#maximum fluff??

[raepliica]

i think they should take turns cuddling for healing purposes

[pangur-and-grim]

Pangur is snug in her winter coat!

[bcksbarnes]

have i found you?

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: you and bucky are in the beginning stages of your relationship and get caught in a rainstorm

word count: 2.1K

the early stages of dating were always the most nerve wracking, and for bucky who hadn’t done any ounce of it in the last 80 years, it’s even more so. when you came into his life it felt like something had finally clicked into place again, like the world got a bit brighter, the fog that was there was starting to lift. 

now the problem he was having was translating those feelings into words. sure, you understood that he was more of a shower not a teller, but bucky wanted to push those boundaries for you. his therapist told him that part of growing is doing things that would make him uncomfortable; he never wanted to switch therapists faster in his life. 

but, he knew she was right.

you and bucky had decided to take things slow, even if there was no formal conversation stating that, both of you knew that it would be better in the long run to not rush into anything. you didn’t need him to open up about his past to get the idea of what had happened, you knew of his time as the winter soldier, there was no need to go into details so early on.

so most of your nights together were spent learning the song and dance of this new relationship, or whatever this was. 

despite his quiet nature, bucky was anything but a homebody. sitting still didn’t mix well with the instinct to always be on the run, and being alone meant that the thoughts that flooded his brain couldn’t be tuned out. no, bucky needed some background noise, not overstimulating, but the chatter of the people or the sound of cars passing by him to drown out the thoughts as best he could. for those reasons alone, he tried to take you out as much as possible.

your favorite thing to do together was to walk over the bridge from manhattan and into brooklyn, despite being terrified of how high up you were, bucky couldn’t imagine a better way to spend time together. it was intimate yet you were still surrounded by people. the views were stunning, and it always gave him an excuse to stop by his old neighborhood. even if so much had changed in the decades since he had lived there, he loved the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest when he got to show you his home. 

“it must be hard to come back,” you said to him one night as the two of you finished crossing the bridge, making the turn toward bucky’s old building.

his free hand was intertwined with yours, keeping you close to his side, as his metal one came up to rub at the back of his neck. you had a habit of seeing right through him.

“it can be,” he says, honestly. “everyone i know has passed away, and steve doesn’t like to visit here anymore, so it can be a little lonely.”

he doesn’t mention that you being there with him makes it feel less terrifying. his heart doesn’t sink as low as it used to, he doesn’t get choked up thinking of all he’s lost. no, instead he just squeezes your hand, needing to know that you’re right there next to him.

neither of you say anything when you pass his home, his expression is somber as he watches the family that lives there now in the window. it was different, new. he didn’t hate it, how could he hate such happiness? but sometimes he felt envious of the people who were able to continue on with their lives.

“i used to sit on that stoop and wait for steve to come over,” he said as the two of you started walking again. “i used to tell him that i’d just go to his place because he had asthma, the kid couldn’t run for shit.” bucky smirked as he thought back on the memory. “but he’d always tell me buck, i’ll be at your house. 3pm sharp. not a second later. he’d be wheezing his ass off but he was never late.”

the two of you laugh together at the thought, steve was once such a fragile being compared to how you knew him. that was the steve who was a brother to bucky.

bucky didn’t know how to explain that he hasn’t felt happiness since then, it was starting to get a little easier to smile and enjoy his life; but true happiness? jeez, he can’t even remember.

“you two seemed like you probably got into a lot of trouble.” you teased, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. 

“yeah, we did. steve really was just along for the ride, i was usually the one up to something.” there’s a smirk on his face that he can’t seem to wipe off as the two of you walk, turning onto the block of where his new apartment was. “one time i managed to get the fire hydrant opened when it was the middle of july, they wouldn't come to open the one on our block for some reason. flooded the whole street within seconds.” he chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. “steve tried to take the blame, as if anyone would believe that.”

“i bet you guys didn’t care if it was flooded.”

“not even a bit. i’d never been to a beach before so this was the only water i was around, we’d get a bunch of kids on the block, run around like it was the best damn time of our lives.”

it hits you square in the chest how much had been taken from him over this lifetime, and it was this moment where you made a promise to yourself that wherever this went between the two of you - you’d never let him look back and regret it.

“hope that wasn’t too sentimental for you.” bucky teased as his eyes trained over to you.

