✩ Characters: Vash, Knives (Yeah, yeah, I know. But you're on my playground 😏)
✩ Сontains: gn!reader, fluff, short imagines, drabbles
Ah... Imagine sleeping next to one of them ⭐💤
P.S. I'm going to write the second part about Nicholas and Livio 🌚
Vash the Stampede
Vash loves falling asleep while cuddling with you - he sticks to you like a leech. If you turn him down, he'll sulk all evening, but then he'll sneak into bed with you anyway. He won't let you fall asleep alone.
Vash loves being the little spoon. He falls asleep quickly on your chest. He gently hugs you like his a favorite teddy bear, pressing close to you and wrapping his arms and legs around you? but without making you feel confined. However? this idyll doesn't last long...
Vash sleeps like a restless little devil. He's constantly tossing and turning, rolling from one side to the other, twitching, and taking up most of the bed. Forget about getting a good night's sleep. And he mumbles in his sleep with souch a blissful look on his face - so silly and sweet that it's impossile to stay mad at him. Who knows, maybe he's dreaming about delicious donuts or something like that?
But sometimes... Sometimes his face takes on an anguished, almost pained expression. His eyebrows are drawn together, his temples glisten with sweat, he gasps for air through his mouth, and tosses and turns on the pillow, yet he doesn’t wake up. He’s having nightmares. Please hug him, stroke his spiky hair, whisper tender words, and hold him close to your chest again. Your touch will help him calm down and drift back into a carefree sleep.
Vash usually wakes up early in the morning - after all, his workouts won't wait - but if he's sleeping with you, he'll hapilly stay in bed for couple more hours. Or maybe even all day - a day off wouldn't hurt.
Millions Knives
Sleep with you? Sleep with anyone? You risk losing your head for even thinking that!
No! No! And NO again!
He won't stoop that low. He wouldn't allow himself to.
Under no circumstances would Knives sneak into your bedroom at night like an invisible shadow, absolutely certain that you’re asleep, tiptoeing across the floor so that a random creak wouldn’t wake you up and give away his presence. Just as quietly, he won’t lower himself onto the sheets behind you, still keeping his distance, avoiding any physical contact. He won't. He won't fall asleep. Someone like him doesn't need to...
Wait. Or maybe...
To this own disappointment, balancibg on the edge between reality and something vaguely resembling a dream, Knives unconsciously leans forward you. The distance dangerously shrinks to barely perceptible.
No, he still isn't touching you. Maybe only the tip of his nose is almost touching the hair at the back of your head. Almost. Maybe it only seems that way. that doesn't count, right?
Knives is barely breathing. He's so sensitive and alert, even in this sleepy haze. Oh God. Don't you dare wake up. Not now. Just a little longer. Just a tiny bit longer.
He’ll slip out of the bedroom before the first rays of sunlight. He’ll vanish just as quietly as he appeared. Or maybe he was never here at all, and you just dreamed it all up, silly?
Summary: Is it possible for plants and humans to procreate? (sequel to "No More Denial")
Word Count: 4000+
Warnings: angst, cursing, injuries, some medical terminology, female reader, slightly suggestive content, pregnancy, fluff, comfort, reassurance, crying, good ending
a/n: Not proofread. Oh my gosh, I was listening to “Sea of Love - Cat Power” and I got very emotional, especially writing that first part with Vash being so sweet. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
[Sequel] "No More Denial"
Main Masterlist
Coldness shivered up his spine, the tremouring causing the tiniest shuffle from her to get closer despite being already as close as could be.
The sky was dark, twinkling in a star-like light, but he wasn’t looking up, no. Vash was looking at Y/N, the restful look on her face bringing him peace. His bright blue eyes took in every detail of her, from the wisps of hair to her soft lips, that parted with a light exhale of air.
It was the middle of the night, most definitely, and everyone was asleep but Vash couldn’t find it in him to do so. His mind was occupied, focused on Y/N who laid on her back, head tucked against Vash’s chest with his flesh arm wrapped under her to keep her where she was.
Ever since Y/N confessed that she might be pregnant, he thought of nothing else. They weren’t completely sure due to their physiological differences, but Vash couldn’t deny the flutter in his chest at the mere idea of it. At first, he was scared because if plants and humans could have children, then what would that do to a human body? Vash and his brother did start out as babies themselves, but they grew exceptionally faster than any human so if that were the case would Y/N survive a pregnancy like that.
However, in the couple of days since he found out, the nervousness faded to give way to excitement.
He didn’t say it out loud, but it was in the way he looked at Y/N; eyes watching intently at every little thing. Not that he didn’t do those things already since he had never been in love before, it was simply different. He watched how Y/N would tuck her hair behind her ear when it had fallen in her face, or how she’d laugh, heartfelt and contagious, or how she’d speak so softly to him when whispering those three words he grew accustomed to. In all those actions, little behaviors, his mind wondered if his child would have quirks like that.
Feeling her shift again, Vash followed Y/N as she subconsciously readjusted herself into a more comfortable position, without leaving his chest.
He smiled, tightening his hold a bit, before relaxing his body. Eyes trailed down from Y/N’s undisturbed features to her stomach; looking the same, with no bump to show, though Vash felt himself tear up anyway. He carefully raised his prosthetic hand to lay his palm fully over the expanse of her tummy.
“I hope you’re there, little one.” The blonde barely whispered, gaze flitting up to Y/N to now see the slightest of smiles at the corner of her lips. Whether it was conscious or her body’s familiarity with his touch, a deep warmth washed over his body, and pooled in his chest.
He really wanted to be a father.
Ship 3 was in sight even from a handful of miles away.
When Vash told Wolfwood, Meryl and Roberto that they needed to visit Ludia and the others at Ship 3, they were confused because, turns out, they had not caught a word that Y/N had spoken to Knives when he confronted her.
So Vash and Y/N explained.
“You’re pregnant?!” Both Wolfwood and Meryl sputtered out in shock, while Roberto stared wide eyed.
He sighed shortly after, “I’m not drunk enough for this.”
“Well to preface, we’re not exactly sure.” Vash anxiously explained, rubbing the back of his neck.
Y/N, who sat at the floor of the truck, spoke up. “I have all the symptoms though; fatigue, nausea, headaches, and I haven’t had my monthly…ya know.”
“Ah, say no more.” Meryl blurted out, understanding what she meant.
“But Ludia, can tell us more. She’ll be able to see if Y/N is actually pregnant or not. And she’ll be able to treat Y/N’s leg better than I can out here.” Vash added, gesturing to the entire desert surrounding them.
There was a pause between them, each person giving themselves a moment to breathe as they thought about the situation.
“Has this ever happened before? Between a plant and a human?” Meryl questioned, curiosity coating her tone with a hint of worry.
Y/N and Vash shared a glance then Vash answered solemnly, regretting that he didn’t have all the answers. “As far as I know, no. This has never happened before.”
“Then let’s get going. Can’t have a pregnant lady sitting out in the hot sun with a bloody leg.” Wolfwood chirped in, smirking with a cigarette in his mouth.
The group gave a small laugh, breaking the tension before they hit the road.
That was, now, three days ago, and they had finally arrived.
Vash walked to the front, being the first one to walk up to the enormous ship with Y/N cradled in his arms.
“Vash, you don’t have to carry me. I can walk.” Y/N protested, though made no attempt to stop him.
He grinned down at her with that award winning smile, “But this way, you won’t hurt your leg anymore and make it worse. Besides, I never heard any complaints about being held.”
Y/N bit her bottom lip, stuffing her face into his chest, feeling her face beam with embarrassment. Vash simply laughed.
“Get a room you two.” Meryl grumbled, trailing behind them.
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how we ended up in this situation.” Wolfwood retorted, puffing out a plume of smoke.
Meryl cringed at the comment, “Ew, shut up.”
Roberto reached into his jacket to pull out his flask then took a drink.
Once they stepped inside, the five of them were first met with Ludia, who smiled the moment she saw the blonde.
“Vash! It’s good to see you again.” Ludia happily greeted, walking over to them but quickly noticed not only Y/N being carried by Vash, but her bandaged leg. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine, we just ran into a bit of trouble a few days ago.” Vash casually explained, trying not to think too much about what happened.
Ludia spared a look to Y/N then the others behind them, seeing the exhaustion on all of their faces and when she look back to Vash, she could see he was as tired, maybe even more so. She expected nothing less from him.
She tenderly smiled, “Well, let’s take her to the medical bay and fix up her leg. And we can get some food for the rest of you.”
“Yes please.” Meryl squeaked out, pressing her hands together in a prayer-like motion.
Ludia gestured down the hallway behind her, and they once again followed her. Along the way to the med bay, Bradd turned up. As soon as he saw Vash, he sighed, “What is it this time? Don’t tell me you wreck your arm again.”
Vash laughed at that, “Ha! Oh come on, give me some credit. It’s not like I go looking for trouble.”
“Yet it finds you all the same.” Bradd retorted, walking with them.
“Hey Bradd, I’m going to take Vash and Y/N to the medical wing, can you take the others to go get some food?” Ludia suggested, glancing over her shoulder.
Bradd shoved a hand into his pocket and relented. “I suppose. Come on, now.”
“Finally..” Wolfwood muttered out rather loudly causing Meryl to punch him in the side. “Hey!”
“Don’t be so rude!” Meryl lectured him.
“Will you two stop it?” Roberto interjected while the two of them began to bicker back and forth.
It was then that they turned down another path with Bradd as Ludia led Vash and Y/N down the same hall. Eventually, the three came across a metal door with a plus sign over the door, along with the words “Medical Bay” over the top. Ludia scanned her palm on the glowing panel beside the door and it opened.
“Go ahead and set her on the table, I’ll grab the sutures and needle.” Ludia instructed, stepping to the side, opening a drawer to look through its contents.
Vash did as Ludia asked, and carefully set Y/N down, maneuvering her in such a way as not to irritate her wound. Once Ludia found what she was looking for, she got to work. The task of disinfecting the multiple cuts around Y/N’s calf was grueling, albeit painful. As soon as the wet gauze made contact with the damaged skin, Y/N let out a hiss of discomfort, causing Ludia to utter out a quick apology.
