Trigun X You - Tumblr Posts

A/N: I HAD TO GET THIS OUT BEFORE I WENT TO BED, you get a quick lift from the gang. (I'm sorry if there's any errors, I wrote this and then got tired LOL) Vash x Reader, no pronouns used. Vash is a blushy mess.

Walking through the desert was a different kind of hell, the terrain was vast, empty, unforgiving. You were running dangerously low on water in your canteen, your desperate perspiration drenched your clothing and the pull of gravity made your steps feel ten times heavier. You could have sworn you were having hallucinations, the sound of a motor was heard, very distant, but enough to catch your attention. You turn toward the humming sound, in the distance a large vehicle could be seen, hastily making its way into your direction. 

“Thank God.” you throw your hands up into the air waving them from side to side in an attempt to get the driver’s attention. You knew it was a risk, asking for a ride from a stranger. But your critical thinking was at bay, mostly because you were severely dehydrated. And you knew you had somewhat of a fair chance of a possible escape. 

“They must have a death wish.” Roberto commented, referring to you miles away from them. Meryl squinted, you were barely visible but she was able to makeout a human’s form. A bead of sweat rolled down her brow, she couldn’t even imagine the possibility of walking around in such heat. 

“We should stop, maybe they need a ride.” Vash chimed, “Are you crazy needlehead? It might be another person trying to kill you.” Wolfwood quipped. Vash frowned, “Meryl, stop the car. I’m going to see if they’re alright.” Before Meryl could argue Vash was already halfway out of the car, hopping onto the dune you stood at. 

Wolfwood leaned over, you didn’t look very threatening, and he couldn’t help but enjoy the view. Cargo pants hung low at your hips, and your shirt was cropped and ill fitting. Way too tight to keep any weapons concealed. And was definitely enjoying the view of your exposed skin slick with sweat. 

“You need a ride?” Vash offered, a small smile at his lips. Your hand was placed above your brow, blocking the harsh light of the sun. “Please?” you smiled wide, the sting of your chapped lips more apparent. 

After your short introductions you trailed behind Vash approaching the door when the sound of Meryl’s voice stopped you both. 

“Vash, we don’t have any room, the car is full.” She furrowed her eyebrows in frustration, you could also hear the distrust in her voice, “I’m sorry, I really wish we could help but-” She was quickly cut off by Vash’s interjection. 

“It’s okay! They can sit in the middle. We can make room.” He motioned you to go in, you crawled into the cramped space to be met with another man beside you. A giant cross was wedged between his legs, “You weren’t kidding, there isn’t any room.” You acknowledged Meryl’s truth. Vash soon hopped in after you closing the door shut, any remaining space gone. 

“I have a better idea.” You moved yourself into the blond’s lap, he was obviously taken back by this, a small yelp leaving his mouth. He raised his hands upward innocently, trying not to make any inappropriate contact with his hands. Wolfwood grinned, slightly jealous, but mostly entertained with Vash’s innocent demeanor.

“Hold on tight, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.” Roberto warned, the car began its movement, quickly picking up speed. Every bump sent Vash’s thoughts somewhere else, somewhere not so innocent. Feeling the pressure of you in his lap caused a heat to rise to his already blushing cheeks.  Even though the air was warm, you closed your eyes enjoying the breeze fan over your face. You leaned forward, your back now arching against his lap placing your head further out of the window. His lips parted at the sight of your bare back in this position, his brows furrowed briefly before returning his attention elsewhere. This was going to be a long ride.

“Like this Vash?” you asked innocently, you were handling his gun farthest from correct but little did the outlaw know it was on purpose. 

“Not quite, just a little more like this-” He grabbed your hand from behind, placing it properly on his gun’s handle, his fingers curling over yours carefully squeezing the trigger. “More like this.” He spoke by your ear, his attention on the position of your hand. Catching him off guard you leaned against him, your back flushed against his chest. Vash’s eyes widened at the sudden intimacy, his cheeks flushed feeling the friction of your behind held firmly at the center of his waist. You held your concentration, shutting one eye and centering your aim at a stray can sitting on top of a wooden barrel. Pulling the trigger you shot a single golden bullet, hitting the can dead center forcefully knocking it off of the perch. 

