#nai x you
Note
girl same i just wanna sit on nai’s lap and kiss him and squeeze his tiddies is that so much to ask
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。HUMAN — MILLION KNIVES (NAI).
「 SYNOPSIS 」 nai can’t bring himself to hate you—until you almost make him feel human, that is
☽ contents ⋮ gn! reader, slightly suggestive but also not rly, fluff if you squint but also idk if it’s rly fluff, kissing and all that good stuff lolz
☽ notes ⋮ y’all saw his tiddies in todays episode right. we all saw that right. we all lost our minds right. RIGHT.
“nai,” you whisper, hands traveling along his abs, feeling the ridges of his taught muscles before settling for his chest, squeezing slightly as you pant against his mouth, “nai, i want you.”
he scoffs, and he wants to glare at you, but your lips nip at his jaw, suck sweetly at the skin, make his eyes flutter shut and his breath turn erratic as he holds back a grunt when you find a spot on his neck that makes him particularly hungry for you.
nai doesn’t like you.
which is a step up, you suppose—if you were anyone else, he’d hate you. if you were any other human, he’d despise your existence. but, for some unknown reason to even himself, nai doesn’t hate you.
for some reason, it’s hard to hate you—it’s not like he sees value in you, or that he even finds you all that tolerable. you still feed off plants, off his kind, off his brethren. you’re still every bit as guilty as the rest of the disgusting likes of humans. but somehow, he thinks you’re a bit fascinating, so he settles for disliking you instead of his usual hatred.
and it’s not that he makes an exception for you—or so he tells himself, that is. it’s a complicated situation, really: you seated on his lap, his hands gripping your waist, your mouth molding against his, his chest rising and falling with every slow stroke of your palm over the skin. it’s all a bit too complicated when he knows you’re supposed to eventually be dead like everyone else when the time for a new world comes.
because nai doesn’t like you, and he certainly doesn’t need you around—but he does love the way you make him feel when you kiss him like that.
your hands are cupping his cheeks, thumb stroking over the mole on the right side of his face under his eye—and for a moment, just a moment and nothing more, this rare, foreign gentleness of a human erases the atrocities.
but knives dislikes you, and he’ll never give you the satisfaction of knowing he wants you too.
“pathetic,” he spits, “how pathetic of you to think you’ll have me.”
“ah, but i do have you, don’t i?” you hum cheekily. how bold of you, he thinks, how bold and downright foolish you are to speak to him with such confidence, such little regard for your life.
it’s almost as if…as if you trust him. like you trust him not to kill you, to let your bravery slide and look past it. how utterly naive—and yet, it makes him all the more fascinated by you, makes him want to keep you around so he can observe you some more. perhaps kiss you too, and feel the warmth of your hand against his cool skin.
“you’re certainly confident for—” he’s cut off with a small grunt when your mouth finds his again, and then your hand is trailing to find the back of his neck, and then his hair, and then your fingers thread through the locks slowly, deliberately, gently.
like you’re taking care of him, like you’re not using him or taking from him for your own gain. like you’re here just to give and give even if you can’t take.
and for a moment, nai wonders if you’re really human. you must be greater than that, he decides. you must be something far more divine than a human—and it must be why he’s unable to loathe you like the rest of humanity.
it must be it—it has to be, he almost reasons desperately. why else would he of all people melt under your touch like this?
“you can’t get rid of me,” you murmur, pressing sweet, delicate kisses to the corners of his mouth, scratching at his scalp with tenderness he’s only seen once from a human before. “im staying right here, nai. with you.”
“yes,” he decides, gripping your hips tighter, pulling you a tad bit closer, “yes you’ll stay right here. under my watch.”
and then you kiss him again, sat on his lap as your hands explore his chest and your lips chase his own—and nai decides maybe it’s not so hard to hate you, after all.
he hates the way you make him almost wish he was human for a short moment.
© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#knives x reader#million knives x reader#nai x reader#knives x you#millions knives x you#nai x you#trigun stampede x reader#trigun stampede x you
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if the shoe fits — 「 prince!vash x reader x prince!nai 」
content warnings ; gn!reader, they/them pronouns, reader wears a ball gown and mentions of makeup, mild violence, mention of a tri98 character, not much romance but more so tension from nai tbh whoops
contains ; royalty!au, cinderella-esque!au, gardener!reader, friends to lovers (?) (vash), enemies to lovers (?) (nai)
notes ; i can't stress enough how well rachmaninoff's symphony no. 2 in e minor: adagio, followed by largo suits this so much, please take a listen as you go!
The names of Nai and Vash Saverem of JuLai were no strangers to the townsfolk of their kingdom. Firstborn twins and only children to the late queen Rem Saverem, the two were notorious for sticking by each other’s side almost on the daily, but also for their contrasting personalities. In front of the people, Prince Nai is distant, only preferring to stare straight ahead when in an open carriage and seemingly ignoring his townsfolk. His lips would subtly purse at the sight of the crowd before drawing a breath and crossing his arms over his chest. He says that it’s the best way to make an impression on the townsfolk—their future king cannot be bothered with sillier antics, unlike a specific someone.
Prince!Vash cannot be any more different from his brother, who is to be crowned with the regal title of “king” when he is of age. He’s much more connected with the townsfolk, often waving excitedly to them while in the carriage and taking any gifts that are handed to him with a large smile on his face, cherishing and archiving them in his bedroom. The ladies love him, their babies too, and he loves them back. A natural charmer—he’s managed to easily win the popularity contest amongst him and Nai, since he prefers to frolic out of the castle without suspicion to spend time with his people.
Prince!Nai busies himself more with work-related matters, ruling the palace with an iron fist. Make one move out of line and your fate is already decided by him before you can even beg on your knees. It’s not to say he’s completely authoritarian, however, since if he could rule the way that he truly wanted to, the townsfolk would despise him and would demand his younger brother to usurp him, despite the fact that the younger twin has no interest in royal politics.
Prince!Vash brings joy and light to the palace, he makes the place much more lively. He prefers to dine in the boisterous servants’ quarters rather than with his brother and other boring royal officials in the quieter dining hall, enjoying their stories about what life was like in the village or their stories about his late mother. They often say he reminds them of her—the fondness in his eyes, his soft and playful voice, and his pacifistic, loving demeanor. It’s also there that they freely complain about his brother without fear, to which Vash can only laugh and excuse Nai to the best of his abilities.
Prince!Nai knows his place in the world. He belongs to the higher pedestal, like a true future king should be. White gold and royal blue adorn most of his clothing, signifying his importance and regal nature. He knows his place in the world—he just wishes that everyone else does, too.
Prince!Vash forgets he’s a prince half the time, just like how he “forgets” to wear his crown (he just merely doesn’t like the feeling of superiority it entitles to him, but he guises it under the complaint of it being too heavy). He’s intrigued more by the culture of his kingdom and what a “normal” person would do rather than the gleam and glory offered by his palace.
On an early Saturday afternoon, Prince!Nai frowns at the sight of his brother talking amongst a particular someone when he passes by the gardens with his royal court following behind him while they continue mumbling about incessant political meetings with other kingdoms. He can recognize those dirtied gardening boots and soiled apron that sit a little too close to Vash’s thigh for his liking anywhere, and his frown deepens when he watches as an amateur royal gardener hands the younger prince a red flower with its petals all bustled together, clicking his tongue when dirt-stained hands touches the pure white of Vash’s glove.
Prince!Vash is awe-stricken by the flower you hand to him, carefully twirling it around with his fingers. It was his mother’s favorite flower, according to the other gardeners. You give him a toothy smile and say he came to the garden at the right time—geranium season has just bloomed and the garden sprinkled with their beauty all over this spring in honor of the late queen.
“I hear your mother was a lot like you,” you murmur quietly, watching as the prince pets the petals tenderly when you change into your spare, cleaner shoes. “Do you have memories of what she was like?”
He looks at you with a glimmer of longing flashing through his cerulean eyes. You’re about to apologize for your hastiness when you see his lips thin momentarily before he gently smiles and leans back into the seat of the gazebo that protects you and him from the afternoon sun.
“Gentle,” is what slips past his lips, “is what I remember best. Kind and wise, too. She used to always tell me that there’s beauty everywhere, even in the harshest of places. All it really takes is for one to just simply,” he reaches over to you and gently nestles the flower neatly in between your hair and ear, not noticing you stiffen at his touch despite him looking at you straight in the eyes. “... look a little closer.”
Prince!Nai can only huff at the shared touch between a lowly gardener and the other branch of his royal blood before briefly excusing himself from the royal counsel to escort himself to the gardens, not wanting his brother to be in such close radius of you any longer. He calls out his name sternly, making you and him flinch at the sound of his voice. His nerves relax themselves when Vash pulls away from you, but his jaw clenches slightly when he sees a speck of dust on the fingertip of his glove that Vash scratches his cheek with, embarrassed.
“You should be getting ready for tonight’s ball,” Nai states flatly, not even acknowledging your existence when you bow and greet him. “There is much preparation to do.” His eyes fleet towards you, where you stand still, your head still bowed to show your respects to his majesty. “I expect the flowers for the ballroom to be set up by early evening,” is all he says to you before trotting away with his head held up high.
Prince!Vash makes sure that his brother is out of sights before he sighs and urges you to lift your head up. Apologizing for his brother’s rudeness, he can only sigh at the fact that he couldn’t sneak out of the palace tonight like he usually does, making you laugh when he pouts at the thought of entertaining boring old nobles and lords.
“I wish I could say that,” you mention as you smooth your pants out. “Balls seem like fun—dancing around in pretty clothing and eating all those tasty desserts the chefs make.”
Vash snorts. “Sure, they’re fun if you like talking awkwardly with people twice your age and having people step on your feet after not being able to sit down for almost three hours.”
“But still!” you exclaim. “Just the thought of being in a ballroom and being with everyone enjoying themselves would be such a delightful sight.”
As you sigh dreamily about your fantasies, Prince Vash can only stare at you incredulously, marveled at the two different worlds that sit side by side so close under a gazebo. He wonders if you fantasize about royal life a lot, wondering if you think like him but with his fantasies about being a commonfolk and not worrying about the societal pressures of living up to his brother. He finds it so fascinating that such two different people from two different worlds can be together under a single roof, bonding over miniscule things like flowers. It’s what he finds so amazing about human nature the most—the skill of connection.
He looks at you from the corner of his eye as you gaze longingly into the garden when all of a sudden, an idea pops into his head.
Prince!Nai carefully watches with contempt as you and the younger prince talk amongst each other from his office window that sits a few stories above the garden, sneering when Vash holds both of your speckled hands suddenly and nods excitedly, the sparkle in his eyes evident even from a hefty height. His eyes narrow in suspicion when you shake your head to his unknown words; your brows furrow in nervousness before Vash caresses the top of your hands with his thumbs, making Nai’s icy blue gaze harden.
Prince!Vash is about to beg on his knees at this point.
“You must come! You’d enjoy it, I promise,” Vash pleads as he grips your hands tighter. “I’ll be by your side the entire time, so you won’t feel too anxious.”
“Your majesty—” you attempt.
He pouts. “Please don’t call me that,” he says with a soft frown, not enjoying the sudden formality.
“—it would not be wise for a menial gardener such as I to attend such a regal event,” you whisper, your eyes darting over the place to avoid any eavesdroppers. The palace does enjoy its part-time gossip, after all. “I am not suited for it.”
“But I am inviting you!” he exclaims. “You would be coming on my behalf. I’m allowed to do that, I swear!”
Your lips purse in anxiousness, a thick swallow trailing down your dry throat. “It would not be deemed appropriate… and what if his majesty found out about one of his staff attending a royal ball and not tending to it?”
“Then that would be my problem to handle,” Prince Vash retorts. “Please come. It’d make me eternally happy.”
“I…” your words fail you, and you do consider giving in for a brief moment just to get the prince off your tail before your eyes deepen with disappointment one more time. “I’m sorry, my prince, but I must refuse your offer.”
Prince!Nai cocks a brow when he sees his younger brother’s smile disappear and morph into a saddened frown at your words that he can’t seem to articulate from the window above. He watches a little too intently when Vash heaves a great big sigh and finally stands up, his eyes rolling when he offers you his hand. Assuming that the conversation between a gardener and blue blooded prince is finally over, he moves his eyes to his royal secretary.