It took several minutes, cleaning the dried blood, and sterilizing the injury itself taking up a good chunk of time. However, when it came down to the actual stitching of the wound, it went much quicker.
On the last stitch, Ludia finally spoke up, slightly startling the two. “So Vash, you want to tell me what else is going on.”
Vash perked up, surprised. “Oh! I should've guessed you’d be able to tell, Ludia. Actually, there is another reason we came here.”
He paused waiting for Ludia to respond, all she did was hummed, signaling for him to continue while she wrapped a clean bandage around Y/N’s leg.
Suddenly, Vash felt himself grow embarrassed, face glowing a bright red. “Well you see, I uh…m-me and Y/N were uh..together and we…” He trailed off, giving Ludia space to speak.
“‘Together’ how?”
“Romantically.” Y/N cut in, after seeing Vash struggle getting the words out. Though she didn’t blame him, she was feeling a bit sheepish too. Ludia acted as a guardian for Vash for decades so talking about this kind of stuff almost felt like telling your parents about a crush or when your partner meets your family for the first time.
Awkward.
The older woman tilted her head up in a slow nod while at the same time raising a brow in confusion.
Vash took a deep breath, steadying his nerves for what he was about to divulge. “Okay, to cut straight to the point; there’s a possibility that Y/N might be…pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” Ludia gawked, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.
Vash nodded, “Yeah. But I wanted to ask you to confirm that’s what’s going on because I’m not sure how possible it is for a human and plant to have children.”
“Me neither.” Ludia admitted without thinking.
She then watched Y/N frown, anxiety written all over her face, and Vash’s flesh arm wrapped around her shoulder to gently squeeze the space there to silently comfort her.
“But! Just because I don’t know doesn’t mean it’s not possible.” Ludia quickly corrected, “I can run some tests, confirm if Y/N is indeed pregnant and figure out if you two are compatible. For that I’ll need blood samples from both of you.”
“Of course.” Y/N agreed, reaching up to place her hand over Vash’s that sat on her shoulder.
“Thank you, Ludia.” Vash expressed, voice gentle and full of gratitude.
Ludia provided a tender smile, “No need to thank me, Vash. You know that whatever you need, you can just ask.”
From there, Y/N and Vash sat patiently, watching as Ludia gathered the supplies necessary for the blood samples. First, she turned to Y/N, asking her to hold her arm out while pulling out a small vial with a cap on the end of it, to protect the needle. Y/N did as she asked, raising her arm after pulling up her sleeve and watched as Ludia tied a rubber band around her bicep, wiped the area at the crevice of her arm then methodically pushed the needle into a vein. Immediately, blood began to seep into the tiny vial filling it up in only a minute or two.
Once done, she wiped off the area of the vein again then placed a band-aid over it.
Ludia repeated this procedure with Vash; taking out a fresh vial and collecting a sample of blood from him.
“There. All done.” the older woman stated, cleaning down the area and setting the samples aside. “Now, it’ll take a while to composite the results, but in the meantime I suggest you two get something to eat.”
“I appreciate this.” Vash expressed again.
Ludia shook her head, “It’s no problem at all.” She finally looked to Y/N, sensing the worry coming off her, “I know this might not make you feel better, but try not to worry. We have the technology to help you, no matter what’s going on and I promise we’ll help you.”
Y/N hesitantly nodded, giving a tight smile in return. “Thank you.”
Without much ceremony, Ludia took the samples and headed out of the medical bay, leaving Vash and Y/N alone.
Vash walked from Y/N’s side to stand fully in front of her. “How are you doing?”
Y/N shrugged thoughtfully, “I’m not sure. I guess I just don’t know what to think about all this.”
“What do you mean?” Vash gently probed, though prepared himself for the outcome that Y/N might not want to talk about it any further.
Y/N began to twiddle her fingers, chewing on her bottom lip, a nervous tick she always demonstrated when she felt overwhelmed. “I…uh..This is all so different than anything I’ve ever been through and we don’t even know if-”
She trailed off, falling into thought again. Her gaze drifted to the steel gray floor, eyes absentmindedly following every scuff and speck of dirt that laid across the material. “If I’m really pregnant.”
It was then that Vash saw it, clear as day; the yearning in her eyes. In his long life, Vash has seen many people, of all different lives and hardships, but one thing he’s seen that has remained constant; the paternal love and care of a mother. He didn’t know his birth mother per say but he knew some semblance of a mother’s care from Rem. She went above and beyond for him and his brother, and as he got used to life on No Man’s Land, he witnessed that kind of maternity still existed.
Vash also realized that he hadn’t asked or given much thought about how Y/N viewed being a mother, but now, her expression seemed to answer that on its own.
Still though, she was understandably worried and he wanted her to feel better.
“There’s something I’d like to show you, if that’s okay.” Vash abruptly suggested.
Y/N’s expression morphed into one of surprise then mellowed to acceptance, if perhaps a little confused. “Uh..sure. That’d be fine.”
“But we have to walk, soooo if you don’t mind, Mayfly?” Vash teased, extending his arms out, insinuating that he was going to carry her again.
She couldn’t help but let way to a grin as she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Vash’s neck. With ease, Vash slid his arms under Y/N’s legs and torso and pulled her to rest her cheek against his chest. He exited the medical bay and turned right as he walked out.
It took a few minutes, Vash getting flustered on the way there when he looked down to Y/N staring up at him and her admitting she was admiring him, but eventually they made it. Two giant steel doors slid back, and opened up, revealing the flourishing greenery housed under the glass dome.
Y/N had seen the greenhouse once before, but she hadn’t had the time to admire it as they had been in a hurry to leave. However, seeing it now without the rush, Y/N felt the tingling of excitement, a delightful shock that stirred butterflies in her stomach.
She observed all around, taking note of all the lush plants, what they were taught were called trees and flowers. If there was one place on this planet she would call paradise, it’d be this place, next to being in Vash’s arms that is.
Vash walked forward until the path split four ways, he turned slightly left, walking a few more feet and finally eased himself onto his knees near the patch of blue flowers. He lowered Y/N softly to the ground then sat down beside her, shoulders touching from sitting so close together.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” Vash breathed wistfully, admiring the flora around them.
Y/N hummed, “It is.”
There was a beat of silence, then two, then three until…“When I was growing up here, the last couple of decades at least, I’d come here when there was a lot on my mind and I couldn’t get anything straight.”
Y/N spared him a glance, watching his tender gaze trace over each flower.
He continued, “This place helped me to calm down, come back to myself and simply air out what I was thinking without any pressure.”
Vash reached over, using his flesh hand to carefully caress at one of the petals while in thought. “And I thought that this would be the perfect place to talk. Just you and me.”
“Talk about what?” Y/N asked curiously.
Vash finally looked at her, eyes full of unadulterated love and affection; the same way he always looked at her. “About having children together.”
Despite the day's events, Y/N sat frozen, side-lined by the sudden topic of discussion even though she had no reason to be surprised. Perhaps it was the abrupt way Vash was bringing it up or maybe it was because she hadn’t mentally prepared herself for the conversation at all.
Either way, it was happening now.
“I just realized that we never really talked about it and I thought we should talk about it now while we wait!” Vash spluttered out, his prosthetic hand coming up to rub the back of his neck bashfully.
A heat ran up into his neck and surfacing his face, painting his cheeks and his ears red.
He took a breath to settle his heart beat, “I think it’s time that I confess my feelings about the whole situation. And let me start out by saying, I absolutely want to have children with you, my love.”
“Seriously?” Y/N gawked, slack jawed and shocked.
Vash nodded confidently. “When you first told me that you might be pregnant, admittedly, I was scared. Scared because plants grow fast, and I have no idea what might happen to you; scared because I don’t know if I’ll even be a good father, never had one so I have nothing to compare to…”
He paused, flopping his hands into his lap, lost in thought for a moment. All the while, Y/N watched him intently, waiting in anticipation for him to continue.
“But I’ve been in love before either, and that’s been the best experience of my life so far. So if it’s you and me…” Vash reaches toward Y/N, grasping her hand into his own and intertwining their fingers together, savoring the radiating warmth from her skin touching his. “Then I believe that we can do anything as long as we’re together.”
Instantly, Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, a fluttering originating from her stomach then rising to her chest in a flurry of affection. She gave Vash’s hand a loving squeeze, shortly lying her other hand on top.
“Vash, I want to have children with you too. More than anything and while I am nervous, I want this.”
Vash sighed in relief, now realizing he had been holding his breath. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”
Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You’re right too, if we have each other, we can do or get through anything. We’ve gotten this far afterall.”
Vash leaned down, planting a kiss to her hair before resting his head on top of hers. “And then some.”
She hummed in agreement, taking a deep breath then heavily sighing, feeling her tightly wound nerves begin to relax under his touch.
The couple sat there for a good long while, silently, basking in the languid atmosphere created by their warm bodies and whispering sweet nothings here and there to fluster each other. Overall, it was a fifty-fifty success rate.
Though eventually, the huge metal doors opened and there they both spotted Ludia walking towards them.
For a moment, their comfort waned into a little unease.
At first, her expression seemed pensive, attempting to hold back whatever terrible string of sentences she was about to utter.
“I got the results back.” She spoke subtly.
Vash gulped fearfully, “And?”
Suddenly, she broke out in a grin, beaming with elation. “It seems that you two are compatible, more than compatible; it’s not like anything I’ve ever seen.”
Vash and Y/N traded glances, eyes wide and urgent. “Does this mean-?” Their eyes snapped back up to the older woman.
Ludia nodded, "Congratulations, Y/N. You are indeed pregnant.”
Vash and Y/N looked down to one another once more, simply staring, completely dumbfounded before erupting in the widest grins they could muster, and tearful laughs.
“I can’t believe it!” Y/N exclaimed, hugging Vash tightly, one hand cupping the back of his neck.