“Oh.” he interjected, completely taken by surprise of your sudden skill. “I’m beginning to think you didn’t need my help after all.” 

“Can you show me how to use the “punisher”?” You look up at Wolfwood through your lashes, a flirtatious smile playing at your lips. He turned his head to the side, watching your finger drift down the base of the covered weapon, drawing circles along the way. 

“Big gun for a little thing like you.” He smirked, amused by your question. “You think you can handle it?” he peered down at you, his eyes drifting along the sight of your body. You picked up on his tone, knowing his question wasn’t really about the gun. 

“I can handle a lot more than you know.” 

He nodded appreciating your bold answer, making a mental note to take you up on that challenge later. Reaching forward he grabbed the cross from your wandering hand and set the hefty weapon in front of you now standing behind you. “How much do you know about weapons?” you shrugged at his query, “Not much, looks cool though.” 

“Well, it is cool.” He grabs your hand, placing it over the handle, showing you its mechanism. His movement is firm over yours, you feel the panels shift open, exposing the barrel of the gun. As he explains each part's function you begin backing yourself into him, your body flushed against his as he moves your hands to different parts of the cross.  A breathy laugh hits the back of your neck as you push up against him, his hips pushed forward letting you know he’s just as interested as you are. You felt a hand rest on your hip, Wolfwood leaning in to whisper, “I can teach you how to use something else too.”

In The Heat of The Night

A/N: Stemming from my previous fic and inspired by this text post I thought I'd write a lil something 18+ for the thirsty Vash fans out there, Vash x Reader, (no pronouns used), might continue/rewrite this with a bit more sm*t eventually. Summary: Vash's first bj, this IS this space cowboy's first time at the rodeo. Thank you @holydayaria for reading/editing. ♡

“Make a right here Meryl! There should be a nearby stop!” Vash called out from the back seat pointing a mechanical finger in the direction of the nearing town. As much as he unconsciously enjoyed the pleasant pressure of an attractive stranger's weight in his lap, his limbs were becoming increasingly sore by the second.

“Someone’s eager to get out of the car.” Wolfwood chuckled beside the blond, he could tell Vash was not only in physical pain, but obviously going through some sort of mental tug of war with what he assumed was his human taught chivalry and his instinctual libido. His dark brows were knit tight the entire car ride, his body ridged, his fists balled up against his sides, like a little kid who was put on time out. Each bump the car went over you bounced in his lap, earning a deep groan every time.

“A drink does sound nice.” you chimed, leaning yourself back against his chest. Vash flinched at your sudden movement, quickly moving his hands to grip the dusty cushions for stability. “Thank you for being such a comfortable seat.” you smiled, turning your head to the side glancing at him from your peripheral. His lips curled upward into a small smile, a droplet of sweat rolling down his brow. “Glad I could be of service.” He laughed breathlessly, rubbing the back of his head with his gloved hand.

To his relief, the truck finally came to a stop in front of a desert inn, you climbed out of the car first, Vash still close behind you holding the door open.

“Thank you for the ride, I would have been a goner without your help.” you turned toward him, bowing forward gratefully, “I’d love to buy a round of drinks for you before we part ways.”

Vash shook his head with a smile waving his hands in front of him in unison with his words, “No, no, you don’t have to do that! It’s the least we could do for a stranger in need.”

“I’d love a drink.” Wolfwood interjected as he hopped out of the car “Me too!” Meryl sang, following alongside Wolfwood, “What they said.” Roberto motioned his hand for you and Vash to follow along.

“I guess it turns out everyone wants a drink!” Vash sighed, raising his hands in defeat.

“Order whatever you’d like.” you reassured your new found saviors making your way over toward the inn’s bar. And after a few moments you all were presented with a frothy beverage in a wooden mug.