“Must this be a ball with the intention of finding me a spouse…?” Nai huffs, settling himself in his chair. “I can rule a kingdom perfectly fine without the nuisance of a marriage.”
Legato can only shake his head at his superior’s words. “Tradition goes as follows, your majesty. Your coronation cannot take place without a spouse by your side. At least you are able to choose them—your mother was not granted that option.”
The future king of JuLai knows that, and he also knows that he should be more grateful to what he is given. But he has always been alone and prefers to keep it that way, his younger counterpart being the only exception. Yes, his mother may have married to a more irrelevant royal, but after his death, she was able to rule JuLai properly by herself, so why couldn’t he? Nai only shakes his head before staring at the royal orb and scepter that sit in their glass box on the dresser, a reminder that he keeps close to remind him of his goals and his duties. He can feel the ghost of their coldness on his palms from practicing so much in the mirror. His hands twitch.
“Your outfit for the ball is in your quarter’s, my prince,” Legato says before excusing himself to make sure the preparations for the ball are in place.
Nai can only sigh in disappointment when he watches the doors of his office close before standing up again to face the window. His eyes graze around the garden again before sharply landing on the gazebo again, where nothing but soil-ridden boots stand under it
Prince!Vash looks into your eyes, where disappointment hides under a curtain of uncertainty. He sighs, releasing your hands from his grasp. He supposes that it does seem a little too risky to sneak in a commonfolk into the royal ballroom, and he wouldn’t want you to face any punishments if you were caught.
“Thank you for the invitation, though,” you retort. “I truly do admire your enthusiasm.”
“If I was able to invite the entire kingdom, I would,” the prince sighs, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’m sure everyone would enjoy it, especially the children.”
You smile softly at his words; he was always a man of the people and it never fails to show even during more private moments. “I have no doubt about that. Perhaps in another lifetime, when you are king, you’ll be able to do that.”
A haughty laugh escapes his lips. “If I am able to do that without being a king or leader of sorts, that’d be better. Honestly, if I’m able to just one day escape this life in general—I’d be satisfied.”
You shrug casually. “What’s stopping you? You could always just escape and go live under a fake name, I wouldn’t tell a soul.”
Prince Vash pauses suddenly. He snaps his head to look at you with a sudden idea lingering in his head at the mention of a fake name. Glassy eyes go to scan your figure up and down and slowly, an almost mischievous grin starts to etch onto his face.
“Fake name, huh?” he raises his eyebrows at your confused countenance. You exclaim out of surprise when he suddenly tugs you away from the gazebo and back into the castle. “I have an idea.”
The evening sun is beginning to rest its rays. Prince!Nai watches from the leveled floor as the guests begin to flock in numbers into the ballroom, occasionally bowing to greet those who greet him. Legato stays by his side closely, making sure no one would get too comfortable to the royal host, his eyes darting to eye any suspicious characters.
“Is there anyone that you find… interesting so far, your majesty?” Legato murmurs. Nai finds his attempt at loose matchmaking poor.
"Do not ask such foolish questions,” Nai scoffs quietly as he bows to a curtsied countess that bats her lashes at him. “Where is Vash? He should’ve been down by now.”
Prince!Vash waits outside an almost-never used dressing room, wincing occasionally as he hears you yelp from the pain of having your hair tugged in a certain direction or cough from the amount of powder dabbed onto your face. His plan was sure to work; have you be disguised under a fake name with a fake title from a fake kingdom and merely just have you accompany him the entire night under the impression that you and him fancied each other when in reality,it’d just be you helping him get through the night to avoid talking to other political figures and most importantly—let you have fun.
“Are they almost ready?” Vash asks the head seamstress that runs in and out of the corridor. He pulls out his inherited pocket watch from his mother, its hands ticking a little too fast for his liking. “I’d hate for us to be late.”
“Nearly, your majesty,” she replies, ribbon between her teeth as she shuffles back into the room. “Give us another moment—they do not seem to have a tolerance for a makeover, I’m afraid.”
He gives out an amused laugh when he hears you hiss through your teeth as your hair gets pulled back. “P-please be more gentle…” he hears you mumble.
“Work your magic however, Meryl,” Vash grins and says with a wink, “I’ll give you and your team double the pay if you manage to make my jaw drop.”
Prince!Nai anxiously taps his foot, his eyes flickering back and forth between the growing crowd of nobles and the large clock that screams Vash is quite late. The guests themselves have asked a number of times where the younger Saverem is, his presence already ghosting around the ballroom.
“Legato,” Nai calls. “Take Livio and Monev to search for Vash. I cannot have his tardiness stain our reputation like this,” he stresses.
“Prince!Vash!” Milly, a handmaiden, calls out worriedly. Distress floods her entire being, causing her to trip on the rug and fall towards him. His reflexes do not fail him (he can thank all the swordsmanship training for that one) and manages to break her fall with his arms. “Prince Vash! They’re looking for you! Prince Nai’s bodyguards are asking about your whereabouts—!”
Vash curses under his breath, knowing that your transformation wasn’t complete yet. “Meryl, how many more minutes do you need?” he calls aloud to the head seamstress, only for his face to pale when he receives a reply of a plentiful fifteen more minutes at minimum from the closed door. He turns back to the handmaiden, urging her to, “Tell them I’ll be down there shortly, and that I was just um… occupied in the bathroom!” he laughs unconvincingly before urging her to leave the corridor and forward the message.
He knocks on the door. “(Y/N)?”
“Yes?”
His heart lightens at the sound of your voice coming from all the commotion. “I, uh…”
He wanted a chance to at least look at you to see if you were properly fitted for the part before the ball. “I unfortunately have to go down to meet my brother, so I won’t be able to escort you like I promised… but I’ll meet you down there once you’re down!”
There’s a brief pause before you ask, “You’re not coming with me?”
He swears the mild disappointment in your voice is enough to break him whole. “I can’t, I’m so sorry. But both Milly and Meryl know what to do, I’m putting them in your care!”
Vash begins to dart out of the corridor before he pauses and quickly walks back up to Milly, and in a hushed tone, reminds her, “And please… do not forget about my gift to them.”
Prince!Nai hears his name being called aloud from the right side of the ballroom. His silver eyes meet deeper azure ones in sweet relief, before becoming unamused again at the sight of his brother’s hair all tousled, his sash not properly seated across his chest, and his crown sat improperly atop his head.
“Where were you?” Nai mutters to him before fixing the brooch on Vash’s collar. “Everyone was asking about your whereabouts?”
“Ouch!” Vash exclaims when Nai tightens his collar. “On the toilet. I think I had too much to eat for lunch, haha.”
Nai only looks at him with mild disgust. “No matter,” he waves off. “The fact is that you’re here now, that’s all that matters.”
Nai’s next few minutes are filled with him commemorating the ball to the currently present guests, thanking them for taking time out of their schedules to celebrate such a festivity with him and letting him host such a regal event. He etches on a fake smile to the people below him, making it subtly known of his position above them on the leveled flooring by refusing to greet them from down below and making them come to his feet.
The last few guests are still flocking in by the time the first couple of dances start, and Nai can’t help but eye Vash’s fidgeting and consistent scanning of the ballroom floor. He watches as Vash’s eyes go to dart at the clock while bouncing on his heels—biting his lip in what seems to be a foreign anticipation of sorts. Nai is about the question if he was alright, seeing as how nervousness was an extremely rare face that his brother would put on until when Vash’s eyes return to the dance floor. They no longer bounce about the crowd but instead, fixate on a specific sight that makes his jaw drop slightly. But when Nai attempts to share the same sight, Vash beelines down to the dance floor, Nai’s shouts of his name falling deaf to his ears.
He hesitates to follow him, but his foot stops in place and almost enables him to move. Before becoming paralyzed at the sound of his name being called by one of the royal advisors. Nai snaps at him to leave him be, glaring at the man and making the advisor stiffen and scurry away, but when he returns his eyes back to the dance floor, Nai almost loses sight of his twin just before he spots him weaving through the dancers thanks to his bold red suit.
“Vash!” His eyes follow him until Vash slows towards something—no, someone that Nai can’t see thanks to his brother’s broad build. He grits his teeth, almost losing his composure at his brother’s hyperactiveness.
His tension suddenly seems to ease itself when Vash finally moves out of view to reveal what had gotten him so worked up.
Prince!Vash looks at you breathlessly, eyes wide and an open-lipped smile gazing down upon you as you stare up at him.
“You look…” he scans your complete appearance ever so carefully, savoring every detail.
The flecks of the lights given by the chandelier embellish you in a soft spotlight. Adorned in a shimmering, celeste blue ball gown bespeckled with diamonds that had made everyone around gaze at you in wonder, Vash bit his lip—the color suited you a little too well for his liking. Elbow-length silk gloves snaked their away around arms that were usually shielded with soil-stained gardening gloves, and instead of a wide-brimmed sun hat like you usually wore that hid your face and hair from view, your hair was neatly done and atop your head settled not a sun hat, but a jeweled tiara with matching earrings and a choker that opened up your painted face.
Normally, you do not get a lot of eyes following during the daytime when you’re in your usual outerwear. But Vash can’t help but feel weary when he sees people eye you with curiosity and admiration in your current attire—some part of it wants to believe that it’s only because you’re talking with him, but all their attention is on you, like his own.
When Vash doesn’t finish his sentence, you worriedly fidget with the itchy material. “Do… Do I look weird?” you inquire with no self-security in your voice. “Is it too flashy—”
“No!” Vash shouts a little too loudly, gaining a couple of stares and raised eyebrows around him. “You look…” he swallows thickly, attempting to find better words to describe your appearance, but all that weakly chokes out is, “beautiful. Incredibly beautiful.”
A heat rushes to your face before you softly smile. “Thank you. You look just as dashing tonight, my prince. Oh and uh,” you lift the skirt of your ball gown up slightly, just enough to reveal the beauty of a pair of iridescent, sapphire-dusted glass slippers that sparkle just like the crystals in the chandelier above the ballroom. “Thank you for the gift. Your goodwill is valued greatly.”
He can’t help the bashful smile that creeps onto his lips; it feels like he was just complimented by a divinity themselves. “I-I hope it’s to your liking, and I tried my best to guess your shoe size. Are they too tight? Too large? I can quickly ask for a replacement pair if—”
You hold your gloved hand up to pause his rambling, lips curling into a soft smile. “They’re the perfect fit, my prince.”
Relief floods Vash, and he lets out a dramatic breath that makes you laugh from his antics. The young prince then reaches his hand out towards you, moving aside to let you take a better look at what you desired most—the elegance of a ballroom floor.
“Well then, shall we dance?”
Prince!Nai breathes in sharply as he sees a stranger take his brother’s hand—so sharply it stings his nose, not enjoying how the stranger touches Vash so unbelievably casually. It doesn’t help his case when he doesn’t recognize who the stranger was in the snowy blue ball gown despite him knowing nearly every single person in the ballroom. He first wonders why Vash knows them, then he second guesses himself and asks why they know Vash seeing as how the conversation between the two was friendly—a little too friendly.
He’s brushed with a sense of familiarity, almost. The air feels thinner.
He stares at the two as Vash helps them onto the dance floor, where the stranger seems to already be stumbling over their own two feet. Nai can recognize a face of worry anywhere, and it’s currently plastered on their visage—pursed lips, wide eyes, he’s seen every form of it from the palace’s workers when he’s around.
Another conversation busies itself between them and Vash… and it almost looks like he’s giving the stranger instructions on how to waltz properly. From the looks of it, the stranger seems to be some sort of a viscount or baron, judging from how particularly young they were… but what sort of noble doesn’t know the basics of a waltz? Nai’s brows furrow, his ears drowning out everyone else who tries to receive him in concentration between the two particular individuals on the dance floor.
“Legato,” he chants, his eyes not leaving the two when the stranger accidentally seems to step on Vash’s foot, making them both exclaim in surprise, a short burst of laughter between the two quickly following. “Who is that dancing with Vash? The one in blue.”