“I can’t either!” Vash laughed, a stream of tears already falling down his face as he snugly hugged her back. “We’re having a baby.”
Y/N began to sob, closing her eyes and sinking into Vash completely, into her home. “Thank you, Vash.”
Vash whimpered, hearing her grateful cry, “No, thank you, Mayfly.”
What would Vash, Wolfwood, and Knives do about sick reader? Like reader knew they had been getting sick for a few days but saying stuff like "I sneezed from the dusty sand" or "I choked on my spit. I wasn't coughing. " they keep coming up with stuff to say till they have a fever and collapse.
YES. MORE FOR KNIVES. I actually really enjoy writing for knives. He's such a complicated character to get right because he hates humans and more often than not the reader is portrayed as human. His feelings are so contradictory but I love it.
You're Only Human (After all)
SUMMARY: Vash, Wolfwood, and Naï, find out that you've been hiding a sickness from them. The outcome feels like a nightmare come true.
NOTES: Vash and knives parts are very long. There's a shit ton of angst but there's also hurt/comfort. I'd say it took me 16 hrs total from start to finish and that's partially because a huge part of Kives original part got deleted and yeah... I couldn't remember some of it. Enjoy tho lol.
⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝
Vash
Setting up camp for the night was no easy task, getting up to gather what everyone needs to sleep comfortably while helping Meryl set up her own tent. Yours always comes last and before you can even finish Roberto is asking you to help him cook. You never stop working and seize every opportunity to stay on your feet, the restlessness that comes with stagnancy kills you. Through constantly throwing yourself into work is painful and tiring, it's been even more so than usual.
"Hey kid. Come and help with this roast."
You ignore Roberto's request, too tired to even think straight much less give a coherent thought, only curling further into the backseat of the truck. In the back of your throat has settled an itch, one that's not quite there but prominent enough to make you force down a cough. It bubbles up suddenly, making you gasp for air in-between coughs. Your throat burns in pain and tenses as it stops.
Soft foot steps pad up to the open door. Meryl peeks in at you with worry before she fixes herself right. "Uh... Sorry if I'm bothering you but could you help me with my tent again?" She clasps her hands together, eagerly waiting for your answer.
Nick watches from the outside of his own tent, gazing at your still form while his hands blindly settle the cross firmly into the sand. He doesn't decide to speak until Meryl extends a hand to tap you. "I'll do it." He offers.
Meryl turns to look at him with a disgruntled smile. "Thanks?" He scoffs. "Yup. Don't mention it. And close the door while you're at it."
Meryl looks at your limp form, not wanting to close any limbs in the door she checks just to be sure before she carefully closes the door. Just before walking away she takes one last peek inside to see if she disturbed you but you haven't moved an inch. Taking a deep breath she turns to stand beside Nick while he puts her tent together.
The night carried on and with it came Vash. To everyone else the night went on as usual but to Vash, a part of him was missing. When he looked for your tent he was sad to find that it hadn't been set up at all. This only worried the blonde further. His stomach would churn with unease the further he looked around. There was no sign on you anywhere. Just as he was about to peek around the truck, a soft finger tapped his shoulder. He turned to find Meryl gazing up at him.
"If you're looking for them..." She points to the truck. "They've been there all evening."
Hia gaze follows her pointed finger to the backseat of the truck. Offering her thanks, he rushes over to the truck and pulls open the door. You lay curled up on the farthest side away from him, your face hidden and tucked away in your arms. Face softening, Vash climbs into the empty space by your feel and closes the door behind him, ensuring privacy.
"Mayfly?" He leans over curiously, his hand slipping under your chin to lift your face into view. You grimace, your head swimming in agony and dizziness. "Are you okay?" His cries crease in concern.
Lazily, you lift a hand to swat him away. Setting your head back on your arms he lifts the back of his hand to your forehead. "You feel hot. Maybe you should get out of the car. Get some fresh air." His hand brushes over your head in a soothing manner.
"I'm fine." He smiles at your half-hearted grumble.
"If you say so..." Swiftly grabbing your shoulder, Vash scoops you up into his arms with ease and scoots to press his back to the door. He spreads his legs and leans back just enough for you to lay comfortably on his chest. You're just lethargic enough that you flop against him, no resistance whatsoever.
He stayed with you until the morning, upset when he kept waking up to you practicing choking in your sleep. Every time he raises a hand to your forehead it burns his skin. You were certainly running a fever of some kind or at the very least sick, he's never seen you so lethargic before. You've always stayed on your feet, working yourself to the brink, till' your legs won't carry you anymore. This might just be one of those spells but you never left the truck. Even when he got out to help everyone pack up you didn't move.
When everyone gathered inside the truck, you didn't move, allowing yourself to get shoved around to make room for Wolfwood and Vash. As Vash climbed in, he scowled at the priest who shoved you about as if you were some object he could just discard. Gently scooping you far enough to slide in. he laid you back down in his lap and held you close, allowing you to get some rather comfortable rest. Hours later, you woke up in a daze. The heat consuming you from head to toe is unbearable, breathing comes harshly.
You can see legs moving through the sand below you as you wake up but very quickly realize they're not yours. You begin to feel hands under each of your knees and your body pressed against another. Below you, Vash's coat flaps into view, the edges of it tugging about with each step.
You groan, dizzy from the heat and disoriented. Your head is reeling about, begging to go back to sleep and crying at the same time. Every part of you aches and your throat feels like it's been grated like fine cheese.
"You're awake!" Vash turns his head to look at you nuzzled into his shoulder. Swallowing harshly, you lift your head to glance at him. "Where are we?"
You cringe at the sound of your own voice, sounding like a decrepit frog that smokes cigarettes. It feels like you haven't drank in forever and your stomach rumbles angrily. Suddenly Vash jumps to keep you up on his back, you whine at the sudden jolt and dig your hands into the chest of his shirt. He grimaces at your painful response.
"You okay?" Forcing yourself to right yourself, you begin to wriggle in his hold. "M' fine. Put me down."
Vash's brows creased with worry. "Are you sure? You've-"
Pushing from his hold you fall into the scorching sands. Hissing in pain, you jump to your feet jostling your brain into a wave of vertigo. Your hand shoots out to find purchase while your vision grows dark. Tingles flood your body as a low dull pain pulses in your head. Two arms scoop you up into security, keeping you from falling back into the hot sands. "Whoa!"
Vash steadies you as you lean against him limply for help. "Slow down. You're not well." His hands move to your shoulders. A long drawn out couch slips from your lips. You shake away from his hole to walk towards the group, they're way ahead of you occasionally glancing back to stop and wait. "I'm fine."
You trudge forward at your own discretion and Vash follows closely behind. "Let me carry you Mayfly." A hand comes to rest at the small of your back. Beneath you, your legs shake horribly, threatening to lose your balance. It's hard just to push forward in the sand without wincing from the sore ache that settles into your bones. "I'll be fine, Vash."
The desert becomes distant, a cold covering your whole body like ice. "I'm..." The sky began to darken, blotting out the light from the suns and the sand beneath you.
"oh!" Slipping forward, Vash stretches an arm over your chest to stop your falling body from collapsing in the sand. The over exertion is obvious and your body makes it hard to deny. Vash can see it clearly, the bleary look in your eyes as he scoops your bridal style in his arms. Gazing down at you with an unreadable expression, he shakes his head. "How long has this been going on?"
You roll your head into his chest, shielding your eyes from the suns. Breathing in to speak you choke out a cough, you can hardly catch a breath in-between. When you finish, your head falls back softly. "A few weeks ago." You mumble weakly.
A frown settles upon his lips as he looks ahead at the horizon, the glare on his shades stops you from seeing his eyes. Those are always a dead give away for how he's feeling. Those shades work wonders for him.
Taking a shaky breath, you relax in Vash's arms. "Don't worry. I'll take you to a doctor. You should rest until then."
You shake your head. "Won't you get tired of carrying me?"
He looks back down at you smiling softly. The smile reaches up to his eyes, softening his gaze and wrinkling the corners of his eyes. "I will. It's okay, I'm supposed to take care of you Mayfly. Just rest." His voice is so soft he's almost whispering. It makes a heat swirl in your chest as you close your eyes.
"I'm sorry Vash."
He chuckles. "It's alright my love."
Wolfwood
Sweat beads along your forehead as you follow the giant wandering cross in front of you. Your wavering pace slows you down even more the longer you push forward. It's so far away now. When was the last time you even had water? God, you can't remember. Trudging through the sands makes the ache in your already sore leg grow worse, you can barely lift your feet from the ground.
Breathing is a labor, it burns your lungs with each breath you take, the longer you go without calling for Nick's help the more dire this starts to become. The dull ache in your head is pounding with the intensity of the suns and your body grows weaker. You regret lying to Nick before he ran out of gas, you knew them you should have said something but the situation was bad enough. You thought saying something then would only cause more worry to settle in Nick's mind and you didn't want to burden him.
Suddenly, searing hot pain blossoms on your exposed skin and sand hugs your body as it lands. Your mind is foggy and blank, you watch Nick grow smaller in the distance not even bothering to look back at you. You rasp his name but your throat doesn't allow you to call any louder than a simple talking tone. After traveling with Nick everywhere, you never thought it would end like this, laying in the sand pathetically sick because of your irrational fear and Inability to ask for help.
Suddenly, in the distance. The space between you and Nick closes in. He runs towards you, tossing the cross all about on his back. Distantly you can hear him call your name for the first time ever, he's only ever called you by silly nicknames. You don't give much care to mutter a response and sink into the sand.
Panic squeezes in Nick's chest and he drops his cross beside him to tend to you. Grabbing your shoulders he turns you over and sits you up in his lap. "C'mon. Don't fall asleep." He begs.
You cough up a laugh. The concern in his face grows even more severe with your seeming obliviousness to the situation. "I'm fine..." You want to shrug him off so bad but even moving feels like hell.
Heart pounding in his chest, Nick swallows harshly "You haven't been fine since we got stranded, have you?" The back of his hand feels freezing as he presses it to your forehead. You grimace with discomfort and whine. "I'm not stupid." Carefully, he stands with you in his arms.
