right, causing your knees to quake from the intense pleasure.

"Oh," you moaned, your breath coming in irregular, breathless gasps.

In a dark whisper, he asked, "Will you scream when you come on my hand, love?"

You thought you nodded, but you couldn't be sure, for in a matter of seconds, your head jerked backward as your climax escalated, building up to an intense peak.

"Let me hear it," he encouraged. His fingers glided out, only to plunge back in, this time with the addition of a third finger.

You bit your lip as you tumbled over the edge. A cry rushed out, the sound wavering in pitch as deep-seated pleasure engulfed you. Shamelessly, you pressed against his hand, surrendering to the relentless waves of ecstasy.

"So vindictive," he murmured, his voice tinged with satisfaction. Breathless yet possessing a heightened hunger, he took out his hand and lightly brushed it against your lower lip, spreading your arousal. "You've made quite a mess on my hand, love. It would be rude not to clean it up."

While maintaining eye contact, your tongue darted out, the tip sliding across his finger. He smiled wickedly, prompting you to open your mouth wider. Soon, you tasted your own familiar flavor, but it didn't last long as he withdrew his fingers and licked the remainder himself. You never expected such a simple and primal act to make you ache for him even more than you already did.

His hot breath tickled against your face, causing a shiver to run down your spine. As you closed your eyes, you couldn't help but bite your lip when you felt his hands slip into your shirt.

"Vash," you said in a hushed, breathless voice. His warm breath caressed your neck as he leaned in closer. Gentle lips delicately grazed the edge of your ear. Like a cascading waterfall, a torrent of chills raced down your back.

"You're such a good, obedient girl," he remarked. The aroma of smoke mingled with hints of mint and wood enveloped you. The thought of him being delicious and the desire to have him in your mouth crossed your mind.

As if reading your mind, he reached up and placed his hand on the back of your head, his fingers entwining in your hair and drawing you impossibly closer. In a moment of impulse, you did something foolish. You drew his lower lip into your mouth, savoring the taste of him and the feel of his lips against yours. Suddenly aware of your behavior, you let go of his lip, attempting to pull away.

He was like a drug, and similar to the actual substance, he led you to make idiotic decisions.

He held onto you tightly, using his hand to press your forehead against his own forcefully. "I explicitly said no kissing. Right?" His grip on your hair was firm.

You nodded in response.

In return, his tongue traced your chin, descending towards your neck once more. You let out a soft, unintentional moan, and as soon as he noticed your body's response, he nibbled on your skin. He completely consumed you, sucking and licking your body in a way you'd never experienced.

He was leaving hickeys all over your skin, and you found yourself powerless to resist him, just as you were powerless to deny the pleasure that ran through your veins. Another low growl pinged through his mouth, serving as a mere indication of his following action.

He gripped your waist and lifted you. "You're such a good fucking girl," he praised, leaning against your chest before biting your breasts through your shirt and bra. He held you against the wall, his body pressing tightly against yours.

Gasping for air, your feet touched the ground as you struggled to hold up your head, desperately inhaling precious oxygen. He firmly held your cheeks with his large hand, growling against you.

You inserted your hands between your bodies, traveling towards his muscled stomach and firm chest. With force, you roughly pushed him away.

"Wait, please stop," you gasped, feeling a haze of confusion clouding your mind. The heat of the moment had left your pussy pulsating and your senses overwhelmed.

"What did I tell you?" he demanded with a sharp tone. His piercing blue eyes locked onto yours, captivating you in a hypnotic grip. It was difficult to avert your gaze when you felt like a helpless prey entrapped by the eyes of a predator.

"What?" you whispered, still feeling lightheaded.

"You're toying with fire," he reiterated slowly, his voice rough with gravel. Your mouth opened, but the words remained trapped, unable to get out.

His lips brushed against your cheek, tracing a path along your jawline. "Think about the prying eyes behind these walls. Let's stick to your original plan and provide them with something to gossip about," he concluded, punctuating his words with a sharp nip on your earlobe. Your body reacted, arching involuntarily as sweat drops formed on your skin. " I know you want me."

"No," you denied in a whisper. "You're wrong."

He raised his head, a smug smirk gracing his lips. "So, you're going to be a bad girl tonight? Lie to my face and act like your pussy isn't aching to be filled up with my cock?"

A flush of heat spread across your cheeks, a blend of anger and embarrassment. "Not everything revolves around physical attraction," you retorted after a moment. "Maybe my body wants you, but up here," you tapped your temple, "it's a different story."

He nodded slowly, studying your face with a pensive gaze. Stepping back, he left you feeling a sense of emptiness. It was akin to a dark veil encasing the sun on a scorching summer day—a sudden, chilling coldness that seeped into your bones.

He seized your hand and yanked you away from the wall. He twirled you around until you stood in front of one of the mirrors next to the fireplace. You watched him from the reflection as he pressed his body against yours, his warmth soaking into your very being. Your gaze fixated on the mirror, your eyes meeting and colliding through the glass.