“Hm?” his royal secretary looks up from his clipboard and squints at the stranger stiffly dancing. He squints. “I’m not… too sure, your majesty… I don’t think I can recall them on the invitation list.”
“Perhaps a trespasser?” Nai mutters to himself, poorly attempting to hide his horror. It was not uncommon for those not under noble titles to attempt to sneak into festivities they were not allowed into, though they had never made it particularly far. How dare a lowlife commoner sneak onto royal property and seduce his brother?! What sort of things or favors could the stranger possibly want from the royal prince? The thought of his more naive sibling being taken advantage of by a mere villager makes Nai’s blood boil hastily. “Bring them to me at once.”
Prince!Vash looks at you with a partiality embedded into his eyes, watching as your own fleet over the beauty and articulation of the ballroom’s interior and marveling at the people decorated in fancy clothing. Joy is plastered all over your face, even though you’d never admit it.
“How do you take the ball so far?” Vash asks quietly as he gently picks you up on a strengthened beat, settling you down easily. He can hear the clink of your glass slippers being set on the dance floor softly, like two champagne flutes toasting together.
“It’s all I ever could’ve dreamed about,” you sigh happily. “Thank you again, I truly do appreciate it.”
“I thought I could use the company,” he laughs, “I haven’t run into any weird marquesses or dukes yet, so keep at—” Vash’s smile suddenly falls flat onto the floor at the sight of a familiar bluenette approaching your and his way, a sternness that replicates his elder brother’s on the royal secretary’s face. A nervous bob of his throat attempts to hide itself under his ascot. He can’t let his nerves get to him or you.
“Legato.”
“My prince,” Legato greets flatly, giving a poor bow that would be completely unacceptable under Nai’s eyes, “Your majesty requests you and your…” Legato’s narrow eyes trace your figure, his brow raising when you look away instead of greeting him. “... accompaniment at once. He would like to meet them properly.”
Vash’s spine freezes, and he can feel you stiffen as you grip his gloved hand a little tighter. “O-of course, we’ll be there in just a mo—.”
“He requests your presence, now.”
He and you can only anxiously follow Legato’s figure in the crowd, a worried glance from you meets his half-secured one, silently telling you, “Rest assured,”
Prince!Nai watches under stone-cold eyes as the mysterious stranger, Vash, and Legato come before him, all three of them bowing in respect to the future king.
“Vash,” Nai declares, making his younger brother look up, “Would you care to introduce me to… your companion?” he asks, not even attempting to acknowledge the stranger that stands idly beside him.
There’s a pregnant pause that skims through the thickened air between the three of them before Vash exclaims out in surprise and nods his head rapidly, a large smile (yet somehow doesn’t reach his eyes) plastered on his lips. “A-ah! Yes, of course!” Vash gestures to the person beside him.
Prince!Vash steps aside to introduce you properly, signaling to you that he will do most of the talking for you, giving Nai your given fake name. “They’re the child of a noble from the high court of the kingdom of Marche, and they’re coming on their father’s behalf since he has fallen ill.”
You curtsy to him out of respect, trying your absolute best to avoid the future king’s cold gaze looking down upon you. “It is such an honor to be invited to such a prestigious event, your majesty.”
Prince!Nai doesn’t reply to you, only letting out a soft grunt of semi-acknowledgement. His stare doesn’t break from you, though, still halfway convinced that you were who you said you were.
“Marche…” Nai mutters and tucks his chin in between his fingers. “Where is that on the map? I don’t recall such a kingdom.”
“It’s a rather small domain!” Vash exclaims hastily. “It’s up towards the northern hemisphere, so it’s almost entirely covered in snow—! All the way up to one’s knees!”
Nai’s eyes narrow. “And how exactly do you know that?”
Prince!Vash’s mouth suddenly pools with regret at what he said. Words get caught up in his throat and his mouth hangs open like a fish.
“Prince Vash was so kind enough to send food and supplies to our kingdom after we were hit with a sudden blizzard,” you interrupt. “Our kingdom thanks him charitably for such generosity.”
The older Saverem turns to look at Vash with a hardened look on his face. “When was this? Why was I not made aware of it?”
“You were too busy with leveling out the war between Augusta and Mei-City during the time,” Vash continues, “I didn’t want to make things worse since you were so stressed, so I decided to take matters into my own hands with Marche.”
Prince!Nai’s irritation seems to grow more and more with the passing seconds that he’s in close proximity with you. He finally takes a step down from the pedestal that sits viewing the ballroom and lifts your chin up with his gloved hand—examining your features. Something about you seems too… retrospective.
Nai thinks it’s too loose of a term.
His face scans your weary eyes, your painted, warbling lips, the slope of your nose, the crease of your eyes… he can’t quite place his finger on it, but your face doesn’t only look familiar, but feels familiar, as well, as if the shape and angles of it mimic someone else. It frustrates him that he just doesn’t know who. All he knows is that you are not worthy of the tiara placed atop your head because it looks too strange… too foreign on you.
“You remind me of someone,” he murmurs as he changes the angles of your face with his hand whilst brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. “Someone I know. Someone I’ve seen before.” His voice goes criminally soft, so quiet that only you’re able to detect the poison in his voice that stings you with disarray.
You step back a little too rashly. “I have… rather the common face, your majesty,” you excuse with a tight throat.
“I see.” The future king continues to study your features for a few more seconds before almost thrusting your face away from him—you draw a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding as you attempt to regain your balance. Returning his attention to Vash, he merely states, “I’d hate to spoil your fun for tonight, brother. I hope that you and… your company… enjoy yourselves,” before brisking off stiffly somewhere else, most likely somewhere he can quietly watch you two with watchful eyes.
Prince!Vash notices your shaken-up disposition and places a hand on the small of your back to let yourself breathe properly when you and him head back to the floor. “Are you okay?”
You nod, but your eyes warble with a curtain of glass over them. Vash thins his lips and briefly apologizes again, per usual, for his brother’s antics, attempting to ease you with excuses of how he’s always like that towards people he didn’t know and he’s just too overprotective of him.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” you choke out, pacing a bit forward. “I should probably leave before he really confirms something—”
“No! Don’t!” Vash abruptly grabs your hand and forcefully turns you around to face him before you can escort yourself out the ballroom you had been in for less than half an hour. He had done too much effort for you to be here, it’d be too much of a waste of time (and money!) if you left so early.
Your eyes widen at his rashness, blinking owlishly.
“I-I mean… there’s still a lot of time left… and I could really, reallyyy use the company,” Vash pleads and grips your hand a little tighter while he waltzes you onto the ballroom with him. “I promise I won’t let him near you without me,” he softly whispers before the large crescendo from the orchestra.
“Just follow my lead.”
Prince!Nai watches from the corner of his eye as he talks amongst different dukes and earls about the latest news regarding the seven kingdoms, not exactly picking up on their words like he usually does considering his mind was displaced somewhere else that needed his attention more desperately than political scandals.
He bounces about the ballroom, going from individual to individual in hopes to try and get a better glimpse of Vash and the seemingly uninvited guest from “Marche.” It wasn’t too difficult considering the blue gown you were wearing on the dance floor was eye-catching, but the other people in the crowd made it much too difficult to get an unblocked view of you. Vash doesn’t seem to be letting go of your side, either, unwilling to move more than a couple of meters away from you even as he talks amongst others.
“Livio, what do you know of a kingdom by the name of ‘Marche?’” Nai asks his bodyguard.
The half-masked man turns to him, confused. “I have never heard of such a nation, my prince.”
Nai is half-convinced. Livio had never been all the best at book smarts, let alone geography, so he turns to the embodiment of his second brain, asking the same question. Legato chuckles darkly, clutching something behind him. “I checked the historical archives a few minutes ago, and you would be quite intrigued as to what I had found, your highness.”
Legato shows him a torn-out, faded map of the seven cities, subcities still etched onto it…
… minus the addition of a particular northern region.
“There is no such nation under the title of ‘Marche’, your highness,” Legato says, a smirk sneaking onto his lips. “Your suspicions were right. That person besides Prince Vash… is a fraud.”
Prince!Vash happily dips you down just before the exuberant song played by the orchestra ends, making you yelp in surprise before laughing aloud with him at his sudden caper. He pulls you up again with ease and wipes the sweat of his brow. “Probably the best song they’ve played so far!”
“Indeed,” you sigh out as you fan yourself. You never expected a ballroom to become rather stuffy—or perhaps it was the constant dancing you had been doing for the past couple of hours that caused you to become so flushed. “I’m going to get some air outside before I pass out, is that okay?”
Vash, completely forgetting the vow he had made to you at the beginning, nods and tells you he’ll be close by to grab some refreshers and leaves you to your own accord. “Don’t take too long! The final dance is about to begin!”
A soft laugh escapes your lips, nodding before you whisk away to the chilled air of the garden. The night is young—you’ve never felt more alive than you did now. Perhaps you did make the right decision to tag along with the young prince this evening, since starting tomorrow, you would no longer be able to experience the joyous experience of tonight and would have to go back to tending to the garden that you walk about in. A statue honoring the late queen Rem sits in the center of it all, and it gazes upon you with a familiar gentleness. The moon is set high and it smiles down upon you as you breathe fresh air into your lungs again as you settle onto a stone bench that sits in front of the statue, watching as the nocturnal wildlife in the garden play and prance.
A rabbit peers at you from underneath a rose hedge curiously, mimicking your actions as you tilt your head at it. You fight the urge to let out a coo before you motion it towards you, you’ve always had somewhat of a knack with animals. It slowly reveals itself and prances toward you with its eyes mirroring the moonlight before it scurries away when a looming shadow approaches you from behind, obviously frightened.
“I take it you’re enjoying yourself quite well tonight,” Prince!Nai declares behind you.
Startled, you let out a soft cry of surprise before you turn around and face austere, glacial orbs that belong to the one and only future king of JuLai. Your heart pulses—already having a sneaking suspicion of why such a prestigious royal figure was isolated with you in the lone garden.
“Y-your highness,” you answer weakly, knees about to give out as you stand on weak legs. You aren’t sure whether the ache from your calves is because of all the dancing or because of the nerves.
“How is the ball?” Nai questions whilst he circles around you like a hawk around its prey. You can only stand so still as you look straight ahead, not daring to look into those eyes. “Is it to your liking? I hope the music fairs nicely, I picked it out myself.”
Clutching onto the fabric of your gown, you nod compliantly as you continue to avoid eye contact. “You have… great taste in music, my prince.”
“Why, thank you,” he replies, a confidence he exudes casually distinguished in his voice. “How is the food? The pastries are not too sweet?”
“Not at all, your highness…” Your nerves slowly begin to freeze over the more laps Nai does around you, caging you in an invisible rope as his eyes never leave your figure, the same eyes that were used to examine you much too closely.
“That’s good, that’s good,” he mumbles. “Tell me, what foods do you usually have in Marche? I have a particular sweet tooth, are there any desserts you’d recommend me if I were to… take a visit there?” he stops pacing and settles himself in front of you, his aura wading off nothing but dominance. “To just check up on how the state of it is, you know. That must’ve been a terrible blizzard, I’m sure.”
The inked sky hides your heated sweat, but doesn’t hide your chest rapidly going up and down and your breath betraying you. It falls too short. “There’s…” your words get mixed up, voice going soft. “There’s a cake th-that we eat annually during the celebration of the… the…”
Nai cocks a brow, tilting his head almost coyly to the side. “The…?”
“The… anniversary of the war against the neighboring kingdom we won a few decades ago,” you complete with little confidence.
“Oh?” Nai’s eyes narrow, a subtle smirk snaking on his lips. “Which kingdom?”
You can feel your voice begin to fail you. Eyes darting around for a familiar tuft of straw blonde hair and a dashing red suit, you don’t seem to spot anyone else in the garden except for you and the future king.“I… I can’t seem to recall, your highness, my apologies…”
He chuckles and comes to your aid all of a sudden and answers for you, instead. “I recall Augusta having conflict with a certain kingdom in my history books, perhaps it was them, then?”
A haughty laugh and nod sneaks their way past you without second thought. “Y-yes! Augusta—! I’m honored to say that we were able to triumph over them, despite a rather tough beating—”
“Liar.”