As he turns to walk away you spot his cross on the ground. "Your cross..." Nick acknowledges it with a hum. His face is stern, pointedly staring straight again with his lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll get it back later. You need medical attention first."
You smile. "So you're saying you care?"
His grip on you begins to tighten. *Of course I do! Don't fucking scare me like that again." He growls.
"Sure." Sleep tugs your eyes closed, pulling at your weight the less conscious you become. Nick glares down at you, squeezing you tighter against him. He feels your body grow limp in his arms, heart dropping to his stomach.
"What did I say? Don't fall asleep." You're jostled awake with a groan. "Just let me sleep. Please."
"And if you don't wake up again?" He's become eerily nonchalant. "What then?" The edge in his voice shakes with worry, tracing the thoughts of what might unfold after your death. His chest aches at the thought of losing you and he won't say it but he's scared of losing you. "It'll kill me..."
Nick will never admit it but you do more for him then he lets on. Your company alone could last him a lifetime, your smile, it could make him happy forever. Everything about you fixes everything bad about him and he's not ready to give that up. Especially not over some silly illness. Hearing his words and understanding what he means, you coo quietly and rest your hand over his heart. Your touch quells his fraying nerves.
"I drag you down Nico." Your heart weighs heavy in your chest. "It might be better if you leave me behind."
Stomach clenching wearily, Nick grunts. "No." Venoms laces his tongue. "You idiot. I love you too much to do that." You gaze at him in surprise. "Don't look at me like that. I said what I said. You should just be quiet and conserve your energy."
Hesitant, you gaze at him for a few moments longer before letting your head rest carefully against his chest. "I'll get you help. Just hang in there."
Millions Knives
Sitting beside Naï, he plays the piano. Quietly, you watch his fingers dance over the keys as they belt out a dramatic yet familiar melody. It strikes the soul as misunderstood, you know it well. Many times has Naï played this song in your presence. You've heard everything he plays, as his words command you stay by his side under his watchful eye. Many of his followers take this as a sign of mistrust, a show that the human race will never take his attention. Naï has said to you before: "Hear me and believe my word. My trust in you is not misguided, I only wish to protect you from those who wish to harm you."
Despite hating humans, Naï knows his fair share about the ways they operate. He understands the delicacy of your body and handles it with immense measure and meticulous care. He keeps you near to prevent his followers from making a move to take your life. For him, he even strives to understand more about you, to protect you. His care for you and your well-being runs deep, although Naï doesn't quite understand why it's you he's so careful about, he understands that you make him feel something.
Naï, even in his own strange way, shows that he cares for you. He appreciates the company you keep him and he's not foreign with thanking you. Just the same your appreciation runs deep, he offers you friendship, safety, food, and a place to lay your head at night. Above all else, his friendship and company you find the most rewarding, to know so much about him is to see under his facade. Knowing that underneath all of those sharp blades, a gentle, and caring man resides. Only sparing himself to his closet confidants.
Beautifully, the keys fade into an epilogue, an ending to the story it once opened with. You find that as you watch with a smile your lungs begin to burn. A cough tries to bubble its way past your lips, it takes your breath away and chokes you on the way out. Turning away to cover your mouth, you find it hard to catch your breath and tears blur your vision. The melody that had once carried through the room now falls silent in the stead of your sputtering.
Worry tingles in Naï's chest as you gasp for air beside him, he's unsure of what to do or what this is. His knowledge might be expansive but he still has so much to learn, about sickness, potential threats, the many causes of death. His lack of awareness makes his heart quell with concern and his mind reel is fear.
"Are you alright?" His voice carries through the harmonious room. Tentatively his hand hovers over your back.
You wipe the tears from your eyes to see his angelic face clearly. "It's okay Naï, just choked on my spit."
Cautiously, he looks you over with care checking for abnormalities along your external appearance. Your eyes are dark and lightly sunken, despite noticing this fast Naï goes along with your word and nods in earnest. You feel scrutinized under his gaze, like he's judging every part of you without ever saying a word.
"Choked?" He queries. "Is this choking, dangerous?" His brows crease with worry.
"Well..." Recalling gasping for air, the onslaught of coughing as it keeps you from breathing in deep enough to catch your breath makes you choose your next words with ease. "Yes. It can be, depending on the circumstances. But it can also be prevented"
Intensely focused, Naï nods. "How can this be prevented?" His absolute attention is always divulged onto you anytime you talk, it's endearing, the way he listens to every detail. Nothing you've said has ever been forgotten by him, he remembers everything, making it a point to bring it up when useful later on. It tells you that he cares about what you have to say, knowing that makes your heart soar.
"Drinking a glass of water, or anything of likeness, then there's the heimlich. You should ask Con'rad about that if you want to understand it." Although many of the things that Naï knows about humans have been acquired through you, there are many things you can't find the energy to explain. Best someone else with more knowledge explains it to avoid any confusion.
"I'll go visit him then." Naï stands. "Come. I'll escort you to the room." Gently, you hold his outstretched hand, letting it guide you to your feet. He holds it gingerly as he pulls you alongside him. His hand is soft and warm, inhumanely so, you find comfort in his warmth.
The more time chugs along the more you begin to realize you've fallen I'll, coughing spells out of nowhere, extreme fatigue, loss of appetite. The coughing grows worse with intensity, burning your sore throat, your body wastes energy faster, and waking up in the morning becomes a difficult task. For longer times you would lay in bed seeking the comfort of your companion, Naï, despite hiding your growing illness from him. He's buying into what you told him, though it won't last for very long. If he's really that worried he'll seek the knowledge of Con'rad once again.
He knows your habits even down to the smallest details, including your sleep schedule. Though sleep is the only time he lets you spend alone, that's only in his room, the only ones allowed inside are you and him. As far as his knowledge goes, since you last went in about a day ago, no one has bothered to enter. Not even Naï himself would go to see you. He figured you only needed a little alone time before you might come out again to grace him with your company. The time rolled around for you to come out but the door never opened, Naï waited in anticipation, trying to stace off the minutes to spare you time.
The paranoia got to him before you could.
The whole time you've been inside he's only let the door out of his sight once, for only a short amount of time. Very few people would dare enter knowing what punishment would await them if he ever found out but just the thought of someone going in and hurting you... It makes his blood boil. He paces just outside with worry and frustration beginning to build just beneath the surface. He has to know you're okay, he has to hear you speak... No. No, he needs something more... He has to see you physically. Otherwise, he might just lose his mind wondering what awaits him inside.
Eager to finally see your face again, to hear your voice and feel your touch, he pushes the door open. Eyes scouring the darkness for your form he finally spots you laying still beneath the covers of his bed, you make no sound as the door closes and you stay still even as he says your name. In his chest, his heart begins to pound wildly, sending the rest of his body into a frenzy of feelings.
He rushes to the bedside, a singular blade extending to turn the lights on. The darkness cowers away at the flick of a switch and your form is revealed amongst his mattress. Almost stripped bare of your clothes you lay unmoving, almost as if the life from inside you has been drained. Chest straining, Naï climbs over top of your body lowering his head to your chest, your skin feels cold against his ear as he listens for a heartbeat.
Just underneath your delicate skin beats the rhythm of your life, it beats on even as you lay utterly still. Naï can feel his shoulders relax, the sound of your heart telling him that you're indeed still alive, but as he pulls away to further examine you he knows something's not quite right. it makes his stomach churn with unease. Your skin tone seems off, like something's not quite the same as it was before.
As softly as he can, Naï shakes your body. After the first movement he expects you to come to life with a groan but you don't move. If your heart is still beating, why won't you wake up?
"My flower, wake up. You've slept long enough. I need your company by my side." He shakes you harder this time. "Petal, wake up. I demand it." He tries to sound like he normally does when addressing everyone else but he can't seem to find it in himself to truly yell at you, to demand something of you. Especially not when you're stripped of your freedom at this moment.
Naï's throat tightens, his brows creasing with worry and fear. He's so confused, you usually wake up when he calls for you but now he's got nothing. It scares him, knowing just how fragile you really are, it aside now that he rushes you to Con'rad.
Before he parts to the lab, he envelopes your exposed body in his cloak and carries you in his arms. Nothing like this takes more than the blink of an eye, Con'rad barely even has time to process his master's sudden appearance. Everything is thrust at him at once, the fear and confusion that riddles Naï's face when he presents you to Con'rad, how he begs for him to find out what's wrong, to fix you.
Con'rad frowns at your unconscious body as he takes you from his master's arms. "Careful! Don't hurt them." Naï warns.
Con'rad can only cast him a glance before he sets you down on a table, he collects his supplies needed to check you over and watches as Naï retracts the cloak that is wrapped so tightly around your body.
To plants, a decade is only supposed to feel like a day. So why did Naï feel like it had already been years when it was only minutes. He stared at you intently, waiting for you to wake up, willing you to do something. But you didn't move at all. Naï was anxious from tip to bottom, so to quell his nerves Con'rad began explaining things to him.
"Like we discussed, humans are susceptible to many things, illness being one of them. Should a person go an extended amount of time without medication or medical attention, it can cause death. This happens to be the case with your friend. You're lucky you found them when you did Knives. I can still run this IV to get the right fluids in check. After, you can take them back to your room, the IV has to stay in until it's empty though." He eyes the bleach blond from the corner of his eyes as he tapes the IV to your arm. "Again. You're lucky. They should recover soon. But they'll need plenty of rest."
Naï steps away from the wall he had leaned on, the blades slither out from behind his back and circle you carefully until they meld into his cloak once more. Content, he carefully picks you from the table with ease, using another metal appendage to grasp the IV bag.
"Thank you." Naï bows his head to Con'rad in thanks. Before he can reply Naï is gone again just as fast as he appeared.
Returning back to the privacy of his room, Naï gently sets you at the edge of the bed where he could rest the IV bag beside you. Leaving you swaddled in his cloak, Naï climbs up the bed behind you. For a moment he's hesitant to touch you, like it's the wrong thing to do but he pushes forward. Softly laying an arm over your waist, he pulls you flush against him, his face tucked into the back of your neck. He would lay here until you woke, until then, Naï would relish in the feeling of your body against his and find comfort in your presence by his side.
