#vash the stampede x reader fluff
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Pierced—Vash the Stampede
Summary: How did Vash get that hoop in??
Word Count: ~1.2k
Pairing: gn!reader x Vash the Stampede
Content: fluff, a lil angsty, Vash deserves his sense of self ok
a/n: @aboveweirdest gave me this wonderful idea while we were analyzing this man to death! tyty was thinking about this when i got another helix piercing done recently so i whipped this up before bed
In recent days, you’ve seen Vash eyeing you. At least, more than what is normal. It was unsettling everytime you felt his gaze on you whenever you tried passing the time by creating something out of scraps you found into jewelry, specifically earrings.
For instance, he was doing it now, as your hands worked the small pliers expertly to transform a piece of gold wire into a hoop. You either usually pierce your own ears with your creations, or sell them in town for some extra cash you both could use for bullets or food. Vash wishes he could be as good as you on the artsy side, but you always remind him that he is good with his hands. No one can beat him in marksmanship.
“Like what you see there, gunman?” you tease, side eyeing him for a split second. Caught in the act, Vash blushes a lovely red that reaches the tip of his ears. You love getting a rise out of him.
“Do you wanna learn? Is that it? Because you’ve been a little too curious these past couple of days.”
“Mm.. ‘s not that. I just… How many piercings do you have?”
The question comes out of nowhere for you. You think it’s obvious, since mostly all of them are on your ears. Doing mental math, you count what you have on your ears.
“Uh, around 11? I’m thinking of doing more, but we’ve been too busy lately.”
He simply nods, humming to himself as he visibly thinks through your answer.
“Why do you pierce your ears?” You quirk your eyebrow at him. “Don’t mean that in an offensive way!” He quickly puts his hands up, offering a sign of peace. You laugh at his gestures. “I just been noticing lately that your usual customers are people with loads of piercings, and I never gave it much thought before to get one of my own, but I think…they look so cool on others. They seem so happy with them too, expressing themselves without even saying a word.”
Your hands still at his words, something dropping in your stomach and twisting at his solemn expression. Vash never revealed much about his past, and you never probed him further. Anytime anything connected to his past came up, you could clearly tell whatever happened had left its scars on him, physically and mentally. You respected his decision to close up those details, and reminded him that whenever, if ever, he was ready to share that load with you, you would be there.
You look back down at the gold hoop in your hands, an idea coming to mind. You quickly add the finishing touches, putting a little more effort into it as it was for someone special now.
“Hey, what do you think of this?” You hold up the hoop to Vash’s eyes, catching the glimmer in his eyes at your recent creation, like that of a thief spotting expensive items through a window. Greed and envy swirling together.
“It’s beautiful! You always amaze me with how you turn a piece of trash into such a pretty object. That one’s gonna sell fast Mayfly!” You warm at his praise and nickname for you. His confidence and support for your skills potentially outweighed yours for how he handled his gun.
Yet, you can’t stand the fake smile he plasters on his face, masking the jealousy he feels for the future owner of the golden hoop.
“Think I’m gonna sell it for free. It’s for someone close to me.” Vash simply cocks his head to the side. You roll your eyes at his obliviousness. “How about letting me pierce your ear for you?”
The change in his demeanor is quick. He straightens his back, eyes shining brightly, nodding eagerly at you. “I’m in your hands!”
Grabbing a small threading needle from your kit, you order him to sit close to you on motel bed. Cleaning your hands and the needle, you search his face, looking for any signs of regret.
“You sure about this? Do you know where you want it?”
He’s pensive for a moment, eyes looking past you. He hums, pointing at his left lobe. How perfect, you think, same side as his cute little mole.
You fidget, rethinking piercing his ear. You’ve only ever pierced yourself, so now that you have someone else in front of you, you feel like a total amateur.
“Hey. Get out of your head there. I know what you’re thinking.” Vash’s voice breaks through your brain fog. He wraps his hand around your raised arm, poised and ready to pierce him. He gently tightens his hold on your waist. “I trust you.” You feel your heart twinge at the soft vulnerability in his eyes.
“Ok, this will be a slight pinch. I know you’re used to pain-” you interject, noting his slightly raised eyebrow, silently telling you been there done that. “-but just follow my rules. Ok, breathe in for me.” You raise the needle to his ear. “And breathe out.” As you feel his breath ghost your arm, you push the needle as quickly as you can through his ear, quickly adding the hoop to his ear.
You turn around to wash your hands. “And there you go! Your first piercing ever! Crazy, considering that you’re like 150- hey don’t touch-” you catch him as he’s going to finger his new piercing, staring straight at the mirror on the vanity opposite the bed. The warning dies in your throat at the sight of him nearly in tears.
“I…I love it,” he says in a warbled voice.
“Oh Vash, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? I really tried to be careful. Always with you.” You sit beside him, leaning onto his shoulder, rubbing his back in comfort. He sniffs.
“It’s not you. It’s just…this is the first time I feel like I’ve done something for myself. I feel like my own person. With just a hoop.” Wet tears trail down his cheeks. You press your fingers to his cheeks, wiping his tears. You know how he’s been burdened with his past, no doubt still feeling the shadow of his brother and the destruction that’s come from his actions. Perhaps this earring meant more than you could ever imagine, perhaps it finally binded him to the present, and to his own future that he can create.
“You’ve always been Vash to me. Never your brother. Just you. Vash the Stampede. The most amazing gunman to ever walk into my life.” He turns to you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his face into your neck.
“Thank you. Now, I feel like everyone else. Maybe they can see me as one of them. Not this humanoid disaster.” You nuzzle into him, hands returning to their rubbing against his back.
“You look nice by the way. It suits you really well. The gold complements your blue blue eyes,” you tease, hoping to get a chuckle out of him.
He pecks your cheek, another thank you from him. He presses his face tighter to you, jolting suddenly. “Ow!”
“Yeahh, it’s gonna be a bit tender for a bit.”
masterlist
divider by saradika
#vash x reader#vash the stampede x reader#vash x reader fluff#vash the stampede x reader fluff#trigun#trigun stampede#trigun x reader#trigun x reader fluff#tristamp#vash#vash the stampede#bendycxmet writes
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Vash, in his self-deprecating episodes : I’m no good for you, all I ever do is ruin things, you should just get rid of me, I’m nothing but a stupid, ugly, monster who has hurt others—
Y/N, had enough of his rant & grabs him by his throat to their face :
Y/N : I’m not a violent person by nature, but if you don’t shut the f⚡️⚡️k up I will strangle you to death with my undying love.
Vash, stunned into silence as they’re usually sweet & soft : . . .
Y/N, releases him then clapping their hands : Now, what do you want for dinner? I’m thinking sushi. ☺️
#Trigun x reader#vash the stampede#Trigun#Trigun Vash#Vash The Stampede x reader#Trigun Vash x reader#Vash the stampede x male reader#Vash the stampede x fem reader#Vash the stampede x gn reader#Vash the stampede x you#Trigun Vash x you#Trigun Vash x male reader#Trigun Vash x fem reader#Trigun Vash x gn reader#Original : greeneyedgoldenchild#original : tumblr#Vash the stampede x reader fluff#Trigun x reader angst/comfort
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Vash, Nicholas, Millions Knives + Accidental Confession
Pairing: Vash the Stampede, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Millions Knives x Reader
Tags: fluff, love confession, first kiss, cuddles, blushing, teasing, slightly suggestive
A/N: You didn't think I was done with these three did you?
VASH
Says it while you're half asleep on his chest, which is a position you don't remember being in when you went to sleep
He moved you, hating the thought of you sleeping on the cold sand
Will try to convince you that you're dreaming
If you were then you wouldn't be in the middle of nowhere or wearing this much clothes, and Vash wouldn't be stuttering over his words so much
Therefore no, you're not dreaming but if he think you are then he should give you a kiss and see what happens
NICHOLAS
Not surprised that you like him, you've been asking him to spend the night with you a lot more than just intimacy
You think he can't understand you if you're moaning while you say it but he understood just fine
Nicholas won't stop what he's doing, but you go right ahead, keep confessing, see if it gets you to the finish line faster
Thank god he was already on top of you so can hide your face in his shoulder while you confess
He didn't mean to make fun of you, he just thought it'd be a cute way to confess to him
KNIVES
Didn't think you'd fall for him, and sure as hell never saw himself falling for a human
He always figured he'd be too feared to fall in love with, too dangerous for you to touch him so gently, let alone kiss him
Because he'd never been kissed before he had a serious face up until your lips touched
It was a deeper kiss then you expected for the first one, it made you so dizzy that you couldn't keep the confession off your lips
Since he didn't know if he should say it back, show his soft side to you, Knives tried to keep it just to lust, but he didn't ever say that you couldn't tell him you love him as much as you wanted
#vash x reader#vash x you#vash fluff#vash the stampede x reader#vash the stampede x you#vash the stampede fluff#nicholas d. wolfwood x reader#nicholas x reader#nicholas fluff#millions knives x reader#millions knives fluff#trigun stampede x reader#trigun stampede x you#trigun stampede fluff#wolfwood x reader#trigun x reader#trigun x you#trigun fluff#trigun#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun stampede#nicholas d. wolfwood#millions knives#x reader
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Tee imagine being vash’s first kiss :(
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。FIRST — VASH THE STAMPEDE.
「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ vash has never fallen in love—not before you, that is (2.1k words)
☽ contents ⋮ mutual pining, slightly jealous vash (of nicholas), confessions, fluff
☽ notes ⋮ i don’t even think this has anything to do with the ask anymore LMAO i got carried away but here <3
“nico, get your grimy fingers off my share,” you huff, shoving nicholas’s fingers away from the last few bites of your lunch.
food is scarce these days—more so than usual, and you don’t even try to hide your hunger when you finally find a place to grab a bite. vash eyes you as your lips are curled into a soft frown, the crinkle of your brows making his throat dry—because you’re cute, even with a look of pure irritation on your face, you’re soft and angelic and you make his heart skip a beat.
“c’mon, give me a bite or two,” nicholas chuckles, sneaking his way back to reach for your share of food, “you try carrying that big ol’ cross around all day.”
this time, you slap his hand away, huffing as you shift closer to vash to put extra distance between you and nicholas. vash has to keep himself from leaning in when he feels the warmth of your body radiate against him at the proximity.
“oh, you’re such a jackass, y’know?” you grumble, rolling your eyes at the easy chuckle nicholas gives you. but vash can see it—the beginnings of a smile you try (and fail) to fight back as you shake your head. “you’re the one who insists on carrying such a flashy weapon.”
“well it saved your pretty little head a few times didn’t it?” he shoots back. nicholas is easy to talk to like that, banter filling the air between you as you dance around each other with petty taunts and sly grins and stolen touches through pokes to the forehead.
vash thinks the only time he’s ever touched you is to pull you away from danger. in fact, he thinks it’d be easier to fight off an entire city after him than pluck the courage to reach out and flick your forehead the way nicholas does. it’s so smooth, so simple, so natural—and he can from tell the way your eyes soften for nicholas that it must be love.
he glances down at his food, feels his appetite dwindle and his chest tighten, and soon enough there’s an extra share of food pressed to your hand as he stands up.
“i’m not hungry,” he smiles softly, “you have it.”
you blink for a moment before opening your mouth to protest. “but vash—”
he’s off before you can finish talking, climbing into the van and closing the door while everyone stares after his figure and blinks. you frown, looking back at nicholas who only grins wider, holding a hand out for the half eaten dinner in your hold.
“well, don’t be greedy. share the goods,” he insists.
you roll your eyes, pulling away from his outstretched hand as you glare at him.
“something’s wrong,” you announce. meryl and roberto share a look, glancing quickly between you and nicholas again before continuing eating, making your brows furrow. “you guys know, don’t you?”
“everyone does, sweet cheeks,” nicholas chuckles, shaking his head, “you’re a bit more oblivious than i thought.”
“and what’s that supposed to mean?” you glare, but he only eyes you with amusement, turning back to finish the last few bites of his dinner before standing up and walking off, mumbling about needing a smoke under his breath.
you stare back at the van, unsure whether or not you’re supposed to go after vash—whether or not he even wants you there. it takes you a few moments of contemplation before you ultimately stand up, earning a look from meryl and a sigh from roberto.
“i’m gonna go after him,” you announce.
it doesn’t take long to walk up to the van and climb in, finding vash sitting slouched on his side of the back seat, looking out the window. he almost looks…defeated—it’s a type of vash you don’t think you’ve ever really seen.
“vash?” you ask softly, making him tense for a moment before he glances at you, offering a poor attempt of a reassuring smile.
you don’t think vash has ever successfully hidden an emotion ever in his life. for as long as you’ve known him—though it’s not been that long—he’s worn his heart on his sleeve and his emotions bared before you whether he means to or not. you sit down beside him, staring at your lap as he stares out the window again.
“hey,” he says quietly, “why aren’t you with everyone else?”
“why aren’t you?” you counter gently.
“ah, well,” he chuckles nervously, painfully aware of how close your knees are from brushing, “just wanted to sit. and think, i guess,” he says quietly.
“about what?”
“just stuff,” he mumbles.
he doesn’t want to tell you he thinks about how he must be in love with you, doesn’t want to admit as much when you’ve clearly got someone else in your heart. vash has never fallen in love—but he thinks if he’d have to give the feeling a label, it’d be you.
he thinks it has to be love when the first pair of eyes he searches for are yours, making sure you’re okay before he even thinks about checking on anyone else. what else could it be besides love when even if for a split second, the very thought of you being in danger makes his gun leave its holster and ready to aim. if not love, he’s not sure what else it could be when he’s so nervous around you, he feels words stick to his throat like he’s choking.
vash has never fallen in love before, but there’s no mistaking this feeling now that it hits him.
you’re kind—maybe a bit more than you should be to him since he does nothing but drag you into danger. the rational part of him wishes you’d stop coming with him wherever he goes, it hopes you’ll see you have so much to live for outside of cleaning up his messes. the more desperate part of him feels nauseous at the idea of you going your separate ways—he can protect you, can’t he? the desert is a dangerous place with or without him and if you’re in danger one way or another, you should stick by his side where he can keep an eye on you.
no, vash has never been in love—but he’s sure as hell seen it happen before his own two eyes in the many, many years he’s lived.
and he knows you’re in love with nicholas with one painful glance.
“c’mon vash,” you nudge his shoulder with your own, “we’re friends, i know you better than that. something’s wrong. are you upset about what those people in that last town said to you? because i’ll march right up to them and give them hell and back if—”
friends.
he’s tuned you out, too hyper focused on that awful burning sensation pooling in his chest, the one that hits him as soon as you use that cruel word. of course vash is just your friend, why wouldn’t he be? he can’t remember the last time someone actually wanted him around at all let alone as something more.
he doesn’t even notice your hand reaching for his until it lays over his fist, gently unclamping it from the fabric of his coat. he doesn’t even notice he’s been fisting it this whole time, doesn’t even notice his shoulders are tense until you lean your head on it.
“you don’t have to tell me,” you murmur gently, “i’ll wait here with you.”
“why?” he can’t help but ask, can’t help but wonder why you care to spend your time here when you could be there. with nicholas. without him.
“because i care about you.” you say it like it’s obvious, like he should already know that.
perhaps he does—you do care about him, he can see it with the way you help clean his wounds and scold him for being reckless…just maybe not in the way he wishes you would.
“are you ever going to tell nicholas how you feel?” he asks.
you sit up, shock on your face and a crease in your brows as you stare at him in bewilderment. he almost thinks he’s asked something out of line, something he should apologize for. but before he can offer you a stuttered apology, you beat him to it.
“what?” you chuckle. “do i look like i feel something for nicholas?”
“you don’t?” he sounds shocked, making you blink.
“no,” you shake your head, grimacing like the idea is an unpleasant one. “he’s a nuisance i tolerate at best.”
“oh,” is all he says, surprised. it’s silent for a moment before he hesitantly asks, “is…is there someone?”
he doesn’t want to know the answer either way. yes means the pain of knowing there’s someone else he has to let you go to. no means it’s not him even with no one else to compete with at all. but he figures whether your answer is yes or no, it’s enough to force him to let go.
“well…” you hesitate for a moment, inhaling before letting out a shaky breath and slumping back to his shoulder, “can i be honest?”
“of course,” he says instantly.
“i don’t know how you’ll take it,” you admit quietly, and he can hear the slight shakiness in your voice—like you’re nervous, like what you’re about to say will change everything.
but vash knows no matter what you’ll say, no matter what you’ll ever do, he’ll still keep loving you even if you don’t need him to.
“is it embarrassing?”
“no,” you shake your head, “well, maybe a little. depends on how you react. i might look stupid.”
“can’t be worse than running out of bullets,” he smiles softly, “i bet i looked pretty stupid then.”