“You sure you don’t want anything, I owe you one.” You took a sip from your tankard before placing it to rest on the rustic table Vash was sat at. “You must be thirsty.” you pressed, taking a seat beside him.

He shook his head, “I’ll be alright.”

You raised a single brow taken back by his unusual answer, “Alright, suit yourself.” Before you could inquire about his odd behavior, Wolfwood joined the two of you at the table. “Thanks again for the booze.” He gestured his mug in a silent cheer toward you.

“It’s the least I could do.” You turned toward Vash with a small frown, “guess I’ll have to thank this guy another way.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Wolfwood responded, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket, nestling a stick into the side of his mouth.

A few moments later Meryl and Roberto joined the table carrying on their previous conversation that was held in the truck. As they spoke among themselves, you took this time to get to know your makeshift knight in shining armor, and grew more fond of him the more he shared. Wolfwood sat back and spectated your interaction with Vash, it was obvious to him you had quite the attraction to the outlaw.

“I’m going to get another drink, ‘you sure you don’t want anything?” you asked, standing up from your seat. “I’ll just take a glass of water please.” Vash caved to your polite persistence. The priest could swear on the mighty God above him he saw a twinkle in needlehead’s eyes when he gazed at you. He was clearly enamored by you as well, which was quite rare for him.

“Be careful needle noggin’.” The Punisher warned, his eyes still studying you as you approached the bar alone.

“What do you mean?” Vash asked, obviously confused by the implication of his comment.

“They’re obviously interested in you. Just make sure to use protection.” Wolfwood chuckled, picking up the carton of cigarettes off of the table, now standing from his seat “P-protection?!” Vash stammered, “I’ll leave you two alone.” Waved him off, exiting the bar. And before Vash knew it, Meryl and Roberto followed suit, taking their leave as well.

“Guys, where are you going?!”

“We are going to get a room! We might as well stay here for the night! See ya tomorrow!” Meryl waved before exiting the bar. Vash swallowed thickly, directing his attention back to you leaning against the bar awaiting your drink. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to pursue anything more than just a friendly conversation. But physically, he was very drawn to you, more so than he’s experienced with any other human before.

As you made your way back to the table you immediately noticed the empty chairs,“Where did your friends go?” you asked, “I hope I didn’t scare them away.”

“Oh no! Not at all,” he chuckled, humored by your worry but also, trying to soothe his anxiety of being left alone with you, “they went to get their own rooms. I guess we are staying here for the night.”

“Where do you plan on staying?” you asked curiously. He swallowed once more, his mouth dry, clearly struggling to retain his eye contact with your flirtatious gaze. He reached for his water, taking a small sip before replying, “I’m not too sure.” A way to thank him, you thought to yourself. And you weren’t opposed to spending more time with your newly found friend.

“I know you just met me but, you could stay the night with me? But only if you’re comfortable.” you placed your head in the palm of your hand trying to come off nonthreatening in the hopes he would say yes. His cheeks slowly began to flush pink, caught off guard by such an intimate offer. So cute, you thought to yourself.

“You sure?” he asked, you nodded, reassuring the desire of his presence.

“Thank you.” What have I gotten myself into?

After a bit more conversation you decide to call it a night, tired from today’s journey. Vash followed a safe distance behind you as you led him to the purchased room. “You sure you don’t mind me staying with you?” He asked hesitantly, still unsure of the situation.

“I trust you.” Vash’s shoulders relaxed at your comforting words, feeling slightly less tense about his intrusion. With an audible click the door opened, before Vash could make his way in you ran forward throwing yourself on top of the bed, sinking into the plush material with a content sigh.

“Sorry, it’s been so long since I’ve been on a bed this nice.” you apologized with a small laugh, Vash responded similarly. While you enjoyed the bed, he made himself comfortable, pulling free from his heavy red trench coat, leaving him in just his black poloneck and matching cargo pants. His eyes caught your gaze while you watched him unbuckle his gun’s holster. He looked back down, working at the metal buckle, “Sorry, I should have told you I had a gun.”