“no, no,” you reassure him with a smile when you meet his gaze. “i could listen to those stories all day. i like seeing how happy they make you.”

his chest bloomed with his feelings for you, it was moments like this where his tongue felt heavy in his mouth because he wanted to just spill his guts out to you and tell you everything on his mind. but, he still felt so lost. 

as the two of you get closer to his building, you notice the once blue sky starting to turn a dark grey - not the same kind as when the sunset, but when the heavens felt like they were going to open up. the air had shifted to something more still, less humid and with the few splats of drops that started to scatter around you, both you and bucky knew that you only had a few minutes to get to his place.

“let’s go,” bucky said. 

his hand tightened around yours as the two of you began to jog, trying to make it back in time. you were only about a block away before it started to come down, really come down. puddles started to form rapidly, each time you and bucky stepped into one it exacerbated how your already wet clothes clung to your bodies. a sigh of relief leaving his lips as he saw the door to his building was only a few steps away.

bucky’s hands were shaking as he reached into his pocket to grab his keys, the water getting into his eyes as he looked down. but, unexpectedly, the moment struck you. it was poetic in a way that this man standing next to you needed to live a new life, he needed to breathe. really breathe.

you don’t say anything as you turn away from him, walking towards the end of the sidewalk. the rain was coming down too hard for anyone to drive in, so you ran into the middle of the street. 

“wha-?”

bucky’s eyes were wide as he turned to look over his shoulder, watching you carefully. you stood with your head back tilted towards the sky, letting the rain cover you, cleanse you. stepping away from the door, bucky walked towards you, calling your name over the rain falling. 

“what the hell are you doing?” he asked, his hand moving to smooth over his wet locks. 

“i’m having the best damn time of my life!” you called back, your heart fluttering as you watched him. “join me!”

if bucky didn’t want you before, he definitely did now. his heart stammered in his chest as your words hit his ears, registering in his head. there was a moment of hesitation before he moved, not because he didn’t want to join you, but because you looked absolutely ethereal. angels would weep from the beauty in front of him, maybe that’s why it was raining. 

“you’re crazy!” bucky yells as he steps into the street, only taking a few strides until he’s in front of you.

the smile on your face can’t be wiped off now as you grab his hand and start running up and down the street together, like he used to do when he was a kid. bucky can’t believe his life had come full circle, and he can’t believe how hard he’s smiling, how much fun he’s having. it’s like you had planted a seed in his heart and it was now blossoming right out of his chest.

“it’s fun!” you called out to him as the two of you let go of each other’s hands, bucky’s fingers slipping out of yours as you ran ahead of him, leaving him in his place. “i want you to have fun!”

the world was spinning and rain didn’t let up. bucky was having such a good time watching you he didn’t even care how cold it felt on his skin, or how his metal arm tightened a bit when wet. no, there were no thoughts in his head that didn’t consist of you.

you’re standing right in the middle of the block again, bucky’s a little ways away from you with his hands on his hips. is this what it felt like to be free? he watched your frame, the way you weren’t afraid to take up space in this world, to let everyone know you were happy.

why should he hold back too?

he cupped his hands over the sides of his mouth as he called your name once more, getting your attention as the two of your gazes met. his smile widened and his heart fluttered, the need to tell you everything flooding him the way this rain flooded the streets. bucky had jogged over to you in an instant, his hands moving to cup your cheeks as he looked down at you.

“i like you,” he says loudly so you can hear it.

“what?” you call out to him; you heard him the first time, you just wanted to hear him say it again. 

“i said i like you!” he calls back out. “i like you so much. i think about you all the time. i don’t think i knew what living was before i met you.”

bucky doesn’t care that your hair is wet and swept over your face, he doesn’t care that both of you are slightly shivering now. he doesn’t care that he feels lighter now that he’s vocalized his feelings to you. all he cares about is that damn smile on your face, the way you grab the front of his wet shirt to pull him in closer, and the way your hearts seem to beat in sync.

the world seemed to stop as he brought his lips down to yours. your arms snake up to wrap around his neck, and he keeps a firm grasp on your cheek as the two of you let your lips take control of the moment. it’s soft yet deeply intimate, feeling him nip at your bottom lip a few times. bucky barnes was completely intoxicated by you.

and as the rain began to slow down, the world seemed to come back to life after the shower, and all you could do was slightly pull away from him, your lips still brushing against one anothers. bucky couldn’t help but chase your lips, needing a few more kisses from you at that moment.

“i like you too, buck,” you whispered against his lips. “more than you know.”

your hands slide up to wipe his hair off his damp forehead, your eyes now catching his bright blues. he chuckled quietly, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as goosebumps ran down his flesh arm.

“yeah?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “is that a promise?”