“a little,” you admit, giggling. and then you both laugh softly, your cheek against his shoulder and your hand gently clasped over his. distantly, you can hear nicholas ask where you are—and you know it’s not long before you’ll lose this rare moment alone. so you take a deep breath, stare at your hand over his as you mumble, “i think i love you. a little. actually, that’s a lie—a lot. like, a whole lot.”
he blinks.
he feels his breath hitch and your shoulders tense and his heart race all at once. for a second he thinks he might’ve heard you wrong—but then you whisper how you understand if he doesn’t feel the same way, how it’s okay, really! you understand, it’s not his fault and you can still be friends because you’re fine with friends. just as long as he’s still in your life because he’s important to you and friends is better than nothing at all.
and then he cuts you off with a soft chuckle, making you pause and glance up at him with doubt on your face.
“can i be honest too?” he smiles gently, melting your heart even as it shatters just a little in your chest.
“of course,” you whisper.
“i love you too. not a little though. a lot. i thought you had a thing for nicholas, though—”
“nico is rude and smells like smoke. i wouldn’t kiss him if my life depended on it,” you interrupt with a crinkle of your nose, making him chuckle with bright eyes and love scribbled over the curves of his features.
he leans in, presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes when your hand cups a cheek gently.
“good,” he murmurs, “but don’t worry, i’ll keep you safe. your life will never depend on kissing him.”
“good,” you hum, “because i only want to kiss you.”
and then you do, slow and sweet and so in love. it’s his first kiss—he doesn’t really know what to do, but he follows your lead and learns fast, soft lips molding with yours and mingling your warm breath with his. vash doesn’t even care he’s gone this long without feeling something as gentle as being in love. he’s in love now, with you—and he’s glad you love him too and not nicholas wolfwood, the man who keeps trying to steal dinner from under your nose.
“are you two done in there already?” nicholas is pounding on the door, making you pull away with a sour look on your face. “we got places to be. better not be baby making where i’m about to sleep.”
“can’t you make one exception and kill him?” you whine, making vash chuckle before he leans to kiss you again, more chaste this time. and again, and again.
vash has never fallen in love—and he’s sure it’s because he was meant to wait this long to fall in love with you.
© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#vash x reader#vash x you#vash fluff#vash the stampede x reader#vash the stampede x you#vash the stampede fluff#trigun stampede x reader#trigun stampede x you#trigun stampede fluff
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↳ 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘!! — vash the stampede
oh goodness vash’s number one love language is touch and i will die for it
- vash is such a naturally physical person. if that makes any sense!
- small touches come naturally to him, with anyone for that matter. an arm over your shoulder, hands brushing while walking together, or his knee is pressing against yours under the table.
- its a lot of unspoken meaning behind both his intentional and unintentional touches!
- as friends, vash who always ends up sitting way too close than he should, like hes got his whole upper arm pressed against yours and his warm thigh is right up on you. but hes all smiles and glittering eyes, like completely unaware of how hes affecting you.
- as a BOYFRIEND though.. he knows exactly what hes doing
- vash likes taking your hand in his under the table, he sometimes rests your hand on his thigh and places his hand on top of yours, keeping your touch on him like an anchor. like if somehow you werent touching him he’d pass out
- hes always holding your hand, intertwining fingers or locking your arms together. and hes so so smiley about it all the time
- on dates, sitting across from each other, he bounces one of his legs while the other is stretched out and hooked around your ankle. its such a small gesture but even just being a mere foot away from him, he cant help but keep contact with you
- casual touches where he finds himself mindlessly playing with the folds of your shirt or pants, pinching and rolling the fabric in between his fingers while he converses. also vash who when he notices a tiny TINY piece of lint on your shirt hes like “wait stop stop moving” and you freeze like ??? but after he pulls it off, hes like “okay anyway :D”
- aaaa at home, hes on you all the time! im pretty sure ive talked about this before, but hes hanging off of your arm and following you around wherever you go. he has never been alone at home other than in the bathroom. but even as water is dripping down his hair and hes practically still soaked, hes pouncing on you like a wet dog.
- and of course at the end of the day he cant fall asleep without you pressed flush against him. he has to be warm and snuggly or he cant sleep okay? its normal nightly procedure
#h4venpha#trigun stampede#trigun#vash the stampede#trigun vash#trimax#trigun maximum#trigun 1998#trigun 2023#trigun anime#vash fluff#vash headcanons#vash x y/n#vash x you#vash plushie#vash x reader#trigun fluff#vash imagine#vash scenario
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hi! vash the stampede for the “put me down, i can walk” prompt? 🥹🙏
𝖕𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓, 𝖎 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖜𝖆𝖑𝖐! (vash the stampede)
pairing: vash the stampede x gn!reader
content: fluff, reader being carried, a little bit of bridal carry, vash being a bbg
a/n: i loved writing this! this prompt is so perfect for vash!! he’s so 💕💕💕 bbg frfr! i love that silly man sm 😭😭 might have to make him my pfp tbh 🙏🙏 also this is the first prompt i am posting for my followers event! <3
☁️ 1k follower event
The heat was unbearable. You should be used to it at this point but you doubted it was anything anyone ever could get used to.
You’ve been walking for what seemed like hours, dragging your feet through the sand as the sun was burning down on your head, slowly cooking your brain from the inside.
Vash, your companion, seemed unbothered by the heat for the most part, it only seemed to get to your head and body as your muscles started to feel heavy and your strength keeping you up and going slowly left you with every step.
This was exhausting. You were getting tired.
You felt awfully slow, the heat muddling with your thoughts and perception of time.
So it took you longer than you’d liked to admit to process what was happening. How your feet were suddenly dangling in the air, your view was upside down and your body was swaying steadily with every step Vash took…Vash!
You started to wriggle in the man’s grip. Because for some reason, one you’d hoped he’d explain soon, Vash had just taken it upon himself to throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Vash!” You cried out, some of your energy flooding back into your body in favour of letting you feel embarrassed.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you!” Vash promised sincerely as if he thought you were worried about him dropping you.
Which was not the issue!
You said his name again, lowering your voice into what was meant to sound like indignation but ended up sounding more like whining.
You started kicking your legs.
Vash swayed in his step, his cybernetic arm that was holding you by your waist on top of his shoulder tightening its grip.
“Please calm down, my dear, we’ll fall.”
“No, Vash! Let me down.”
“Oh?” The man slowed his step, voice dropping “Is my shoulder uncomfortable?”
The genuine concern in his voice made you want to hit your head against his back. That was not the issue!
“No…Yes…I don’t-“ You groaned, pushing your face into your hands “Put me down, I can walk!”
“You said you were tired,” Vash echoed back, sounding confused.
Oh…you hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
“I’ll carry you until you’ll feel better.” You could almost hear the soft smile in those words and could actually feel the gentle pat he gave your calf with his other arm.
Your leg kicked out on reflex and you heard Vash’s pitiful whine as your foot collided with his thigh.
“Don’t kick me,” he complained with a sniffle and you felt instantly bad, you might even have apologised if Vash would let you down already.
“Just put me down already.”
Vash came to a stop.
“I don’t want you to over-exhaust yourself,” he explained gently.
Your heart warmed at his words and you let out a sigh. It was annoying how stupidly charming and sincere Vash was. It made it hard to deny him anything. Thankfully your feelings of embarrassment won over your affection for the blond…at least for now.
“That’s…nice and all but…did you have to throw me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes?”
“Oh!” Vash called out, sounding embarrassed himself now.
He quickly manoeuvred you around before you could realise what he was doing. You slid down his shoulders and into his open arms as he adjusted you until he was holding you in a bridal carry…
“That’s better then?”
You blinked up at the man’s face. He smiled down at you, eyes closed and head cocked to the side. The sun behind his head made it look like he was wearing a halo.
The heat in your cheeks couldn’t be blamed on the sun this time.
“Vash, just let me down please,” you whispered, afraid your voice would break.
He obliged this time, setting you down on both of your feet before taking a step back to give you some space.
When you turned to look at him, Vash stood with his head bowed down and his back curved, eyes lowered to the ground. He looked like a kicked puppy. Oh no.
“I’m sorry!” He apologised, bowing deeper and you could hear the sadness in his voice.
You rolled your eyes, a soft smile tugging at your lips. How were you so lucky to meet such a sweet guy as him? It was almost unfair.
You closed the distance between the two of you.
“Head,” you ordered gently.
Without questioning you, he lowered his head more to make it easier for you to reach up and pat his head, fingers softly ruffling through his strands.
“I’m not mad. Next time ask first.”
Vash lifted his head a little and glanced up at you through his glasses. When he saw your soft gaze his expression immediately brightened again.
“Everything you want!” He promised, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your cheek with a loud ‘mwuah’.
You bit your lip to hide the goofy grin that action brought to your face.
#tristamp#trigun stampede#vash x reader#vash x you#vash the stampede x you#vash the stampede x reader#trigun stampede x reader#trigun stampede x you#vash fluff#trigun stampede fluff#☁️ — maze’s 1k follower event
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₊ ☾⋆ tripede boys cuddle hcs ⋆⁺₊⋆
vash. wolfwood. knives.
synopsis: some cute lil cuddle hcs for the tripede boys!!
tags: trigun stampede, headcanons, cuddling, cute, fluff, short hc drabbles, knives is just a teeny tiny bit angsty
w/c: 1149
a/n: yep yep been wanting to post some tripede for a whilee
headcanon
˙⋆⁺₊⋆.
vash
☾. vash will cuddle you in every method virtually possible, most of the time adapting to whatever position you're already in. are you sitting up on a flat surface? he's on his stomach, laying between your legs and wrapping his arms around your waist as his head rests in your lap. laying down? most of the time, he wiggles against you to be the little spoon, but will be the big spoon every once in a while. in a chair? is there room beside you? if so, he'll lean against your side and drape an arm over your shoulder. no room? he picks you up, sits down, and places you in his lap. vash will always find a way to be attached to you.
☾. just out of politeness, he'll sheepishly laugh and ask if he's invading your space. he prays to whatever is out there for you to reply that he's not, and when you affirm that he's not, he gets a burst of energy and squeezes you tightly in elation. if you say that he is, in fact, too much in your space, he immediately separates and apologizes. although he tries to hide it, his disappointment is apparent as he childishly sulks for a minute before his mood improves again.
☾. while you're cuddling, he loves nothing more than to hear you talk about anything and everything. he encourages you to talk about your day, dreams for your future, and anything else that comes to mind. he moves his thumb in circles over your skin as he stares lovingly, a light smile gracing his lips. you pause every so often at his dreamy expression to make sure he's still listening, and he always is.
☾. you run your fingers through his fluffy, blond hair as he tightens his hold around your waist. you note how the fingers of his prosthetic arm feel cold through your shirt, and inversely, his real fingers feel warm against your other side. his eyes are closed, and his chest heaves with each breath; you wonder if he fell asleep. the plant patterns on his face vaguely glow in the light at his comfort, and you can't help but softly touch them with your finger tips. vash's eyes slowly half open, and you retract your hand quickly.
he smiles. "hey... do you think they're weird?"
you blink, considering the question. "huh? your markings? i don't know, i think they're pretty."
his smile widens and he exhales, touched by your answer. "not as pretty as you, though," he replies.
wolfwood
☾. despite all his complaining about how his arm is falling asleep, wolfwood's favorite cuddle position is laying in bed on his back with you curled against his chest, nestled in the crook of his arm.
☾. he secretly loves your before-bed zoomies, when you have the sudden burst of energy to pester him. a thin grin spreads across his lips as he provokes you into initiating a wrestling match, which he entertains for several moments, before showing you just how strong nicholas the punisher was.
"that's not fair," you would whine as he rubs his rough, scruffy facial hair against your cheek.
"yeah, well. life isn't fair, sweetheart," he replies.
☾. wolfwood wasn't often the type for late night conversations. he finds himself dozing off as you talk about whatever you're talking about; it's not for a lack of appreciation, but moreso a deep comfort from laying with you that hypnotizes him, lulls him into sleep. as a guttural snore cuts through your words, you jostle wolfwood awake, offended.
"you fell asleep while i was talking," you scold. wolfwood will endlessly insist that he did not, in fact, fall asleep.
☾. one night, after you had told wolfwood that you were staying the night at a friend's, you decided to come home anyway. you slipped into the bedroom, feeling your way to your side of the bed, only to promptly fall against metal. you groaned as the collision echoed throughout the room.
"nicholas!! you were cuddling with your cross?!" wolfwood groggily raises his head up as you sandwich yourself between the headboard and cross, pushing against the latter with all your might. it didn't even budge.
"it's hard to sleep without you," he mutters, grabbing the cross and effortlessly swinging it over the edge of the bed to gently place on the floor. your frustration melted away the second he turned back over and pulled you against him.
knives
☾. more often than not, you'll have to be the one to initiate cuddling with knives as he lays up in bed reading, or at the very least, ask him to cuddle you. he loves you dearly, but he forgets that physical affection is a thing that exists. when prompted to cuddle, he'll reflect for a moment to analyze whether he's been giving you enough affection lately or not.
"i'm sorry. i need to initiate these things more," he says, wrapping his arm along your side and holding your chin. you smile and and run your thumb over his frown.
"don't worry so much," you reply.
☾. he loves to envelop you entirely; he places his hand firmly against the back of your head as you nestle in the crook of his neck, and his other arm presses your body tightly against his. his leg rests over yours, and your hands are against his chest. sometimes, he plants a kiss against your hair. you feel safe as his larger form curls around you, and he feels at peace in your presence.
☾. knives admittedly isn't the best at relationships or knowing exactly what will make you feel happy. he often asks for feedback, what he could do better, or if there's anything new he could try. although, he hates that he has to ask these things in order to understand— knives isn't used to concepts that don't come naturally to him, and he wants to be the best he can for you right away. no matter how much you reassure him, you can tell he feels inadequate as a significant other anyway.
☾. he scowls, although not in anger, but more like intense focus. his lips part to say something, but close for several moments, and open again.
"thank you..." he begins, considering his words very carefully. "thank you for being so patient with me. i know i'm— i'm... different. and still learning. thank you for letting me be with you." his face softens as his sentence finishes, and he looks at you.
you smile and hold his face in your hands; the fact that knives feels safe enough to express such vulnerability warms you to your core.
"nai. i don't want anything in the world other than to be with you. you make me so happy, and you treat me so well, okay? i hope you'll always remember that."
he bows his head, leaning into your hold, eventually melting against you in an embrace.
˙⋆⁺₊⋆.
☾. like/reblog if you enjoyed the story !
masterlist: x
#trigun stampede#vash the stampede#nicholas the punisher#wolfwood#millions knives#vash#tripede#trigun stampede headcanons#trigun stampede fanfic#vash fluff#trigun stampede hcs#trigun stampede x reader#vash x reader#wolfwood x reader#knives x reader#i can fix knives i can fix him i can fix him i can fix
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SUMMARY: in which you kiss (beta design) Vash <3
TW: a bit suggestive? You kiss. That’s it.
TAGS: @millionsvash @h4venpha @vashfantasy @macncherries @captaintweet
Your traveling companion was.. a rather quirky man, to say the least.
He brandished a bright red coat, clunky, round glasses, and most importantly, a mask. All of which overshadowed the rest of his lanky form, an attempt to distract from his appearance under the mask. That of which, was never revealed to you. Your curiosity perpetually poked at you from time to time- what was he hiding?
Everyone had their own share of secrets, of things they’d rather keep to themselves, and the last thing you wanted to do was to pry.
Even when you both had gotten closer to one another, quite literally, as you were pressed in an alleyway awaiting for the coast to clear-
His mask never came off.
His torso pressed against yours, chest rising and falling rapidly. You could feel it from underneath your hands- he’d had to stabilize your stop earlier when you rushed into your hiding spot.
You didn’t have the guts to move. Not that you really wanted to. God, you longed for him, and the lack of room between you two was something you had to savor right now. His gaze darted away from you, your breath tickling his jaw. Apart of you truly hoped people would continue their chase in pursuit of you two- if only to remain this close to him.
“Uhm-“ you paused, lips brushing his jaw accidentally.
A shiver ransacked his entire being as his arms, which were propping himself up on the wall behind you, shook slightly.
“Ah, sorry-“
“Please.. quiet..” he pleaded, his mask shifting as his lips moved. You swore you could feel him biting his lip, fidgeting to the best of his ability.
You squirmed. A nervous habit.
“…mayfly…”
You tried to pull back, observing him. In the time you’ve known him, he’s relatively hard to read. Mask and all, obscuring the majority of his facial features (save for his eyes, hidden behind round orange lenses). The pinch of his brows gave way to his uneasiness.
“Did I make you uncomfortable?” You murmured, voice rumbling slightly.
He shook his head, eyes heady. His dark lashes fluttered oh so beautifully, mole peeking a bit past his mask. His reply was breathy. “You.. you can’t keep teasing me like this.”
You blink owlishly. Once. Twice. So you weren’t assuming things.
"Do you want me to stop..?" You drew your question out, heart thrumming in your chest. Zeroing in, awaiting his reply.
He gave a brief shake of his head, eyes wide. As if it would kill him, he clung to any crumb of affection you had to offer. You hoped it wasn't circumstantial, knowing full well that if he had asked the same of you that you would absolutely never refuse.
In a flashing moment of bravery, you pecked his cheek. The fabric of his mask felt smooth on your lips, a small kissing sound resonating in the tight space between you two. Then his lips moved from underneath the mask, upturning the corner of his eyes cheekily.