“It’s okay, I felt something hard when I was sitting in your lap and figured it was either a.) a gun or b.) you were just very happy to see me.” you smirked. A shiver went up his spine hearing your obscene joke, he didn’t know whether to laugh or be embarrassed about the possibility of it not being his gun to blame.

“Vash? You seem tense.” you sat up, resting your forearms behind you for leverage. “Why don’t you come lay down with me.” Vash glanced over at you for a brief moment and part of him wished he didn’t, your soft lips were now contorted into an attractive pout, narrowed eyes luring him like a siren’s call. “Ah, s-sure.” he agreed before he could think about what he was saying, pursing his lips into a thin line trying to keep the nervous shake in his voice hidden. After his struggle unbuckling the holster with nervous fingers he placed it alongside his other belongings, now approaching you from the bedside.

He sat on the edge of the mattress unsure of what to expect from the close proximity. That is until he felt your hands at his shoulders, kneading into the sore tendons. A small sigh left Vash who was enjoying the soft touch of your hands slowly working away the years of knots undone. “Relax,” you purred against his ear, the palm of your hand now flat against his chest pushing him to turn toward you, “I want to make you feel good.”

As Vash turned his torso you guided him back against the bed, positioning him to lay down beside you. He watched as you threw your leg over his, now straddling his hips. His hands fell down to your thighs squeezing the soft flesh gently feeling you roll your hips, trying to comfortably disperse your weight on top of him. His jaw clenched, his glasses slipping to the lower bridge of his nose as he looked down at your semi lewd position on top of him.

You leaned forward pulling the arm of the glasses upward, tucking them behind his ear to rest on top of his blond tresses. “You have beautiful eyes.” you smiled admiring his features that were mostly hidden behind his sunglasses.

“S-so do you.” He said breathlessly, internally cursing himself for being unable to make a coherent sentence. His thoughts were hazy, his brain busy trying to process what was going on. He was soon pulled out of those thoughts feeling your hand slip underneath his shirt, “What do you say about taking this off?” As you pulled the shirt further up you noticed the abundance of scars and protruding pieces of metal that were deeply engraved in his abdomen and chest. Your lips parted in shock at the gruesome sight.

“I’m sorry, this is embarrassing.” His cheeks flushed feeling the harsh sting of your scrutinizing gaze. “Can’t say I didn’t expect an outlaw to have a few battle scars. But I didn’t think it’d be ones like these.” You gently skimmed your hand over each scar, feeling the cool touch of the metal patchwork and seams over your fingertips. “You’re interesting Vash, one of a kind.” you smiled. His eyes widened at your response, one of a kind, he mulled your kind words over in his head.

As your hand drifted back down his abdomen, you felt each muscle twitch underneath your palm, nearing closer to his hips. “Have you ever been with anyone, Vash?” you whispered, placing a hand between his legs, palming his cock through the thick material of his pants. You watched his lips part, a soft moan escaping his lips. He finally processed your question, shaking his head no in response.

You were genuinely surprised by his answer, he hasn’t been with anyone else? But you were too consumed by lust to entertain the idea.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” you whispered against his neck placing soft kisses along his nape. You rested one hand against the opposite side of his neck, continuing to pleasure Vash through his clothing, his cock quickly hardening underneath your palm from the friction. With soft kisses and small licks you made your way down his abdomen before stopping right above his navel. You looked up at him through thick lashes searching his eyes for approval, he nodded granting you further access.

As you pulled his pants down you were soon greeted with his aroused length springing forward from the confines of his underwear. The tip was blushing red, weeping profusely, silently begging for attention. Before attending to his needs you pulled away, crossing your arms at the hem of your top, and as you pulled you at the fabric, you unveiled the sight of your bare chest for his display. Vash wasn’t sure if he should look away, but it was clear by your hand grasping his to touch you, you wanted him to acknowledge you.