“yeah.” you grabbed the side of his neck as you pulled him in for a few more sweet kisses. “that’s a promise.”

and as the two of you moved inside to finally dry off, bucky knew his life had truly just begun.

[3ic95id864pg]

Trimax Vash [Twitter:@rtylenole]

[ruporas]

happiness today and tomorrow (ID in alt)

[c-hrona]

The Lovers. Edit: now is a gif too!!

[vashs-turtleneck]

Wrapped Up in You

Rating: G

Pairing: Vash the Stampede x Reader Summary: Vash stumbles back into your shared inn after a night of drinking, looking for your attention. Content: fluff, a hint of angst, yearning, alcohol, non-consensual cuddling, vomiting Word Count: 2.1k A/N: I haven't written in forever and I kinda hate this but if I don't post it now, I think I never will sooo

The hallway is dimly lit, a flickering overhead light casting shadows along the peeling walls, and Vash’s boots clack loudly against the old floorboards as he unceremoniously stumbles down the corridor, his unsteady steps betraying the extent of how much he’s had to drink this evening. The sound echoes in the otherwise quiet building–an old, somewhat shabby inn at the edge of town. It’s a temporary haven, a place to rest before he’s inevitably on the move again, and though the room may not be much, it’s become a small comfort.

He reaches the door to the room he shares with you, fumbling in his pockets for the key. It slips from his grasp a couple of times before he manages to unlock the door, grumbling something under his breath as he pushes it open, stepping in and swinging it shut with a soft thud behind him.

“I’m back!” Vash calls out, his voice a little louder than he means it to be. He kicks off his boots and shoves them aside, his eyes scanning the room. The warm light from the lamp casts a soft glow, but something is missing. He frowns, his brows furrowing. 

This isn’t right. Usually, you’re here, waiting for him, with that warm embrace and the gentle scolding that always follows his drunken returns. He may always be on the run, but having a person to come back to every night makes even the dingiest of hotels feel like home. 

But tonight? The room is eerily quiet. Too quiet. No greeting. No teasing. No reassuring voice telling him everything is okay.

A small wave of disappointment washes over him. He’d been looking forward to it—you—even the usual sighs of exasperation and tired mutters about how late he’s come back, how terribly drunk he is. But now, the silence makes the space feel even more hollow.

Quite frankly, he’s missing the hug he was expecting to get, and maybe even the scolding a little bit.

“Mayfly? You here?” Vash calls out again, and his voice carries a note of concern that he can’t quite mask.

Did you not come back? Are you still out? Maybe you went out for something, or just stepped out for a walk. But the longer he stands there, the more the quiet of the room settles in, uneasiness gnawing at him.

His mind races, and finally, he drags himself across the room, and luckily his eyes fall on you, finding you curled up in one of the two beds. Relief floods through him, feeling the tension melt from his shoulders, hazy sapphire eyes tracing over your peaceful form. He's happy to see you sleeping. You shouldn't be staying up waiting for him, especially considering how late it is, but the sentiment is quickly followed by a slight twinge of frustration, as selfish as he knows that is. If you were awake, he’d be getting the attention he craves. Hugs, scolding, anything, really. But instead, you’re asleep like an angel, depriving him of all the attention he’s been longing for.

How rude. He had a whole list of annoying drunk antics he was going to put you through, and now he has to settle for watching you sleep? What a cruel, cruel fate for the Humanoid Typhoon.

His eyes linger on your face, soft in the light, every detail etched into his memory, as if he could never forget the way your features softened in sleep. His gaze mindlessly falls on how your lips part slightly, like a subtle invitation, and he swallows hard.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t supposed to be something he could yearn for so deeply. You’re his friend, his closest companion, and yet, something about seeing you like this makes him want to reach out and hold you close and tell you things he’s never had the courage to say out loud, even when you’re wide awake and in front of him. But, of course, he doesn't. He just stands there, quietly aching, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest, afraid that if he ever did cross that line, your inevitable goodbye would hurt far worse than any other pain that could etch his flesh. 

He watches you, hesitating, unsure whether to poke your cheeks and wake you up just so that he can see that adorable, annoyed pout you do, or simply enjoy the sight a little longer, but the thought of being close to you, feeling the comfort of your presence, overpowers any rationality he usually has. He was expecting at least a hug when he got back, after all, and he's too far gone to think clearly.