"Hah.. you uh.. you missed."
"Huh?"
You felt fabric against your lips once again, although you really wish you didn't. Curiosity pried at you, as feverish as the kiss. What was once a chaste meeting of lips separated by that godforsaken mask turned into him cupping your face, your back pressed to the wall amidst the barren alleyway. You felt his chest heaving against yours, the repetitive motion comforting, in a sense.
He felt.. so warm. So comforting. His palms to your cheeks, enveloping your face in its immeasurable value. Pure want coursed throughout you, appreciation seeping into the kiss. Perhaps one day, he'd be able to bare himself to you, to meet the plush of his lips, flesh to flesh as you breathed one another in. Perhaps one day, you'd be able to pepper kisses on his bare face the way you'd imagined every few times where you allowed your mind to wander. He was a beauty in your eyes, his lashes fluttering in a demure fashion whenever he pulled away, only to kiss you once more.
But for now? You were content with the press of your bodies, flush to one another as you felt the fabric of his mask dampen, the movement of what you knew to be his lips meeting yours.
#trigun#chris writes#trigun stampede#fanfic#drabble#kissing#vash the stampede#vash x you#vash x reader#vash the stampede x reader#vash fluff#vash Trigun#Trigun vash#tristamp#fluff#x reader#gender neutral reader#mask#face mask#suggestive#tristamp vash#vash tristamp#trigun stampede vash
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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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Stay.
Summary: Waking up the morning after next to your favorite travel companion.
Rating: T
Pairing: Vash the Stampede x gn!reader
Content: some angst, mostly fluff, crying, brief mentions of sex but nothing in detail.
WC: 400ish
A/N: Got a spark of inspiration last night and decided to actually try writing something. This is my first time sharing any kind of fic so please be nice to me ehehe
The sunlight peaks in through the worn blinds, the beams landing right onto your face and rousing you from sleep.
Your hand comes up, trying to rub the drowsiness from your eyes as they flutter open, your gaze falling onto the dusty bed just across from you. Your bed. The bed you would have been sleeping on had the events of last night gone any differently.
"Morning, Mayfly," a quiet, husky voice breathes from behind you, the flesh arm around your waist tightening its grip ever so slightly. You wonder how long he's been awake for.
You feel his warmth press against your back as he nuzzles his nose and lips against the back of your neck, soft wisps of blonde hair peeking from over your shoulder.
He's still here.
He hasn't left.
You feel tears threatening to pour from your eyes, and you're not quite sure why. Maybe it's relief. Relief that last night's passionate roll in the sheets hasn't ruined what the two of you have spent the passed several months building. Relief that he didn't try to leave you in the dead night after getting so close to you ("for your own safety", he'd say.)
Maybe it's because for the first time in his life, he's allowed himself to want something, to have something. He's let himself indulge and have something nice for once in his otherwise desolate and lonesome life, and he's chosen that something to be you, as selfish as he might think that is. That thought alone makes your eyes well-up.
You slowly turn around to your other side, facing him, your head level with his patchwork chest. Your head tilts up, and when your gazes meet, he sees the tears starting to pool in your eyes, his calm expression quickly turns to one of concern and panic.
"H-Hey... What's wrong?" he whispers softly, his hand coming to cup your cheek. You can feel the hesitancy behind his touch, and knowing him, he's blaming himself for your tears, thinking he's done something to upset you. You can practically see the wheels turning in his head. You're not... regretting what happened last night... are you?
And you're not going to give him the chance to ask something so foolish, because of course you're not.
Far from it.
You take a deep, shaky breath and bury your face against his chest, your arms wrapping around his midsection. It's all you can do as you feel the lump forming in your throat. And oh, he's so warm.
You feel his arms gently wrap around your frame, one warm, one cold.
Just stay.
Stay with me.
You wish you had the words the express everything you're feeling right now. The relief, the gratitude, the comfort, but for now, you'll settle for something more simple.
"I love you."
You can feel his heart beat ever so slightly faster, his arms pulling you tighter against himself.
"I love you too, Mayfly."
You're not sure how much time passes between the two of you, but he's the first one to break the silence, and you can practically hear the grin splitting his face.
"You know, there's a little donut stall a couple blocks down, if you're feeling hungry."
#trigun x reader#trigun x you#vash the stampede x reader#vash the stampede x you#vash x reader#vash x you#vash fluff
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Hey! I love your writing! So I'm excited you're opening requests :)
How about for Vash, something along the lines of either reader or Vash is trying to work on something, but the other keeps distracting them with kisses?
A/N: OMG WAIT HI I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS TOO (SERIOUSLY)!!! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this - thank you so much for your request! It's super cute :') I decided to opt for cuddly Vash for this one so he's distracting the reader hehe
"(Y/NNNNN)!"
Vash's soft whine of your name made you giggle softly, but you continued your work steadily, not giving in to his attempts to distract you.
"I know, my love," you cooed back to him softly, "Just let me finish what I'm doing and then I can give you my full attention."
"B-But, what if I want your full attention now?"
The pout on Vash's lips and the way he pulled his puppy-dog eyes on you made you groan playfully, your heart fluttering slightly at how cute Vash was when he wanted you to pay attention to him. Despite being a wanted man with a bounty of 60 million double-dollars on his head, the "Humanoid Typhoon" had nothing but love and affection to give you.
You sighed dramatically, putting down the bag you had so carefully been packing and rearranging, before turning to face him as he lay on your shared bed for the night.
"Patience, Stampede. Or else, you'll get nothing at all," you scolded him, trying hard not to let yourself smile as you did so.
Vash simply let out another soft whine, his pout deepening as he sighed dramatically and covered his face with a pillow, letting out an exaggerated yet muffled cry of "My Mayfly doesn't love me!"
You scoffed quietly before letting out a small chuckle, "I love you very much, Vash. Just let me finish getting my stuff organized and then I will happily cuddle you until the suns rise tomorrow morning, okay?"
With that, you turned back around and continued to organize your bag, working in silence as you tried to focus. After a few minutes of peace, you faintly registered the sound of Vash shifting on the bed and then his footsteps coming up behind you. Without a word, you felt Vash wrap his arms around you from behind before feeling him resting his chin on top of your head.
You let out a small sigh, "You really couldn't wait?"
"How could I possibly wait to cuddle the love of my life when they're right in front of me?" Vash replied, and you could practically hear his smile.
"Alright, fine," you chuckled softly, glancing up at Vash, "I'll allow this. But don't push your luck, Stampede. I'll be done soon."
You could've sworn you heard Vash let out what sounded like a contented chirping noise, but you brushed it off as just being a plant thing. You felt him nestle himself against you, his head resting on top of yours as he hugged you tightly from behind.
However, even this didn't last long, because before long, you felt Vash gently beginning to press soft little kisses to the top of your head. He started with just one before nuzzling his nose into your hair, inhaling your familiar and comfort scent, but he couldn't stop himself at just one kiss. Shortly afterwards, you felt another gentle kiss being pressed to another part of your head, then another to your temple, and another to the nape of your neck that sent shivers down your spine. Each kiss was slow, with Vash taking his time and caressing your skin, showing just how much tenderness and love he felt towards you each time his lips pressed against you.
"Vaaaaaash!"
Now it was your turn to whine - the heat had risen to your face and you could feel your heart beating frantically in your chest at Vash's tender kisses. Despite having been with Vash for as long as you had been, he still somehow managed to fluster you with ease. But now, it had gotten to the point that you were so flustered that you couldn't focus on the task in front of you.
"What?" Vash cooed back, his tone light and teasing, his breath ghosting over your ear and sending shivers down your spine once again. "Something wrong, Mayfly?"
"Not fair!" You whined again, turning so you could look at him properly, pouting at him just as he had done so to you.
Vash couldn't help but let out a laugh at the sight of you pouting at him - how could somebody so adorable possibly be his? And yet, here you were, pouting at him in all your glory and making his heart swell from sheer love of you.
"I'm sorry, Mayfly," Vash whispered softly, smiling down at you almost wistfully, "I know I'm distracting you. I just... miss you whenever I'm not holding you. My arms miss you, my body misses you, my heart misses you."
"And now you're gonna make me cry," you replied, your voice shaking slightly as you took in his words. You had never felt more loved than you had when Vash was with you, and his words touched you in a way you hadn't expected them to.
"No... no tears, my love. They don't belong in your eyes."
You could feel Vash's fingers, both real and prosthetic, gently brushing over your cheeks before he cupped your face in his hands, tilting your face upwards to look at him. You would have melted into a puddle had it been physically possible from the warmth and love evident in his gaze. Suddenly, the fact that he had distracted you seemed to fall away, and you let go of your bag, instead opting to place your hands over his on your face, intertwining your fingers with his.
"I love you, Vash."
The words escaped you in a whisper, meant only for Vash to hear them. The moment they did, he leaned down and pressed a final, gentle kiss to your lips, holding you as close to him as possible.
As soon as he pulled away from you, Vash grinned playfully, "I love you, too, Mayfly. So, does this mean that you forgive me for distracting you?"
You pondered his words for a moment before answering with a smirk, pulling him back down, "If you give me another kiss, I might consider it."
#anya's athenaeum#trigun stampede#trigun stampede x reader#trigun x reader#trigun#vash the stampede#vash x reader#vash the stampede x reader#trigun fluff#trigun vash
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Hi! How are you? I hope you are doing well <3 I binge-read all of you trigun fics and i loved them, so i wanted to request something too!
How about a Vash x reader where the reader sleeps on him? Vash is listening to them ramble about something and then boom, they fall asleep on him bc hes warm. <3
MY FIRST ASK! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MADE ME FOR THE ENTIRE DAY!
i am doing well! thank you for your support! <33
i usually take forever to write a piece, but ur ask inspired me and had me thinking all day on how to go about this. so hope you enjoy this! thank you for the request!
Sweet Dreams
Exiting the bathroom, freshly washed and donning one of Vash’s shirts, you throw your towel over your head, continuing to dry off your head while you peered out into the room. Vash lounged on the motel bed, arms thrown behind him to support his head, lean legs sprawled out and taking up the entire mattress. He was whistling a tune you didn’t recognize, one eye closed while the other surveilled you in the opening of the steaming door.
“Ya sure you didn’t wanna take a shower? There’s still some hot water left,” you offered.
“Nah, got too comfy waiting here for you. I’ll take one in the morning.”
He closed his other eye, humming the tune now. He did look comfy. A little too comfy. With his eyes closed, he didn’t see the mischievous glimmer in your eye. The pattering of your feet was his only warning as you dove for him, body landing atop his, an ‘oof!’ sounding from him as your body weight collapsed on his chest. You were cackling at the noise he made, wrapping your arms around his waist as his fingers tickled your sides.
“Not fair! You attacked a defenseless man!”
“Getting comfortable without me, handsome? Ay! Stop it!-”
His fingers didn’t stop their wriggling assault, only ending when you began to retaliate.
“Ok, ok! I’m done!” He coughed a laugh out. “Mm, you smell nice. I haven’t smelled this soap before. Where’d you get it?” He twirled a wet piece of hair between his fingers.
“Oh I didn’t tell you! I met this vendor at the market earlier! While you were off looking for your donuts, the smell of the loveliest lavender drew me in.”
Vash hummed along to your story, indicating that his attention was still 100% on you as he played with your hair. He breathed in the calming scent on your skin and hair, allowing it to sway him to sleep slowly. You rambled on and on about how the vendor made the soap, the techniques and oils she used to bring out the herb.
“But I got her card so we can go back and get you a soap! I do love how you smell Vash, it’s almost like you have a sort of gene that prevents you from smelling bad.” You turned your nose further into his shirt, inhaling the raw smell of him–sunshine with notes of something earthy…petrichor, or something along those lines. It grounded you every time. “But geez, would it kill you to wash your laundry sometimes?! You stink!” you lied, teasing a finger into his chest.
He yelped, abruptly awoken by your harsh jabbing. He grabbed your finger, bringing it up to kiss it, splaying your hand open with his own, observing the size difference.
“We can do a laundry day tomorrow. I saw the laundromat wasn’t too far off from us, so we can easily carry our loads there.” He sighed, a content smile plastered on his face at the domesticity you two indulged in. He entwined your fingers, bringing it to the side of his face. “That reminds me! I got us donuts for the morning! You should’ve seen the options, I mean. I was in heaven, Mayfly. Powdered, glazed, cake-”
He let your hand go as he gestured in the air, passionate about the change in subject.
It was Vash’s turn to ramble. And once he started on his favorite topic–donuts–there was no stopping him. The deep timbre of his voice held some power. His voice always became deeper late into the night, hinting that he was getting tired; but it seemed to lower your heart rate, lower your defenses and diminish the adrenaline you had from a busy day. The warmth of the day seemed to never leave him, his body heat encompassing the parts of you that touched him. You tucked your legs closer to his body as the coldness of the desert night reached for your feet.
One of his arms was wrapped around you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. The other was busy with your arm on the opposite side, fingers lightly grazing up and down. The security you felt in his presence never failed to put you to sleep.
You hummed one last time, eyes softly closing at his praise for a certain jelly doughnut. You promised in your head that you were only shutting them for a minute. What lies you told yourself.
“But I got your favorite! It might have a bite in it, but I saved the majority of it for you! I know you’ll like it, because I know you, hehe…um. Mayfly?”
Your soft snores alerted him that you stopped paying attention to his tales of the day. He peered down his nose at you, love clearly painted into his features. Your eyelashes were long from this angle, gently laid out on your sun-kissed skin. Your lips were parted, soft breaths felt on his chest as you breathed in his scent on each inhale and exhaled the minty paste from your nighttime routine. He’s told you plenty of times before, but if only you knew how beautiful you looked in his eyes.
He felt goosebumps rise on your skin from the chill in the air. He reached down to grab the comforter, pulling it up to your shoulders. You shifted slightly, stilling in the creases of his warm neck that was now heating your cold nose. He giggled at the temperature difference, arms also wrapping around your waist as he settled further into the sheets.
He had to admit, his exaggerated noise and fuss at your sudden dive from earlier was only a ruse. He loved the nights you chose to sleep tucked into his side, but he delighted in the nights you chose to smother him, arms always wrapped around him. He had days to live for with you, but there were always nights to live for as well.
“Sweetest of dreams, Mayfly.”
A/N: side note! i am open to requests! i think they're super fun and it really does get me motivated to write more :)
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#vash x reader#vash the stampede x reader#vash x reader fluff#vash fluff#vash the stampede x reader fluff#trigun x reader#trigun stampede x reader#trigun#trigun stampede#vash#vash the stampede#tristamp#trigun x reader fluff#trigun fluff#bendycxmet writes
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〔 𝐀 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘, 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘 〕𓂃 ⟡
subtop!vash x reader
cw: AFTERCARE ONLY, still NSFW
a/n: i gotta be honest i pulled this out of my ass
“i-i can’t! nono no more plea-please! please please please—“ vash gasps out, shaky hands gripping the pillow under his head. watery, translucent cum dripping down the twitching, red tip of his dick, overstimulated and sensitive. he couldn’t even remember how many times you’ve made him cum, it was too many to count.
“shh shh baby, we’re all done now, okay?” you soothe him. you reach to the night stand and grab the towel you placed there many hours ago.
“d-done? we— we’re done n-now?” vash peels his eyes open, tears glistening on his eyelashes. you watch as he tries to lift his head, just barely getting a few centimeters before he gives up. you move down and spread his legs, careful and slow, yet he winces and whines. taking the towel between your fingers, you wipe up the slick mess.
“mhm, we’re done now.” you repeat, hands soothing over his inner thighs as you carefully clean him up. somewhere in his fuzzy mind, vash registers your words and his tight hold on the pillow releases, fingers twitching and sore.
“mmgghf…” vash groans in relief as you finally let him come down. chest rising and falling slower, the throb in his core coming to a stop. you smile to yourself and clean around his softening dick, gentle brushes of the towel on his sensitive skin. and yet he lets out soft mewls in protest, hips trying to wiggle away from your motions.
“i know i know, it’s okay…” you coo softly, pushing his thighs closed and moving up to his chest, wiping the sweat there. eyes focused on his face as your hands work: his eyebrows slightly furrowed and pink lips parted as he breathes. leaning closer, you wipe the drool off his chin and tears off his delicate eyes.
“that was a lot wasn’t it?” you smile softly and lay against his side, heated skin meeting heated skin. you reach up, over his chest and brush the blond hair out of his face. still a little fuzzy, vash nods as he nuzzles into your touch. straining his body, he turns over and faces you, asking for more.
“mh… ‘m a good boy?” he mumbles, eyes blearily opening, a soft pout taking place on his lips. and the way he looks at you with such hope and dependency makes your heart flutter.
you cup his face and pull him in, pressing your forehead against his. “you’re a very, very good boy,” you say, and vash keens with happiness. soft little whines emitting from his throat as he presses closer to you, your touch his lifeline.
when he finally settles in, you begin to caress his face, soft strokes with your thumb across his cheek. vash responds with reaching up to gently grasp your wrists, content with keeping you there.
“you did such a good job for me.” you praise vash again, watching as his bright eyes flutter open. sparkling softly as he looks at you with such love and trust like you had just fulfilled something in him. vash leans in, brushing his nose against yours, breathing slowly.