He lowered himself gradually, bringing his mouth close to your ear, never breaking eye contact. "If you've had a change of heart, I won't push you into anything and will stop right now," he whispered in your ear, eliciting sparks throughout your nerve endings. His voice carried ominous promises and dangerous new beginnings.

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. The word "No" teetered on the edge of your tongue, like a delicate ballerina dancing precariously at the tip, dangerously close to falling off and breaking her ankle. Because if you said no to this man, you'd spend the rest of your night—week—possibly longer, regretting it.

As he desired, a sense of recklessness and impulsiveness descended upon you. All you yearned for was to surrender yourself to him. You were dying to deny him, yet you had to fight your body from turning and pulling him into you.

Perhaps, just this once, to piss off Knives, you considered giving in.

You rolled your lip between your teeth, and he watched you closely, studying every gesture as if trying to interpret a cryptic language concealed within the contours of your body.

"So you think it'll work?" you inquired, your voice husky and uneven. His mouth remained close to your ear while his gaze remained fixed on yours.

He nodded slowly, his expression serious and his gaze penetrating. "Yes, love," he whispered. You closed your eyes, resignation taking over your body. You couldn't deny the truth to yourself anymore. Even if he doubted the plan's success, you still wanted him to have you tonight.

Noticing the shift, he trailed his hand over your stomach. You stiffened under his touch, feeling goosebumps rising on your skin. His fingers gripped your shirt, gradually lifting it up, parting the material at a painful pace.

"Does it hurt you when I touch your scars?"

Your eyes widened. The man, bearing his own soul's fractures, would never perceive your scars as repulsive.

"Just get it over with," you snapped, frustration emanating from his intentionally slow progression.

A malicious grin appeared on his lips, and even the mirror couldn't diminish the cruelty behind it. "Poor little thing," he jeered. "You miss having a man inside you? Were your fingers not enough to satisfy you? Have you fantasized about me while touching yourself?"

With just a glance, he possessed an uncanny ability to steal the air from your lungs. When his words accompanied that piercing gaze, it felt like you had no lungs at all.

Your shirt fell to the ground.

"What if your men come in?" you whispered, your voice barely breaking through the palpable tension in the air.

He grinned—a mischievous smile that conveyed his indifference if someone did. "What do you think they'd do?" he asked, his fingertips lightly brushing against your scars.

Goosebumps emerged, a tangible reaction from the electricity dancing across your skin wherever his touch landed.

"Do you think they'd watch?" he asked. "Do you think they would relish the sight of your naked body? Maybe they would get off on witnessing your dripping pussy or the rise and fall of your chest as you climax. I even think they would delight in watching your eyes roll back when my cock fills you so fully you can't fit any more of me inside you."

A shot of fear jolted through your heart, forcing the muscle into overdrive. Yet, despite this, your body still reacted more illicitly. Just like his words, you felt a renewed throbbing between your legs.

Would you be comfortable with a stranger observing? You doubted it. But there was something about the way he described the scenario that made you wonder if he would allow it to occur regardless.

"Are you comfortable with others seeing us undressed?" you challenged, breathless while staring at your shirt on the wooden floor.

Vash's fingers traced along your spine, moving slowly and purposefully. Their touch felt scorching, like searing lava against your flesh.

"No," he murmured into your ear. You observed him as his gaze descended, fixating on your chest. The band of your bra tightened, pressing uncomfortably against your skin before loosening. The black cups that held your breasts released, leaving you fully exposed. Your nipples were painfully erect.

When he caught sight of your hardened peaks, his tongue drifted across his lower lip as if he was salivating at the sight. "Do you want to know what I would do?" he questioned. "I would allow them to watch. I would let them watch me fuck you. They would watch as my cock fills every one of your holes and watch you cry with intense orgasms. And then, I'd fucking kill them. With my cock still wet from your cum, I would slice their throats for daring to lay their eyes upon us."

The fear within you constricted, forming a sharp tip that seemed capable of bursting the fragile balloon of sanity you clung to.

"You're insane," you gasped.

This time, he chuckled, his deep laughter sending a shiver straight to the apex of your thighs. "You were aware of this, and yet you asked for it," he murmured absentmindedly.

His focus pulled away, and his hands explored your stomach, delicately tracing the lines of your scars as if he found them captivating. Eventually, he cupped your breasts, his large hands making them appear smaller, barely contained within his grasp. He was a monster. Inside and out. Yet, despite all logic, you couldn't ignore the fact that other than your panties, your jeans had become wholly soaked, too. It seemed impossible for the body to experience both hatred and desire simultaneously.

He forcefully squeezed your breasts, causing you to scream out of pain.

"Be a good girl and scream louder," he ordered before relinquishing his hold on your breasts and moving his hands towards your jeans. You were swamped by confusion and a sense of dread. You knew this was all so terribly wrong. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to stop him as he hooked his thumbs on either side, pulling your jeans down. First, he assisted you in removing your shoes and effortlessly slipped the jeans off, setting you completely free.

