"Ghost" Trigun x reader

All is fair in Love and War

*TW/CW: Dub-con/non-con! (nothing too extreme )*

By the time the three men had exited the laboratory and the doors had closed behind them, you breathing had become so shallow you could barely feel your extremities or the sting of Knives' blades under your chin.

You had promised yourself you wouldn't bent or break no matter what torture they would put you through in this place. However, the idea that Knives would ever again punish you himself had never even crossed your mind since he considered it below him and since you had long ago learned to behave enough to avoid it after the first couple of times you'd experienced it all those decades ago. Indeed, there was something undeniably horrifying about Knives' methods; it was not only how meticulous he could be, but also mainly how only he could force your body to heal itself over and over again to keep the agonizing process going.

Your heart raced in your chest as you hurried to speak up, ignoring the sharp sting of the tip of his blades slightly cutting into your skin when you opened your mouth.

'Knives, wait! I never m-' You couldn't finish your sentence, as to your dismay, in a fraction of a second, the man dematerialized his blades to firmly grab your neck instead.

'Enough.' His voice was distant and composed, even if anger and a myriad of other emotions you couldn't quite make out were storming in the intense glare he kept on you.

He went to stand up, never letting go of his tight grip on your neck which made you panic for a brief moment as you scrambled to get your still weak legs to move and support you. But that was unnecessary, as Knives' wires circled your waist with their blunted blades and lifted you before retreating once more.

You instinctively grabbed on with both your hands to Knives' muscular forearm that held your neck, less in an attempt to have him let go since you knew all too well you could never overpower him, but more as a way to support yourself up as you had to stand on the tip of your toes to avoid being completely choked.

Did he enjoy seeing you struggle like this? What could he possibly be planning to do to you? Everything about the predatory look and aura that seeped off of him made you uneasy.

And you soon understood why when he angled his fingers on your neck in a way to force your face upwards, never releasing the pressure that made it impossible for you to properly breathe. As his grip had shifted, his fingers went past the collar of your suit and heated sparks spread on your lower jawline. Your lips parted in a vain attempt to take in more air at the sudden sensation, however that seemed like the single moment of weakened attention on him that Knives had needed to begin his assault upon you.

His lips crashed unto yours in an instant. Your eyes widened and met with his domineering ones, but before you even had the chance to try and communicate your consternation, Knives mercilessly claimed your mouth with his tongue. The all too sudden submerging wave of electric-like current spreading over your face and down your throat dizzied your already frantic mind. You closed your eyes, grabbing tighter onto the man's forearm as his rough and alacritous motions overwhelmed you, his anger and frustration with you clear in his every move. He wasn't leading or even dominating the kiss, no; he was harshly claiming your tongue, lips and mouth as his to do so as he pleased- to bully into numbness and even more if he so desired.

He paid no attention to you muffled moans and whimpers when pain mixed with the steadily growing desire inside of you. If anything, he seemed to enjoy those small cries and flinches he earned from you when he bit your lips too forcibly with his sharp canines and drew blood. He sucked and chewed on the wound as you winced at the metallic taste of your own blood mixing in with the dizzying sparks and heat flooding you. You tried to ignore the pressure building in your lower abdomen, hating how something inside of you still reacted so profoundly at any sign of affection from this wicked man. So instead, you tried to focus on the burning of your lungs, hoping the sensation would ground you enough not to let be swept away by Knives ever more insisting claims.