“mm kiss…?” vash whispers, his lips turning up in a small smile. his limp hands trying to pull you closer, you easily comply. a smile of your own appearing before you close the space and connect your lips to his. pressing gently into him like he’d shatter, you kiss him slowly. lips moving in sync as vash hums softly in satisfaction.
he pulls away for half of a second before he presses himself into your chest, arms wrapping warmly. around your body. vash sighs contently, finding comfort in your bare skin against his after hours of not being able to touch you. sure you were demanding and rough, but it was exactly how he wanted you to handle him. and of course he knew you would take care of him after, gentle touches and sweet kisses your good boy.
#h5llpyre#tristamp smut#vash smut#vash the stampede#trigun#trigun smut#trigun maximum#trigun stampede#trigun stampede smut#vash x reader#vash x you#vash fluff#vash x y/n
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Teasing and Flustering Vash
Pairing: Vash the Stampede x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, teasing, kissing, flirting, slightly suggestive, flustered Vash
A/N: Because he is so cute he needs to be teased, that is the rule.
Vash is so easy to fluster that no one even bats an eye anymore at the way he reacts when he gets really loud when you whisper something in his ear
You're always hugging his arm to give him that physical intimacy that he's been deprived off for a while
Can blush very easily if you pull his turtleneck down and plant a hard kiss there and then pull the turtleneck back over it, a little secret for the two of you
He's shy when it comes to initiating romantic contact as opposed to being very comfortable with platonic contact so just holding your hand is a big deal to him
Sure you can initiate a lot but you want to make him get out of his shell a little
You don't shy away from him, you make sure he knows that you're not mad, you're just waiting for him to make a move, you hover close to him and you brush the back of your hand against his
Little things like pressing your forehead against the back of his neck when you're cuddling to sleep give him goosebumps
When you take your clothes of and it shows skin his face will rival his jacket and he'll whirl around so quickly he almost falls over his feet
Chuckles nervously when you compliment him, almost like he doesn't feel like you're being serious about it until you hammer it home by kissing him, which flusters him further and makes him yelp and fall back from his chair, but with a smile settling on his face from the kiss
If you sit in his lap its very easy for him to get... overly excited about it and try to hide his face, or just flat out try to leave, discretely, to the back allay to take care of his problem
#vash x reader#vash x you#vash fluff#vash the stampede x reader#vash the stampede x you#vash the stampede fluff#trigun stampede x reader#trigun stampede x you#trigun stampede fluff#trigun x reader#trigun x you#trigun fluff#trigun#vash the stampede#trigun stampede
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The Hickey on Your Neck
↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader
One-shot
Summary: Only seconds before closing your eyes do you realize that the dreams you had forgotten among the lust and thrust of your lover were the life you were destined to lead.
Or a story about how You and Vash fucked from dawn to dusk on his birthday.
Word count: +17.5 k.
Genre: explicit smut, romance, angst (Trigun au).
Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, established relationship, soft/dom Vash the Stampede, too much fluff and kissing, scar worship, plant patterns display, manhandling, cunnilingus + fellatio, creampie, fingering (with prosthetic arm), unprotected sex (c’mon! We want his seeds), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, two smut scenes (one romantic, other hardcore), aftercare, emotional trauma, violence, blood and gore, post-Trigun Stampede but no manga spoilers.
Notes: I'd never written a Trigun fic before, but with this Vash brain rot, I'm sure it won't be the last. I originally intended to name this fic "Sleepless Nightmare" after TOMBI song, but somehow changed my mind. You'll see why. "Elay" in my mother tongue means the Moon of a Tribe. A nick name Vash will use for reader.
By the way, you can also read the Disclaimers and Writer's Note at the end.
Song Recommendation: The Hickey on Your Neck Playlist
You can read my fics on AO3 and Wattpad. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK. This is my DISCORD account, in case you want to contact me.
Back to master list.
07:30 pm – July 21st
A hole had been left in your heart. Throwing yourself backward, you tripped over your feet. Your head slammed into the floor as your arms did little to break your fall. It was a pain you'd never known, a pain you never thought you could feel, never would have even imagined. From the inside out, you were lit on fire by a bullet that went off in your chest.
All of a sudden, everything slowed down.
So this, you thought, was what dying felt like.
You blinked, and it seemed to take forever. The images before you were unfocused, with colors, bodies, and lights swaying in unison and stilted movements blurring. Your ears couldn't hear clearly. All the sounds were garbled, warped, and too high or low.
Who … she?
I asked for a tall, blond man with … eyes, and the folks pointed at her.
How come … shot her …?
She said … had never met such a man.
… idiot! What if she's with the gunman?
Whatever. … doesn't draw a gun anymore; rumor has it.
What a moron! The man may not kill, but … wiped out … whole city!
What … … we should … then?
If … … his girl, … … screwed up!
… the bounty! … get lost before the news …!
It was like all the words were banging into each other, colliding again, spinning around you. Your name seemed to be being called, but you couldn't hear it. Everything was muffled, slippery, and off-balance, like it was there, just out of reach, but you couldn't find it.
Heavy footsteps stomped, stomped, and stomped the ground, and a familiar face appeared before you. The shape, the golden and green colors drew your attention, and you tried raising your hand to feel his warmth once more and assure him that everything was okay, but it was too hard, and suddenly you couldn't breathe. Your throat felt like it was being slashed, holes punching into your lungs, and the more you blinked, the less clearly you could see. The tightest breaths, tiny little gasps, were soon all you could manage. Pain, pain, and more pain followed the dizziness and lightheaded feeling. It was terrible, never seeming to end.
Your sight suddenly went dim. Blindness overtook you.
Blood dripped from you rather than being seen as you blinked, blinked, and blinked in a desperate attempt to regain your vision, but all you saw was a cloud of white. A short frantic gasp and the pounding of your eardrums were all heard. Some warm sensation spread throughout your body as the fresh blood pooled under you.
You knew your life was about to evaporate, and it only made you think about how short you lived with him and how he would blame himself for your loss. Leaving your tears to fall, you whispered, "I-I'm sorry, Vash."
05:45 am - July 21st
A sharp intake of breath caused your eyes to fly open. Your skin froze in a cold sweat as your brain waded in waves of distress. Inhaling as much as possible was the only thing you could do. Your chest heaved, and your heart raced. You looked around, feeling the stillness within the madness, blinking hard against the white ceiling.
Your hands reached your throat and chest. No blood. No holes. You could feel your pulse. That must be the sound of your heart, at least, you hoped.
There was a strange feeling in your gut, like your instincts were stumbling through mud, and your bones were filled with stones. Your eyes shifted to the other side of the bed, and you sighed in relief. The reality sleeping next to you brought a moment of clarity. You sat up on your elbows, head spinning as you glanced at the nightstand.
The glass was empty.
You slowly pushed the sheets aside and felt more awake with your bare feet touching the cold floor. Picking up the glass, you tiptoed toward the murky kitchen.
You reached for the pitcher on the table, but the water never made it to your lips; instead, your trembling hands grabbed the faded and scratched edges of the cabinet as if letting go of this old piece of plywood would plunge you into the blackhole of your nightmare.
A muffled whimper escaped from the bottom of your throat, and you whispered, it was just a dream. Yet, your white knuckles became wet as tears streamed down your face, blurring the cracked tiles before you.
You shouldn't have cried. You should have been stronger. Not just for yourself, but...
Incoherent thoughts still occurred to you as you pressed your palm to your lips—a fruitless attempt to stop any further crying from coming out.
It was just a dream. Everything was fine.
Your glistening eyes were fixed on the glass of water as you took a sip and pushed the venom-like lump down your throat. Nobody was going to lose anyone. This fear was deeply buried under the sands of your heart. Why did it have to appear today of all days?
A chill ran down your esophagus. Your hand shook involuntarily, and a few drops of water slid from the corner of your mouth to your chin and neck and then ran to your perked nipples.
Looking down at your body, you wiped the drops away before feeling cold. After all, this planet didn't earn its name, "Noman's Land" for nothing. The weather could get pretty chilly and cruel in this desert when those two suns weren't out. Moreover, let's not forget how many people were denied heat due to a lack of resources. Ugh! So, it's not like you didn't know you should've worn something, but God damn it! You woke up feeling a great deal of fear. Fuck! Still, you weren't eager to catch a cold. At least, not today. As you were about to return to bed, you suddenly stopped. Random images filled your mind.
Tears staining emerald green eyes, red flowers blooming on blood, and heart-wrenching screams fading in the night, all in an empty room filled with balloons and mud.
The next gulp of water tasted salty, leaving you feeling numb. Tears must have flowed down your cheeks. You lowered your glass and let your thoughts drift away.
There was a flash of your limp body in your mind, accompanied by a sharp twinge in your gut, a screaming sensation in your body, as if your lungs craved for air.
You wicked away the images, expunging thoughts of pain and death from your mind. The churning in your stomach began to slow, but your skin took on a damp, clammy sensation in its wake. You struggled to recount the things you had eaten last night. It must be it. No doubt, you had eaten poorly.
It was just a dream. What the hell was wrong with you? Crying over a dream? What were you, five? No, not today! Not today! Not today! Get your shits together!
After a moment of hesitation, you rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, ran your palm across your forehead and nose, and stopped it on your mouth before glancing at the bed.
Your pale face bloomed with a faint smile as you saw the sight—a miracle in this barren wilderness.
The curtains of the half-open window fluttered lazily with the morning breeze, letting the suns' rays play upon his scarred shoulder blades now and then, and run their greedy fingers through the golden waves of his hair, an enraged sea of sunflowers bounded by rough rocky beaches on the side. Oh! His undercut was glorious from where you watched.
He was sleeping with his eyelids slowly moving. The corners of his lips were curved upwards. Today seemed to be one of those rare days when he was free of the burdens of his past. Was he dreaming? What was his dream about? Love? Peace? Foods? Probably sweets!
You tried to avoid the woods squeaking beneath your feet as you walked back. Putting the glass of water next to the orange-tinted shades, you slowly climbed back under the warm sheets without shifting the mattress too much.
Once your head touched the pillow, cinnamon, and caramel again filled your nostrils. The man ate so many donuts that you feared he would become one. When you pictured it, your smile reached your eyes, and you giggled silently.
Like on the days you woke up early, you rolled over to face him and let your eyes roam over his abs muscles and those beautiful V lines guiding you to his secret paradise. Other than the massive gash across his chest, he had several cuts on his arms, wounds on his shoulders, and scars all over his back and legs. This man was a walking history, marked with painful memories, and luckily, your lips had perfectly mastered the story behind every blemish, slit, and stitch on his body.
It wasn't that simple, though.
When you first met him, he was a broken man covered in an old cloak, his eyes filled with agony. He was consumed by remorse, but nonetheless, he was still full of life and willing to try and glue back all his broken parts. Indeed, it was a challenge for him, and somehow, it didn't come easy to you either. Your heart ached when you removed each piece of clothing from his body. You cursed those who hurt him. It took you time and love to learn how to cherish those wounds instead of looking at them with pity. And little by little, your eyes learned to see a delicate kind of beauty in them, as if, every once in a while, you could see the sunlight shining through the cracks of his heart, lighting up your world in a most wonderful way.
Perhaps that's why after years of running, running, and running, he stopped for once and decided to rest. Something about you must have felt like home. And how lucky you were to have this?
06:30 am - July 21st
You couldn't look away from him, your mind unable to comprehend the perfection of this happiness. He was so ethereal you could hardly fathom that he was yours, wanted and loved you. You couldn't even hear yourself think over the rush of blood in your ears. The sight of him sleeping beside you, relaxed and vulnerable, was causing wild, desperate thoughts to race through your head. God! The fantasies you'd had about him. The places your mind had gone.
You sighed and brushed your face to the pillow, hoping he would roll over to you in his sleep so you could get back into his arms and the legs draped around you. Your eyelids peered at the glistening prosthetic arm in the soft light of the down. Could he feel your warmth whenever you kissed those fingers? How come you had never asked? There were many things you hadn't asked him yet.
Maybe you should start tomorrow? Hm? It's not like the world was ending today.
"You're going to come back over here, or you want to leave me cold and lonely?" he murmured, the raggedness in his voice confirming that he had been sleeping. Your gaze shifted upwards to meet his eyes, only to realize they were still shut, but his lips were painted with a playful grin.
Something inside you melted. It moved by his words, his smile, and his voice.
"I thought you were asleep." You scooted closer, and he wrapped his arms around you, cautious not to accidentally hurt you when he slipped his left arm beneath your neck. "I didn't want to wake you up." Your forehead pressed against his chest, and you felt the coldness of the iron mesh against your skin. His chin rested on your head, and his toes caressed your legs. The prickles of scars and fine hairs of his limbs tickled yours, and you felt blessed.
Funny how your nightmare faded the moment you felt his warmth like he burned a hole right through your head and pulled all your thoughts out. Well, other than that, it seemed like this morning, everything about him was exactly what you needed. His voice was calm and caring, his arms protective, and his presence comforting. You didn't want him to let go of you.
"Even if you had woken me up," he said, his artificial fingers sinking into your hair, and he continued, "I wouldn't have minded." A light kiss on the crown of your head followed his honest words. Even though this man kissed you every day and night, you could feel a silent giggle seeping into your body, causing your face to blush bright red.
Vash yawned soundlessly as he pulled you closer, his eyes still closed. The two of you were so close, too close, but never close enough for him. You had come to realize that your body heat did more for him than any blanket could. It was always in his eyes, aching with a desperate yearning he could only meet with you and your touch.
A joyful happiness settled between you as his hands drew shapes and patterns alongside your spine like those bright ones sometimes you could see on his body. Your lips curved into a smile as you watched him. His hair thick and blonde. The lines of his body sharp and robust. Damn! He had everything about him beautifully crafted. His nose. His chin. His ears and eyebrows. The eyelashes any girl would kill for and those turquoise-green eyes you longed to see. He had a gorgeous mouth.
You lingered too long there, your eyes betraying your mind.
Vash smiled. "What are you doing?" He fiddled with your hair, wrapping a lock around his finger.
In response, you sighed. Clearly, you would never discover how to avoid getting caught red-handed every time. "Just enjoying the view," you said, still staring at his mouth. You reached and touched two fingers to his bottom lip only to feel a rush of memories.
Long nights. Early morning. His mouth on you. Everywhere. Over and over again.
07:15 am - July 21st
He laughed sheepishly at your response.
You brushed a strand of hair off his forehead. His hair had grown a little long. You stroked his cheeks and drew his head back toward you, pressing your lush mouth against his. It never took him long to part his lips. He kissed you back, holding your head steady with his prosthetic arm while his other embraced you tightly. You could feel him smiling against your lips.
He had your heart, and you loved him quite horribly, too. This fact always smacked you over the head so hard you felt dizzy. You should have been afraid and wanted to hide it, as he was the most wanted man on the planet, but love had made you bold and brave.
You pulled back and studied his kiss-inspiring lips. Your whole body was filled with a warmth you wanted to share with him because it was pure, and so was he. There was no way for you to find the right words to describe how you felt.
The morning light was shining through the windows at the perfect angle and time. His muscles were taut, bathed in gold.
"Can you lie back, Vash?" you asked, pushing his shoulder back toward the bed. Finally fluttering his eyes open, he lifted his head in your direction.
Oh.
God.
His eyes.
He blinked dark lashes, revealing a spectrum of sadness and beauty, unlike anything you'd seen before. The way a person could convey so much with a glance caught you off guard. He had an extraordinary amount of pain paired with even more extraordinary passion.
His face spread into a wide smile the moment he saw you. These smiles, they changed him, and moments like this killed you a little.
He had the kind of face that made you forget where you were, who you were, and what you might say or do. You held his face in your hands as you laid his head down on the pillow. A half-lidded gaze sat on his face as he leaned to your touch, and you kissed him. Slowly, this time. His eyes fell closed. His mouth responded to yours.
Your fingers moved to his neck, then to his hair, and your mouth followed them. Soft lips caressed his earlobes and nipped the tiny single hoop, hot breaths hitting his skin, surprising a giggle out of him.
His hands reached up to pull you closer, but you stopped him. "No," you whispered. "Don't move." Without a second thought, he dropped his hands.
"Lie back and keep your eyes closed," you muttered, and strangely, he didn't object. His obedience led to you kissing him everywhere. His cheeks. His eyelids. His chin. The tip of his nose and the space between his eyebrows. All across his forehead and along his jawline. Every inch of his face. Soft, small kisses that said more than you ever could. You wanted him to know how you felt. You wanted him to feel it in the way only he could, the way he could sense the depth of your emotions. You wanted him to know and never forget.
And you wanted to take your time.
As your mouth moved down his neck, he gasped. You peeked up at his features only to meet a crooked grin on his face. The moment was worth savoring. It seemed like Mr. Vash was enjoying himself, so your tongue continued to adore his arm's sculpted hills and valleys, the perfect shape of his torso.
You breathed in the scent of his skin and took in the taste of him as your hands ran down his abs, kissing your way across and down the line of his torso. You kissed around his navel, and the trails of fine hair underneath caressed your lips. He kept reaching for you, trying to touch you until you told him to stop.