You remained clad only in your wet black panties. Swallowing hard, your heart raced as you surveyed your reflection. Vash, on the other hand, remained fully clothed, his eyes examining every angle of your undressed form. He looked as if he couldn't decide, unsure where to begin.

You resisted the impulse to cover yourself. The act of hiding felt more humiliating than standing nearly bare before an attractive man.

"You need to undress as well," you insisted. There was no way you were going to be the only one left vulnerable and exposed.

Finally, he came out from behind you and stood directly before you. It felt more real when you were not looking at them through a glass mirror. Yet, you couldn't pretend that your pussy wasn't weeping for him and that you were not anticipating the feel of him inside of you. You weren't a victim this time, as you were the mastermind behind this ill-advised situation.

"If you want that, love, then you'll have to be the one to do it," he declared with a raised voice. He regarded you skeptically as if he doubted your willingness to undress him. And there was no doubt in your mind he understood the effect that look had on you. The jerk was well aware of your inability to resist a challenge.

You reciprocated the same level of respect he had shown you. Slowly and delicately, you undressed him, purposefully grazing your fingers against his skin, earning your own shivers and growls of impatience.

You took off his shirt and stared at his scarred and rugged skin. His scars still caused him pain, evident by his reaction when your fingertips brushed over them, causing him to tense and bare his teeth. It wasn't physical pain; these scars had already healed. Yet, they resembled icebergs—seemingly formidable and commanding on the outside, yet concealing something far more significant and menacing beneath the surface. They had the power to sink someone to the depths of their darkest desires, much like the Titanic. These scars wounded him deeply within, and you were genuinely curious about the stories behind each one.

In the areas without scars, there were tattoos. The most notable tattoo was a giant maze extending from his neck to his right arm. You didn't know, but he had a few small tattoos here and there, too.

"You didn't cover any of your scars with tattoos," you quietly observed, running your finger along the maze lines. The tattoos intentionally avoided the raised skin, as if deliberately respecting the scars.

"I don't hide from my failures," he asserted. However, his physical beauty extended beyond his failures. His body was filled with well-defined muscles, strong without being too bulky. His physique made it clear that he could kill you with his pinky without looking like he took steroids for breakfast. And if that alone didn't turn your knees to jelly, the thick veins roping from his neck, down his robust arms, and into his large hands were enough to unravel you.

He was… fucking phenomenal.

He observed you with great care, his eyes burning with intensity as you examined him. He was nearly vibrating beneath your slow perusal, so you moved on and resumed your torture. It took a total of zero seconds before he was bristling with the need to fuck you. You felt so much power in your fingertips, and you couldn't help but wonder how much more powerful you would be if he had a feeling for you.

With every inch of his skin revealed, you grew shakier and wetter. It seemed unjust for someone to possess such flawless allure despite the visible imperfections and scars. If anything, the evident signs of the hardships his body had endured only made him that much more edible.

You choked on air as you lowered his pants, his hard cock jutting out from the confines of his pants. So this was what accepting death via dick looked like.

Once he was completely undressed, you took a big step back and examined the reflection in the mirror. Your gaze fixated on his muscular thighs, firm and shapely buttocks, and sculpted back that had enticed you since that doomed morning. You couldn't help but fantasize about running your hands all over them. And then there was the most gorgeous cock you'd ever seen.

You wanted to run away. Far, far away. To put as much distance as possible between yourself and this man. It was clear to you that he would bring about your downfall after tonight. You could taste it on your tongue.

"Are you scared?" he asked in a low, dark voice. His gaze bore into you, his expression inscrutable.

"Yes," you responded honestly. His smile, almost breathtaking, nearly weakened your resolve. It felt unnatural how strikingly beautiful he was. Without a doubt, he was the embodiment of darkness. Now, more than ever, you were convinced he was the fucking devil.

"You ought to be," he warned, his voice tinged with menace. Without thinking, you took another step backward, but he made no move to impede your retreat.

"Get on your knees, love," he commanded in a sinister tone. You hesitated, uncertain whether to obey or search for the common sense you seemed to have misplaced somewhere along the way into this living room and make a swift escape.

"Don't test me," he growled, his face dropping into a stern expression. Lowering his jaw, he glared down at you with an intimidating gaze. The threat in his face frightened you, causing your juices to dampen your thighs.

You dropped to your knees with a jolt, the impact causing pain. It was exactly what you both desired. He tilted your head back forcefully, making you gaze up at him. His cock brushed against your cheek, serving as a forewarning of what lay ahead.

"You enjoy being a naughty girl, don't you? You like the thrill of testing me because you get off on the fear I instill in you. You're a silly little girl toying with danger," he taunted, his face contorted into a cruel snarl. Tears welled up in your eyes as he held your head firmly, burning just like the inferno of ire and lust in his eyes.

"Tell me, love, have you ever been fucked by a man like me?"

"Better," you hissed, feeling the dormant resentment towards him resurface. Something very dark and dangerous shuttered over his eyes. He raised an eyebrow, and instantly, you recoiled inward. It was a lie. You both knew it.