A thick pause goes through the garden before it’s broken by the sudden loud gong of the palace clock, alerting the stroke of midnight was upon you.
“P-pardon?” you hesitantly ask, turning your head up to the prince before your nerves completely freeze over and paralyze you in your spot at the sight of his ice cold eyes piercing straight into you.
Prince Nai slowly steps towards you, his sullen countenance never faltering. “Augusta… is located in the southwestern hemisphere, where there is nothing but dry land and deserts for iles. I do not think that such a land would be neighboring a kingdom where a blizzard devastated it.”
Your breath hitches. Vash is nowhere to be found, no matter how hard you look around you, and you are much too far away from the ballroom courtyard to see anyone else that can come to your rescue. Not even the animals of the night seemed to appease you with their presence, leaving you entirely to your own devices in the hands of the future king of one of the most powerful kingdoms on the planet.
“I—must’ve gotten my facts mixed up,” you choke out, feeling the air around you become thinner and thinner with each step Nai takes. “W-was it Augusta? Oh no… it was Dec—”
“December," he starts, his voice knowing. "was perished in an avalanche more than two centuries ago,” Nai interrupts, as he circles behind you. “Nothing, no one remains there except ruin,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath sending shrills up your spine.
His foot goes to step onto the fabric of your gown, making you fall over backwards and prey to his wrath. Your lip trembles as he looms over you with his broad build. You second-guess your thoughts from minutes earlier, the blood from your heart pumping into your ears all too loudly.
You should’ve never accepted Vash’s invitation.
You should’ve never put on those beautiful, gifted glass slippers.
You should’ve never given into temptation.
“So now, tell me why…” his voice drops to a poisonous whisper when he crouches beside you. “I also was not able to locate Marche on a recent map.”
His actions repeat from earlier, but this time, they have too much force and strength. Nai grabs your chin almost painfully and ignores your cries of pain when he squeezes your jaw between his hand, forcing you up on your feet to look up at him.
“Y-your highness—”
“You’re a fraud,” Nai declares venomously. “A fake, a trespasser, and a criminal who wants to squeeze every living cent out of my brother, yes? Tell me, you pest…” his grip on your jaw tightens so harshly, you’re frightened that your cheeks, now beginning to stain with pained tears, will bruise from his fingers and your attempt at prying his fingers off work to no avail. You’re frightened that your teeth will squeeze out of their cavings from the strength of his grip. “What did you want from Vash? Money? Jewels? Or did you wish to harm him in the work of another kingdom? Are you a spy? Answer me, snake.”
Your rapid shakes of your head do not convince Nai that you aren’t a threat at all, only making his hand that grips your jaw go to your throat. “I am none of th-those…”
“Liar!” Nai thunders, his voice booming throughout the garden as he draws his sword from his hip and places it aside your throat, the prick of the blade grazing your skin. Nai’s eyes wind with malice as your gaping ones that tangle with fear stare straight at him. “Tell me the truth or face a fate worse than death it—”
“Nai! Let go of them!”
Prince!Vash goes to sprint towards you from the entrance of the palace’s courtyard. Nai drops you out of shock and your fight or flight instincts finally begin to kick in when your nerves thaw from the shock.
You watch for another split, merciful second as Vash quickens in pace, but he’s still much too far to reach you in time. As you get up, your slippers barely supporting your weight, fatigue is beginning to kick in much too early. The muscles in your limbs ache and suddenly feel all too heavy for your liking, but with a final burst of strength given to you by an unknown will, you manage to get away from his grasp by shoving him. The strength shocks both you and him, however, and launches you straight backwards into the stone statue of the late queen. You can only watch in horror as it lands forward, shattering into little pebbles of cobblestone.
The impact of the statue of Rem Saverem knocks you down to your feet again, as well as Prince!Nai, and he uses your disposition to his advantage before you can start your getaway. His hand determinedly locks around the heel of your slipper as he hisses out, “You… are not going anywhere, trespasser.”
“Please—!” you cry out as you tug with all your strength from his grip, vision blurring from the tears that rim around your eyes. “I meant no harm!”
Another wave of strength fueled by adrenaline rushes through your body and through the fatigue, through the fear, through the horror of it all, you manage to slip your foot away from your slipper before finally sprinting away.
Prince!Nai begins to get up and chase after you until he’s tackled shockingly by Vash, forcing the two into a wrestling fight on the dirt. Nai shouts at him to let go and chase after the trespasser, with Vash retaliating with a firm decline and holding him down to the best of his abilities whilst taking in the kicks and punches and insults Nai forces upon him. Unwillingly, he blows a punch to Nai’s gut and Nai spits out a mixture of blood and saliva, doubling over on the garden floor that’s now littered with trashed petals of flowers and speckles of stone and marble because of two.
The head of Queen Rem Saverem’s eyes glisten up at them almost disappointingly in the moonlight.
Vash staggers up slowly, limping from the scratch marks his elder brother clawed into his leg. He glares at his brother through a black eye. “They said it themselves, they meant no harm!”
“Who were they, Vash?!” Nai cuts in, glaring up at him. “If they meant no harm… who were they?!”
Prince!Vash can only look at Nai almost pityingly as his chest rises and falls. If he were to admit who you truly were… he knew for a fact Nai would have you exiled from the kingdom… or worse, executed entirely. He couldn’t let that happen—even with his excuses that he was the one that dragged you into this mess. His brother’s bias towards him could never be swayed.
He licks his lips, his eyes glancing at your minimizing figure in the distance.
“I…”
“Your highnesses!”
Prince!Nai and Prince!Vash look behind them to see Livio, Monev, and Legato rushing toward the two, all three appalled at the scene in the now-ruined portion of the garden and the sight of two dirtied princes with dirt and blood soiling them.
They do not have time to ask what on earth had happened, as Nai has already devised a plan to capture and punish the trespasser accordingly. His eyes fleet over to the crystal slipper clenched firmly in his fist, tightening it in his grasp more at the sight of it as a reminder of his failure to properly protect his brother from the lowlife that call themselves commoners.
“Tomorrow…” he heaves with a steady breath, his eyes darkening as he stares at the slipper, “Get every single young person in the kingdom into the palace and force this upon their foot.
“This…” He raises up the glass slipper for all of them to see. “... shall help us catch our criminal and punish them accordingly.”
“Nai—” Vash pleads through a bleeding lip. “Don’t!”
“Once you do find who suits the slipper,” Nai continues, before turning to where you ran off. His eyes bleed into your disappearing figure venomously before he picks up his sword and throws it at Legato’s feet.
“Bring them to me at once. Alive. I want to see them beheaded with my own two eyes.”
(a/n): hi again! i recently just watched the 2015 live action version of cinderella, and my, was it gorgeous. as the main inspo for this piece, i hope that the cinderella aspects were clear enough in this with my own twists to the story, since that was my main aim. i may include another part to this, maybe even turning it into a miniseries as a whole for all the nai lovers out there (i did him dirty here, sorry!!) because i myself want to include something for him, but i'll see how this piece does first and if anyone would be interested in a part ii to this.
other than that, thank you for reading, and reblogs are always appreciated :] !!
#trigun#trigun stampede#trigun 1998#vash the stampede#vash the stampede x reader#vash x reader#vash x you#vash smut#vash fluff#millions knives#knives millions#millions knives x reader#millions knives x you#knives x reader#nai x reader#knives x you#nai x you#millions knives smut#millions knives angst#trigun x reader#trigun fanfic#mini-series ; if the shoe fits
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Delicious
✧Pairing✧: Knives x f!Reader
✧Content✧: orgasm denial, reader is desperate, teasing, Knives loves to watch reader squirm.
✧W/C✧: 210 words
Knives has you straddling his hip, fingers digging deep onto your waist while his dick glides against the outside of your weeping cunt. The both of you moaning and panting, but he loves how you're an absolute mess over him.
He's denied your orgasms multiple times, refusing to penetrate you. Tears flowed freely from the corner of your eyes, his cock rubbing against your clit being too much. His hands reach up to cradle your face, his fingers wiping away the tears.
"You poor human, not getting what you want, are we?" you shake your head, no, in response, but he still denies you the relief you desperately seek from him. "you think you deserve this cock? I love refusing your needy pussy, becoming a complete mess while begging for this dick." he brings your face closer to his lips and whispers. "the thought of your denied pleasure makes this particular moment delicious."
Before you have time to react, he bucks up, and his cock forcefully penetrates you completely. The shock of being full suddenly makes you scream in pleasure. He groans and stills for a few minutes, lips still so close to your ear. "but feeling your needy cunt, soft and wet around me, makes it even more delicious."
#knives millions#millions knives#trigun smut#trigun drabble#nai x reader#knives x reader#million knives x reader#million knives smut#knives millions smut#knives x you#nai x you#trigun blurbs
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The guy next door
Millions Knives x GN Reader
Synopsis: you're a stressed and overworked college student with a neighbor who likes to get on you about self care
Warnings: none really? slight mentions of food deprivation
─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"How much longer are you going to continue to toss in your sleep?"
You sighed heavily, picking up the phone and staring angrily at the screen. "If you hate it so much, you can either: A. hang up or B. come over and bring some food, cause I'm hungry," Huffing as you rolled onto your back, you got out of bed and trudged across the room, stretching. "Specifically a turkey sandwich, make sure you panini press it." The clock read ten past midnight, and insomnia was a bitch. You opened the door to enter the hallway towards the kitchen. A massive project was due at the end of the week, but you figured you couldn't get anything done with the burnout you were experiencing.
Nai scoffed, his voice loud from being on speaker mode. "I would sooner be shot in the leg than deliver you any package at this hour. Do you not have any food in your apartment?" You could basically feel his irritation radiating from the screen.
"Uh... would a spoonful of oregano count? If we're feeling spicy, we can just do a glass of water." You silently laughed, putting the phone on a table and flicking the lights on. Food was never a priority considering how much work you always were having to catch up on (procrastination). Eating became an afterthought to allow yourself more time to sit hunched over your laptop, typing countless essays. Unfortunate, but there wasn't much you could do about it. There was a knock on the front door as you passed the living room. Who the hell... You cautiously walked over and looked through the peephole. Huh. A big grin was on your face as you opened the door, arms crossed. "Well, look who it is."
Nai pursed his lips as he shoved a paper bag into your hands. "The thought of you standing in your kitchen, shoving fistfuls of spices into your mouth, was too pathetic to bear," He stepped inside and looked around your messy apartment in distaste. "Did I not just clean this last week?"
He had, in fact, cleaned the living room last week, including the rest of the house, but you played deaf, humming as you followed him. The two of you have been neighbors for months, his place next to yours, which is how he came over so quickly. Irritating him was your favorite pastime, half because of his reaction and the other because you loved being close to him. You would never admit that to him, though; he would never let you live it down. But none of this really explained why he had your food prepared as soon as you'd asked. Maybe he was some kind of off-brand supernatural speed demon and happened to do it fast? You wouldn't put it past him.
He suddenly stopped walking, and you bumped into him, hissing as you grabbed your head in pain. Why was his back built like concrete? "Ugh, you good? Kind of hard to walk if you're just gonna stand in the middle of the hallway like that."
A slight scowl was on his face as he turned to face you, having just now entered the kitchen. There were piles of dishes in the sink and boxes of delivery everywhere, most notably cheap Chinese takeout (orange chicken got you through writer's block). You hadn't had time to clean recently; more often than not, you were just eating to feed your brain and then going straight back to work.
Sitting down and actually enjoying a meal hasn't been a reality ever since you started university. There just wasn't enough time. "I thought we agreed that you would buy groceries this week."
You shrugged, going to set the paper bag down on the counter. "I can last a few more days without them. There are leftovers from what I hadn't finished yet," When you pulled out the container of food, a smile came on your face again. Not only had Nai made your sandwich, but he had given you a side of salad, along with freshly cut fruit. He always ensured you had nutrients instead of just fats and grease in your meals. "How did you end up making this so quickly anyways?"
"I had it already made. I assumed you would be neglecting your basic human needs, and I was proven right once again."