“It’s time I give you my thanks. You know, for saving me and all.” you smiled innocently, but what you planned on gifting him for your gratitude was anything but. You repositioned yourself between his legs, refocusing your attention back on his cock. 

You pressed your soft lips against the sensitive skin before laying your tongue flat, gently licking along his slit. Vash’s head fell back onto the pillows, his gloved hand raking carefully through your hair, tugging at the strands with each bob of your head. Vash’s moans were rasped, desperate for his release. Feeling an unfamiliar tension build up inside of him, he threw his other arm above him hitting against the wood with an audible “clank”. His metal fingers curled around the delicate headboard in search of relief. 

“I feel, I feel, like-” his words were frantic, unsure of how to express this overwhelming sensation. Looking up at him, you could tell he was probably close to his climax. His brows were furrowed, the quiff of his hair stuck against his forehead now sticky with sweat, and his pale cheeks illuminated with a dark pink hue. It was enough to motivate you to begin your motions with a little more vigor, encouraging his oncoming orgasm. His hips bucked forward in response to your change of pace. His moans were now broken, uncontrollable. The cracking of wood could be heard between each whimper as he quickly claimed his release. Ropes of thick cum spurting down your throat. Vash winced, feeling his prosthetic grow hot against the flesh of his bicep, and before he could control it he formed a metal fist creating a hole in the headboard. He looked up in shock at his accident trying to regain control of his prosthesis.

“That’s never happened before, I guess I got too excited.” He practiced clenching his mechanical hand as his arm recalibrated.

“Maybe next time, we will keep our hands to ourselves.”

Scars

Summary: Scars to some are something to be proud of, a story that unfolds across flesh; but to others, scars are something to be hidden, something shameful and disgusting. But here is a man who thinks so lowly of himself, yet upon him is an artwork of peace and love.

Authors Notes: This is something I wrote a while ago but I think it's still good enough to post :) Hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Slight nudity, nsfw themes.

“Your scars,” she lightly grabbed Vash’s chin and let the pads of her fingers run along his jaw. Small nicks and lines of new flesh rested on his neck, the further down you went the more gruesome the injuries became. Fingernails lightly pressed into his soft skin; she wanted him to know she was here, alive and real—not some illusion or figment of his imagination, but a breathing being that found it in herself to worship the God before her; he didn’t believe he was worthy of such a title. He always ignored the praise, telling her that no God would look so terribly ugly. The mere thought that he saw himself as some monstrous creature made her heart hurt. She smiled and finished her sentence, “—tell a story.” 

He faced away from her, blonde hair damp from the shower he had taken moments before. “A story?” His voice was quiet, nervous. A lamb standing before a slaughterhouse. He was sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, hands gripping the sheets like his life depended on it. She knew that he didn’t like being vulnerable like this, shirtless and trapped in a room with a woman who always seemed to walk right past his walls and barriers, right into his very soul. He needed to know though, needed to realize how much she truly, utterly loved him.

She hummed, staring at his light blue eyes—they reminded her of humanity, of the good that rested in the world and all the people that rested under the skies, waiting for another day to arrive—as she smiled softly. She let her wall fall slowly, each brick cracking with determination. She had to let him see how she really felt, how every time she looked at him all she could see was beauty. Godly. Divine. A relic of some holy religion that has been long forgotten. “Do you want to know what these scars say?”

He turned his head and made eye contact, only to break it immediately. A light pink dust covered his cheeks, and from the way he kept trying to move away from her touch, she figured he would refuse her advances. She would accept his refusal, but it wouldn’t be any less disappointing. She wanted to get on her knees and pray, beg to be able to touch such a divine being—someone who, despite the horrors of the world around them, managed to keep a heart so pure and truthful. No human could do such a thing, he had to be something else, something completely heavenly. 

He found himself looking at a small dip in the wooden floor, memorizing the grain. His grip on the sheets tightened. She pulled her fingers back and let them hang by her sides. She should’ve known not to press too far—

He nodded. 