Good girls don't lie. That was the first thing you learned when you were put in a religious school as a child. The second lesson was not to trust the devil and his influence. However, they forgot to mention the crucial advice of not provoking him once you had fallen under his sway. Perhaps that was considered basic common fucking sense.

Your lip quivered as you scolded yourself for your foolishness. Feelings of bitterness and mistrust simmered just below the surface. You couldn't fathom why you entertained the idea of allowing Vash to dominate and have his way with you without putting up a fight.

"Open your fucking mouth, bad girl. Right now, or I'll make you gag on my cock," he demanded, his voice dripping with threat.

This time, you obeyed. The moment your lips separated, Vash forcefully thrust the tip into your mouth, pushing it deep down your throat. He hissed through his teeth, accompanied by another feral growl.

You whimpered and then gagged as he pushed his dick deeper. It felt like rigid steel wrapped in smooth fabric, but the sleekness did little to alleviate the pain. He was too thick and too long for your mouth.

Tears instantly flooded your eyes and streamed down your cheeks as he continued to penetrate you forcefully. As a reflex, you grasped onto his sturdy thighs, attempting to create some distance. However, he swiftly seized both of your hands, clasping them together in one of his while maintaining his grip on your head with the other. He held your bound hands high against his abdomen, giving the appearance of a woman kneeling in prayer, worshipping the very embodiment of evil.

"Suck it. Now," he growled.

You complied with his command, hoping he'd ease up. You sucked hard, creating a hollow in your cheeks while running your tongue smoothly over the prominent vein on the underside of his length.

"That's it, love," he exhaled, granting you a momentary respite. However, within seconds, he pulled you back towards him, taking control of your movements as he guided your head back and forth while you continued to suck him with your mouth.

He murmured words of encouragement and let out deep, pleasure-filled groans as he became increasingly assertive. Every syllable and moan that left his lips fueled your growing desperation to satisfy him.

"Let's see. Your high school sweetheart, Eren Yeager, he was better than me, huh?"

Your eyes widened in confusion, unsure of how Vash knew him and fearing this conversation's direction. "I highly doubt he was better than me. Who else?" he emphasized the last word by thrusting deeper into your throat, causing you to choke. After a few seconds of struggling, he relented. "Satoru Gojo, Cloud Strife, that boy Zuko..." he continued, listing off every man you had gone on a date with. Admittedly, the number wasn't significant, but it felt a lot considering the peril in which you had just placed their lives. He abruptly jerked your head back, granting you a brief moment to catch your breath as he uttered, "I will enjoy killing each and every one of them, love."

Before you could even form a response or take another gasp of air, he resumed choking you with his cock. Your vision began to blur at the edges as he thrust deeply into your throat. No matter how much you gagged and fought against him, he only became harder and more aroused.

"What if I cum in your mouth, and you swallow it to make your father proud?"

For a brief moment, you glared up at him, your hatred burning brighter than any trace of desire. He smiled, or rather revealed his teeth, as he noticed the anger reflected in your eyes.

"You want it, but you won't damn well receive it. You haven't earned that privilege just yet."

Without any warning, he forcefully yanked your head back, his cock popping free. He gripped your chin firmly, raising you until you were on your tiptoes.

"Vash, please," you whimpered, your vision hazy from tears and your chest constricted from the lack of air. Uncertain of what you were pleading for, whether it was your own life or the lives of the innocent men you had unknowingly condemned to death.

"That's such a good girl," he praised. "I love it when you're scared and begging."

Just as you believed you could finally inhale, he swiftly stole your breath again. His lips closed tightly against yours in a captivating kiss, electrifying your senses. Your nails dug into his chest, provoking a deep growl from him as he dominated your mouth with his own. He claimed he wouldn't kiss you, but the energy between you crackled and exploded, causing both of you to drink from each other fervently. The kiss ignited sparks of fire and filled your tongue with the mingling flavor of bitter whisky.

Poison had never tasted so good.

As your tongues battled for control, he firmly grasped your waist and yanked you upwards. Your legs naturally wrapped around his trim waist just as you felt the cool glass pressed against your back. The mirror's chill threatened to send shivers curling for epilogue through your body, but the heat radiating from his body against yours was scorching hot.

A sudden, piercing bite of pain on either side of your hips caused you to gasp into his mouth. With a quick, forceful pull, he tore your panties away from your body, leaving the shredded fabric caught somewhere between your bodies.

He withdrew and positioned the head of his cock at the entrance. "Spread your pussy for me, love," he commanded.

"No!" you shouted. "There's absolutely no way I'll let you fuck me without a condom!"

"Why bother? You already have an IUD, so clearly, my spawns won't have any chance of impregnating you," he retorted, his tone laced with heavy sarcasm.

"How the hell do you know that?" you exclaimed, swiftly hitting his chest.

"Milly."

So the nurse examined you, checking if Knives had raped you or not.

"I don't want your STDs!" you spat out angrily.

"Who the fuck do you think I am?" Vash demanded, his eyes ablaze with anger.

"A manwhore!" you said.