What a smartass. Rolling your eyes, you sat down to eat your food. As you took a bite of the sandwich, you sighed happily and closed your eyes in satisfaction. He was a smartass, but damn, could he cook. You popped an apple slice into your mouth and glanced at him, getting a trash bag to clean up. "You really don't have to do that. It's not your responsibility," All you got was a grunt in response, making you laugh softly. "For someone who complains everytime he does it, you always insist on cleaning up after me."
You rested your elbows on the table, cradling your head in your hands as you stared at him. He looked really good for someone who was half asleep at 12 am. He always insisted on wearing a tight black turtleneck to bed, no matter what. Your eyes rolled over the crevices of his flexing back muscles as he picked up trash. Had he been working out more? How did he even find the time? Nai took as many classes as you did, but he always seemed one step ahead of his work, all while balancing a healthy routine as well. He went on runs, played piano in his spare time, and even meal prepped.
In some ways, you envied him. To have your life put together in that way seemed impossible for you. "You know, I never call anybody," He stopped moving and turned his head to look at you, but you kept talking, not even paying attention. "I get too anxious for that, so I prefer texting. But for some reason, you always insist on doing these nightly calls, even when we see each other every other day. Why? Especially when you always complain about me tossing and turning." You said playfully as you took another bite of your sandwich. Why did he have to be so good at cooking too? Fuck.
There was silence as he got up to tie the garbage bag and wash his hands. You glanced around the kitchen, which looked remarkably cleaner. All he did was pick up trash, which looked better than when you did chores for a full day. Who the hell was this dude?
As Nai dried his hands off, you finished your food, sighing contentedly. Then, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over your body as you started to sway. He grabbed your shoulder, keeping you from almost hitting your head on the table. You weren't even phased as he picked you up and carried you in his arms back to your room like you weighed nothing. Guess the all-nighters finally caught up to you. He glanced down at you as he made his way to the back of the apartment, but you barely noticed due to how tired you were. There was a comfortable quietness between you two, as there always was. Sometimes, words didn't need to be said; his presence was enough. Again, you would never say this out loud. He would become insufferable. What a bitch.
As he stepped into your room, he delicately placed you on your bed, and you yawned, laying your head on the pillow. Jesus, you really were exhausted. As your eyelids started to flutter shut, you felt something touching your face. You looked up to see Nai's finger caressing your cheek with an unreadable expression. He then spoke quietly, "You are one of the only people who attempt to converse with me. I never understood why; I am not a fun person to talk to." He leaned over and got closer to your face, meeting your gaze. "However, I've grown fond of you regardless. And as such, I've also started to enjoy hearing your voice, which is why I call you."
You stared at him, suddenly wide awake. He was never one to talk about himself, much less his feelings. The two of you never had such intimate conversations, and on the rare occasion you did, it was always you ranting to him as he quietly listened. To hear him confess his true motives like this, it felt foreign. But it also made you... happy?
"As insufferable as you are, to be without you is like torture. I feel the urge to care for you and keep you safe. I clean up your apartment because I know you won't do it yourself. I make your favorite meals because you deprive yourself of things you need to stay alive. It's an integral part of my life that I can't bear to part with, and I want to keep cherishing you like this as long as I can. Because I care about you. More than you'll ever realize," He gives you a small kiss on the forehead as he stands up to leave. "Now rest, and I'll come to visit you in the morning." As he leaves, you roll over on your back to stare at the ceiling. He likes you. Holy shit, he likes you. Dear god.
A/N: i was NOT expecting so many people to find my account already LMAO, i'm honored
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What happened…?
Tired college students commemorate one more day of survival
Nai communicates through actions rather than words. (Acts of service FRRRR)
Your eyelashes flutter, breath stuttering upon the realization that the crisp linens and fabric softener scent surrounding you were in fact- not your possessions.
They were his.
Angelic, soft white hair lays spread across his pillow, eyelids opening to reveal his ethereal celeste blue eyes.
How the hell did you even get here? Nothing indecent had transpired between you two- god, of course not, you both had decency. But literally sleeping next to one of your classmates? Who probably found you annoying to no end?
Yeah, not a walk in the park. Not an easy situation to navigate.
“Shit, sorry..” You turned to sit up, Nai following suit. “I don’t know..” your voice drawls off as you intensely stare at your hands in your lap, a futile attempt to ignore the looming presence behind your person.
“You fell asleep on the couch last night.” He explained, “Vash had his.. friend over, so he insisted you rest here. Although I wouldn’t allow you to hog my room for the night.” He huffs frustratedly, “I sincerely hope you had no morning class today, it’s past 7.”
You rack your brain for any semblance of a schedule, and groan. Yeah, your morning class with Vash, and he might’ve slept in. Maybe you could get notes from Meryl.
That also explained the teasing lilt in his voice. “Not a morning person, are you?” You turned around to retort, “And you are?”
“Not really.” He shrugged, standing up to roll his shoulders. “You need to eat, get up.” His eyebrow quirked at your incredulous expression, “What, is your idiocy catching up to you?”
“Yeah, yeah..” you groaned, following him out of his room to the kitchen. He absentmindedly shoved two bagels into the toaster, rummaging the fridge for spread and whatnot.
You stood straight like a bowling pin, having no idea what to do in the slightest. “Uh.. can I help?”
“Drawer to my left, two down. You’ll find a butter knife.” He pauses, “You do enjoy cream cheese, correct?” You walk to fetch him the butter knife before answering, “Yeah, cream cheese is fine.”
It’s a silent exchange as the bagels pop up, and you walk to grab them, bringing them to him as he holds out two Star Wars paper plates for you to place them on.
“Vash insisted.” He spreads the cream cheese on them, “Found them at CVS and insisted we need them.” He scoffs.
“I dunno, I’d say it suits you.” It most certainly did not, Nai Saverem in his petal cloak snuggie spreading cream cheese on bagels placed on a Star Wars paper plate.
It was oddly..
domestic.
#trigun stampede#millions knives#knives millions#pining#mutual pining#chris writes#fanfic#drabble#knives x You#college au knives#nai saverem#knives x reader#nai x You#nai x reader#Trigun#trigun college au
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Hello Berry! I just wanted to slide a request your way cause I'm not gonna lie the fanfic you wrote with vash where the reader has stretchmarks almost had me in tears cause I'm so self-conscious about mine and it just made me so happy to read it.
So, I was wondering if I could have a fanfic with that same premise with nai? 🥺
I want all the plant boys!
🍰Anon (if it's okay to be called that)
Stretch Marks (Knives Version)
Summary: Knives find himself enamored with a little human quirk he was previously in the dark about.
Authors Note: Hello!! I'm so glad my writing was able to help you! That's really all I've wanted from my writing, to have people read it and feel better about themselves and/or just enjoy it in any way! I hope you enjoy this one just as much as my Vash one! (Also, you're totally welcome to be the 🍰 Anon) And, once again, here's your tag @blackkiwi :) hope you all love it !
Warnings: Mild nudity, sexual themes, self-hate
His fascination with the human boggled everyone, even his great mind was submerged deep in confusion; so much, in fact, that at first he was completely convinced they were an independent like him. There was no possible way a human could garner his attention (and later on, his affection) so, therefore, the only logical solution to this little puzzle was that she was, in fact, not human. Every moment—well, every moment he wasn’t brooding over the melancholic mood he had decided to live within—was spent thinking about her. She’s strange, kind, and unbearably interesting. It took a month or so for him to finally come to the conclusion—and accept said conclusion—that she was human, nothing more nothing less. Of course that realization was detrimental in so many different ways it would take a hundred years to write about the emotional turmoil and confliction he felt; but, on days like this, he supposed his feelings weren’t all that bad.
“Are you going to drink it?” She sipped on her tea and pointed at the steaming cup (it was ceramic and a painfully awkward blue that clashed with the entirety of her kitchen, but she said she bought it because “it reminded me of you”. Despite his protests, and the want for a different, less ugly cup, she had assigned him to the blue cup; and only the blue cup).
He looked at the murky liquid, “no.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want it.”
“So you just came all this way to stare at me?”
He huffed and took the cup, looking around at the quaint little house he had somehow found himself in. “I was in town. That’s all.” He really shouldn’t be here, more pressing matters nipping at the base of his heels, clawing at his back like starved, abused dogs. The world was begging him to leave, to complete his mission and his faith, but for the first time in a long time, he ignored it.
He took a small sip.
She smiled, “Oh yeah, right. Just in town, decided to stop by. That’s the story you’re going with?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Nai.”
He didn’t know if he was annoyed she had the audacity to use a nickname, or excited at the prospect that she loved him enough to do so. “You’re the only one who’s ever said such a thing to me.”
“That’s because everyone else is too scared. You know, you’re a little bit intimidating.”
He couldn’t stop the indignant noise that left his throat, “a little?”
She set her cup down and pinched two fingers together, “just a tad.”
“A tad,” he deadpanned.
“Sorry,” she grinned, “a smidge.”
He took another sip of his drink and ignored her. Bastardly human, he cursed in his head. If it had been anyone else, especially a human, that dared to tease him like that, they’d be dead before they knew it; sliced and diced into neat little squares, perfect enough for a tea party snack. Not that he ever had tea parties, or ate people, but the mental image alone was enough to ward off the majority of pests.
She grabbed her cup and walked over to the sink, rinsing it off before putting it away. She yawned and raised her arms, “it’s only seven o’clock but I feel exhausted.”
Nai looked up at her, swirling the cup in his hands idly. The tea wasn’t the best, nor was it something particularly homey or nostalgic enough to make him drink more, but she had poured her time and heart into creating this so, he supposed, drinking it was the least he could do. He took another sip before his eyes settled on her again, most of her body covered by the cup from his perspective.
She groaned, “I have to go to the market today. I’m running low on. . . well, everything. Or, oh no. It’s too late for that I guess. Tomorrow would be a good enough day to go.”
He finished the drink and set the cup to the set (still mildly upset at how ugly it was—the colors really clashed with the rest of the house. If it was his choice, he would’ve gotten rid of the mug ages ago and replaced it with something that matched his taste, or, at the very least, matched the aesthetic of the house). “You do tend to procrastinate.”
“Oh shut up,” she rolled her shoulders back, her shirt riding up ever so slightly. “Give me your cup.” She beckoned him with a wave of her hand.
He wordlessly handed it to her.
She washed it, dried it with an old rag, and slid it in the cupboard next to her favorite mug. “Next time you get to do the dishes.”
He opened his mouth to respond, an insult whipping on the tip of his tongue, but he caught the sight of her bare skin. It looked softer than he had imagined, smooth and—he tilted his head, mind momentarily reeling at what he saw. Little markings, he blinked, like me. He didn’t know how or why, but his chest constricted and the only thing he could feel was the intense blazing emotion of curiosity and. . . something he couldn’t identify.
She has markings.
Like me?
Like me.
He stepped forward and grabbed the hem of her shirt, yanking it up to her chest. The fabric gave way easily enough, revealing what had interested him so. Swirls and lines decorated her belly, wrapping into each other like the galaxies he had seen oh so long ago. The only thing he could think of was how absolutely divine it looked. His view though, his beautifully artistic view, was interrupted with a shove and a loud gasp.
“Wha–what was that?!” she grabbed her shirt and pulled it down, the fabric taunt in her grip, “usually you ask before you go taking people’s shirts off!”
He was focused on her now covered stomach, mind short-circuiting. “Show me again.” The sight was burned into the forefront of his mind, heart giddy with the possibilities. Maybe she was a plant, an independent. Or even, partially so—he’d take that, he’d take anything as long as she wasn’t human. . . would he? Suddenly his excitement turned into a mix of anticipation and anxiety. The thought of rejecting her for being something different from him, it made him sick for a moment. He may be a God, something divinity has blessed, but he was undoubtedly seduced by mortal wiles. Though, and he shoved this thought to the back of his mind, I don’t really mind.
She shook her head, “no–wait, what am I even showing?”
“Those patterns,” he raised his head up, watching her intently, “I want to see them again.”
“Patterns?” she thought for a moment, before a strike of realization hit her face, “my stretch marks?” Her grip loosened every so slightly, before quickly regaining her previous strength.