He might lecture you when you wake up, or inspect you thoroughly for any other sickness, but he also might enjoy your waking company for a moment before he does anything else.
And I know it's hard enough to love me (But I woke up in a safe house)
pairing: vash the stampede x fem!reader
warnings/tags: babygirl vash, Depressing Pillow Talk, slighty nsfw towards the end, sharing one bed trope, title taken from let's get married (MITSKI VERS)
word count: ~4.2k
“My husband and I would like a room,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around Vash’s and lean into him. You feel his body startle at your touch, his gaze on top of your head as you play the part of the excited bride. You think he might pass out on you if you don’t get him to room, and fast. “We’re on our honeymoon.”
“In this shithole of a town?” The innkeeper asks with a raised eyebrow, looking from you to Vash, who only lets out a sheepish chuckle as he scratches the back of his head. Despite his sluggish breaths, his slow blinking gaze, and the red slowly staining his shirt.
You shrug, trying hard not to be impatient. “There are worse places.”
There are. You’ve survived them. Compared to the slums of December or September, this shabby, worn inn is paradise.
“Yer right ‘bout that,” he laughs, acquiescing, as he tosses a ring of keys into your hand and takes your pouch of money. Vash is slumped into you now, and you can tell he’s trying his hardest not to place the full weight of his body on you. To anyone else, it would look as if he was clinging to you, the picture of a loving couple.
“Cheers to the happy couple!” the man calls out, tipping his hat down as the two of you move to the stairs in front of you.
Vash grins brightly, and manages a cheery, polite, “Thank you!” as the two of you pass.
You can’t resist the huff of a laugh that escapes your lips as you make your way up the stairs, and then into the small, modest dust lined room.
Vash collapses on the bed with a sharp exhale, and you immediately move to take off his shirt but his hand stops you by the wrist before you can.
“Sleep,” he murmurs, eyelashes fluttering. His fingers tightens, just imperceptibly, (even on the brink of sleep, he’s overly conscious about his strength, you think). In a way, it feels like he’s wordlessly imploring you to stay. “Jus’ need sleep. Not gonn’ take long.”
You blink. His fingers loosen, and in a few seconds his breathing has evened out into steady breaths. You’re relieved. He’s already stopped bleeding. From the months you’ve traveled with him, known him, he’s healed quickly enough that any other person wouldn’t understand. You still don’t. Not fully. But you’ve never asked questions. And as long as he never asked you any questions, that was fine with you.
You stay on the bed, by his side for a few minutes, watching him. You take off his sunglasses and put them on the nightstand after wiping the blood off them. He’s an unusually pretty man. Too pretty for No Man’s Land. You trace his face with your eyes. The beauty mark right under his right eye to his parted pink lips. Then down to the rise and fall of his chest to the plates of the cybernetic prosthesis of his left arm.
Lost technology. Not many people had access to that kind of technology. Or the knowledge to build that arm, let alone repair it.
Standing, you give him one last glance, reload your revolver and tuck it into the holster at your side, before you leave in search of medical supplies to patch him up when he wakes. You scope out the town while at it. It’s small; a handful of residents armed to the teeth with guns, and even less children. There are pipes that run through the town that you assume are fed fresh water by a nearby plant. You locate a medical shop at the center of town.
You buy antiseptic, gauze, and a few other things, before making your way back to the inn. The innkeeper gives you a wink.
When you open the door to the room, Vash is awake.
The sound of his harsh breathing fills the air. His metal hand fisted into the sheets so tightly you think it might tear. You meet his frantic gaze, and almost immediately, he slumps in relief, eyes dropping to his lap.
You quietly shut the door. “Nightmare?”
Sometimes, in his sleep, you hear him call out for a woman named Rem.
He lets out a loud laugh. You pretend not to notice the shaky undertone of it. “I slept for longer than I thought!” His metallic hand curls and unfurls, catching on the dull light of the room. “I thought you…” he trails off, suddenly embarrassed. He looks away.
“I brought supplies.” You place the bag on the table, next to Vash’s nickel revolver. You turn back to him: “Strip.”
His arms immediately make a cross on his chest, as if he’s already stripped, face bright red.
“I can do it myself—!”
Vash the Stampede. The humanoid Typhoon. The Sixty Billion Double Dollar Man. The man you originally only followed after to collect the criminals who swarmed to him, like flies to corpses. The man who leaves a trail of calamity and disaster in his wake. The man who continuously, everyday, without fail, begged you to leave the criminals you captured alive. A constant enigma and a headache. A walking contradiction.
“I’ll leave the room,” you say. “Don’t take too long.”
You leave the room, leaning against the wall, and wait two minutes.
You open the door, and Vash jumps with a yelp, stripped to the waist, arms covering whatever he can manage.
Scars cover his entire torso, running all the way down his flesh arm to his hand. Deep scars, shallow scars, scars that have never entirely healed, leaving the skin dark pink and the flesh caved in. There are more scars than there is unblemished skin, missing chunks of skin replaced with metal plates and seams.
It's not a pretty sight, but you’ve never much cared for pretty.
His face is flushed. “I thought—”
“I lied.”
“!?”
You shut the door with your heel, and then grab the gauze and antiseptic. “Turn around.”
Wordlessly, he turns, ears reddening. You direct him to sit on the bed, and then you begin to apply the antiseptic. The two of you sit in silence. You, disinfecting his fresh wounds and wrapping his back, while you also ignore the way his body tenses at your touch, his pointedly straight gaze, the constant bob of his throat, as if he’s looking for the right words to say.
He reluctantly speaks up. “You’re…not hurt, are you?”
“I’m fine,” you reply. Just a few scrapes and a bruised arm from where you had landed wrong after trying to dodge multiple rounds of bullets from the latest batch of criminals that had schemed to capture the humanoid typhoon. After hauling them to the police, Vash hiding away, you had gained yourself a hefty paycheck before being run out of the city, a bleeding Vash in tow.
You’re nearly done. The wounds aren’t nearly as severe as they had been only a couple of hours ago. The skin has healed enough that it’s already forming a scar. You don’t know much about Vash the Stampede, but you know enough to understand that he isn’t human. Not completely.
But he smiles. He laughs. He detests the very violence that nurtured you. He likes pizza and donuts. He’s moved to tears almost as easily as he seems to get hurt. He’s good with children. They trust him. Children love him in a way they don’t you: pulling him down to their height, climbing him, leading him and all his long limbs along. The way he takes their words seriously, nodding with all the gravity of a legal proceeding as they talk about the weather, their favorite foods, the silly argument they got into with a sibling. He smiles, and when he turns that smile onto you, it makes you think of everything warm and how you had forgotten what it meant to be happy.
He may not be human, but he is. Everything good about humanity that had been lost and forsaken when mankind crashed onto this unforgiving, harsh planet.
You pull away, resisting the urge to press your fingers down on his skin, to trace the map of his scars and feel him shudder underneath you. He’s as warm as a furnace. The heat of his body stays with you. “How do you feel?”
He beams at you, one hand on his upper arm as he swings his arm around. “Perfect!”
You sigh. “Don’t push yourself now. Let me finish wrapping you.”
He retreats back to his original position, still smiling, all reservations about his partial nudity forgotten as he waits for you to finish.
Vash speaks. “You didn’t kill them.”
You glance up. You can only partially see his expression from your position behind him, but the pull of his lips is unmistakable. He’s smiling. And you don’t need to look at him to see it. That sweet smile of his that pulls at his eyes and softens his entire face.
Your hands still. You hadn’t killed them. The Archie Brothers, the two brothers infamous for targeting banks and other commercial properties, who had gotten wind of Vash being in the city and emptied hundreds of rounds into the bar the two of you had momentarily settled in for a quick drink. It’s not as if you could’ve killed them in the first place. Vash was nothing if not easygoing, but keeping the criminals you turned in for a paycheck alive was the one thing he firmly enforced. Going as far to shield their bodies with his own.
He’s so troublesome sometimes.
You want to ask if he would’ve let you in the first place. If you had a choice.
You force yourself to wind the bandage over his arm. “You must be rubbing off on me.”
Vash turns, faster than you anticipate, eyes wide. You can see the pale irises of his eyes. He’s delighted. “Really!?”
You blink, staring at him in silence. He goes red, jerking back, scuttling backwards with his hands like a crab until he reaches the end of the bed and then air. He falls back first, legs raised up in the air.
He sits up with a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of his head. “I…I guess I got a little ahead of myself…”
“...pffft.”
He straightens just as you dissolve into full blown laughter. And when your laughter dies down he’s looking at you, eyes wide, like he’s seeing you for the first time. You clear your throat and look away, embarrassed. You don’t think you’ve ever laughed in front of him.
“...Something on my face?”
He jumps, frantically waving. “No, no. I just thought,” he hesitates. “You should laugh more.”
Something in your chest gives. You can’t stand it. Not when he looks at you like that. Eyes shining, lips curved softly, face animated like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered.
People like him aren’t supposed to survive No Man’s Land. They aren’t built to. But you’ve seen with your own eyes how capable Vash is. It didn’t take much to kill a man in these lawless lands, but you had never seen him miss his target. Your didn't need to take pride in your aim to know it was excellent. You just didn’t have the same consideration for criminals Vash did. A life or two wasn’t something you lost sleep over. Casualties happened. And if it was a criminal, then it was simply divine judgment.
You stand from the bed and walk towards the desk. You take a doughnut out of a brown paper bag and throw it to him.
“For me?” He exclaims, easily catching it, even though you had thrown it to him.
You don’t respond. He enthusiastically tears it in half, and offers you the bigger piece.
You shake your head, the quirk of your lips, fond. “I don’t like sweet things.”
“I see…” he says thoughtfully, as if he’s digesting the information. “That makes sense. You don’t normally eat…”
It strikes you that this is the most you’ve ever talked about yourself. You’re unusually talkative today, and he notices. You find that you don’t mind. It’s alarmingly easy to talk to him now.