She paused.

He . . . agreed? She blinked and let a soft grin cover her face, heart pounding with both excitement and nervousness. This is it, she thought, this would be the moment she could show how much adoration laid within her bosom. “You can stop this story at any time,” she tilted her head and put her hands on his face, forcing him to look at her. The light pink of his skin changed into a deep red, slowly crawling down his neck. “I’ll always be here to recite this poem to you, so don’t worry about missing any of it. Don’t worry about pushing yourself. Okay?”

He nodded, fear seeping down into his very pores. She could tell that every part of him was screaming to run, hide away and cover himself; yet he carried on, and God, she wanted to cry from happiness. He was trying, he was starting to see himself from her eyes. He was starting to know how much she adored him. He was, despite the devilish terror that tormented him, pushing on. A soul so very brave yet so very paralyzed.

She traced her fingers down to his shoulder, where a large scar rested. He shivered as her touch moved across him so intimately. Knuckles brushing against the veins in his neck, making his blood roar and heart scream. “This one tells me of your bravery,” she slowly traced it and moved lower, towards his chest. She ignored the quiet, scared breaths, and the nervous twitches—what he needed right now was reassurance, a way to know that he isn’t a monster, but a God worthy of a devoted priestess. “And this one tells me of your kindness, compassion. How you care so deeply for others but ignore yourself. This one shows me how dedicated you are to your goal, your morals. How unshaking you are in the face of tragedy and pain—you know what you want and strive for it every day. Despite the hardships you face, you move on.” The pads of her fingers lightly caressed the scarred flesh, thumb rubbing circles. He bit his lip and opened his mouth, but she shushed him before he could speak any ill-words about himself.

“This one, oh, this one,” she leaned closer and tucked her face into the crook of his neck. He stiffened and let out a strangled breath, the tips of his ears burning red. She brought her fingers to his left arm, feeling the border between flesh and metal. “This one is important, do you know why?”

He was silent. 

“Because it shows that even in the pits of cruelty you manage to find a way to save, a way to choose the lesser evil—no, not even the lesser evil. You manage to find a way to avoid both and accomplish everything at once, you don’t take the devil’s offer, you forge your own path.” She pressed a light kiss to his neck. Her lips were cold against his warm, flushed skin.

“Mayfly,” he forced out, hands awkwardly hovering over her, not sure what they should do. “Please.” He wasn't sure if he was begging for her to stop or continue on; head dizzy with so much confusion and affection. How can she love me?

She kissed him again, slowly trailing down his shoulder. She took her time, pressing a kiss to each scar, uttering praises that would put any man in the grave from happiness. “Your scars tell me how you survive despite the pain. They tell me of how kind you are. They whisper about how you take on the world and suffer under the weight of it. They tell me of how you think you’re nothing more than a disgrace,” she pressed a kiss into the center of his chest, getting onto her knees between his legs. “But that is wrong, my Love.” He flushed bright red and snapped his head up to look at the roof, not able to find it in himself to look at her. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he saw her between his legs, uttering praise and kissing his flesh—the parts of him that he was so deeply ashamed of.

“You deserve kindness,” she kissed another scar, “compassion,” another, “love,” another, “and anything else you could dream of.” She grabbed his waist and slowly stood up, hands coming to a rest on his shoulders. “You think you are ugly, horrid,” she grabbed his chin and made him look her in the eyes. Tears glistened on his eyelashes, cheeks burning harshly with both adornment and embarrassment. “But you are nothing short of a God, nothing short of beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to be by your side, to feel your friendship and love. The world treats you unfairly, makes you think you are a demon, and I will not let those lies poison you, do you understand me?”

Silence sat in the room for a moment—thick with too many emotions to count.

Tears started to slip down his face. Abandoning all reservations he had, he grabbed her hands and pulled her forward, sending them both into the bed. Arms curled around her and pressed her body into his, warmth melding into a hearth of love. “What—” he managed to choke out, “what did I do to deserve you?” He shoved his face into her, overwhelmed with just how much he loved her.