“Whatever they are,” he raised his hand before pausing and bringing it back. I ask before I take her shirt off. “They’re like mine.” To drive his point home—and, really, looking back he doesn’t know why he gave her the courtesy of understanding his intentions, or his needs, but in the moment it felt right—he let his markings quickly show on the surface of his skin, a low bleeding blue edging out into the country house.
She blinked and whispered, a child-like awe on her face. “can–can I touch them?”
She had known he was a plant since the day they met. He, stealing a dependent from a town, and her watching him with mild confusion and amazement. But she hadn’t seen this side of him—the destruction, hate, and blood, yes. But the somber blue and quiet hums of his soul? No. He hadn’t shown anyone that in a long, long time.
“I suppose,” he looked down at her, “as long as I can touch yours.” The deal was fair enough, he tried to argue in his mind, shoving away the anxieties and sickness at the thought of being touched. It’s all in the pursuit of his curiosity.
She puffed out her cheeks, hesitation clear in her eyes, “fine, but you can’t say anything mean about them okay?”
“Why would I be mean?”
“You’re always mean.”
She reached out and touched his face gently, as if she was afraid he would disappear into the sand dunes that surrounded her home. She traced one line from the right side of his jaw to his nose, before trailing her fingers to his exposed neck. “You’re so pretty,” she mumbled. The skin under her became heated, flushed.
Whether it was a conscious decision or not, he leaned into her touch, the soft feeling of her fingers making his heart stutter. Several markings glowed brighter before he was able to shut them down, pushing his excitement—or, no, he wasn’t excited; he was disgusted that a human was touching him, that’s what it was (oh, what a terrible liar he is). Despite his momentary panic, he let her explore his face and neck, hoping the blue of his markings drowned out the red of his embarrassment. He didn’t have a real reason for why he was letting her do this to him, he should’ve stopped her a while ago, but it felt. . . nice. This was something he had’t experiences in years, a feeling so foreign he had nearly forgotten it.
She pulled back, not missing the way he subtly leaned forward to feel her for a moment longer. “Why do you even want to see my stretch marks?” she whispered, fingers itching to touch him again.
“Because they’re like mine,” he matched her tone, towering over her with no malice or hate, but silent admiration. The thought of her—her touch, her looks, her voice, by God, all of her, it entrapped him in a spell of nothing sort of Love. That's what it was, this feeling. Love. He could feel the anxiety in the back of his throat, the crumbling of his beliefs and ideologies, but those were problems for another day, right now? He was busy falling deeper into this sweet little hole he had dug.
“No they’re not,” she laughed slightly, sadly, “yours are way cooler.”
He tugged at the hem of her shirt, this time asking, “can I?”
She sighed and let her head fall into his chest, “a promise is a promise.”
He resisted the urge to tell her that she needn’t keep her word if it caused her pain, that he would rather she feel happy than obligated. He didn’t though, the well of his curiosity ever growing. “You’re human,” he mumbled, less than gently tugging the shirt off her, “and yet your markings are so similar. . . so beautiful?”
“They’re not markings, well, not in the way you’re thinking of.”
The low light of the setting sun barely reached the windows, slowly plunging them into darkness. Without thinking he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up, momentarily enjoying the sounds of surprise she made as he put her down on the counter. His hands resumed his search, trailing the pads of his fingers across her belly in a loving motion that he had never known he was capable of. “What are they then?”
“Stretch marks.”
He huffed, “explain.”
“They’re like little scars that appear when our skin stretches too fast. I think it can happen when our skin shrinks too? I don’t really know the specifics. I just know they’re annoying and ugly.”
He paused, bringings his hands up to grip her chin, “what?’
She blinked at him owlishly, “what. . .?”
“Are you calling me ugly?”
“Wha–” she let out a laugh, “when did I say that?!”
He ignored the happiness that stabbed his heart when she laughed. “I said our markings are the same, if you say yours are ugly, you are calling mine that as well.”
She thought for a moment, “I guess that makes sense, but you’re forgetting one thing.” She raised a finger and tilted her head, a little grin on her face—the expression did nothing to hide her fear and anxiety.
“What may that be?” he said with a hint of amusement, fingers still holding her jaw.
“You are handsome, I am not. So the markings look different between us. I’m not calling you ugly, don’t worry. You’re actually quite attractive.”
He frowned and leaned forward, forcing her to place her hands behind her on the counter in order not to fall. “You’re right. You’re not handsome.”
She rolled her eyes, “so romantic.”
“You’re stunning,” he savored the squeak of embarrassment that left her mouth, a knowing smirk on his face. I want to hear more, he thought as he trailed down to her stomach, kissing each mark on her belly, “beautiful,” he muttered. “Your loveliness cannot be described.” He reached the band of her pants, hooking a finger around it before he remembered his manners. “Can I?” He looked up at her, grin still present and eyes twinkling with something she couldn’t describe.
“Y–yeah,” she whispered.
He didn’t go any further, tilting his head with a waiting expression.
“What?” she tried to hold his eye contact but it became too intense, and she looked away, chest starting to rise and fall rapidly. What have I gotten myself into?
“Look at me,” he commanded, pleased when she obeyed without a second to spare. He should talk to her like that more often, maybe indulge in her flesh if she listened so deliciously like that. “I heeded your words, didn’t I? You said I have to ask before I do things like this, yes?”
She nodded.
“Say you’re proud then.”
“I’m proud,” she stumbled out, all hints of her teasing nature drowned out by her bewilderment (and pure, unrestrained excitement).
He pulled back, trapping her in between his arms, “that’s boring,” he muttered, “come up with some creative praise. I’ve been so nice to you, haven’t I? Isn’t it only fair?” He whispered in her ear, laughing at the shiver that racked her body. With a hum he trailed back down her body, saving his softer affections for her stomach, her marks.
He reached her pants again in no time, looking at her expectedly.
“You’re beautiful,” she blurted out.
“Not good enough.”
“Divine,” she uttered.
“Think, Darling, or else I’m going to stop right here.” He played with the edge of her pants, thumbing the material as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. God, how he loved to play with her.
“Y-you’re,” she tossed her head back and groaned, mind flying as she tried to think of a compliment. After a moment she wrapped her legs around him, making him give her a questioning hum, and grabbed his face. “You’re my God,” she whispered, “mine alone. You’re wonderful and strong, a holy being that I am blessed to have around me.”
He could’ve sworn he died at that moment—and if he had, he would’ve gone happily.
She buried her face in his neck, practically whining with embarrassment. “I can’t believe you made me say that.”
He wrapped an arm around her, pressing her into the counter, collecting himself before he spoke, “that was good. I knew you’d learn eventually.” With a deep, burning red, he hid his face in her stomach, going back to tracing her stretch marks. Faint blue markings glided up his neck, curling around the flesh of his face—he didn’t bother to stop it this time. With a single motion he helped her rid herself of her pants, letting out a deep sigh when he saw the rest of her markings.
“You didn’t say you had more.”
“Well,” she finally gained her confidence back, letting out a huff, “you never asked.”
He, with the same awe and amazement as earlier, observed her thighs as if he was a starved man, denied of any mortal pleasures (though, he supposed he had never done anything like this before). “I want to see all of them,” he tugged at her underwear, “they’re too beautiful to hide.” If it was up to him, he'd have her naked in his presence all the time, solely for observing how heavenly she looked.
She grabbed his hand and snapped it away, “you didn’t ask that time.”
He tilted his head and smiled wickedly, “I guess I didn’t hmm? Where are my manners? Here, can I see all of you? Bare and unobstructed?”
She gripped his hands and turned her head away, “you’re a bastard.”
“That’s not a compliment,” he whispered.
“You’re my bastard.”
He laughed, a sound she cherished deeply, “that doesn’t count.”
#this is the first time I've written for his chr#so I hope i was able to do him justice#trigun#trigun stampede#trigun anime#trigun manga#Knives x reader#Knives x you#Knives x y/n#Knives#Nai x you#Nai x reader#Nai x y/n#Knives trigun#trigun Knives#trigun x reader#trigun x you#trigun x y/n#trigun fanfiction#trigun fics#trigun fic
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Researcher ! Vash who gets pushed into the ocean by some rotten people who hate how Vash's research team is trying to put up laws to protect the wildlife.
Researcher ! Vash who is a terrible swimmer and finds himself sinking lower and lower to the ocean floor.
Researcher ! Vash who could feel his lungs start to compress. His whole insides burning as he was running out of air.
Researcher ! Vash who felt a gentle pull on his ankle and looked down to see a shadow beneath him.
Researcher ! Vash who suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and drag him upwards. The water rushing past him as his head immediately broke the surface. His mouth gasping for air. Oxygen being quick to fill his lungs as he splashed around for a moment only to realize he wasn't going anywhere and was still being tightly held.
Researcher ! Vash who finally focuses on the face that is peering at him. His eyes widening as he took in the beauty before him.
Were you a siren? A mermaid? He looked down, and through the surface of the water he could make out a glittering tail. Though when he looked back up, his eyes focused on the horn that protruded from your head. He couldn't resist the urge to touch it.
Researcher ! Vash who was allowed to poke and prod at you as he forgot about being pushed over a cliff and almost drowned and who instead focused on you.
Researcher ! Vash who tried to ask if you could speak or talk in his language but was interrupted by his brother's voice calling out to him.
Researcher ! Vash who was brought back to shore and with a small wave, you were long gone - disappearing back into the deep.
Researcher ! Vash who was immediately engulfed into a tight hug by his brother.
Researcher ! Vash who proudly exclaimed to his brother what he just saw.
"You wouldn't believe it Nai! It was a unicorn! A sea unicorn!"
Researcher ! Vash who wasn't at all good at mythology and doesn't have any knowledge over the different types of mythological creatures.
Then there is researcher ! Nai who just sighs in disappointment (but also wonders if it was you who saved his brother...).
#trigun x you#trigun#trigun stampede vash#trigun stampede#knives#trigun knives#trigun nai#vash x y/n#vash x you#vash x reader#nai x reader#nai x you#nai x y/n#knives x reader
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okay hear me out hear me out
Nai learning how to cook for you.
Millions Knives, big scary Plant man busting out one of those how-to-cook-for-beginners cookbooks and attempting to cook you a meal.
Since he himself doesn't it he doesn't quite Get It. Like why do humans spend so much energy and resources to prepare their food? Why are there certain foods that are meant for this and that occasion?
Still, he tries his best to whip something up and he decides to go with something he deems suitable. Think, a dish that's delicious but not too complicated to make.
At some point, while preparing a meal he's low-key questioning his sanity because again big scary Plant man is trying to cook for a human. Ew.
(Nai is smitten and down bad but he'd rather die than admit that.)
He won't burn down the kitchen or something but he'll accidentally damage the counter once or twice while chopping something up.
His name is literally Millions Knives, HE CAN MAKE A MILLION KNIVES but he's subpar at using kitchen knives. If he's cutting up potatoes or carrots into squares it'll look like shit fr.
Nai will set the table up all fancy once he's done cooking.
Though he only sets up one plate and that's for you and for you only. He doesn't eat, eating is below him.
(He is watching you eat happily wee)
Eventually, cooking becomes a regular thing for you. Sometimes you'd do it together with Nai doing the meal prep and dishes while you did the actual cooking.
Sometimes and I mean SOMETIMES Nai does eat something and its usually pastas or noodles.
Man hates the feeling of chewing or eating in general so consider it a miracle that he even CHOSE to eat.
He does pick up baking at some point and you guys had banana (are banana's even a thing in trigun) bread for WEEKS.
Overall, he's a great cook but don't expect him to make his own variations/recipes.
OKAY THAT WAS LOWKEY A MESS BUT I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT. this might be ooc but who cares knives needs a hobby that isn't ominously playing two person piano pieces in this weird space onesie as he plans the destruction of humankind.
#trigun stampede x reader#trigun x reader#tristamp x reader#trigun imagines#nai x reader#nai x you#millions knives x reader#i want to punch this man.#my friend said that knives should've been absorbed in the womb because he's ugly#how tf does his tristamp outfit even work??? is that his skin??
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Revelation(s)
Summary: You look up and there before you is a pale man. His name is Nai and his companion is the knife. He seeks authority over the planet, to kill the spiders so that the butterflies may survive...or Nai finds you literally buried in the sand and decides to spare your life for unclear reasons.