In the handful of months you’ve been traveling together, you’ve learned that all the crimes attributed to him had been the work of his twin, a man called Million Knives. A man you had managed to steal a glimpse of only once before Vash had locked you in a closet before rushing away. You were still sore over that. Even though he retrieved you soon after, apologizing profusely, accepting your cold shoulder with grace. Until you couldn’t bear the way he trailed after you with a pathetically sad expression on his face, and told him to stop.
You never asked him for details. Of why his brother was terrorizing towns and cities, stealing plants and lives along the way. You’ve never pushed. You weren’t following the man to learn his life story. You were in it for the money.
Until one day, you realized he knew your exact bar order by heart. The kinds of alcohol you’d drink, and the kinds you wouldn’t touch. It was a small thing. But he looked so pleased when he placed the glass down, as he waited for you to drink it.
You knew his fear of you becoming potential collateral damage, but somewhere along the way you think you had grown on him. Somewhere along the nights listening to him cry out in his sleep for a woman named Rem, somewhere along watching the sliver of light heralding sunrise on the horizon together, somewhere in the silence in the dark of nights shared.
You think he’s grown on you too.
“Have you eaten?” He asks.
“Not hungry,” you reply, glancing out the window. Pitch black other than the glow of a single lone street lamp nearly a block down. “I’m going to sleep.” It wasn’t often you got to sleep on a bed, and you planned to make full use of it.
You go to the bathroom to wash up. When you walk out, Vash enters the room with a load of blankets. You look at him curiously.
“I asked the innkeeper for some blankets.” He laughs, recalling the conversation. “I said that my…” he trails off. “My…ah…wife…” Red paints his cheeks, and he looks away, raising the mound in his arms a bit higher to cover his face.
“...”
“...”
You watch as he makes his way to the other side of the room, keeping his gaze pointedly straight, and places the pile down.
“You’re sleeping on the floor?”
“That’s right!” Vash pats the floor a little too vigorously for your liking. “Just like usual!”
You look at the bed. It’s big enough for the two of you so you had assumed you’d be sharing it… You’ve never shared a bed together before, but you had no problems with it, not with Vash.
He darts into the bathroom quickly enough that you don’t have time to say anything else. You hear the water run, turn off the lights, and get underneath the covers.
Then you wait.
When he leaves the bathroom, he gingerly folds his red jacket and sets it down on the chair. You wait until he passes the bed to strike, grabbing him by the shirt, and hauling him down onto the bed.
He yelps, a surprised, high pitched, noise that tears out of his throat.
“We can share,” you say to him, his face inches apart from you. You can see his wide eyes, the bob of his throat working, pink lips parted as he stares at you, but your gaze is resolute.
And that’s that.
You figure that it might be easier for him to sleep if you aren’t facing him, so you turn to face the wall. You stare at the wall for ten minutes, waiting for him to settle into his side of the bed. Not even a faint rustle of the sheets. You wait a little longer. You can’t even hear him breathing.
You turn back around to face him and immediately he draws back even farther from his original position, on the tip of the bed where he’s precariously close to falling off.
A nervous chuckle. “I…”
“Sleep. I won’t say it again.” You study him, his slightly panicked expression, the grip of his metal hand fisted into the sheets. Oh. “Is it me?”
“N-nothing like that—!” He inches forward, just a little bit (still keeping his distance), puts his hand underneath the pillow, and squeezes his eyes tight. You watch him for a few seconds longer, specifically at the bead of sweat forming on the side of his temples. Your gaze drifts down, from the delicate slope of his nose to his lips.
You turn back around.
Silence settles in the room like a muffled blanket. You still can’t tell if he’s breathing or not, and for some reason, sleep doesn’t come to you as easily as it usually does. The bed is too soft.
You don’t know why you say it. Maybe it’s because you’re awake. Maybe it’s because you know Vash isn’t asleep.
“When I was a child, a plant saved me.”
A few heartbeats pass.
Vash’s voice is softly hesitant. It feels like something gentle and your stomach coils tight, as if in preparation for the inevitable recoil that always follows. “Were you sick?”
“I was.” The darkness reveals patterns in the wall, and your eyes go blurry with them. “The entire town was sick. Children were dying.” Religious fervor had taken ahold. Daily ritual acts of praying and calling out for salvation.
Taking you to your town’s plant when you were on the brink of death had been your mother’s first and final act of love. Afterwards, your mother often recounted in a drunken stupor that she was sure you were going to die. That it may have even been a mercy if you had. The plant cured you. Your mother was sure of it, the plant worshiping denizens of the town were sure of it. Nobody knew how. Nothing except for the fact that shortly after—
“The plant died the day after. I’ve never forgotten it.” You killed it. It was the first life you took.
It changed you. On a fundamental level. Something had happened to you on that day you can’t even remember. But that’s something you don’t think you can share. How sometimes, you don’t even need to dodge bullets.
That plant died, and now you are here, sharing a bed with a self proclaimed pacifist who refused to kill under any circumstances. A man who defied all logic and reasoning. A good man anyone would call misguided. A fool. An idealist.
In the end, lives would always demand sacrifice. It was either you, or them. It was kill, or be killed.
You don’t know what face he’s making behind you. Is he horrified to know that your life had ended before it started? That you were responsible for taking away the source of life for hundreds of people? That your existence was predicated on sacrifice and death before you even learned how to walk? You were at inherent odds with the idealism of pacifism. With him. Not out of choice, but because of circumstances out of your control.
Maybe a part of you wants him to hate you. Maybe a part of you is looking to be understood. But you thought that part of you had died long ago.
You shut your eyes, prepared to go to sleep.
Vash exhales. “I don’t…”
You open your eyes.
There’s a conviction in his voice you don’t understand. “You didn’t kill it.” You wonder how he can be so confident. “The plant saved you.” I know it did.
You face him once more. He’s closer than he was before, close enough to easily touch. “Sometimes,” you start, hating the way he’s smiling at you in a way that touches his eyes, framed in the pale moonlight. “You really make me mad.”
His jaw comically drops open. You watch as panic instantly overtakes his face until he realizes the lack of heat in your words. His lips push back together to form a pout. He says your name.
“Why is your brother stealing plants?”
Money. Power. Recognition. Those would seem to be the most likely answers, but you’ve seen the wreckage that Million Knives leaves in the wake of his destruction. It’s cruelty. It’s too calculated to be careless. It’s pure hatred. You can’t fathom a man like as Vash's brother. Twin brother.
But then that voice inside you speaks. Are you really any different?
Vash blinks, and then his face falls, gaze downcast. It feels odd to see him like this. You rarely catch him without a big, sheepish smile on his face nowadays, especially when he catches you looking at him, but you had seen him with a forlorn expression, shoulders slumped, in your early days of traveling together. When there were no children to demand a ride on his back, when the two of you momentarily passed an overcast shadow, in the darkness of the night when he thought nobody was looking.
You almost regret asking him in the first place. But he’s so close you can count his pale eyelashes, and you lose your train of thought.
“You could say it’s…” his mouth twists, “revenge.”
Revenge.
He’s not the first misanthrope in these lands. You think the occasional mass murderous thought, and you resist acting on it more often than you didn’t, the days before you met a blonde pacifist gunman. There’s only so much a human being can take.
You think of the kaleidoscope of scars that line his body. You only saw the ones on his upper body, but you don’t doubt the existence of countless others everywhere else.
It must’ve hurt. It must’ve been other people. People intent on capturing him. People who wanted to hurt him. You hate them all. Every single person that has permanently marked him a way that wasn’t theirs to do in the first place. You hate whoever severed his arm, whoever had repaid his kindness with violence.
Desire strikes you, hot and sudden. You want to count them all, trail your fingers over the heat of his body, the uneven layers of skin, and feel his breaths underneath you. You look at him, as his gaze lifts, remeeting your eyes, pleading for your understanding. Ball and chain to his brother. Shouldering the sins of family. You don’t understand it. Why he’s looking to you for acceptance, as if it’d even make a difference.
He is the only good thing in this harsh world, and you’ve found him.
“Maybe,” you tell him, as he hangs onto your every word. “We deserve it.”
You see the split second sadness weighing in his eyes, at your words, right before you curl your fingers into his shirt and pull him to your lips.
His eyes go wide, and something that sounds like a mixture of an exhale and gasp leaves his lips. You separate, your lips a hairbreadth away from his, as he stares at you.
“Is this okay?” You ask. If it wasn’t, you’d go back to sleep, and forget it ever happened in the first place. You made your move. It wasn’t reciprocated.
But then he nods, so vigorously that his blonde hair flops into his eyes.
You smile, and Vash lights up.
You kiss him again, drawing his face closer with your hand on his cheek. He complies with his entire body, closing the distance immediately, like if he can’t help himself. His lips are clumsy against yours, too eager, too desperate, wet and messy, as he pants into your mouth. Heat pools in your stomach, and you want more. You run your tongue over the seam of his lips, and he lets out a sigh of something that sounds reverently like your name against your mouth.
Then your tongue is in his mouth, and his flesh hand jumps. There’s a breathless, throaty whimper, the entire weight of his body pressing tight against you. So you can feel every part of him. How he’s willing to give you everything in the name of desire, of love. And when you pull away, his lips follow yours, spit slicked and swollen.
You easily lay him flat on his back as you move to straddle him. You kiss him again briefly, tenderly. Then you sit up and pull up his shirt, just enough to expose his torso. His metal fingers fist into the sheets when your finger goes to a scar of pink skin right about his hips, lightly following it to right below his chest.
He chokes with a shudder that wracks his body. You can feel him, heavy and hard pressing against you. The slight jump of his hips, barely restraining himself from rutting into you.
“It’s not…” Vash struggles with the words with heaving breaths, face bright red, embarrassment splayed out. He looks to the side. “A pretty sight.”
You think of heated irons and blistering pain. Thousands of blades slicing you open, needles penetrating flesh, blind white heat enveloping your body, and the mindless oblivion that would follow.