"Please," he said, taking a deep breath. "I want to feel—"
Even though he couldn't see you, you raised your brows with a head tilt and gentled back his arms. "Not yet. Not now."
He let out a breath in protest and crossed his arms behind his neck until your hands went further down and his eyes flew open. Blinking at him, you found out you were still fascinated by his eyes—such a stunning shade of green. "Close your eyes, Vash," you had to tell him.
A big gulp of air filled up his Adam apple. "No." He hardly spoke.
"Close your eyes!"
With his sharp gaze following your every move, he shook his head and leaned on his elbows.
"Fine." You rolled your eyes, and your hand grabbed the base of his hardness.
As soon as your nails brushed the skin of his length, he sat up and stared at you. He was breathing so fast you could hear and see his chest moving.
With a smile, you looked him in the eyes and leaned your head down. Your mouth took in the tip, and your tongue traced circles as Vash gasped. The sight of your bent head made him bite his lip. No doubt every fiber of his being demanded you to take him fully in your mouth, but he wanted you to call the shots. Allowing you to control the pace pushed him to the edge. He enjoyed the thrill of knowing he was at your mercy.
Soft hairs of his thighs against your ears, your nose skimmed his sensitive areas, and your lips kissed all over those favorite parts. The smooth skin of your fingers rolled around was warm and delicate, so fragile you were afraid you might tear it with your teeth. You felt his hardness throb against your cheek, pleading with you not to neglect him. Your thumb rubbed the pre-cum off the pink tip as you raised your head.
You looked up at him, his hair gleaming like golden flames, his cheeks drenched with sweat, and his lower lip stuck between his teeth, and you realized that his eyes looked at you with a look of something like trepidation, as if he was nervous. His face was still flushed red, and he had an expression somewhere between unworthiness and pleasure. With every stroke, his breath grew heavier. Obviously, he wanted more but was trying to contain his desire. Did he feel he was getting something he didn't deserve again?
There was no way you could let him be alone with these thoughts. So, before his dazzled eyes, you licked your thumb and watched how blood drained from his head and rushed straight to his torso. In surrender, he fell back; his eyes squeezed shut. You closed your mouth to half his length, and he turned his face to the pillow, stifling a moan. A tremor ran through his body, and his hands gripped the sheets tightly. Your hands ran down his legs, grabbing them just above his knees and inching them apart so you could trail kisses down the insides of his thighs.
He looked like he was in so much pain. So much pain.
You licked the pain away.
Twirling your fingers around the length, you took the crown in your mouth. Only enough to tease. Too little to satisfy. Your lips gently pressed against it, and when Vash was ready to scream, you accepted his whole length in your mouth.
Your lips were sealed tight as you hummed and increased the speed of your ministration. He threaded his fingers through your hair and molded his hands into your head, not to push you further down but to tilt your face up.
His forehead and neck were dripping sweat. The lines of emotion on his face were so deep you wondered how you must look to him. His throat bobbed, and you felt yourself drown in his eyes, enigmatic yet expressive, like sea foam, tempestuous but very calm. His fingers trailed over your salivate-covered lips, and you noticed that the sadness in his eyes had receded.
The world was suddenly brighter, bigger, and more beautiful.
07:40 am - July 21st
Taking hold of you by the arm pits, Vash pulled you in until your chest touched his. Next, you were rolled over so that your back touched the mattress, and he crawled onto you. Now his arms were propped up on either side of your head so he would not crush you under his weight. Looking into his eyes, you were pinned in place. His urgency ignited your bones. The polished planes of his face glowed with rivulets of sweat. His hardness was poking desperately against your thigh.
"I want to … …, …," he whispered. Intoxicated, you couldn't digest anything except his body hovering over you.
"… ?" His body pressed closer, and you realized you were paying attention to nothing but the dandelions blowing wishes in your lungs.
His eyes were heavy now in a way that worried you, but his gaze was still so tender, focused, and full of emotions you could hardly bring yourself to say anything. As your words faded, they became an unspoken whisper. Your lips glued together.
Screams.
Death.
Screams.
Your heart suddenly raced. What if these moments were destined to expire?
The sound of a clock striking midnight. A pumpkin carriage. The possibility of losing him.
You didn't want your arms to be deprived of his warmth. His touch. His lips, God, his lips, his mouth on your neck, his body wrapped around yours. The nightmare had caused this all, you knew, but the realization was like a pendulum the size of the moon. It wouldn't stop slamming into you.
Blinking fast, you swallowed back the fear building in your throat. God! He was speaking with you, but you couldn't hear him.
You were worried, really worried something was going to happen to him. What if bounty hunters found him? Could his brother hurt him? No. No. No. Even though you were only a human, you would never allow such a thing to happen. You just couldn't. You...
"Hey," he said, his voice soft, so soft. His arms were stronger than all the bones in your body. He pulled your figure close. You heard the beats of his heart humming deeply within his chest, and the steel of his arm encircled your whole body, releasing tension from your limbs. The icicles in your body were melted by his heat. Something about this frame made you want to freeze it forever. "You okay, Firefly? Wanna stop?"
The words he said sent waves of emotion coursing through you. He could read you like an open palm. You weren't lost before you met him, but you were never found until he laid eyes on you. Your tears stung as they fell backward down your throat, burning as they went. "Kiss me, Vash," you said before closing your eyes.
He searched your face, unsure what to do, hesitating, until you felt his lips on your shoulder, tender and scorching, so gentle you could almost believe it was the kiss of breeze and not a man.
Again.
This time, it was on your collarbones and felt like an ache that needed to be soothed. You didn't want to do anything to stop his mouth from touching your body.
He pulled back.
Desire.
Crave.
Need.
Again.
Your eyes refused to open.
His finger grazed the corner of your mouth, tracing its shape, the curves, the seams, and the dips. You felt him so much closer, his body heat filling the air around you, along with his smell and something sweet, until nothing was left. Your senses were so engulfed in his scent you didn't even realize your back was arching toward him as you breathed him in until you found out his fingers were no longer on your lips because his hand had gotten around your body.
"So, where do you want me to kiss you?" Vash whispered, his chest heaving, his words almost gasping. A wave of blistering heat moved through you, sealed shut your mouth. You didn't specify precisely where you wanted him to kiss you, and he didn't seem to have any difficulty selecting the spot.
He whispered your name as he kissed the corner of your eyebrow. "Here?" His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, and your body squirmed slightly. "Or here?" He pressed a kiss against your neck, right beneath your ear, and you tipped your head to let him in, biting down the urge to beg him to take more, to take faster, as he murmured, "tell me."
Clasping your warm fingers with his cold metallic ones, he hovered over you to kiss your throat. You were the oxygen he desperately needed to breathe. His body was almost on top of yours, one hand in your hair while the other held yours delicately yet firmly. His lips crushed yours in no time.
A kiss like this was like swimming in honey rivers, like being dipped in gold, like diving into an ocean of bliss and not realizing you were drowning because you were too caught up in the current to notice. Nothing mattered anymore—neither your nightmare, this room, or the whole fucking planet.
All that mattered was this.
This.
This moment. These lips. This strong body pressed against yours, and these firm hands that always found a way you bring you closer. Oh, My Gosh! You wanted so much more of him. You wanted all of him.
Your eyes opened up.
Not content to be passive, your hands ran down his back, dancing over his broad shoulders, pressing into his dimples, and squeezing his hips.
Your hand grabbed a fistful of his hair when he broke for air with a groan, but you pushed him back, kissing his neck, arm, collarbones, and chest. It was amazing. Being with him, touching him, holding him like this. The rush of adrenaline was so intense and euphoric that you felt invincible.
He muttered your name, his lips mouthing the letters, barely speaking. Your skin was scorched everywhere he hadn't touched you.
He kissed your top lip.
He licked your bottom lip.
He kissed just under your chin, the tip of your nose, the length of your forehead, both temples and cheeks across your jawline. Then your neck, behind your ears, the space between your breasts. He nibbled your nipples and left trails of kisses all the way down your belly button until his entire form moved down your figure, disappearing as he shifted downward, and suddenly his chest was hovering above your hips.
Grasping your calves, he spread your legs apart just enough for his head to fit between. Your thighs were lifted, and you couldn't see him anymore. His only visible features were the top of his head, the curve of his shoulders, and the unsteady rise and fall of his back as he breathed. Eventually, even that sight was lost, with your head falling backward and muffled moans leaving your mouth.
Vash ran his hands down and up around your bare upper thighs and ribs, and he held your hips to make you stand still. Your eyes lit up like small firecrackers every time his hair teased your groins until his lips kissed you there, and fireworks exploded in the back of your head.
As his right hand pressed against your stomach, his tongue played around to make you scream aloud. His mouth brushed against your skin in places you couldn't see but felt deeply. Oh my! You were out of your body, touching stars, when you realized he was working his way up your body, leaving two fingers of that prosthetic arm behind.
"It might feel a bit cold," he said as his nose glided the skin of your stomach, leaving random kisses around your breasts and collarbones just to ease your tension. "Tell me if it hurts, okay?" His hair was a mess, the wetness on his lips all familiar.
A nod came from you in response. He almost seemed to be smiling as his fingers slipped inside your slit, and your nails dug into the fabric. Moaning, you felt his warm hand brushing your hair backward as the other moved up and down inside your walls.
Your mouth was parted in a silent moan, and his small pecks covered you all around. There were tears in your eyes, baby hairs sticking to your sweaty forehead.
As his thumb and two fingers hit all the right spots, your throat wailed in frustration.
You grabbed his free arm, and he pulled himself up, onto you, on top of you. As if reading your thoughts, he kissed you hard. How strange, yet sweet, all you could taste was you, yourself, on his tongue. You moaned at the taste, and he opened his mouth more for you, allowing you to brush your tongue against his teeth.
The stinging coldness of his fingers was long gone. You had forgotten everything. There was something you shouldn't have forgotten, but you couldn't even remember why, what you were forgetting. Amid his length caressing your side and those digits thrusting backward and forward, paying attention to anything else was hard.
You could die from this, you decided. From wanting him, from the pleasure of being with him.
You must be smiling because he was looking at you and smiling too. His forehead was pressed against yours. His skin was flushed with heat. His hand had kept your head still. Your hands gripped his nick, sliding into the hollow behind it. You placed your palms just above his nape, and your fingertips gently began to squeeze and massage his undercut.
"Va-sh."
For a moment, you thought life poured out of you, or maybe your vision fractured as release barreled into you, and you grasped his name over and over again till your body calmed under his weight.
08:10 am- July 21st
Your eyes landed on his glistening wet metallic fingers, and you were dripping, burning, melting with anticipation. He was still on top of you when you thought you heard him speak, his mouth close to your ear.
"I love you," he whispered and kissed your brow. It never occurred to you that he could be like this, so human, so real, but it was there. It was right there. Raw, written across his face. You were about to mutter all the words and worries you held in your chest, but suddenly he stood up and stared blankly at the other side of the room.
You followed his gaze to the pane of glass separating you from the reality outside. You awaited his lips to part. You waited to listen to him speak. His eyes weren't revealing anything about what he was thinking, what was going on.
Something about the realization struck fear into your heart. In the span of a single instant, darkness surrounded your vision. Images appeared in the blur of your sight again.
The petals of red Geraniums floating in the sky, a boy running through blood-stained sands, the time speeding up and slowing down in fits and starts, streaks of green and red staining your dilated eyes, stars exploding, lights flashing, sparking, and then it's all darkness and Vash's screams.
You shook your head.
The images disappeared, but the heartaches and fears lingered, and you had to keep reminding yourself to breathe. Your lungs begged for air, but you looked around for Vash instead.
It seemed he wanted to scream, but you knew the words wouldn't leave his mouth. Those thoughts would expand in his head, explosive and angry, pressing against the ridges of his mind, and then he would hide them behind a smile. As he always did.
"Vash?" you called, just before witnessing how a car's radio sound from the street ripped open his past, pulled out what was left of his heart, and dropped it on the floor.
"… been two years since that fateful July 21st. A crowd has gathered at what used to be the third city of July to pay their respects. Even after two years, the pain of losing their loved ones has yet to heal. The suspect said to have murdered 90 percent of the city, also known as the Humanoid Typhoon, still remains at large. Vash the Stampede is on the run. If I were the demon who turned the whole city into a gaping crater overnight, I'd hide my face too. There is no forgetting the sorrow of loved ones taken from us. The Alliance of Cities has raised the dead or alive bounty on Vash the Stampede to $$60 billion, the highest in the history of…"
The loud words bounced around in the haze of your head, fogging your senses, misting your eyes, and clouding your concentration. In your bones, there was just ice. Your entire being wanted to vomit. Reality slapped you in the face, punched you in the jaw, and dumped you into sand oceans. You grasped the nightstand to keep yourself steady. The orange shades fell on the floor, leaving a big crack on display.
Vash was shaking his head over and over and over and over. He was looking at his hands like he would see some blood on them, as if waiting for the part where someone would tell him this wasn't real and he didn't actually kill those 200,000 innocent people.
Oh, my beloved.
The pain was so plain on his face; it was killing you. Your gaze was drawn to the balled fists at his sides, the furrows in his brow, and the tension in his jaw. Minutes ago, this man was free, but now he was a prisoner of his own crime. In your heart, you wished you could release him from the claws of self-reproach.
Having seen his terror too often, you knew it well.
Sometimes, even when he was asleep, his tormented mind would grip his heart, and such emptiness and sadness would fill him that you felt he was suffocating, as if his sleepless nightmares never had an end.
You didn't know him before,
but
you
thought
he
had
lost
a
bit
of
himself
on
the
day
of
July
incident.
As time passed, you assumed he had finally learned not to dwell on what had happened. You imagined he avoided it like a cripple learning not to put weight on his injured leg.
However, deep down, you knew he was living on eggshells, always wondering when something would break, when everything would crumble. You always dreaded this day. This silence. It was not just an ordinary silence caused by the lack of things that moved or made noise, but a deep and tired silence that sometimes covered him like an invisible cloak—like the one ruling between your shared walls right now.
Stacks of sorrow had grown inside him, settling on his bones and snapping him in half. A cable twisted around his neck, a worm crawling across his stomach. It was the night, midnight, and the twilight of indecision. Too many pains to bear.
How naive of him to think he could slip into the role of a regular being and live a normal life in love and peace.
Vash.
Vash the stampede with a dream.
The mere thought of it filled him with mortification. He began to think others were right when they said things like him were better off destroyed.
Shaking his head, he coughed against the torture in his lungs, heaving strange, horrible gasps until his whole body spasmed into submission, leaving him sitting on the bed's edge like a sack full of nothingness. The old gunman looked as if he might collapse, barely breathing, his life-force being torn asunder.
You felt like your throat was closing up. You knew the infamous humanoid typhoon was everything broken and glued back together, and now knives bore holes into his cracked bones, filled with grief that could take his breath away.
Your face was drained of color, your ears ringing with your heart pounding. His desperate screams from your nightmare echoed in your head as if on repeat. His agony was acute. His terror palpable. Tears sprung to your eyes. It was painful to look at him, being so close and far away from him.
"Local news. You know how dumb they are," you said, trying to hide your petrified and nerve-wracking thoughts from his reach. What if he never experienced peace? What if there was no sanctuary, and the pain was always a whisper away, no matter where he went?
Pressing your nails to your palm, you continued, "None of that incident was your fault. You know that too. You hear me?"
His eyes widened a little. No one had ever cared about him for this long. No one had kept him ever this closely to read his thoughts word by word. No one had ever treated him like a human being. Then again, he thought you didn't know about all of his sins. In a century and a half, he hadn't been able to forgive himself; how could you? It made him wonder how long you could endure him before running for your life.
His head was spinning, thoughts knocking into one another. He clenched his fists and pushed back down the misery that had stuck with him. Even though he didn't want this, you'd probably be better off without him.
"Vash?" You swallowed and dug your fingers into the sheets desperately, a tear trickling down your cheek. It kept hitting you in the face, in the skull, in the spine, this knowledge of just how much you loved him.
His lips looked like they were barely able to form words. He could only take these harsh gasps and wonder why his body hadn't given up.
On all fours, you approached him and sat on your knees on the edge of the bed with a slight distance between you and him. You knew he wouldn't object, but you didn't want to intrude on his privacy. Thus, you remained silent so that he wouldn't be left by himself, and he would know you wouldn't leave him alone.
09:15 am – July 21st
Time passed, and you checked on him occasionally to see if he wanted to talk until he raised his head slightly.
"I'm a demon," he said the sentence so quietly. So, so quietly. He ran a hand across his face, both hands through his hair, looking like he wanted to scream, to break something, like he was truly about to lose his mind. "The world sees me as a threat. An unfixable monster. An abomination. They want me dead." His voice sounded sorrowful, almost like he had already accepted these labels.
Thousand pieces of feeling stabbed you in the heart. "I don't think you're a demon. Also, I don't think you're some sick, twisted monster. I don't think you're a heartless killer, and I don't think you deserve to die. You're not a humanoid typhoon. No, you're not any of the things people have said about you," you told him, words tripping and stumbling out of you.