With a quiet sigh, he sheds his coat, tossing it haphazardly onto the second, empty bed. He turns off the flickering lamp and lifts the blanket to slip beside you, careful not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He settles in behind you, curling around you with surprising tenderness and care for someone so drunk. As much as he loves the sound of your voice, your scolding might ruin his plans of snuggling up against you. His warm arm wraps around your middle, pulling you gently against him, and immediately the soft rise and fall of your chest calms him in a way all the alcohol from the night never could. The rhythmic softness of your breathing helps to clear his mind, like the haze from the booze is lifting, and he’s left with something more real, a warmth far greater than the feeling of whiskey burning his throat.

This is okay… isn't it? You two have cuddled a few times before. Albeit, it was more for preserving body heat out in the cold than it was for the mere closeness, but this room is awfully cold.

And he's plenty warm.

He can keep you warm.

His cheeks feel embarrassingly warm, that's for certain, and it's not just from all the booze. He tries to reassure himself, telling himself it’s fine. He’s just keeping you warm, but even his drunk brain knows that's not the whole truth.

He wants to be close to you, to hold onto this feeling, just a little longer. And so, with your steady breathing in his ear and the soft hum of the night surrounding him, Vash allows himself to relax. He's careful not to disturb you, but somehow, even in your sleep, you manage to snuggle closer, turning toward him, as if you're instinctively seeking him, or maybe you're just trying to warm up. Either way, he can’t help but smile at the way you nuzzle deeper into his chest, your face soft with sleep as his fingertips trace a delicate, absentminded pattern on your arm, each movement slower than the last, as if savoring the fleeting moment. He wonders if you realize just how much these small moments mean to him, how much he craves them. How, despite the teasing and the lighthearted distance he often keeps between you, this quiet closeness, this simple peace, feels like everything.

But the ache in his chest lingers, because even in this serenity, he knows things are more complicated than he lets on. How could they not be, when all he wants is to stay like this, knowing that tomorrow he’ll likely retreat into his usual joking demeanor, hiding everything that feels too fragile to say out loud?

Though before he can delve too much in the thought, you stir, and your voice, still heavy with sleep, breaks through the silence.

“Vash?”

He hums, his breath warm against your hair as he tightens his hold on you, like he’s anticipating you trying to pull away. “Mayfly~” he says in a cheerful sing-song tone that does little to hide the slurring of his words.

“Did you… pass out on me?” You mumble, half-dazed as you blink and try to focus your sleepy eyes, and seeing the tired look on your face brings a warmth to his cheeks that definitely isn’t from the alcohol.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, uh, take over your bed. Must've accidentally gotten into the wrong one,” he lies blatantly.

“Accidentally, huh?” You groan in response, but don’t pull away. “And what’s that smell? Did you bring the bar home with you?”

Oop. He might be in for a scolding after all. 

“I may have had a few too many.” He replies, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. 

“You say that every time,” you mumble. “You're not gonna throw up on me this time, right?”

Vash cringes. “Are you going to hold that against me forever, mayfly?”

“Yes.”

Fair, actually. He can’t really blame you for that one.

"You can scold me all you want later, but I just need a little more of this before you tell me off, okay?” He says. “Besides, you always end up forgiving me anyway.”

You pull the covers up a little higher, trying to ward off the chill of the evening. He wishes you’d snuggle up closer to him instead.

“I just worry about you, Vash,” you say, your tone softer than it was before. “Don't like it when you come back so late, or when you drink so much.”

Oh. 

He doesn't want you to worry about him. He doesn't deserve that much, but knowing that you do… Well, that does something to his heart that he wasn't anticipating.

He's way too drunk for this right now.

“...Sorry,” he whispers, his arm carefully tugging you closer, holding you delicately like it's an apology, a way to somehow make up for the distress he causes you even when he's not around.

“Well,” you mutter again, but this time, there’s something more affectionate behind it. “You're lucky you're cute.”

"Mmh?" His voice is more awake now, and he's incredibly thankful that you can't see the way his cheeks flush in the dark. "Cute, huh? Tell me more, mayfly. What about handsome? Dashing, even?"

You crack one eye open, sending him a sleepy glare. "Enough, or I might really throw you out of this bed."

Vash groans in mock frustration. "Fine, fine, geez. You're no fun sometimes.”

“It's 2am, Vash. I don't usually have fun at 2am,” You quip back at him, and if the exasperation in your tone is anything to go by, he's starting to get under your skin, something he was looking forward to when he got back this evening.

“Closer to 3am, actually,” Vash corrects you very matter-of-factly, and he knows you don't appreciate his smartass tone by how you're suddenly pinching and pulling his cheek.