You realize you’ve been silent a beat too long when Vash looks like he’s preparing for your inevitable rejection.
“I’ve got scars too,” you say, finally. Quietly. You take his mechanical hand in yours and slowly slide him up underneath your shirt. “You want to see?”
a/n: Part 2 to ‘One step closer, we’re gonna be alright’ I dont think its as good as part one, but I still think its cute enjoy!
Vash x Reader
Meryl slams on the breaks with a shout, the movement forces you forward and awake. Vash’s arm shoots out catching you, you squeak out a quiet thanks as you settle back in the seat. Meryl shouts out a sorry, while everyone else grumbles about it. “Where’d you learn how to drive?” Wolfwood asks with a scoff, “Oh I’d like to see you do better!” Meryl shouts back
You laugh softly as the two continue to argue, a light chuckle beside you makes you glance over at Vash. Once you meet his blue eyes, he smiles at you and you blush hoping it's not noticeable. Your eyes widen, he’s not wearing his jacket which means. Turning your gaze downward, his red jacket sitting in your lap. Glancing back at Vash your words catch in your throat at the soft look he's giving you.
“Thank you.” you force the words out, hoping not to sound awkward you move to give his coat back, but his hands catch yours. “You looked cold, you can keep it for now.” your heart skips a beat and you think you forget to breathe. You just nod, pulling back slowly and laying the jacket out in your lap.
The car comes to an actual stop this time, it looks like you’ve finally arrived in some town. It was early morning, the suns barely peeking above the dunes. Vash leans over and opens your car door for you, blushing and nearly falling out of the car you thank him. Still gripping his jacket, you turn to give it to him, but Wolfwood gets his attention.
Well now, what are you supposed to do? Well, it's cold and you don't think he’ll mind as you slip the jacket on. It is still warm, and it smells just like him you smile to yourself. Rolling up the selves, you move to get your pack from the back Meryl is there and she raises a brow at you looking up and down. “He said I could borrow it!” you say jumping to your own defense, Meryl smirks at you, “I didn't even say anything.”
Blushing you snatch your pack from her hands, as she laughs. “Relax, I'm only teasing. Let's join the others, I'm sure they are waiting for us.” Meryl grabs you by the wrist and drags you into the inn's lobby. You spot Roberto speaking to the innkeeper, Wolfwood is nowhere in sight so he's probably having a smoke and then Vash is standing with the luggage.
He turns to greet the two of you, but you can see his eyes go a little wide when he looks at you. Meryl laughs softly dropping your wrist and joining Roberto's side, as you step closer to Vash. You blush when his gaze looks you up and down, he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out instead he places his hand over his mouth and you see him blush.
Your heart begins to race, you’ve never seen Vash look so flustered, and because of you? God this is too much, you begin to slip the jacket off a shoulder to give it back to him. Before you can Vash’s hands shoot out and grab you by the collar of his jacket pulling the sleeves back up, “You can wear it I don't mind.” he says this with a slight stutter, the two of you stare at each other both blushing until someone snaps their finger in front of Vash’s face.
It's Wolfwood and he's got a big grin on his face, you frown and Vash drops his arms so they hang back at his side. Wolfwood tosses something to which you catch, and hold up it's a key. “That’s the key to your guy's room.” Oh, wait. Your eyes widen as you look at Wolfwood, his grin only widens. “What?” you squeak out, hearing Vash ask the same question.
Wolfwood snatches the key out of your hands and holds it up between you and Vash, “The key to the room you are sharing.” he says it slowly, his tone playful. “The two of you were too busy making eyes at each other to discuss the rooming situation.” You reach up to snatch the key from him, but Wolfwood raises it higher. Vash can see you about to resort to violence so he snatches the key from Wolfwood instead. Vash grabs your wrist gently, and you feel your face flush. You were not going to survive the night.
Ignoring Wolfwoods loud laughter, Vash leads you away he's not saying anything but he also doesn’t let go of your wrist. Your heart is racing with each step bringing you towards the hotel room. Vash drops your wrist to unlock the door, and he opens it the door hinges sound impossibly loud. Vash lets you step into the room first and you let out a sigh of relief there are two beds (Lol you all thought). “Sorry about this.” confused by his sad tone, you turn to face Vash he is rubbing the back of his head nervously. “What do you have to be sorry about?” you ask carefully, he laughs you can tell it's not a real one.
“I’m sure you’d rather be sharing a room with someone else…” his voice trails off, and you frown did Vash not think you liked spending time with him or something? He looked so sad standing there, and so small without his coat. Feeling brave you step towards him you can't look him in the eye, but you can grab his flesh hand and give it a light squeeze. “Vash what made you think that?” you say it carefully, not wanting to scare him off, he makes a pained whine not looking at you either.
“You just don't seem very comfortable around me,” he says this with a sad chuckle
Oh
Of course, he would think that! It wasn't that you were uncomfortable around him it's just that you were so nervous, he was so sweet and kind, you loved his helpful nature and how he interacted with those around him, and he was just so handsome you couldn't bear to look at him for long. Hate seeing him so down on himself that you work up the courage to say your piece. “That’s not true! You make me nervous… but in a good way!” You drop his hand you grab the collar of his too-big jacket on you to hide your face in, “I just feel so flustered around you! And I feel like I'm just going to say or do something stupid.” You ramble, hoping to get your feelings across.
Vash laughs softly, “And here I thought I was just making a fool of myself.” he reaches for you, grabbing the lapels of his jacket, and pulls you to him, you let out a yelp when you collide with his chest. You can't see his face, but you can hear his heart beating wildly, “You make me nervous too.” you were going to faint, blushing bright red. One of his hands grasps your chin to turn it to look at him, his eyes are soft but have a playful tint to them. It makes your heart skip a beat.
“Am I making you nervous now?” oh what a little shit, he's teasing you and you hate how much it affects you. Your eyes drift over his face, not being able to meet his gaze and you watch him smile as your eyes settle on his lips. He chuckles and the noise makes you meet his eyes, “Yes.” you whine, this was all too much. Vash leans forward, and you close your eyes. He kisses your forehead gently a feather-like touch as he pulls back.
You force yourself to open your eyes to meet his gaze shyly, “Does this mean you like me?” you ask, Vash rubs the back of his head, and smiles sheepishly at you, “Yes, you like me too right.” He asks suddenly looking nervous, you want to laugh but you understand that Vash needs encouragement, “Yes, especially if you keep letting me borrow your coat.”
Vash wraps his arms around you carefully, you can see how excited he is but he still holding back. You know it’ll take both of you time to figure this whole thing out, but as nervous as you both were excited energy raced through your veins. You wrap your own arms around him, as he speaks softly “Deal.”
Inspired by @trigunwritings musings with a like-minded anon on his blog, I present to you some musings of my own.
NSFW Vash/Reader below the cut! GN! Reader, no specific pronouns used. Alien biology Vash, if you aren’t into that read at your own risk
“I’m so sorry!”
“You really don’t need to apologize, baby.”
It didn’t really matter how many times you’d insisted though, or tried to reassure him. Vash was still going to be embarrassed.
Because, in his mind, things had been going well. Really well. Well enough that in the only slightly cramped hotel bed the two of you were sharing for the night he’d somehow managed to get you laid out before him, your nude form bathed in silvery moonlight and your hair strewn out across the pillows. But instead of ravishing you like he’d intended, like he’d promised, face hot with blush as his lips pressed to the shell of your ear and he murmured all the dirty little things he couldn’t wait to do for you?
Instead of any of that, he was here, head bowed, kneeling at the far end of the bed from you, cock stubbornly refusing to stay hard.
You were most certainly not the issue in this equation. Vash had never done anything to make you doubt his attraction to you, even now. But Vash’s distinct and very touchy relationship with his own body image definitely decided to rear its ugly head at the worst possible times, fear prickling coldly in the back of his mind regardless of how badly he wanted to be intimate with you. Even now he was refusing to make eye contact, gaze glassy and posture slumped with palpable humiliation. In his mind everything had been going so well, and instead of letting him have one good thing, one little spark of safety and pleasure and joy, his stupid, weird, alien body decided to ruin it all for him again. He glared down at his lap, eyes burning, as if his frustration, embarrassment, and sheer force of will alone would be enough to draw his cock from where it was tucked safe away in the snug heat of his body.
You couldn’t help but frown. Not out of disappointment, mind you, but because Vash looked so damn fed up with himself that your bleeding heart couldn’t help but call out in response. You opened your arms to him, making grabby motions with your fingers.
“Come snuggle with me, Vash?” His gaze flickered up to your soft, hopeful expression, only darting away again when he realized he’d accidentally made eye contact. “Please?”
He nodded, so softly, and clambered forward into the space next to you on the bed. Immediately you were upon each other, a tangle of limbs as he curled his face into the crook of your neck and you pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. He moaned softly, the mere act of being within your arms bringing him tremendous relief. Your leg nudged in between his, pressing your thigh up against his crotch, a smear of slick warmth grazing across your knee as you nestled yourself closer. Even with his cock sheathed away like this, stubbornly refusing to stay hard for him or for you, there was an eager, wet warmth pulsing between his legs that demanded attention.
“This okay?” You murmured, pressing your thigh up against his pussy again and getting a shaky inhale in response. Hand finding the small of his back you urged him to roll his hips against you, giving him another soft kiss against the temple when he did, however shakily.
“Feels... Feels good.” He rumbled, breath hot on the jut of your collarbone. “But you’re not-?”
“Move your leg up. Right here.” You wriggled your other arm in between your sweaty bodies, patting the top of his thigh. He complied, shifting it upwards until his upper thigh was pinned between your legs, pressed hot and sturdy against your crotch. “Now move again.”
There was a little more confidence in his motion this time, a little more insistence. As he humped against your thigh his own leg shifted deliciously between yours, grinding up against you in a way that made your breath stutter in your chest. Vash moaned, wrapping both arms around your back and pulling you as tight against him as he could, pressing his body into yours at every point of contact, everywhere he could possibly reach.