He pushed you closer to the mirror while glancing between you and his reflection. "I haven't been with anymore since Nick!"

"Oh, C'mon! You fucked a girl on your birthday!"

"I didn't," he said, then relaxed his hold, letting you free.

"But Bradd—"

"I helped that abused waitress to run away," he said quietly.

You tried to speak up and ask him to just fuck you, but the anger on his face silenced you. Just as he was about to move away, you halted him and obeyed his instructions.

You spread your legs and, grabbing his cock, guided it into your entrance. It was belittling when he knew you weren't supposed to want it. And as a consequence of offending him, he was going to make you show him how much you wanted him. By spreading your pussy and inviting him in.

Gods, you hated him.

His hands tightened on your hips painfully. You knew that you would wake up tomorrow with bruises shaped like handprints, and a part of you dreaded that. The imprints left on your skin would make it impossible to forget what happened.

"Do not ever label me as a manwhore," he warned just before he forcefully brought you down onto his awaiting dick.

"Ah!" you cried out, your hands poised to push him away from your chest. He was too much, stretching you wider than you'd ever been. Your eyes rounded into giant saucers as you whimpered in response to the extreme pressure.

You sensed his grith slipping through your fingers as he worked himself deeper. "Stop! It's too big," you gasped.

"Well, tough luck for you," he cooed mockingly, his tone husky and tight. "This is the consequence of being a naughty girl, isn't it?"

When you remained silent, he forcefully pulled you down on his dick harder, causing you to let out another pained whimper.

"Answer me," he barked.

"Yes!" you exclaimed, breathless, as you tightly shut your eyes in response to the invasion.

"Will you behave now?"

"Yes," you mewled desperately. The pain was morphing into something much more intense and breathtaking.

He slid out and then eased back in with a gentler but still angry motion. It felt as if your body was on the verge of exploding. This wasn't natural to be so goddamn full.

He withdrew until only the tip remained, and then he slammed his entire length inside of you. It went so deep that you felt it all the way up to your throat.

You cried out, your voice cracking under the swell of emotions welling up in your chest. It didn't feel right at all.

"Damn, love, I can barely fucking fit."

Perhaps that's why it felt as if he was ripping you apart. He began with deliberate and powerful movements, forcefully thrusting before pulling out at a painfully slow pace, only to slam back inside you once more.

You felt your body starting to yield, eagerly taking him in as he ravished you with each thrust. He widened his stance, using the mirror for support, causing your stomach to tighten in anticipation of the damage he was about to exert on your organs.

Shockwaves scattered throughout your nerve endings as he quickened his pace, roughly fucking you against the mirror while loud noises you never made in your life fell from your lips.

The pleasure was blinding, and the sight of him moving in and out between your fingers heightened the strong desire stirring in the pit of your stomach.

He let you down, swiftly turned you around, and wasted no time before thrusting back inside you. You closed your eyes and pressed your palms against the mirror to find stability.

"Look at us in the mirror," he demanded roughly. It required significant effort, but you pried your eyes open and let them wander over the mirror. It was too much— watching him drive himself inside you so deeply.

Your eyes were partially closed, and your face displayed undeniable bliss. Then, you caught a glimpse of him in the mirror, and your gazes met. A torrent of emotions washed over you, causing your heart to sink, and you quickly averted your eyes. It was the most euphoric experience you ever had.

Your eyes met his again, and a sly smile spread across his face. He leaned in, his lips gently skating across the crook of your neck as he watched you slowly come apart at the seams, all the while maintaining a mischievous grin.

"Now, confess, have you ever been fucked by a man like me?"

You nibbled on your lip and shook your head, resisting the temptation to roll your eyes in sheer exasperation.

He abruptly halted, causing an involuntary, embarrassing scream to leave your lips. He pushed your back down to readjust your positions, and the moment he hit that particular spot, your legs trembled uncontrollably.

"Oh my God," you moaned, unable to prevent your eyes from rolling back this time.

"That's right, love. I am your fucking God," he growled, and then you felt his teeth sinking into your neck.

Your stomach tightened as an orgasm built rapidly, threatening to overpower you. It felt as if a furious Poseidon resided within, conjuring a destructive tsunami that seemed poised to engulf you.

The mirror began to shudder from the force of his intense thrusts violently. It seemed as if it could shatter at any moment, yet you were unable to bring myself to care. Just as you were on the brink of reaching climax, he pulled completely out.

You whimpered, feeling the sudden emptiness almost as if it were painful. "What—"

He took a step back and gestured towards the floor. Your knees wobbled, your balance disrupted by the sharp pleasure throbbing between your thighs. "Get on your hands and knees," he instructed.

You didn't protest, primarily because the absence of the orgasm was distressing, and your legs could barely bear your weight any longer. Frustration welled up, evident in the tearful corners of your eyes, but you suppressed your snarky remark. You knew that he would only escalate your punishment further.

You expected him to enter you once more from behind, but instead, he swiftly slid his hands between your legs and gripped you from underneath your hips. He lifted you, causing your knees to lose contact with the ground, and you had to quickly catch yourself to prevent from falling face-first.