His mouth fell closed, struggling with some kind of emotion, struggling to find composure. Suddenly he gasped. "No." One broken word. Barely even a sound. He was shaking his head, looking away from you. He turned to face the window. "No. No, no—"
"Vash—"
"No," he said. His voice was so soft and so scared you could scarcely hear it. "No, you don't know what you're saying—"
"You're not a monster!" you said. "And I love you exactly as you are. I don't even want you to fix yourself; I don't think you need to be fixed. People here love you as you are. Your name is the only thing that scares them," you told him.
You knew people had the right to fear him. You knew. Humanoid Typhoon certainly wasn't made of sugar, spice, and everything nice, but rather from hurricanes, lightning, and all things that scared. Seeing dusty storms and raging winds, people thought he was scary. They feared he would harm them. In truth, he was only his own disaster, destroying himself for others. He was Vash. Your Vash. Vash the Stampede, and you loved him with all his fears and frights, dreams and nightmares, sins and scars.
You smiled and continued, "If they learn your name and start hunting you, we'll run away! We'll run, run, and keep running as far as we have to! And when things calm down, we'll settle by their side again. You won't kill. You'll never kill anyone again, and one day, people will begin seeing you as I do."
Maybe tears filled his eyes. Possibly his breath was trapped in his chest. Perhaps his heart warmed a little. No one knew, not even the author. He had his head down, his chest rising and falling.
You sat behind him. A map of pain had covered his entire back. Thick, thin, uneven, and terrible, scars like roads leading nowhere. There were bolts and ragged slices, marks of torture he was not protected from.
Kindness must be difficult when all you'd received was hatred. Being able to see goodness in the world must be so hard when your only experience had been terror. You wanted to say something to him. Something profound, complete, and memorable, but there was nothing suitable. This planet was a broken bone that didn't set right, and Vash wanted to glue it back together. Alone, all by himself.
You two differed in this respect. Fearless and unafraid were two different things. He was fearless. He dared to outshine the sun, stare down a bullet, kiss death and walk away with his back unguarded. He would hold the whole world in his palms despite its bone-crushing weight, despite its sharp edges crusted with blood, if only he could stop it from falling apart. But you? You were fearful. Sometimes you couldn't breathe around the clot of fear lodged in your throat. The only way to lessen its weight on your tongue was to scream until no words came out, while the only way to chase away its shadows was never to close your eyes at night. You were unafraid of one thing, though —he could tear down the world and bury you alive under the weight of his guilt, yet you would follow him without hesitation.
Your eyes rested upon woven strands of sunlight, alighting softly upon his scarred skin. These honeyed arcing rays gave him a light glimmer that revealed his plant patterns, pulsing slowly and dimly. Something about the scene was so divine, and you felt the dawn rise from your heart every morning and reach the sky.
You hugged him from behind by bridging the gap between your bodies and leaned your cheek against his sun-kissed back. Your hands gently caressed his stomach and chest as your lips left kisses on his love reminiscences—one by one.
You could hear him breathing in and out. Unevenly. Yet he was silent. Hands clenched, knuckles white. Of course, he wanted you with a desperate need he had never known. But his regret, sins, and crimes were so overwhelming they consumed him. He thought, how could you be so kind to a thing like him?
Unaware of the voices in his mind, you dropped a kiss on his spine. You kissed the curve of his shoulder. His shoulder blades. Five kisses down his spine, each softer than the other one. For every little moment of pain he had ever felt in his life, you wanted to make it all go away. You kissed his neck, trying to ignore the tension in his muscles, the ache spreading inside you, urging you to end his suffering.
Your words were heavy with sincerity when you said, "I don't care what everyone else thinks about you." You leaned your forehead to his shoulder, your breaths gently caressing his back. "Because you're the only good thing left in this world."
As his eyes widened, he breathed heavily, trying to gain control of himself. "What are you saying?" he asked, his hand caught in his hair. "How can you tell such a thing this after all this?" His hand pointed to the window, to the news on the radio.
Standing on your knees, you kissed the hand caught between his gold locks. The same hand he always tried to cover its scar with a glove. Because the idiot thought his scars would be repulsive. The idiot. Your favorite idiot.
You didn't sit back. Keeping your head there, your nose buried in his hair, and your chest pressed to his back—this smell. You had never seen a sea, but you had heard about them. And you believed if there was ever to be a sea in this hell hole, he would smell like a sunny beach. Sweet, enveloping, and warm.
"That is—" your voice broke when you spoke. "That's what the family is for, Vash."
A sudden searing heat flashed behind his eyes, and his heart leaped at your response. He dropped his hand on his knee and sat still in place by the weight of your words. His hand trembled, and his eyes were willing and wanting but filled with both sadness and happiness.
A family.
All this time, he thought you were with him all along because you didn't have a grasp on his sins, but now, he could see that you already knew everything. And despite all of this, you were still willing to forgive him and give him something he always wanted but never had without even requiring him to earn it or redeem himself.
You touched his arm and traced the tender skin with your fingertips. Scars everywhere. You kissed the back of his elbow. "I'm sorry for everything humans have done to you," you told him, and he took a shallow breath. "Forgive us." Another kiss. "Forgive me."
A delicate warmth filled Vash's heart and melted it into drops of warm honey that soothed the scars in his soul. He turned his head and stared at you with open, vulnerable eyes, a tight jaw, and tensed muscles. No one had ever apologized to him. According to his experience, he was usually the monster, the wicked one. The onus always was on him to make amends.
It stunned him how strange it felt. Up until now, he never thought he deserved forgiveness, let alone someone asking for it.
Running a tired hand across his face, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. A joy filled his heart, causing him to feel heavy with something he wasn't even sure he could describe.
Gratitude, perhaps.
The ache in his chest had grown more assertive, more painful. But for now, he didn't want to think about it. He simply just wanted to enjoy your proximity.
Your hand reached up to stroke the luminous curved shapes on his cheek, tracing them to the softness of the mole beneath his left eye. The look in those aquamarines breaking your heart. You couldn't bear to see his face covered in sorrow and guilt.
"You're a good man, my Vash," you said, your words soft, your hand gentle as you tilted his chin up toward your mouth. He was blinking fast, yet not denying. You whispered words on his lips that no one had ever spelled out for him. "Rem would've been proud of you," you told him, watching the movement in his throat and his effort to keep it together. It didn't take you long to kiss him once, tenderly.
He found himself at a loss for words, opting to convey his emotions through touch instead as he melded his lips with yours. He sighed into your mouth, and you kissed him even more deeply, almost desperately, as if trying to pass over your breaths to him. You could taste the salt on your tongue. The wet drops falling on your cheeks made your flesh burn. You were uncertain whose they were as you continued to try and cling to him.
10:00 am – July 21st
The sheets slowly slipped and fell to the floor as Vash pulled you into his arms, clutching you tight, hardly able to breathe. When he exhaled and looked at you again, there were stories in his eyes, thoughts, whispers, and feelings of things you had never seen before. His whole body seemed to be relaxed in relief. He looked like he was hanging on his sanity by a single, fraying thread. You.
And you promised yourself, at this moment, that you would hold him forever, just like this, until all the pain, the torture, and the suffering was gone, until he'd given a chance to live the kind of life where no one could ever hurt him this deeply ever again.
He touched your cheek. Soft, as if he wasn't sure if you were real. His four fingers caressed the side of your face gently before they slipped behind your neck, caught in that in-between spot below your ear, and his thumb brushed the apple of your cheek, then grazing your bottom lip.
You did so much with these lips, you thought. Touched, kissed, and pressed them against tender parts of his skin. You made promises, and the words they formed, the shapes and sounds they curved around, all for him.
Vash moved closer by just an inch. His free metallic hand cupped the other side of your face. He was holding you like you were made of crystals. Holding you and looking at his own hands, he couldn't believe you were real.
Gone was the man with guns and bullets. These hands treasuring you had never held a weapon. They were perfect and kind, never touched by death. He took your hands and pressed your palms to his face. Tears must have welled up in your eyes when you closed them.
You whispered his name, and he breathed harder than you.
Could this be a dream?
You shook, shuddered, splintered into teardrops, and he held you like no one had before. He wanted you. Seeing him cling to you as he might never let go did something to you, something heady, knowing that he might wish you, or need you, like this, made you want to protect him even though he didn't need your protection.
Gently, he stroked your hair and pressed his lips to your forehead. Gradually, his arms became the arms around your waist; his lips became the lips pressed against yours, his body the warmth you felt.
You weren't even breathing, but you were alive, and he was kissing you. Deeply, desperately. The palms of his hands were rubbing the small of your back as he lifted you into his lap. Your legs automatically wrapped around his hips, allowing him to kiss your neck, throat, and nipples.
You broke apart with his small licks here and there, breathing hard, and stared at him like a bonehead, your brain still too numb to figure out exactly how you two got here.
Tilting his head to a side, he pressed his lips against yours again, seeking you with a burning need, a new kind of desperation. His hands were threaded in your hair, his lips so soft, so urgent against yours, like fire and cinnamon exploding in your mouth.
Vash nibbled your bottom lip in a flash and pulled back just a little bit. Your body was flooded with heat and desire so intense you could hardly think when he parted his lips from you to sigh in your mouth, and that slight sound of pleasure drove you crazy.
Putting one hand under your neck, placing his mouth on your breast, and running his fingers down your back, he pressed your body closer, only to find something hard pressing against your groin.
Oh.
Well.
While he avoided your gaze, he smiled sheepishly and tentatively touched your thighs with his hands. Because of what had happened, you knew he would probably feel embarrassed to ask for it, but that didn't mean you wouldn't give it to him. He deserved the whole world if you had the chance to provide for him. His markings were glowing softly when you squeezed him closer to yourself, holding him tighter.
Biting his lip and stifling his groan, his smart-ass hands slid up your legs and into your thighs. Soon, his lips reached your chest. Your body ached everywhere, tasting colors and sounds you didn't even know existed. His forehead was pressed against your chin, and your hands gripped his shoulders. He was hot, gentle, and somehow in a hurry.
You were beyond the reach of rational thoughts. Beyond words, beyond comprehension. The world was beyond understanding because nothing could ever compare with this. Nothing could ever capture the way you were feeling right now. Nothing mattered anymore. You were left with only this moment: his mouth on your body, his hands on your skin, and his lust deep in his eyes, making you absolutely insane.
Your wetness was no longer a secret when he surrounded you everywhere. As he watched you, you reached down and adjusted his length against your slippery entrance over a few strokes. His pulse could be felt in your palm and soon inside of you.
Using both soft and hard hands, he gently grasped your hips and pulled you down toward him. As he entered, you gasped, every time surprised at his size, clinging desperately to his neck as he hitched your legs around his waist, his prosthetic arm settling beneath your thigh. You loved the feeling of him stretching you. You loved having him this close to you. You loved the way he manhandled you. You loved his hand around your neck and the little squeeze of his fingers around your nape.
His grip tightened when he sensed you were ready for him, and he started moving you up and down. You cried out and leaned your cheek to his nose, dying and somehow being brought back to life in the same moment, in the same breath.
Fuck! You were full of him.
He lifted your thighs, and you bit back the moan stuck in your throat. His mouth wouldn't let go of your skin, kissing you with an intensity that made you wonder why you hadn't died, caught on fire, or woken up from this dream yet. Then he returned his hands to your face and kissed you once, twice.
The room's silence was filled with your heavy breathing, your chest against Vash's. Your pulses hammered against each other. You felt his arms around you become unbearably tight as he yanked you up and down with even more force than before, hitting you in a place he seemed to know too well.
As his teeth caught your bottom lip momentarily, you pushed your nails to his shoulder, running your fingers through his hair to pull him into your mouth. He tasted so sweet. So hot and sweet. You kept trying to say his name, but you couldn't even breathe, much less say a single word.
The pace increased slightly; each thrust was hard, deliberate, wringing gasps, whimpers, and long, rolling moans from you.
Your eyes tingled with tears, falling fast down, traveling quietly down your cheeks, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs two parentheses in your mouth, against your tongue and saliva. As if he had found Adam's ale between million mirages of the desert, he stared at you, his eyes like fire in the water.
"I love you," he whispered over and over, his voice fragile, uneven. His lips covered yours in a tender kiss. He kissed you and tasted your tears, the lingering flavor of pleasure laced in your mouth. He kissed you and kissed you until time toppled over, and your head spun into oblivion.
Vash loved you…
His temple was leaned against yours when you took his earlobe between your teeth, stripped him to his bones, and ruined him from the inside out. Your sweet little tongue was frantic when you whispered, "I'm yours to love."
Hearing your words, he held still for moments, sucking in the air because he felt almost dizzy with satisfaction, running his hands over your thighs.
You. You were his. You, the one who knew if you left him alone at that moment, would fall into the depths of his own hell; if he'd slipped through your fingers, he would be gone, and no one could bring him back. You did not erase all his pain or offer to solve all his problems. You didn't fix everything that was broken, but that wasn't what he needed anyway. What mattered the most was that you stayed.
He loved you.
He loved you so much.
Grasping your soft hips, he buried his face against your shoulder and sped up. You were his undoing, taking him apart and putting him back together differently, better, and more himself than he ever could have been. He gritted his teeth as his orgasm came barreling at him. His hands glided on your back when you shuddered, your inner walls squeezing him so hard he couldn't prevent his release. With a growl, he thrust wildly, once, twice—and then everything around you both disappeared until it was all just colors and light, the sun shines and oceans, apple trees, and blossoms.
Your eyes were still closed, and you felt his hands laced with yours, just to remind you that you had him here and that he was with you. Your partner in everything. His chest heaving, he buried his face in your neck, sweat covering his temples. Kissing him there, you inhaled the scent of his hair.
"You're my family too," you heard him whisper, his words etched into your soul as his lips moved against your skin. And you wished, more than ever, that you could capture moments like this and relive them forever.
12:50 pm – July 21st
You woke up with a smile, your skin still hot from the memory of your vile. You were cleaned with a wet towel, placed in bed with a kiss, and promptly fell asleep. Thankfully, no nightmares this time.
What time was it? You didn't know.
As you stretched your legs under the sheets, you realized your back was against Vash, his prosthetic arm resting on your pillow, the other tucked around your waist. Knowing he had held you this close warmed the pit of your stomach and made you feel so safe that you didn't ever want to move, but you had a thousand things to do today, but you never, ever wanted to move.
Truth be told, you loved these moments the most. The quiet contentment. Being enveloped by his naked body. You never felt closer to him than you did like this when there was nothing between you.
Today was a big day delayed by your nightmare and the sound of that stupid radio! There was no way you were going to let anything overshadow his birthday anymore. Even for a few hours, he deserved this celebration, this little distraction. He deserved to be happy, eat, and laugh.
You sighed, hating to wake him up since he seemed pretty tired. Slowly, you turned around in his arms. A smile tugged at your mouth as you watched him, amazed at how his presence could bring you such peace. He shifted again, burrowing deeper into the pillows, and you realized he must be exhausted.
Watching the movement of his throat, you breathed him in, running your hands along the deep, strong lines of muscle in his arm. His entire being felt raw. Powerful. Being a plant had something wild and terrifying about it; somehow, this knowledge only made you love him more. You traced the contours of his shoulder blades, then his spine. He stirred, but only briefly, and buried his face in your hair.
"Don't go," he whispered softly, pressing his nose to your scalp alongside his lips.
You tilted your head, gently kissing the column of his throat. "Vash," you whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."
Taking a deep breath, he said, "good."
You smiled. "Oh, but we should probably get out of bed. I promised Rosalina I'll help—"
A disapproving sound escaped his throat as he shook his head, deftly helping you turn around. He hugged you close again, your back pressed against his chest. Soft and husky, his voice was full of desire when he said, "C'mon, let me enjoy this. Feeling good."
"You don't want a cake?" you blurted out, but it certainly caught his attention.
You could feel he raised his head, stiffened and confused. "How come Rosalina's making me a cake?"
Did you hear correctly? Had he forgotten about his birthday? Did this day become neglected to the point where it was forgotten?
Turning around, you saw he was sitting, his body frozen and his heart probably pounding furiously. Getting him to attend his birthday would take more effort than you expected. Because he asked how you could possibly plan a party for him, why anyone would throw him a party, what if he didn't even like birthday parties, and so on. Still, you didn't fall short. Since the day he told you about Rem making them a cake for their birthday, you kept track of his birthday. The July incident wasn't going to overshadow his birthday. It was your vow to replace that memory with better ones. That forever and ever, you'd strive to drown out the darkness that had ruined his life.
In his eyes, tragedy and beauty could be seen, a stoicism that wouldn't be shaken, and childlike joy that couldn't help but flow. When he swallowed, you noticed the gentle movement in his throat and moved your hand to his ear, your pinkie touching his earring, then tracing down his jawline. You didn't receive a rejection, but you didn't receive a yes, either. Why wasn't he saying anything? He had you on your worried until he clasped his hands over his face.
Your hand brushed against his undercut as you gently kissed his temple and tried to pry his hands away from his face. "Vash?" you said, your words hardly a whisper. "Is everything alright?"