“What didn’t you do?” she huffed and slowly ran her hands through his hair as he silently sobbed into her neck, “you’re a saint, Vash. If anything, God should’ve given you better gifts than me.”

“You’re the best thing I can think of. I wouldn’t trade you for anything,” his voice was weak and quiet, emotions pouring out of him so fast he couldn’t control them. He knew he'd be ashamed in the morning, cursing himself for being so open, but he couldn't help it. Love and safety were before him, tempting him with peace. How could he deny such a great thing?

She opened her mouth to argue but sighed in defeat. The night was about him, and she wouldn’t let her insecurities get in the way. “Even more than doughnuts?” She jokingly whispered to him, hoping to lighten the heavy mood that had overtaken the silence. He began to calm down, his sniffles fading from the room.

He paused and peeked his head out from under her, “that’s unfair.” 

She blinked and grinned, “are you saying you love doughnuts more than me?” 

He let out a strangled yelp. “No!” he shot up, dragging her into his lap and he pressed his back against the wall. “I just love them in a different way!” His hands came to settle on her waist, absentmindedly rubbing circles into her skin. Small tears ran down his cheeks, dripping off his chin into his lap. She wanted to catch each one and hold it close, making sure that every part of him was cared for.

She raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, nose pressing against his. “Can a doughnut do this?” She kissed just under his eye, wiping away his tears, before lightly tracing his bottom lip with her thumb. He shivered and tensed up, eyes focused solely on her.

“No,” he breathed out in a lengthy sigh. He glanced at her lips before meeting her gaze, face slowly heating up once again. He wanted to look away but something about her was pulling him in, making him face his fears.

“Or how about this?” She dragged her lips along his cheek before meeting his, tension snapping in the room all at once. He was gentle, nervous, as if the moment he gave into his desires she would wash away into the ocean of sand that rested outside the messy bedroom window. She pressed into him a little harder, slowly coaxing him out of his shell, and the moment he fully emerged, she drew away.

She pulled back and smiled at him. He hesitated a little, a small whine echoing out of the back of his throat. Her heart twisted hearing that sound leave him—she wanted to hear it again, and again. Such a sweet sound . . . something that made every nerve in her body ignite with excitement. “So, do I win? Am I better than a doughnut?”

He gripped her hips and pouted, “much better. Can we finish that kiss now?” He wiped his eyes on his shoulder, rubbing the rest of his tears away. He glanced down at her chest before trailing back up to her crimson eyes, which held so much love and affection he had to turn away before he became overwhelmed. 

Badum, badum, badum. When had his heart started beating so fast? It felt as if the winds of the desert had settled into his chest, roaring to be let out, to be free once again.

“Only if you beg.”

He thought for a moment, only a moment, and decided that he was in too deep—might as well finish the play? Right? The show must go on. Besides, maybe she'd give him something more. So, without even a moment’s hesitation he purred out a “please, love~” He tossed his head back and whined, “Please! Just one kiss, please. One?”

He blinked in shock at the sound of his own voice, so high-pitched and needy, and promptly screwed his eyes shut from embarrassment. He gripped his lover a little tighter, hoping she'd let him off the hook easily. Though, he supposed he wouldn't mind if she was—no! He shook his head and huffed. Don't think about that. He wasn't going to ruin this precious moment with his. . . unsightly desires.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and shook her head happily, “I didn’t expect you to actually do it.” She snickered and lightly nibbled on his ear.

He turned an even darker shade of red.

“I’ll do anything you say," he mumbled into her neck and wrapped his legs around her. He wanted her impossibly close—to meld into one, to be one.

“Love yourself then. Accept that you’re wonderful and deserve every good thing life has to offer.”

He pouted and pressed his nose into her cheek, “fine, but I’m getting another kiss.”

She hummed, “alright. Deal."