You felt his warm breath fanned across your pussy just moments before his teeth latched onto your sensitive clit. You yelped as pain and pleasure mingled. However, he wasted no time in lavishing attention on your throbbing bundle of nerves, skillfully using his mouth to suck while lapping at your dripping cunt.

He hummed, sending delightful vibrations resonating through your core. "You taste so fucking good," he murmured before teasingly flicking his tongue against your sensitive clit. You gazed up shamelessly, observing him feast on you from behind. You adjusted your head to obtain the best view of him on his knees, hungrily devouring your pussy as if he were famished.

The impending orgasm resurfaced, now even more imminent than before. You were unable to grind back into Vash's face like you desired, leaving you utterly defenseless against the relentless assault of his tongue.

"Vash, please," you begged, your eyes crying with pleasure.

"Do you want to come?" he asked; his voice was breathless and unsteady.

"Yes," you pleaded with a groan.

Vash pulled away, and in frustration, you screamed, pounding your fist against the floor. Overwhelmed by fury from being denied for the second time, you struggled against his grip, thrashing in defiance. He chuckled at your futile attempt.

"You motherfucking ass—"

He abruptly halted your outburst by seating himself inside you, causing his balls to smack against the sensitive nub. You choked on your words, this angle allowing him in far deeper than before. He seized your hair, forcefully pulling your head back, making you look directly into the mirror in front of you. From this angle, you could witness him vigorously fuck you.

"You want to cream all over my cock, love?"

You nodded your head frantically.

He responded with a smile. "Have you been a good girl?"

Once again, you nodded unsteadily.

"Then fucking say it," he urged, calling out your name.

As his gravelly voice pronounced your full name, you instinctively clenched around his cock.

"I'm a good girl," you breathed, too far gone to feel anything but blinding lust. He molded his body against your back, spearing through your tightening pussy. The hand in your hair slid down to wrap around your throat, exerting a firm grip, while his other hand splayed across your stomach. Your vision became hazy, and finally, the tsunami of orgasm crashed through you.

You emitted an ear-piercing scream that nearly rattled the mirror. Vash's name spilled from your lips in a frenzied chant as your entire world exploded into myriad fragments.

"Fuck! That's it, love. Your pussy is incredibly tight. Milk my cock," Vash managed to say through gritted teeth. He concluded with a growl, his hips trembling as he slammed into you for one last time, filling you with his cum until there was no room left inside of you. Your combined fluids trickled down your thighs as you lay on the floor, panting and breathless. Your body convulsed with aftershocks, even after the biggest orgasm you had ever experienced subsided.

You couldn't fucking breathe, let alone move or form coherent thoughts. None of it felt normal. Not a single bit.

Your breath hitched, and your teeth clenched from the feel of him sliding out of you.

Disregarding Vash's presence, you hurriedly scrambled to dress yourself.

As you approached your shoes, a muttered "shit" caught your attention from behind. Turning around, you found Vash staring at his phone, his face etched with a serious expression. He was dressed in nothing but his black boots and loosely fastened pants, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the well-defined V disappearing beneath the fabric. The glow from his phone emphasized the muscles flexing against his smooth skin, with scars and intricate black tattoos only enhancing his raw allure. The veins coursing through his hands and arms were visibly bulging, and if you weren't already leaning against the mirror, his overwhelming presence would have caused you to collapse. That masterpiece of jagged scars and rugged edges had ravished you completely, leaving you breathless.

You closed your eyes and leaned against the glass, seeking respite. Suddenly, you felt the warmth of Vash's hand on the back of your neck, causing your eyes to snap open. You realized he was pulling you closer, resting your head against his chest and draping his shirt over your shoulders. Assuming that this would be the last time you permitted his touch, you allowed him to slip his hands beneath your knees and neck, hoisting you effortlessly into his arms.

Exhaustion had enveloped you so entirely that his words, "Let's bring you to our room," evaded your weary ears.

Taglist: @julk4e - @lune010 - @beanibon - @emptybrain01 - @changingchances @awkwardchick87 @enchantedforest-network

[beanibon]

i love your mermaid AU! but what if we switch roles and reader is the water creature. how would the trigun boys react? maybe some nsfw headcanons?

I love this whole mermaid AU coming back, I definitely need to more on it cause I love Mermaid/Siren AUs so much.

TW: interspecies sex, oral (m!receiving/Wolfwood), use of aphrodisiacs (in Knives), creampie, size difference (Vash), breast-fucking (Vash), breeding (Knives), drowning (Knives)

(For Vash I wanted to have the Reader a more Whale Shark build, so they'll be slightly bigger than he is but very docile and sweet)

Vash is definitely the type of guy to go whale watching with mates, pair it with beers and snacks and he'll have the perfect outing on a day off.

The first time he spotted you was when Wolfwood teasingly pushed him overboard, complaining they needed bait to lure anything interesting. Vash arguing with his best friend while still in the water, only to panic as something brushed his leg, pulling him under water. That was when he met a curious mermaid, significantly larger then him, but gentle as they circled him, protecting him with tiger shark that had previously pulled Vash under.