The reply took him a few seconds to come out, but when he finally did, he nodded. It was only once, but it was enough. "Yeah," he said softly. "I'm okay."
The feeling of relaxation washed over you as you exhaled. "If you don't want a—"
He held and squeezed your hand as he looked at you, his eyes round when he said, a little nervously, "what have I done," he whispered, his voice trembling, "to deserve you?"
Did you die of joy? Because he took your face in his hands and kissed you so passionately, it blew your mind. Your heart began to beat violently, and you didn't recognize yourself. You didn't recognize your hands, your bones, your heart. You felt new. "Thank you," he whispered. "For loving me and everything."
"It's very, very easy to love you, Vash," your lips might have said, but the words never left your lips. You didn't know what to do, so you reeled him in, kissed him, and lost yourself in his taste and feel, in the fantasy of what you might have. What you might be.
But wait! Didn't you know fate was a jealous, vicious mistress that never ever slept?
You blinked.
You blinked again, but this time for too long. You saw a flash of blood spewing inside your open mouth. Nausea returned with a swiftness that scared you. A breath was drawn, your fingers fluttering as you desperately tried pressing them against your stomach. Pain filled your eyes as you kept them open. Clenching your fists, you attempted to control spiraling thoughts.
However, nothing helped. Nothing helped. Nothing, you thought. Nothing, nothing, and nothing.
Where was Vash? Where were you?
Throughout your open eyes, terror oozed from your heart. You heard someone calling your name. A hand brushed lightly along your spine as you shivered suddenly at the unexpected sensation.
" …," the voice said, "do you … ?"
The warmth moved in only to meet the coldness of your skin. You felt it all. Again and again, a touch of his finger did pull you out of your nightmare.
A rustle of sheets caught your attention, and Vash pulled you onto his lap. Straddling him, your legs stretched across the rumpled fabric. Wrapping his arm around you, he spread his hand along your back.
It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream.
Turning carefully in the cradle of his arms, you pressed your forehead to his bare chest, your eyelashes fluttering against his rough gash.
"You okay?" he asked, his metallic fingers combing through your hair in a soothing act.
"Yes," you replied, forcing air into your lungs. You were breathing hard, head spinning as you held on to him. "Yes."
"Is something wrong, Elay?" He probably had lowered his head because his breath was touching your shoulder.
"Nothing," you claimed. Your heart was beating fast, too fast. You didn't know why you were lying. You should have just told him, but you didn't know why you weren't.
Wait.
Actually, you knew.
You were waiting.
You were waiting to see if this shit would pass. It had to, because today was a special day. Because you were already exhausted, and the radio's sound was repeating in your ears. Because you didn't want to add another burden to his shoulders with your silly nightmare. Even more, it wasn't real. Just a figment of your imagination, and saying it out loud would make it sound more real than it really was.
Vash asked no further questions. He was more of an "if you love someone, let them keep their secrets to themselves " guy. He pulled you close, and you melted into him, grateful for his warmth and steady hold. You took a deep, shuddering breath and let it all go, exhaling against him. A faint aroma of caramel lingered in your nostrils as you breathed in his skin's rich, heady scent. The minutes passed silently as you both listened to each other breathe.
01:45 pm – July 21st
It took a while, but your heart rate steadied.
You could feel it.
Here.
This.
Your bones against his bones. This was your home.
"What're you thinking?" His lips touched your neck, a graze that sparked, hot and cold, right down to your toes.
"Been thinking about you." You raised your head and looked at him. He was smiling, the unfaltering sun glinting in his eyes. You could see his fear, hopes, and love for you like a mirror to his soul in those mountain lake-colored spheres. Then there was something else as well—something like bliss. It was a faint glow, but it was there and made you so happy. You had blessed the blessing. He deserved happiness after everything he had been through. After all the horrors he had suffered alone.
"Me?"
As you closed the gap between you two again, you nodded against his chest. Nothing was said, but you could hear his heart racing until he exhaled. It was a heavy, uneven sound, as if he might have been holding his breath for too long.
Gently, you ran your hand along his back. "How long has it been since you celebrated your birthday?" you whispered.
"Hm?" He buried his face in your hair, and his nose glided over your scalp in what appeared to be caressing movements.
It didn't take a genius to figure out when he was ducking a question. You wiggled a little to loosen his grip and looked up. Your fingers ran through the soft, silky strands. The sight of him mesmerized you. His eyes were wide and bright. His lips soft and pale. He was perfect, bare, and beautiful, holding you in his arms. Sighing, you closed your eyes. "Let me ask it this way then," you said, "How many birthdays have you missed so far?"
Nothing came out of his mouth for what seemed like an eternity. You felt him finally move. In a gentle caress, his prosthetic fingers touched your face. "150 birthdays," he whispered, his voice uneven.
Your spine tingled involuntarily. 150 years of solitude. Loneliness. Alone with himself. On this giant planet. Where was his home? Where were his friends? His lovers?
You knew he was so much better at being alone as if being alone came more naturally. He led a life of deliberate seclusion, and when occasional loneliness crept in, he knew how to sink in and absorb its particular comforts or work his way out. After all, there were always bars and saloons and strangers around.
You knew he wanted to carry the weight of life all alone, even the burden of those he once loved. It wasn't fair, though. You had to be allowed to help him carry it all. A frown formed on your face, and you inhaled, "Happy birthday #1! Happy birthday #2! Happy birthday #3!..."
His metallic forefinger stopped your lips. Slowly, you looked up to meet his eyes. His expression was sad, sweet, and filled with love. You felt something thawed inside of you as you stared at him.
"You don't have to do this," he said as he separated his finger from your lips to brush away stray strands of hair from your face. A part of you wished his finger could stay there longer.
"Shut up and let yourself celebrate! We've got at least 150 birthdays to catch up on!"
He kissed your eye, and you felt his smile on your eyelid. His lips started moving tardily when he said, "I don't—"
"Shhhh! Since you interrupted me, I'm starting over!" you snapped and continued, "Happy birthday #1! Happy birthday #2! …"
The smile on his face grew bigger and bigger, as if he was filled with so much joy that he hardly recognized himself. You couldn't recall the last time he smiled this much. It was the most pure, unburdened bliss you had ever experienced.
He held you the entire time you felicitated all his forgotten birthdays. You could see it in how he looked at you. You could feel his fears disappearing and his emotions becoming something else. Now, his touch was hot and electric against your skin. Your heart was beating faster and harder, and he didn't have to say anything. You could feel the temperature change between you.
"You," he said, staring at your mouth. He touched his nose to yours, and something inside you jolted to life. You heard your breath caught, your ears turning red, unbidden. "I love you," he whispered.
The words did something to you every time you heard them. They built something new inside of you. You swallowed hard. A fire consumed your mind. "You know," you mumbled shyly, "It never gets old hearing you say that."
Leaning you back a little, he moved, his nose brushed the line of your jaw, and his lips touched your throat. You were holding your breath, terrified to move, to leave this moment.
"I love you," he said again.
Heat filled your veins. You could feel him in your blood, his whispers overwhelming your senses.
"Vash," you said. You wanted to talk to him about what happened hours ago. You knew you should've moved and snapped out of this but couldn't. You couldn't think. And then his hand brushed against your breasts. You breathed quickly, fighting against a sudden rush of pleasure.
It was impossible to pretend anything when he was this close to you. You knew he could feel how badly you wanted him. You could feel him, too. His heat. His desire. He made no secret of what he wanted from you. What he wanted you to do to him.
He kissed you softly, wrapping his arms around you, one too cold, the other too hot. Your body shifted forward in his embrace as you took another painful, agonizing breath.
"I know you're worried," he said, his lips too close to yours and his hot breath in your mouth. "I know we have to talk, but—" He never finished that sentence. He kissed you as he reached down, trailing his fingers along the inner parts of your thighs, and the movement seared through you. Your vision went white. You heard nothing but the pounding of your heart, then you remembered.
"Vash? Um-I have to-ah," you panted, "she is waiting."
You could feel his smile as he whispered the word in your ear. His fingers were teasing your groins. "Please." And you were gone.
One hand kept your head steady, the other roamed around your loins, and he kissed and melted you. Your eyes met his, and the feeling threatened to drown you. He kissed you, and every thought and worry wicked away, replaced by the feel of his mouth against your skin, his hand claiming your body.
Holy Molly!
He eft his kisses everywhere like he knew, like he knew how desperately you needed this, needed him, needed this comfort and release.
Like he needed it, too.
Taking hold of his neck, you raised yourself up to kiss his nose, cheeks, and lips. The line of your bodies was welded together. You felt yourself dissolving, becoming pure emotion as he parted his lips, teased you, and breathed into your mouth. "I love you," he said, gasping the words.
He kissed the top of your shoulder, and his artificial hand wandered over your body, down your back, cupping your back side, lingering on your upper thighs like he wanted to memorize the shape of you, always leaving you in awe of how gentle he was. Your muscles tightened with longing, and you were surprised at how much you wanted him.
Again.
So soon.
However, you had to stop this.
"I'd better get dressed," you said, pulling yourself back, grabbing sheets, and covering yourself with them. "I've got stuff to do."
A grin spread across his face as he watched you as if he could sense your frustration. You crawled from his lap, the bedsheets catching under your knees and making you lose your composure. Like a sneaky fox, he couldn't resist taking advantage of the moment. He yanked the rest of the sheet away from you and tucked you underneath him. His weight pinned you to the mattress, a knee intentionally jammed between your legs and slowly grinding you down.
"Here's what I want for my birthday," he said, kissing your parted lips. He knew what he was doing and knew you couldn't comprehend his words. "I have this idea. Just hear me out; I think that maybe you should consider being naked all the time. I mean, just always. Okay?"
"Okay. I have to—" What were you saying? He had his mouth all over you, sucking at your breasts, licking your throat, his fingers going straight to your sensitive spots.
The moment he got there, you knew you wouldn't let him go, even if he wanted to. So, you needed to gather your wits and act before it was too late.
Think. Think. Think.
"Vash!" you gasped, pushing him up with your hand as much as possible. "I know you're going nuts like a hunk in heat," you said, holding his cheeks between your hands and staring at his big downturned eyes. "I gotta shower and go to the saloon so you can meet me there at eight, okay, good boy?" You tapped on his shoulder.
With raised eyebrows, Vash got off you, but you remained trapped between his knees. Although he crossed his arms and pretended to be mad, you could see him fighting back a smile. It was amazing how that poor piece of sheet managed to cover his hips; otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to focus on his face.
"You were going to take a shower without me?" he said sternly.
You couldn't figure out what to say for a moment and then carefully asked, "would you like to join me?"
Considering your offer, he gazed at you, up and down, with a sweet, secret smile. The look in his eyes was enough to persuade you to agree to anything. You would do anything for this man if he asked. Even if he didn't bother to ask.
"Vash."
Your heart was heavy as you whispered his name, filled with emotion. You went still as he hovered over you, gently mouthing your nipples. His kisses grow more intent, leaving a trail of fire across your chest, down your torso, and rushing through your veins.
Suddenly, you forgot why you were even in such a hurry.
Your hands slipped around his neck, and you reeled him in. He felt incredible against you, his body fitting perfectly. You tilted his face up, your hand caught somewhere behind his neck and the base of his jaw, and you kissed him softly and slowly, heat filling your blood with dangerous speed.
As one hand held him steady, the other skimmed the smooth skin of your waist, gripping your hip hard. He parted your legs with his thigh, hearing you make a desperate sound deep in your throat, and it did something to him, to feel and hear you like that, to be assaulted by your pleasure and desire. It drove him crazy.
Vash buried his face in your neck, and his hand moved up to feel your breasts' tender skin, hot, soft, and sensitive to his touch. He wanted your body under his hands, the scent of your skin, and the light whisper of your hair against his. Licking your earlobes, he tried to ignore the strain in his muscles and the hard, desperate pressure driving him towards you, toward madness.
An ache was expanding inside you and demanding more, craving him to flip you over and lose yourself in you. You clung to him, your eyes half-lidded, your face flushed. Your breathes were heavy when you said, "take me, Vash."
His eyes widened, and he stared at you like he might be going deaf and blind at the same time, hunching over from the effort of inhaling and exhaling. He said nothing and only looked at you carefully from the top, drinking you in. His pulse was wild, his mind racing. There was no way he could refuse you.
02:50 pm - July 21st
Vash stepped aside, and you pushed the sheets away when he asked you to get up. Soon you were standing in the middle of the room as he had demanded.
He couldn't look away from you and probably couldn't even hear himself think over his heart beating fast like a thud against his skull. Pinning you against the closest wall, he kissed you wild enough for you never to forget why he was called the stampede. His fingers touched every everywhere. Every bend and arc. Every pit and hole. Leaving gentle slaps and smacks on the soft skin of yours.
It was lovely to feel your soft curves against his rough edges, and somehow, the paradox between the smoothness of your bodies pressed against each other made the scene even more surreal. In order not to miss any precious time, he picked you up, and you gasped, shocked, and scrambled to hold on for dear life. He pushed the bathroom door aside with his shoulder and carried you into the shower.
He needed you. Needed this. Now. You could see it in his eyes, in the upward arch of his erection.
He drew a deep, unsteady breath before switching the tap on.
A short scream tore through your throat.
You two got soaked in cold water as he pressed your front against the shower wall, losing himself in you like never before. His kisses were more profound, more desperate, and his hands less considerate than before. The heat more explosive, and everything between you wild, raw, and vulnerable. His mouth devoured you. He had his lips all over your body, his tongue tasting new places.
With the cold tiles touching your breasts, a sensation of pleasure spread throughout your entire body. You could feel it, the bottom half of your body urging you to press against him more deeply and fully. He had to hear the pleas of every cell in your body because his next thrust was so intense that you had to hold on to the wall with your palms to steady yourself while your cheeks pressed more and more against the cold ceramic as he had his way with you.
You lost track of time.
You had no idea how long you had been here. You didn't know how long he had gone haywire in you. Your knees were starting to shake when he turned you around, and your eyes fell on his soaked hair sticking to his forehead and clumping eyelashes blinking slowly. You considered yourself lucky for not only seeing such a marvel but also tasting him and feeling him.
With such hunger, he kissed your lips like he hadn't had them in years. You felt the hard tiles press against your back as he pushed himself inside, without hesitating to move up and down. Over and over again, you were lauded, his panting echoing within four walls.
So many times that you wanted to open your mouth to protest, but every time he took one turgid nipple into his mouth. Heat surged through your blood as his teeth scraped over the end of one, and you moaned instead of complaining. You couldn't stop thinking about how good it felt to feel him inside you, his tongue twirling around your other breast.
The pressure was built. You were consumed by the need to reach the climax in every action. Your stomach muscles were tightening and quivering.
He moved his hands from your hips to your head, tangles of wet hair wrapping around his fingers as he pulled you upwards for a kiss. His tongue immediately thrust past your lips, and he increased his speed.
God! Nothing had ever tasted as good as Vash, you thought. Sensual, decadent, the flavor of him slipped through you.
His hands clenched tighter in your hair, and his teeth bit the flesh of your neck, but you barely noticed, barely caring about the hickey it would leave as he threw back his head, groaning your name. The sight of him in the throes of his peak drove you to the edge, your inner muscles clamping around his hardness, pulling him in deeper.
You cried out, clutching his shoulders so tightly that your fingernails dug into his skin, and your screams were muffled against his chest. The plunk of shower water running between your feet could be heard as your body shook, and he leaned his forehead against your head.
His hot released load was dripping and sliding down on your thighs when you collapsed into his arms, feeling weak and unsteady. He held you close to himself, tight yet so gentle, stroking your wet hair with his fingers and leaving small pecks wherever he could reach. "We should eat something," he said, kissing the curve of your shoulder and the sides of your neck.
You were intoxicated by the pure, stunning power of his emotions, endless waves of love and desire, love and kindness, love and joy, love and tenderness.
So much tenderness.
You pressed your cheek against his chest and held him as he braced himself against the wall. Your bodies were wet and heavy with feeling, your hearts pounding with something more powerful than you had ever imagined possible.
Water was dripping from the mess of his hair. So gorgeous, you thought. Then you forgot where you were and what you were going to do. Your arms and limbs trembled slightly, and he was too terrified to let you go.
Too in love to let you go.
07:15 pm - July 21st
As night fell, the blue haze of the day lifted and revealed the stars brightening the sky, shining like beams of happiness, appearing still as an old photograph. The wind blew Vash's hair into a tousled bun.
He walked out of his favorite shop and leaned against the wall with a big bag of donuts and an even bigger smile. Yeah, he perfectly knew he would eat cake, but eating donuts had nothing to do with it: a warm-up, just appetizers.
His eyes followed the long shadows of townies milling around under the flickering lamppost lights, even though he couldn't make out any faces from such afar. He liked this town. It was so small that his typhoon hadn't yet found it. Or maybe because he was a stranger here. Nobody knew him, and everybody was safe from the curse his name carried around.
Everybody but you.
You already had been spelled by those fifteen letters.