Word Count: 2,900
Warning: character injury (mentions of blood), knives (obviously), Tesla’s backstory (nongraphic torture and what happens to their body after), i think that’s everything but let me know if i missed something!
Notes: If you’re all caught up with tristamp there are no spoilers! Takes place before Vash and the gang make it to July.
Nights in No Man’s Land are cool. Mornings are filled with stagnant heat from the planet’s sun. The warmth from the great red giant is oppressive. Its rays burn and blister the skin. Unforgiving and unrelenting, the days here are marred by sweat, liquid hot.
You read somewhere long ago in a book about lost technology that moons were once thought to control the tides. The sea and its waters ebbed and flowed, swayed by the pull of something far, far away. There are no seas in No Man’s Land. No waves to crest and fall. Here, on this dry, barren planet, the oceans are made of the sand and her dunes, moved only by the worms beneath it, not some heavenly body from above.
Still, maybe the five moons of this planet are trying to move and sway something, for there’s a gentle breeze when they’re out that simply isn’t there in the morning. It’s that cool, gentle breeze that you find comfort in this night. You are trapped, half buried in the sand, held there by a collapsed metal beam, but at least you can see the stars.
There’s a nasty gash on your forehead just above your left eye. Blood’s been steadily trickling into the thing for hours, obstructing your vision. The wound stung when you first got it. Now it’s just numb. The only proof you have now of the injury are the ruby red droplets slipping slower and slower down your skin.
The night is quite save for your labored breathing. You figure it won’t be long now.
Footsteps. Somewhere behind you. The metal beam pushing down on your stomach prevents you from turning to look. You wouldn’t have had the energy to even if you wanted. Besides, you’re so far gone it’s possible there aren’t actually any footsteps at all.
A shadow. A silhouette made visible by the moon light. Someone is here and they are looming over your slumped form.
“Pathetic,” comes a disembodied voice. The part of you that remains lucid swears you’ve heard it before.
“Vash?” you ask. Is it possible? Had your traveling companion come back for you.
“Not quite,” the voice tuts.
Then he’s in front of you, large and looming like the horsemen of death. You recognize him and you don’t. His build and frame are familiar, but even in the darkness you can tell this isn’t your Vash. It’s the eyes that make the difference. They’re bitter and angry. Icy and cold like the breeze that’s been soothing you.
“So this is what my brother has been up to,” the man muses. “Traipsing around with you and your ilk. Some days I swear he’s just as pathetic as you.”
Brother. You suppose that makes sense, though the Vash you knew never spoke of a twin.
“Well?” he’s demanding. “Got anything to say for yourself?”
“I don’t know where Vash is.”
He crouches so that he’s eye level with you and rolls his eyes. “I don’t remember asking. I’m not here for him. I’m not ready for him yet.”
Your face scrunches, “What-”
His fingers wind their way through your hair, gripping it so tightly you feel like a puppet pulled by a string. He forces your face closer to his own so that he can inspect you properly. When he survey’s you, his eyes are sharp, like those of a hawk catching sight of its prey. You manage to stare back with your good eye, the one that isn’t pooling with blood, though there must be something wrong with that one too because the man before you is fuzzy, blurred and misshapen, like a picture out of focus.
When he drops you suddenly, your head lulls to the side.
“Pathetic,” he repeats. “I don’t get what he sees in you weak little creatures. I mean, look at you, in this bad of shape due to a little blood loss. What do you think, hmm? Should I leave you here to bleed out drop after agonizing drop, or should I just ago ahead and finish you off?”
There’s a sound, a burst of light, and the man before you is engulfed in a tornado of something sharp and silver. It takes a minute for your brain to process what it’s seeing: millions and millions of swirling knives.
Your eyes widen, “What are you?”
The monster before you smiles, “An independent.”
And then your world goes black.
***
When you wake, it’s into a deep darkness. It’s so dark in fact, you figure you’ve either actually died or been struck blind. With some effort, you manage to peel open your eyes. The room you’re in is unfamiliar. As you sit, a wave of pain cascades down your back and spine. So not dead or blind, then, for death surely cannot be this painful.
There’s a man in the room with you. The same one as before. The one who wears Vash’s face.
“What do you know of Eden?” he asks you. Clutched in his lithe fingers is a thick paperback book, the spine worn with read. The Bible, you realize. His eyes never leave the page.
“The garden?” you ask, your voice hoarse. It strikes you suddenly how thirsty you are.
He rolls his eyes and snaps the books shut. “Yes, the garden. What do you know of it?”
You consider him now that his eyes are on you. There’s a strange look in them that you can’t quite place. Something serious and dangerous.
Your family wasn’t pious. There was a church in the small town you grew up in, but people hardly ever attended. Even the priest spent more time drinking than preaching. Still, you somehow think your answer to his question may determine just how long you get to remain breathing, so you say, “It was supposed to be a paradise for the first humans, but a creature tempted Eve with a fruit forbidden and after she convinced Adam to eat it with her, they were cast out.”
He nods, smiles.
“A world without humans.”
He seems fond of the idea.
“Is that your goal?” you ask him. “A world without humans? A new Eden.”
He stands to leave, “I doubt a thing like you could understand.”
***
A man with hair the color of the sky on a cloudless day brings you some food and water, grumbling to himself about babysitting though he doesn’t stay more than a minute, practically flinging the tray of food onto your bedside table before stomping and storming away.
“Legato,” Nai will tell you later, not long after he gifts you his own name. “He was my first.”
“First what?” you ask between bites of food. You’d refused it at first, but Nai hadn’t liked that. Started ranting and raving about how he didn’t go through all the trouble of having his doctor save your stupid life just for you to throw it away in some half-hearted hunger strike.
(When you asked him why he had chosen to save you, he had no answer).
Nai ignores your question—as he often does—to ask you one of his own. He seems to like to question you, though you’re not sure what you’re on trial for. Your humanity it often seems. “What do you know about plants?”
You shrug from the bed you haven’t managed to leave in days. The doctor worked miracles to repair your back and legs, but they remained mostly lost to you. Stiff and unsteady.
“They’re the source of our water on No Man’s Land.”
He’s sitting reclined in a chair, elbow propped up on the arm rest, two fingers next to his eye, a thumb below his chin as he observes you. The ease and nonchalance at which he studies you makes your blood boil with rage. He’s right to feel so unthreatened by you. You are only human after all. What could you possibly do to creature like him?
“Where do they get it?” he asks, tone bored yet undercut with something sinister.
You sigh, closing your eyes to pinch at the brink of your nose. “I don’t know, Nai.”
He’s smiling when you look at him again, as if he’s caught you somehow. You’ve clearly given him the answer he sought.
“Have you ever seen one?”
You shake your head.
“Would you like to?”
***
You don’t understand what you’re looking at. Surely, this floating white sphere in a tank cannot be what has kept the people of the planet fed and watered for nearly a century or more. At first, you think you may be looking at a gigantic filter, but then the sphere begins to unfurl and you’re left with more questions than answers.
Still, Nai is looking expectantly at you, waiting for your reaction, so you say, “They’re beautiful.”
Which is true. The creature before you is pale and soft like the moons of the planet, shining and shimmering with an almost blinding white light. It has a head and body not unlike your own: two arms, two legs. And then, of course, there are the wings.
“They’re kin.”
You look from Nai to the creature and start to piece parts of the puzzle together. “You’re related to them. You and Vash both. You’re plants.”
“Independents,” he corrects. “There’s a difference.”
He’s staring intensely at you now, arms crossed, icy eyes burning holes through your soul. It takes you some time to realize that he wants you to figure it out, so you give it your best guess, “Independents can exist outside this container.”
There go his eyes. Rolling. They never seem to stay still when he’s with you. “Obviously. Dig deeper. How come I can stand here before you and they can’t?” His tone is condescending and patronizing. He scolds you like a teacher does a disappointing pupil.
“You’re…” you try again, determined not to be disappointing, “sentient?”
He nods lightly yet encouragingly. “Go on.”
“You and Vash,” you continue slow and unsure. “You’re more alive than them somehow. More aware. Conscious and able to make more decisions.”
“Perceptive girl,” Nai hums. You think he might be complimenting you, though his facial expression remains strikingly neutral.
He may be pleased at your perceptiveness, but a creeping unsettledness suddenly begins to worm its way into your heart. “Plants…” you muse aloud. Nai is watching you. Waiting to see what epiphany, if any, you have next. “We humans called you that. That’s the name we gave you. Is it accurate?”
“What do you think?”
You frown. You think this thing in the tank looks an awful lot like an angel.
“Can they consent?” you ask him suddenly. “Do they know what’s happening to them?”
He’s smiling now, something wide and toothy and predatory like you’re a fly he’s caught in his well woven web. He asks you again. “What do you think?”
You think, begrudgingly, that whatever these plants are, you’d die without them.
***
“Are there others?” you ask him one day.
By now you’ve learned where you are: an opulent city called July. A hearty, healthy plant crashed here during the big fall—which you’ve come to learn Nai and Vash caused—and people built their lives around it.
“Other what?” he asks in return. “Be more specific.” He’s sitting at a grand piano beating the same song into the keys over and over and over.
“Other independents.” You’re sitting on the cold floor beside his piano bench, resting your back against it.
He waits until he’s finished playing the song one last time to address you. “There was another,” he confirms for you. “One other.”
He’s shifted his body so he can look at you fully. You turn to face him as well. After months and months of entertaining the beast, you think you finally understand how to play its game. He won’t elaborate unless you ask. He likes to make you beg.
“Who were they?”
“Their name was Tesla,” he says. “I never met them.” He pauses, then corrects himself, “Well, actually, I suppose I did meet them. Twice actually. But by then it was too late.”
Nai only ever feeds you scraps. He likes to keep you hungry. Wants you coming back for more.
“What happened to them?” you ask, humoring him. You think at his core, Nai is incredibly lonely. There’s no other reason for him to keep someone like you around. You’re not like Legato. You don’t believe in him or his desire for a new Eden. If he were to finally sate you and your appetite, you’d both go mad with boredom.
“Humans,” he bites. “What else. You and your kind can never just leave anything well enough alone. It wasn’t enough for you to destroy your own planet and the flora and animal life there; you had to destroy this one too. And on the backs of my brothers and sisters.”
Anger isn’t unusual for him. He doesn’t seem to realize it, but all his anger makes him oh so very human. His emotions bring him closer to what it is he hates the most.
“What happened to Tesla?” you ask again.
“They came to me,” he says, “in a dream. They led me to where the humans on that ship were keeping what was left of their body. Alive two hundred twenty-nine days, and every one of them torture. You humans pumped them full of so much poison there was hardly anything left of them when they died. An arm. A brain. Their eyes. All stored in three separate containers. Preserved like trophies. And he has the gall to insinuate I’m the sadist. Every fucking thing I did thereafter I did for him!”
His fist slams down on the piano. The instrument wails in protest. You jump at the sound.
Talking to Nai can feel like diffusing a bomb. Cut the wrong wire, and he’s bound to explode. You aren’t sure what to say to him now. It isn’t your job as his captive to comfort him. Still, there’s something in those stone-cold eyes of his that wasn’t there before. Something sorrowful.
“Everything you did you did for Vash.”
He sighs, posture slumping. Nai’s tired, you realize. Of what you can’t be sure.
“He’s too weak to survive as a plant so he acts the dim witted fool to win him the affections of humans instead. Why do you think he behaves the way he does? He’s shrinking himself to not seem harmful or dangerous to you and your kind. You’d hunt him for sport or string him up and suck him dry like you’re doing our brethren if you knew his true nature. I had to protect him. I had to protect us.”
An arm. A brain. Some eyes. That’s all that was left of Tesla. Humans consumed everything else. Maybe that’s what Nai is so afraid of. Maybe that’s why he’s so angry all the time. You picture your mother hacked up and pickled. Suddenly it isn’t so hard to empathize with Nai.
“What are you going to do?” you ask him. He’s never actually told you his plan. Just bits and pieces of it. You’re not sure if he wants to keep you ignorant or if he wants you to figure it out for yourself. “How are you going to protect your kind?”