You disappeared the moment Knives pulled Vash out of the water, resulting in screaming match between his brother and best friend. But all Vash could think about was the friendly face that greeted him the moment that suffocating water surrounded him.

After being denied on a boat for weeks from his overprotective brother, Vash eventually managed to return to the exact coordinates he found you, alone this time as watched the waters intensely. It wasn't long until he heard your echoing calls, surfacing to take a closer look.

Vash was mesmerised instantly, watching as you circled his boat with fascination, before pulling your large form onto it. It had Vash panicking at first, but the moment you towered over him all worries disappeared as your dampened hair cascading on either side of him.

Your large form was captivating, yet Vash became increasingly aware of your bare breasts that pressed against his body as your tongue licked his lips, slipping in-between them in a startling kiss.

Needy hands tore Vash's clothes off, leaving him naked for the world to see as you sank your larger body on his.

Vash moaned, hips grinding upwards at your advances. But you pushed him back, shuffling backwards as the boat lurched with your weight, squeezing your breasts over his cock, pumping them up and down.

The entire time Vash was whining, moaning and clawing at the deck of the boat, legs kicking as you worked his cock faster. He was flabbergasted at this sudden advance, but he couldn't stop looking at those patterned breasts, and suddenly this didn't feel so bad.

Vash pulled you into another kiss, moaning against your wet lips. You felt amazing around his cock, not to mention the way you had previously slightly crushed him.

He adored the size difference, enjoying being the weaker of you two as you easily had him whimpering as you squeezed your breasts around his cock.

A final cry had him coming all over your chest, panting as you gave him a praising kiss.

Vash found himself returning more frequently, part of him ashamed that he fucked a mermaid on a regular, but the moment he saw your beautiful form nuzzling into him those worries were swept away as he indulged in you yet again. Falling in love a little harder each time.

(Wolfwood works at a shark observatory, Reader is more so based of a flying fish who accidentally got stuck in bull sharks enclosure)

Nicholas is in charge of a pod of Bull Sharks at a rescue facility, bonding with the creatures and making sure they don't eat each other during feeding time.

The first time he spotted you it was during a smoke break, watching as the sharks darted rapidly towards the outer reef of their massive enclosure. It wasn't uncommon for wild fish or the occasional seal to get stuck in the enclosure, most workers tried to help the creature as quickly as possible. So you could imagine Wolfwood's surprise at having a frantic half-human half-fish creature fly out of the water, tripping him in their attempt to escape the hungry sharks.

Frantic high-pitched chirps and damp, webbed fingers helped Nicholas up, checking him over to make sure there was no injuries.

Meanwhile Nicholas was gobsmacked at the sight of you, cowering as a shark swam a little too close. You were stunning, but he wasn't the kind to believe in silly tales of mermaids... until now that was.

It was obvious you were trapped, the only way back to the ocean was either through the Bull Shark's enclosure or on land, you were stuck either way. So Nicholas opted to help, awkwardly scooping up your body as he exited the enclosure, carrying you as you chittered in his ear.

The moment he reached the edge of the ocean, just outside the enclosure that was walled off, you happily leapt into the water, chirping as you splashed water over your drying scales and skin.

Wolfwood was about to head back, until you chirped loudly his way, ushering him over. He hesitantly obliged, moving closer.

That's when you pounced on him, nuzzling into his chest as you purred. Nicholas felt his cheeks flush, unsure of what was even happening as small waves lapped at his now soaked body.

Delicate hands tugged his work pants lower, Nicholas trying to pull them back up, only to freeze as that purring mouth enveloped his oddly hardened cock. He didn't recall the uncomfortable tightness of his wet clothes, nor the way those stunning eyes had him feeling butterflies in his gut.

Yet your mouth was warm, bobbing up and down as Nicholas stuttered out shaky moans, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as your tongue swirled around the head.

His cock was taken down to the hilt as your throat opened to take him whole, eyes fluttering to look up at the human that so graciously saved you.

You swallowed his release easily, even licking your lips as you gave Nicholas a toothy grin nuzzling into him one last time before leaving. Nicholas left with his cock still exposed, flaccid and covered in drool and cum.

Turns out you needed rescuing a few more times from the grumpy Wolfwood, giving him a new reward each time.

(Knives is a marine biologist, working alongside his mother Rem at her underwater observatory after discovering she had obtained a new asset. Here Reader is a pufferfish mermaid :3)

Knives works in an underwater observatory facility, the lead marine biologist under his mother Rem Saverem. He's often hard to approach as he prefers solitary research in the large reef they've set up the facility in.

He was shocked when Rem excitedly presented you to her eldest son, showing off the mermaid they had rescued from poachers, some of the net still tangled in the many spines across your body.

Other than his mother, Knives was incharge of studying you in your recovery. You were often panicked at the people watching you, darting to hide and camouflage with the natural decor of your temporary tank.