“You’re so warm, Vash.” Every time his name passed your lips it was like a jolt ran through him, leaving him unable to stifle his soft, needy whines. “My good boy, so obedient for me, so pretty.”
“Mmmh... Again?” He pressed a wet kiss to your jawbone before pulling back, eyes not glassy with unshed tears now but with soft submission, a borderline desperation to have you tell him all the things that normally he wouldn’t be able to believe about himself. You kissed him; hot, open mouths meeting as his tongue found yours, sloppy and frantic.
“My pretty boy.” You mumbled between kisses, Vash refusing to fully let his lips leave your own as he chased your touch and your praise. “You just wanna make me feel good, right? Well this is perfect. Stay right here with me, Vash.”
“Yes.” He gasped, shuddering as his hips stuttered weakly along your thigh. “Yes, love you, j-just wanna feel you, please.” You felt slick and melty everywhere he touched you, his arousal smearing across your knee and Vash’s drool and tears wetting your face as he messily kissed you.
In a while you’d definitely want to have a discussion with Vash about how no matter how he was feeling about himself or his body, you would always be there to support him. That he could trust you not to be disappointed in him for struggling to accept his appearance, and that just like you knew you could rely on him, he could rely on you in turn. That you loved him, and that wasn’t going to suddenly stop just because he couldn’t fuck you the way he’d promised.
But for now you just needed Vash, and he needed you in turn. Whatever way that you could have him would be more than enough.
a/n: i’ve seen multiple drawings/hcs on uncanny vash so this is me mushing them all together sorry (this is slightly creature vash as well!)
- i feel like most uncanny vash hcs are more like.. creature vash hcs
- uncanny vash: okay he’s fucking creepy guys. his pupils like voids surrounded by a shining blue iris, they’re kind of always unfocused even as you talk to him. he chitters, chirps, clicks, its scary sometimes when you wake up and hear him in the middle of the night.
- uncanny vash hums too, but its always to himself. like an almost silent humming, just a soft sweet tune rumbling from his chest as he stares at nothing in particular.
- he doesn’t talk much, truthfully. relies on vague gestures or small chirps. usually when he talks its with you, but still it mostly consists of short sentences and phrases.
- a lil self indulged but he can unhinge his jaw, drop it and there’s rows of jagged teeth. and it makes you a little scared to be honest, like shit what he could bite my face off while kissing me if he wanted to.
- but of course he doesnt. he locks his jaw back and gives you a sweet, innocent smile, just showing his front row of teeth. and the duality is so unsettling you think about his rows and rows of sharp teeth while you kiss him
- first time sleeping next to him and you genuinely thought you were going to die. like you’re falling asleep, just barely conscious, and this deep rumbling sound starts. your eyes flashing open and your heart is beating out of your fucking chest, eyes darting around for the source.
- and it’s your fucking monster, creature, boyfriend—THING sleeping. vash’s long ass arms and legs wrapped around your body while he purrs and clicks right in your ear.
- for the first couple of days, honestly, you can’t sleep. cause its so fucking loud and right next to you. it takes a while, but you end up getting used to it to the point where you can’t sleep without his silly noises. and he’s just happy to be there, he has no clue he purrs in his sleep.
- i feel like maybe he forgets how fragile humans are and he sometimes handles you too roughly. like he’s playing with your fingers and he tries to move them in a way that is impossible for a human, and you have to tell him that you don’t like that and its bad. so he learns to handle you more gently.
- uncanny vash doesn’t… really understand love. at least not in the same way humans do, like he just does not get what kissing does or hand holding, he likes to express his love in very different forms.
- he likes keeping you close to him at all times. now im kinda projecting my “normal” vash hcs but hear me out. you’re like the shiny rock he found and he just keeps you in his pocket because mm so shiny, so pretty.
- he is very much possessive of his shiny rock indeed. keeping his abnormally large hand on your back or your neck (you had to introduce hand holding to him.)
- love bites are his thing! maybe not necessarily leaving marks, but the feeling of your flesh in between his very much dangerous teeth gives him butterflies!! please let him nibble on you
fem!reader, shameful masturbation, negative thoughts about masturbation, lowkey a lil breeding kink just a lil, negative post nut clarity emotions, vash is pent up and adorable
“i’ll see you tomorrow then,” vash whispers, leaning against the door frame of his room. his eyes are sleepy and soft as he speaks quietly with you in the empty hotel hallway.
after a long night of lingering touches under the table and drunkly stumbling over each other, having you here to himself brought him to another high. sure the alcohol is helping him, but standing here with you, still warm and bubbly, something is shifting inside him. he wants to run from it, yet capture it and swallow it whole.
“mhm, don’t sleep in too late. we’ve got business with the insurance girls tomorrow morning.” you remind him, yet you’re sure he didn’t forget. he was quite good at remembering and being on schedule. maybe it’s your pathetic excuse to stand here a little longer with him, so what?
“right yeah, of course,” and he flashes one of his sheepish yet charming smiles, except a little more nervous than usual. the same ones he had been giving you whenever he passed you another glass, but something seemed off about this one.
you can tell he’s still drunk, with the way he fiddles with the front of his shirt and the way his eyes seem to dash and skim over your face. like he’s not all focused or something’s distracting him..?
“okay w-well i better wash up now,” vash shifts on his feet, dress shoes clacking against the wooden floor. he can feel this coil of sensations unwrapping inside him. its starting to reveal something deeper. something embarrassing. it doesn’t help that his eyes are naturally drawn to your chest. he steps away from you and starts to close his door and somehow he reminds you of a deer in headlights.
“uh-“ you reach out, concerned, yet as soon as you do, he starts to close the door faster.
“yeah! goodnight to you too-“ vash shuts the door on himself. it feels rude to force you away from him, but that sensation is starting to spread to his legs, and he would much rather be out of your sight when his face starts reddening.
horrified and embarrassed, he shuts his eyes, in denial that he’s indulging in any of this. he leans his arm against the door and presses his eyes into his forearm. ever so slowly, his other hand runs down his stomach, over his belt, lower towards his crotch. biting his bottom lip, his shaky hand reaches to cup himself and- god, yeah. he’s rock hard in his pants.
“mmhg…” vash whimpers softly, he can feel himself throbbing against the tight fabric and its making him dizzy. all of his blood is rushing from his head and down his lower half. images of you from tonight flashes through your head; your dress riding up your thighs, your chest spilling out from the low v-neck, your red, flustered face he so dearly wished to see under him. it’s so humiliating yet he cant help the way he begins to roughly palm himself through his pants.
if you found out he was- if anyone found out what he did behind closed doors, the shame would be enough for him to pledge to never indulge in such selfish activities ever again. yet whenever he was finally alone after a night of being with you, he craved for you. his hands itched to touch you under your clothes, his dick jolted and throbbed at the mere thought of being inside you.
vash bites his lip, a pathetic attempt to hide his noises and soothe the tinge of shame. his hand rubs a little faster, his hips begin to grind along the pace, and vash realizes how fucking pent up he is. he can’t even remember the last time he touched himself. a month ago? a few months ago? god he doesn’t even know, but if he doesn’t cum his brains out at the thought of your dress hiking up your ass soon he might start crying.
vash is starting to drool a little on himself. instead of biting his lip to hide his sounds, he resorts to biting down on the fabric of his sleeve. but its useless because its rapidly soaking up his droll and now he’s imagining the wet folds of your pussy lips on his mouth and— oh god he’s moaning.
“a-ahh mmghf…” vash’s hips shuddering as he grinds into the palm of his hand, eyes rolling back whenever the leaking tip rubs against the tight fabric. god he can feel the wetness seeping through. he’s letting out little a-ah’s and mmh’s as he begins to lose himself.
it only makes him hump his hand faster when he starts to imagine cumming deep in your stomach, filling you up to the brim with his warm seed. he’s starting to twitch now, legs losing strength as his body begins caving in on himself. his blond hair falling over his shut eyes as he muffles his moans into his arm, sweat running down his face and soaking into his shirt. its so embarrassing, but he’s so close. just a little more…
vash presses his hand harder against his aching dick, gives one, two, three more rough strokes— and he’s gone. he bites down hard on his sleeve as his cock paints the inside of his pant leg with hot cum. his jaw dropped open as he shudders and groans. in a frenzy, his hand keeps on moving. pushing the last of the seed out as he pushes himself for more. his dick is softening and refusing, but he keeps on slowly rubbing the sensitive tip, imagining your wet tongue lapping up his spend before swallowing it.
vash gives himself a mere ten seconds to think about that soft, pretty mouth of yours again before he stops rubbing himself, instead wiping the sweat from his brow line. post nut clarity finally hitting him: ‘god i’m such a pervert.’ vash bites his lip as he relishes in the uncomfortable cooling of the cum in his pants. the sweat around his neck and underneath his shirt— and he feels like he needs to take a cold shower immediately.
but he doesn’t. maybe just for tonight he can keep on thinking of you. thinking about kissing you after you lick up the cum from his tip. maybe only for tonight he can do that. tomorrow morning when vash sees you again in the hall way, he’ll say good morning and you’ll say it back, and the thoughts from tonight will be shoved to the very back of his mind. he’ll forget about the way he visualized your curves under your dress and your mouth wrapped around his shaft. he’ll forget about all of this. no one will ever know what he does when he’s alone, hell, he’ll act like he doesn’t know either.
vash huffs as the disgust and shame finally pierce him deep in the gut. he wipes the sweat at his brow line and slumps against the door, sleepiness already making its way into his bones. but just as he settles against it, a weight on the other side door lifts off. vash stops breathing when he feels if. panic begins to sink in as he realizes how eager he was earlier. fuck. he didn’t even wait to hear you walk to your room before he started touching himself.
vash bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut as he finally does hear your footsteps retreating away. ‘god i’m such an idiot.’ he didn’t think the shame and embarrassment he felt could get any worse, but oh it can, and it did. vash kicks off the door, walking straight to the bathroom to strip and soak in a a cold bath.
he prayed that you would forget all about it in the morning.