A little while back he brought a preacher to your room. Asked you to share everything you knew about Vash with the man. You assured both of them that it wasn’t much—you’d only traveled with Vash a few weeks at most—but Nai insisted, hanging on every word. You wondered how long it’d been since Nai saw his brother in the flesh.
Vash is involved in all this somehow. Nai needs him in July.
Nai is looking down at you from the bench, lips pressed firmly together into a thin straight line. It’s the first time he’s contemplated sharing everything with you. “The extinction of your kind means nothing while my own remain little more than conduits and shells.”
You nod. That makes sense. Vash and Nai are the only independents. Even if Nai managed to exterminate your kind, the plants would be no more sentient then than they were before.
“You want them conscious,” you say. “Independent like you and Vash.”
He’s smiling now, lips curved upwards, corners of his eyes crinkling. You don’t think you’ve ever seen such a soft and serene expression on him. All his hatred and anger gone as he envisions this humanless utopia.
As quick as the expression comes, it goes. Nai’s face darkens. Lips curved down in a deep, contemplative frown. You dare to ask, “How will you manage it?”
A sneer. Vicious and violent. It warps his otherwise angelic face. That’s the issue, then. The how. It occurs to you that Nai may have kept his plans from you not to keep them a secret, but because they’re too hard for him to breathe life into. A plan unspoken is one yet to have been made real.
Nai thinks you’re selfish. He thinks every human is selfish. You are tempted by everything. By food and drink and sex. Driven by id, seeking pleasure, drowning out pain. He calls you all Eve and plots a paradise free of your particular breed of sin. He can’t understand that you and your kind are just doing what’s needed to survive on a plant you were never meant to inhabit.
He wouldn’t want your pity, but in a way, he’s earned it.
You force yourself to look up at him as you say, “Whatever you end up doing, I hope it brings you peace.”
#nai x reader#nai x you#millions knives x reader#millions knives x you#trigun x reader#trigun x you#nai x y/n#millions knives x y/n#trigun x y/n#trigun imagines#i have nai brainrot and this is the result#i need a tag for my fics hmmm#i thought i had one but now i cant find it lol#oh well
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MMA!Nai
I love that I’m not the only one thinking of AU Nai as an underground fighter, because yes, that body was built for it and so is that face, bloodied, though not from his own.
Anyway.
ao3. prologue. do you see yourself?
He justified it early on as a small act of alternative rebellion, keeping it from Vash as long as possible—in fact, before all of this began, he had already gone rogue, silent, going from office to apartment and back, ignoring the messages in his phone, and canceling meetings to work on his own.
Livio leaves the office at 11 pm one Saturday, Nai sectioned off at his desk with small plates of takeout, having missed his brother’s calls three times in a row to get dinner downtown. Half-opened voicemails ring hollow in his head.
Nai, I’m going to bust down your door— and Nai, I’ve missed you—
Perhaps, at any other time, he would have tugged at the threads of their connection a little harder. Perhaps even coiled himself around it, glimmering silver, cords serrated like knives resting against his skin. Cords serrated like knives against his pulse point.
Nai barely registers Livio talking to him.
“I’m heading out, boss.” Nai looks at the duffle in his hand. It’s not unusual to go to the gym even at this time in the city, so he doesn’t need to comment on it. Yet the words leave him anyway.
“Working out late?”
Livio is silent for a moment. His employee has always been a little unreadable, more so than Nai, but he was anything but evasive.
“You could say that,” Livio says, leveling him with a gaze that Nai hasn’t seen from him before.
“I’ve actually…” he starts, the fine line of his mouth twitching upwards, “been thinking about you.”
Oh. Nai blinks back in surprise, the air suddenly light in his chest. “Livio, we ca—”
“Not like that, Nai.” Oh god, he’s fucking with me, Nai thinks to himself, hearing his own pathetic groan leave his body. “Right,” he chokes out, busying his hands with his fork and the remaining Mongolian beef.
Livio strides towards him and drops the duffle. He goes down on one knee to unzip his bag and pulls out a pair of shorts. “Here,” he says, tossing them at Nai, “this is the closest thing that could fit you.”
“Go change.” Suddenly, Livio’s sending out directives like he’s the boss. Nai raises his brow, but Livio only ignores him, digging further into his bag and pulling out a roll of bandages.
“You’re gonna want these, too, boss.” His tone lowers, and the look in his eyes is back again. Nai finally recognizes it for what it is—glimmering silver, at knifepoint with his own blade staring back at him.
#nai x reader#nai x you#million knives x reader#million knives x you#trigun au#trigun stampede#trigun fanfiction#trigun fics#livio the double fang#livio#I promise this is Nai x Reader but honestly????? we’re a little gay in this house so#this is backstory but let me know iffffffffff y’all wanna see Livio x Nai LMAO#Livio x Nai#Livio x Million Knives#there I tagged it
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✧ ˚ · . “bruised petal” - trigun fic - royal au (nai x reader)
✧ ˚ · . embers - (vash x reader)
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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!
#trigun#trigun stampede#trigun 1998#millions knives#millions knives x reader#knives x reader#nai x reader#knives x you#nai x you#million knives smut#knives smut#knives angst#millions knives angst#nicholas d wolfwood#nicholas d wolfwood x reader#wolfwood x reader#wolfwood smut#trigun x reader#trigun fanfic
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Millions Knives x GN Reader
Synopsis: barista knives basically LMAO
Warnings: none
A/N: silly little coffee man who makes ur drink perfectly every time
─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"That'll be $$8.35! Are you paying cash or card?"
Curse these local aesthetic coffee shops, robbing society of its money. You pulled out your wallet, grimacing as you talked back and forth with the cashier. A receipt prints out, and the cashier hands it to you, their mood noticeably happier when they saw that you'd tipped. The irony was dumbfounding, but you did it nonetheless.
You glanced over to the end of the bar, scanning faces until you finally settled on one. There you are. Working as diligently as always, his gaze never meeting yours, but that's how he was. Most workers plastered on a fake smile, ass kissing in an attempt to raise their customer ratings. He was different, though, and maybe that's why he appealed to you so much. Stoic with a slightly condescending gaze, it just made him even more attractive. Your eyes rolled over his name tag as if you didn't have it engraved in your head a million times over. "It wouldn't kill you to say hi, considering I'm here every other day."
Nai glared at you, quirking an eyebrow. "Then you should know that I already have your order done, so pick it up and leave me be."
A heavy sigh left your lips as you walked to the other end of the counter and picked up your drink. You took a sip and rolled your eyes. Perfect, as always. "You talk a lot of sass for someone who has my drink memorized and ready every time I walk through the door. Just admit it, you like seeing me."
He didn't respond and started to make the following order. A small smile settled on your lips before you turned away to study in the corner like you always did. You would purposely pick a table facing the bar so you could give Nai glances over the top of your laptop. Sometimes he would meet your eyes, and you'd quickly look down back at your screen, praying he didn't mention it later on. He never did.
Before you got too far, you heard him speak again. "It would be in your best interest to look at your cup in closer detail." You looked at him, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he nonchalantly steamed some milk in a pitcher. What was he talking about? Hesitantly, you slightly pulled down the paper sleeve to see a message scribbled on the cup in neat handwriting.
XXX-XXX-XXXX. Call me later. I'll pick you up for our date tonight.
Your eyes bugged out as you stared at the words, completely flabbergasted. You looked up at him, not even fully registering what he wrote for you to read. He gave you an insufferable smirk and walked off, leaving you standing in the cafe, gaping at him like an idiot. "WHAT?"
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
Back and forth, back and forth. You groaned loudly as you shoved your face into your hands, walking around your living room. It wasn't as if you were nervous, of course not! This wasn't a date; there's no way it could be. Nai, the infuriating smartass, the intolerable piece of shit, the stupid blond hair man with the most sex appeal you'd ever seen...
God, what am I thinking??? You slapped your cheeks, shaking your head as if trying to unlodge the thirsty thoughts from your brain. There was no way he could be serious about this. There's no way! You fiddled with your clothes, trying to smooth out any wrinkles that may have been plaguing you since being snatched from the back of your closet. It'd been a while since you'd gone on a date, so they hadn't been put to use in ages. The last time you went on one, your date ditched you as soon as the tab came. You still weren't over that.
You started pacing again, chewing on your thumb, before picking up your phone on the coffee table to stare at the screen. The conversation between you and Nai had been short, and he didn't even say where he was taking you. You were tempted to ask but knew it was futile. He was a man who liked to keep people at an arm's distance. At least, that's what you gathered from your interactions (from you staring at him from across the cafe whenever you went). The fact that he'd even asked you on this date, to begin with, was baffling, considering he always acted like you were some kind of nuisance. He would let out a loud sigh every time you walked through the cafe doors and roll his eyes when you uttered a single word to him. So what gives?
You jumped as you heard a sudden knock on your door. A quick glance at your phone told you it was 7 o'clock sharp. Leave it to him to be a punctual prick. Your heart was hammering as you stepped closer to the door, and it infuriated you. Why did he affect you this much? What about him left you pining like some sort of immature middle schooler? Was it his eyes? The way they roamed up and down your body whenever you talked? His lips, maybe? How they would curl up into a slight smirk every time he retorted with some witty comeback? Stop it!
A deep breath in, and you finally opened the door. And there he was, dressed in his loose black turtle neck and tailored pants, adjusting his watch as he skimmed your outfit with mild interest. How he looked at you made your hands sweat, feeling small as he came closer. Nai reached toward you, and you literally felt your heart stop. Then, your entire body was on fire as he swiped his thumb across the corner of your lips. You stared at him wide-eyed, and he returned the gaze with a quirked eyebrow.
"You had a crumb," Fuck. He looked like he was about to laugh, but he stopped himself, extending the crook of his elbow towards you. "Shall we?"
You shakily put your arm through his, nodding as you gave him a meek smile. "Where to?"
#millions knives#millions knives x you#nai x reader#nai x you#trigun stampede#millions knives x reader#trigun
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Vash + Nai (pairing with reader) muttering apologies into your hair.
I think a common way knives and Vash show love to their partners is something as simple as murmuring into your hair.
They love your hair, it’s warm and soft and cushions his head every time they hold you close. Like this.
Sometimes Vash especially will murmur apologies of being busy, of being burnt out and he’s not able to be there for you much because he’s just.. ugh. It’s then that you ‘wake up’ and berate him,”it’s not your fault,” you’ll reassure him, holding him closer if even possible and showing your gratitude that he’s here. That each day can be taken one at a time.
When Nai does this, he doesn’t verbally apologize much. If at all. Perhaps a very small. Very quiet.
“..my apologies.” Into your hair, arms encompassing you as he attempts to show his gratitude. Knives loves strongly in quiet glances, small droves of gifts and thoughtful gestures that if you looked? He’d put so much meticulous thought into. Or perhaps it’s something simple. Like a snack you like.
But when you do have physical touch, he’ll breathe you in. Savor it. He’s well aware of the fact he can’t be like this with you all the time. He’s glad he has someone who’s the same way. He wouldn’t settle for anything less- understanding is what builds this relationship and helps it remain stable. Something you both need.
#Vash and nai#Chris writes#Vash x You#Vash x reader#nai x You#nai x reader#millions knives#knives millions#vash the stampede#Trigun#vash Trigun#Trigun vash
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dilf!anakin would definitely be the type to steal you away from the kids for a while just to fuck you.
he'd come up with some random excuse like "we gotta go have a private talk" while grabbing your hand and dragging you to the bedroom. as soon as he shuts the door, he would be so quick to strip you from your clothes, pawing at your ass and tits, until you're totally naked above him.
"shhh baby can't let the kids hear us." his hot breath fanning your neck as you bounce on his thick cock. it would be absolutely impossible for you to keep quiet.
"needed you so bad angel, i just couldn't wait." he grunts, his hips thrusting harshly up to meet yours.
your kids would eventually start knocking on the door needing you for whatever reason, but anakin doesn't care, he still needs you. his hand slips right down to your clit, making you quickly clamp your mouth shut to prevent any noise coming from escaping. your orgasm creeping closer and closer.
"just a minute, mommy's coming!"
"isn't that right mommy?"
#nai writes ୨୧#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x reader#anakin x you#anakin skywalker smut#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen x you
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