You'd only ever be seen out when Knives was around, taking an odd fascination with the gloomy human that observed you, taking notes on behaviourisms or certain characteristics you portrayed.

When one of the scientists startled you, causing you to panic, that's when Knives realised that the net entangled in your spines was a hindrance to your recovery. Frowning as you got caught on some coral, further injuring yourself as that only panicked you further.

You eventually freed yourself, sad chirping noises filling the tank as you pawed at the missing spines that had snapped off in your fear-stricken phase.

So Knives took it upon himself to untangle the net, taking a small knife to saw away the thick rope.

Of course you startled the moment he entered the water, hiding instantly. But Knives was patient, after all he was doing this after hours, against Rems orders of not interfering with you in hopes you'd recover without relying on humans.

Once you found the courage, recognising the man that made you follow along the glass in silent curiosity, you emerged. Quiet squeaks sounding as you observed this intruder, spines flaring the moment he pulled the knife from his pocket.

Turning to flee, Knives was quick to intercept, grabbing the rope before you could further harm yourself. You flailed desperately, screeching as Knives struggled to cut the net. But once the first cut was made, hissing as your spine pricked his flesh, you calmed.

Allowing Knives to slice the rope free of your body, you whimpered. Hands explored Knives body as he worked, slitted eyes admiring his exposed pectorals, chirping out admiring noises as he quirked a brow at you.

Another prick had Knives flinching, unaware you had flared your spines again, this time with an ulterior motive unknown to Marine Biologist.

Knives mind went foggy, panting into his oxygen mask as his skin began to warm, body feeling oddly fuzzy. You seemed unbothered, finally free of the net you circled the human, slipping off the mask that allowed him to breath.

Quickly you pulled off the remainder of his clothes, body coiling around him as you slid onto his hardened cock, Knives gasping at the foreign sensation.

You were now above him, pushing him to the sandy bottom of your tank, lower body humping his cock as pleased chirps drawled from your lips. The feeling of his cock was addictive to you, watching as Knives body reacted to your aphrodisiac, eyes clouded with lust as he reciprocated your advances.

Knives had been milked several times before his lungs began to squeeze, urging him to resurface for air. But no matter how many times his body jolted or fought against your continuous grinding, you didn't untangle yourself from him, simply cooing at how his hands covered his mouth.

He was borderline unconscious before he was discovered, embarrassingly enough. Rem, his mother, the one to save him from your ruthless fucking.

Yet despite being scolded and treated against your aphrodisiac, Knives couldn't find it in him to regret what he had done. In fact, the moment you were released back after a full recovery, Knives easily found you after you refused to leave the area.

Turns out, other than the drowning part, he enjoyed every touch and caress of your deadly body against his, and he'd be lying if he didn't indulge in some more sinful acts with his precious asset.

[drunkenlionwrites]

my dirty thought is losing a bet with Wolfwood and Vash and my punishment is that they both face fuck me :)

damn nonnie, that's spicy! probably the dirtiest thing i've written so far During a long and full of booze kind of night in the middle of a Gunsmoke sand wasteland, where you've been bunking with Nicholas and Vash, somewhere along the way you've gotten too cocky about your shooting skills so you three made a bet on who was the fastest shooter. And, well, expectedly, you've lost the bet, the two guys, even while completely hammered, being the absolute powerhouses. The only little thing tho, the price for the lost bet was being fucked by the winners. The three of you drunkily sneakered while discussing the punishment before competing, but now the reality hit you and you've even felt inebriation leaving you. Vash even shyly told you that you can refuse the punishment alltogether and it's not a big deal to the mocking scoff of Nicholas. But you've thought about it for a moment and decided not to loose such a chance, cause both of your friends were always making you feel some sort of things, in all honesty. This is how you happened to be standing on your fours, while sucking off Nico's thick dick as he slammed it into you relentlessly, his fingers grabbing you by the scalp. With Vash standing beside him, looking at you with the biggest bedroom eyes, gently smaking your cheeks with his cock. You've been gagging and drooling on Nico's cock, when he pulled out of you and suggested for Vash to join him. They both slowly put their dicks in your pliant mouth and you began sucking on them slowly at first, moaning and whining from the sensation. You've never imagined that you could end up like this, but oh how you've enjoyed feeling like a total slut for them. Vash couldn't close his mouth for a second, almost screaming from pleasure, so Wolfwood chuckled at him and with a tug on Vash's neck brought his face closer to him and crushed his lips with his eager mouth. At this sight you began sucking them off with more vigor, trying to push them as deep into your throat as you could. The sensation of both of their dicks and their mouths being pressed to each other, and their dicks being in your mouth making you incredibly aroused, despite your physical struggle to finish them both off. In the end it seemed like you were not the only one so ungodly aroused, since you've felt first Vash, then Nico pulsing inside of your mouth, both Wolfwood's and Vash's hand coming to your hair to rhythmically thrust into your eager mouth. You could only do your best to relax your throat at take everything they were giving you. Damn, you hope you won't forget it the next day.