V-A-S-H-T-H-E-S-T-A-M-P-E-D-E
Taking a look around, he tried to find a clock on a building or something. The birthday boy didn't want to be late. This and, of course, the words you uttered before you left the house:
"Eight o'clock, Vash. Don't forget! Don't be late! Don't be early and wear that white shirt. See you there!"
He sighed and took a donut from the bag, careful not to stain his white shirt with his clumsiness. It smelled great. What a heavenly aroma, smelling like honey. This and you and this town. It sure felt good to see happy people around.
Without further ado, he took a bite of his sugar-coated donut.
He expected it to taste incredible and super tasty, like being alive, but he couldn't feel it. There was a sense of numbness in him. The weight of an unknown worry was heavy against his heart.
A muffled whistle-like sound echoed in the distance, followed by several. Another shot rang out, this time sounding like it was meant. Suffocating silence, creaking doors, and screams that tore the sky open.
He felt strangely dull, as if his connection with his body had been cut off. The bag fell to the ground, and the donuts scattered around. People were crying, weeping, but all he could hear was the wind's wails in his ears, slapping sharply against his face.
He took uncertain steps forward. The area outside the saloon looked like more than a graveyard. It was worse than he had expected. There were injured people everywhere; some collapsed on the ground.
From where he stood, he counted two men, one woman, and a child dead. Open eyes, mouths agape, fresh blood still dripping down limp bodies. Where were you? Something about that realization struck fear into his veins.
The horrifying possibilities flashed through his mind. His mind was blank as to what had happened. Were you okay?
Vash looked over the crowd, still staring, waiting for you to show up. Waiting for you to find him. But you weren't anywhere to be found. In the chaos, he ran from one to another, people scattered around, and he didn't see you. The terror of this moment kicked him in the gut.
So many thoughts were tangled in his head that he couldn't untie the insanity. He glanced back at the doors you were supposed to come out, opening it with a smile.
He waited. He waited longer than was reasonable. Then he called you. Quietly at first, then louder. He shouted your name. His chest was being torn apart by fear, squeezing his heart. A part of him was afraid to speak the words aloud, fearful of making them true.
His legs felt like they had been formed from fresh clay, like he was moving through a fog. His voice reached everyone, pleading this time, running forward until the doors were in his line of sight.
"Is she in?" he asked, but no one answered. Everybody was frozen by the agony of the moment. All that could be heard were silent weeps and the wind howling.
Vash gulped, his throat all dry, and walked in; his lips parted, his eyes wide and horrified. The blood in his veins all ice.
Pain.
It began at his feet, bloomed up his legs, unfurled in his stomach, and worked its way up to his throat, only to explode behind his eyes. The sudden scream ripped itself from his lungs. It wrenched free from his chest without warning, without permission, and it was a scream so loud, so hard and violent, it broke his back. His hands were pressed against his knees, his head half bent.
Echoes of his misery would never be lost in the wind or carried away by the clouds but would always live between these walls. Forever.
His voice was unfamiliar to him. The horror, shock, and dread that flooded his body was something he had never felt — never known before, not like this.
The popped balloons on the walls. A half-ruined cake on the counter. Blood-stained confetti all around. A shoeless foot lying on the floor. Locks of tousled hair slipped from the makeshift shroud.
The numbness was now merciful, at least for a few moments. Then, everything crashed.
Vash fell next to the body. The knowledge rushed up in him, choking off his breath. Another scream tore its way out. Then another, and another. It felt as if his very essence had been ripped from him.
He pulled you into his arms, clutching you tightly, barely able to breathe. His fingers seized your hair and yanked it from your face. The golden strands of his hair fell onto your bloody face. You were called over and over, but it didn't seem like anything more than a sound. His pleas were like commands, begging you to open your eyes, but you ignored them as if playing a nasty prank.
Vash held both of your hands in his. There was no touch. All he felt was an empty coldness. The silence grew even louder, consuming him like a pitch-black shadow. Biting his lip, he tasted a faint metallic taste on his tongue. The desperation in his expression, the grief carved into his features, the way he looked at you as if he were about to pass the gates of hell and utter his last farewell.
Suddenly, he wanted to laugh one of those strange, high-pitched, delusional laughs that marked the end of sanity. Because this world, he thought, had a terrible sense of humor. It always seemed to mock him, making his life more miserable and ruining his dreams by destroying everything he ever loved.
You were dead. This pain was truly real.
Vash broke apart. Sobs cracked open his chest and cried until the pain spiraled and peaked; he bawled until his head throbbed and his eyes swelled. His fingers dug into your back as he called, desperate for a sign of hope. Your hollow body was clutched to his heart, and he felt the injustice roared through him. The feeling fractured him apart. His forehead pressed against your cheek, and his mouth trembled as he whispered, "C-Come ba-ck." The words fell apart. He could only mumble stuttering sounds.
He kissed your knuckles briefly. Would you have blushed if you were still breathing, whining about how cheesy he was being? He could only imagine your reactions now.
Hot tears streamed down his face, and he squeezed his eyelids shut in an effort to make them stop. He sat there unmoving for quite some time with choppy breathing and watery eyes.
09:00 pm - July 21st
Things were in a state of disarray in his vision. People were coming in with dropped shoulders and muffled weeps in the air. Someone approached and touched his shoulder for comfort, and a fierce unknown rage emerged in him. He could kill the man there but would have to let go of you, and he couldn't.
Vash turned his face back and held you so tightly like you would be able to feel the faint beat of his heart. He wept, cradling you, and he wouldn't move nor speak a word other than your name. It was like seeing the sun through the water. His tears fell, but you wouldn't be able to kiss them away this time.
"How dare you mourn her!" Someone bent over him. "You killed her!" Weak fists landed on his back but hurt him more than torture and shots. "She died because of you! You bring misfortune and destruction everywhere you go!" yelled Rosalina with a devastated voice.
Words, he thought, were such unpredictable creatures. No gun, knife, army, or enemy could ever be more powerful than a sentence. Blades may cut and kill, but words would stab and stay, burying into the future, digging and failing to rip his skeletons from his flesh. These weren't nice things to say. Not now. Not after what he was going through. Not when his white shirt was covered in your blood, and his hands burned with the bit of warmth left in your body.
Vash continued to hold you, silent and steady, even as the tears receded, even when he began to tremble. He had you tight as his body shook, held you close when the tears started anew, held you in his arms, and stroked your hair, whispering, "Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me." His voice was a terrible thing, cracked and broken.
He felt guilty. Anyone who got close to him was doomed to die. He thought his actions and inactions always took away his loved ones. Oh, stubborn, stubborn Vash! Of course, he would blame himself for something that had nothing to do with him.
The once happy eyes of Rosalina spilled hot tears on his shirt. "For two years, you lived among us, looked into our eyes every day, and lied about who you are, Vash the Stampede!"
Several gasps were heard from the crowd, followed by whispers filling the air.
Vash the stampede was here.
Chaos.
Questions flew, and weeps were muffled. Everyone was shocked, horrified, freaking out. You had long been forgotten, he thought.
"Is he the most wanted Vash the Stampede?"
"Were there raids in the saloon because of him?"
"The bounty hunters were after the money on his head?"
"They shot us and ran away because of this man?"
"This guy really had us fooled!"
"Is this true?"
Vash's reality was too broken, too distracted to process these kinds of talks. This horrible instant was one mess of insanity in his mind. He couldn't make any sense of it. He didn't answer a word to anyone and just stroked your cold cheek with as much gentleness as he could.
Someone shouted, "What's the hell's the matter with you? Say something. At least make some excuse!"
"Shame on you for bringing danger to our town!"
"We've heard enough of your crying!"
"At least have the decency and go die like a man!"
"No normal human being could cause all these horrible things! He had to be a monster! Who else could have been responsible?"
"Did you feel some of the pain of people who died because of your reckless behaviors?"
He was dying, he thought. He must be. He thought he knew what death was like, but he must have been wrong because this was a whole different kind of dying—a whole different kind of pain.
"That girl died protecting this demon?"
"She knew about the humanoid typhoon all this time." The man gulped and pointed at your dead body. "Our loved ones are dead and hurt because of her stupid devotion to this walking disaster!"
The scene was quite unbelievable, horrifying. His mind reeled, incapable of comprehending or processing what he was hearing. Everything in him came to a halt while his thoughts caught up. It was for him that you died. The shock brought a quietness, a moment to gird his soul for what would come. Truth poured gasoline on the spark of denial in his belly, burning him alive. It fashioned itself into a knife and stabbed him in the eye. And the funny thing was, he didn't want to do anything to stop it. Anguish was all that remained of you; he embraced it with all he was. He deserved it. So he bled with a smile on his face, wishing the pain to end him this time.
"If that self-righteous whore had revealed his whereabouts, not only would she be alive now, but the others wouldn't be dead either!"
Blackness seemed to press against his eyes, ears, and throat. He couldn't breathe, hear, or see clearly, and the suffocation of the moment was so terrifying that he was almost sure he had lost his mind.
How many insults can one person take before throwing in the fucking towel? For him, that number was infinite, but for you, he wouldn't allow even one.
He stood up and grabbed a fistful of the man's shirt. He pointed a gun at the infamous criminal, but Vash ripped the gun out of his hand. "What did you say about her?" he asked with a voice like a rusty saw that wanted to cut the bone. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were burning in absolute rage. Nobody had seen him like this. Not once. People were so used to his calm and kind demeanor that this side of him scared them. If they wanted a typhoon, they'd get one. He was fortified with a new kind of anger, a desperate, animal intensity that overpowered him and forced him to stand still.
The man was trembling in his grip. "N-nothing," he finally said. Vash's pulse was racing, breathing heavily, almost like he would burst. The muscles in his hand tensed, causing him to crack his knuckles. Almost like a blazing inferno, his blood boiled in his veins, burning him from the inside out. He was mainly angry with himself, but that wouldn't stop his urge to hunt each and every single one of those bounty hunters, just to make sure they suffered and felt a lot of pain, just like he felt. No longer did he want to show sympathy to anyone. Maybe he was really a monster, wasn't he?
"If they learn your name and start haunting you, we'll run away! We'll run, run, run, and keep running as far as we have to! And when things calm down, we'll settle by their side again. You won't kill. You'll never kill anyone again, and one day, people will begin seeing you as I do."
Recalling your words, his eyes widened, and his fist loosened. The man's face was devoid of color. Vash tried to read his eyes for something but saw nothing but terror in the end. He was afraid.
No.
Your race was merciless. How could they say such a thing about one of their own? This man probably deserved the worst, but you didn't want Vash to be cruel, only to be kind. And he couldn't do this to you. Because if he did and an afterlife existed, you'd probably be the only sad person in heaven right now.
Dropping the man on the floor, Vash crushed his gun in his hand and tossed it away. The stranger was groaning and hunching over when he returned to you.
It was the first time Rosalina had seen him like this, her brain unable to digest or process this information. Unlike the man she knew, this one had cold, sharp eyes only focused on you. The look on his face was different. Scary, even. Somehow that worried her even more. She might be sad for you, even hate her people for having talked disparagingly about you; maybe she would give them a piece of her mind and grieve your loss. Maybe. Right now, though, her child's safety was her top priority, and this blood-stained man didn't look very stable.
"Listen, we don't want to die! Leave here and never come back!"
Vash sat by your side, helpless, as if something had broken inside him and all his emotions had poured out. When you left him alone, did you take some part of him with you?
"Get her out of this town. This disaster would've never happened if you hadn't stumbled into this town. She'd still be alive," Rosalina said firmly, staring at your peaceful face like you were in a deep sleep.
Vash didn't answer or even glance at the woman who wanted to help you celebrate his birthday. Like an orphan, he pulled you impossibly close, your bodies soldering together. He pondered Rosalina's words and the night he saw you and wondered whether your life would have been different if he hadn't met you. Who was even capable of answering this? As he whispered your name and begged you for forgiveness, his tears washed the blood from your cheeks, and Rosalina felt something inside her die. As she watched him willingly take all blame upon himself alone, as if he was already familiar with this feeling, she felt something break apart inside her.
Vash resembled his wanted posters now. A tall man with blond hair covered in red, but this time, it was your blood instead of his famous coat. His hands were trembling so hard he couldn't even recognize them anymore. Even so, he picked you up, cuddling you in his arms, only to notice the hickey on your neck from hours ago. Pain cramped his joints, breaking away every single bone in his body. He wanted to shriek through the sky; he wanted to fall to his knees again and sob into the ground. He didn't know why the agony wasn't finding an escape through his tears.
"Think way back. Remember that story I told you? About the man that found a blank ticket that could take him anywhere he wanted? That man is all of us. Where you go is yours to choose. You'll always have that ticket in your pocket, no matter what darkness life throws at you. When you're ready, write down the destination. I promise you. You'll be alright."
He wished Rem was right, but there was no such concept as happiness in this world. There was only endless strife, destruction, and death. There was only loneliness, pain, and regret. Whatever he did, no matter how much he pleaded, no matter how much he wished with all his heart to make things right, life always had a way of taking everything from him.
It seemed like Vash the Stampede's life had peaked, and nothing that came after you would ever matter to him. Because for him, there was before you, and there was during you, but he didn't want any after you. You were the light he never knew he needed. He was lost in the darkness, wandering life without direction. Then he found you, and you brought him warmth and light. You were the one who saved him. Twice and he couldn't do the same.
As he walked forward, he pleaded with his bones to remain steady, to carry him through the rest of the day and into the rest of his meaningless life. He passed through the crowd as if he had never been a part of them. The sand dragged under his feet, his knees weak, but he held you tight and walked away. His footprints grew smaller and smaller until there was only the empty silence of a long, lonely night.
Let's let him be for now. Everyone deserves to be left alone for a moment or two, right? Be that as it may, he always lost his most precious ones on his birthdays. Maybe it would have been better if he had never been born so that he would not have to endure so much grief alone. Or perhaps it was the way it was so we could be part of his life.
Author note: My real world had grown so dark that I didn't want to live in it. That's why I escaped and spent the day in a world darker than mine. Please accept my sincere apologies for dragging you down here with me ^_^
If you have anything to say, don't be shy to use ASK and the comment sections.
Disclaimers: This fan-written story contains quotes from "The Song of Achilles", "King Killer Chronicles", "Shatter Me" series and "Reminders of him" books, "Hamlet" play, and "I am unafraid with him" poem by pencap on Tumblr.
The arts are from "Trigun Stampede" anime.
#vash the stampede smut#vash smut#trigun smut#vash the stampede x you#vash the stampede x reader#trigun x reader#vash the stampede fluff#vash the stampede angst#vash x reader#vash x you#vash x y/n#vash the stampede#vash stampede x reader#tristamp#trigun fanfiction#trigun stampede#vash stampede#vash the stampede x y/n#vash our beloved#tristamp vash#trigun vash#trigun 2023#trigun 98#vash is babygirl#vash fluff#vash saverem
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↳ 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐘 𝐁𝐅 𝐕𝐀𝐒𝐇 — vash the stampede
vash brainrot headcanons cuz i watched tristamp and i cant stop thinking abt him
- he’s a clingy boyfriend. like 100%.
- big puppy boyfriend who likes to follow you around and watch you do literally anything.
- getting up in the morning is the worst especially when he’s still sleepy
- he’s got his arms loosely wrapped around your waist, his prosthetic hard as he squeezes against your side. and you have to drag him into the bathroom when you get up to brush your teeth.
- youre weakly pushing him off but he’s still got a strong hold on you even half asleep. so you end up brushing your teeth over the sink as he slumps himself against your back, nuzzling into your shoulder as his blonde hair falls over your neck.
- you’ve got on one of his shirts and its big and practically falling off your figure, revealing your skin underneath. and his fingers are slipping under it, cold, prosthetic fingers pressing into your warm skin causing a shiver to run down your back. and when you almost choke on your toothpaste from the chill, he only chuckles softly.
- oh and his voice is so raspy in the mornings.. much different from his normal cheery tone. late at night and early in the morning, it takes on a husky sound to it, kind of rough around the edges when he speaks. oh and he speaks so slowly and calm. its always deep and rumbly whenever he’s laying on your chest in bed.
- and honestly, he likes to be the small spoon let be real! he’s not ashamed or embarrassed, he simply loves you. so he’ll cuddle up under the covers and wrap his arms tightly around your waist while he buries his head in your neck or chest.
- huge boyfriend who also likes it when you gently pet his hair when youre in bed with him.
- but also other times he likes to be big spoon. completely enveloping you in his body, hes curling around you, arms and legs. and its honestly almost uncomfortable with the way he curls up on you, its restricting and so so so warm, hes definitely a living heating pad.
- but like ? he doesnt even realize.. he just likes cuddling and being close to you ‘wym its too hot? ^^’
- also i feel like at night, he literally never lets you go. like even in his sleep, he knows where you are and where to reach for you to pull you back in. his arms are strong and firm against your sides even as he sleeps
okay vash sleepy brainrot over :3 wolfwood headcanons next idk maybe !!
#h4venpha#vash x y/n#vash the stampede#vash x reader#vash x you#trigun stampede#trigun#tristamp#trigun manga#trigun maximum#trigun anime#vash headcanons#vash fluff#nicholas d. wolfwood#wolfwood headcanons#trigun 2023
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