“Yowch!! Ow ow okay okay sorry!” He exclaims, pulling the soft skin of his cheek out from between your fingers. “How about breakfast? I’ll buy us both something in the morning to make up for all the trouble."

“It’s your turn to buy breakfast anyway, dummy,” you murmur, your eyelids fluttering closed again. "How about next time, maybe less bar and more... water."

"Deal. I’ll be on my best behaviour from now on," he says back, his voice softer now as he tucks his head against yours, keeping you nice and close. 

You snort. “We'll see about that.”

Your presence wraps around him like a soft blanket, and for once, Vash lets himself sink into it completely. He can feel you against him, the steady comfort of being so close, and it feels like enough, knowing he does have someone waiting for him, wanting him to come back safe every night. The weight of the world, the uncertainty of the future, all seem distant now, and he can pretend things are simpler. Just for tonight, he can forget everything else and let the simplicity of this moment be his only reality.

Until a few minutes of silence pass between you two, and he suddenly feels his stomach churn… and the room spins a bit more than it should.

“M-May…fly,” Vash groans, his tone hoarse and pained.

Your head shoots up at that, no doubt recognizing that tone in his voice, taking in the funny look on your companion's face. He sees your eyes go wide, feels you suddenly try to pull away, but his arm stays firmly wrapped around you despite knowing he should really be letting go, using that superhuman strength to keep you there when he really shouldn't be.

Everyone likes having someone around when they're not feeling too good, after all.

“Vash. Vash, let go! No, please! Not on me! Not again please!!!”

divider source.

[featherfangart]

Whenever I'm alone with you You make me feel like I am whole again Whenever I'm alone with you You make me feel like I am young again

[fanficlibrary82]

Literal Hurt/Comfort

AN: I saw this post and had to write it or I'd go insane, so have my first attempt at writing the Merc with a Mouth; Soft Boyfriend Edition

Word Count: 912

CW: Mild language, night terror, hurt/comfort, this is a Worst!Wolverine x Deadpool, Rogue is the way she is in the movies

He was too late. Logan had finally managed to out drink his healing factor and stumbled back to the X-Mansion, only to find it littered with the bodies of his friends, his family. He walked the entire campus, trying, hoping to find a single living soul, but as the faces of Charles, Ororo, Hank, Scott, and Jean were found among the carnage, his flicker of hope began to fade. It wasn’t until he half heartedly pushed the door to Rogue’s room opened that his heart lept into his throat. He heard blood pumping, faintly, but it was there. Without a second thought he began to tear the room apart, looking for the girl, and he finally found her curled under the bed.

“Kid,” he slurred, tugging her out from under the bed and cradling her head in his lap. She was covered in blood, her body riddled with bullet wounds that oozed slowly, but she was alive. “K-kid, hey, ‘s gonna be alright, okay? You…you’re gonna be fine, we’ll get you to the city and-”

“You…left…us…” She rasped, eyes slowly finding his.

“I…I tried, kid, as soon as I heard the Professor, I-”

She took a gasping breath, the rattle in her voice an all too familiar sound to Logan. “You…you promised th-that you’d…take c-care of m…” 

Logan felt her body fall limp in his arms, but he didn’t let go, he couldn’t let her go. He pulled Rogue up against his chest, letting his forehead fall to hers. Her still-warm skin pulled a broken sob from his throat. He held her until her body grew stiff and cold. And that’s when the rage set in. He laid Rogue on top of the bed and made it a few steps into the hallway before his claws slid smoothly out of his knuckles. 

Logan let out an animalistic roar, foreign to even his own ears. He slashed everything in his path, from doors to portraits to tables, until he found himself in the Professor’s office. He stalked around the room, breath coming in short, heavy huffs that caused his chest to ache. He paused in front of a portrait of the first graduating class, their smiles wide, completely oblivious to the fate that awaits them. He snarls, slashing his claws through the canvas. If the humans think we’re just violent killers, then I’ll show them just how violent we can be.

Wade shot straight up as Logan screamed in his sleep and smacked him in the face. “Me H. Christ, Peanut, don’t scare me like that!” He gripped Logan’s arm and shook him roughly. Logan continued to cry out in his sleep, his arms beginning to flail wildly, as if fighting. Wade sat up on his knees, gently nudging Mary Puppins off of the bed. “Hey, big guy, watch that arm, you might hit-mother FUCKER!”

With a roar that was definitely more animal than man, Logan was sitting straight up, arms out, claws extended. He took a few heaving breaths as he whipped his head around the room in a panic. His eyes landed on his claws, knuckle deep into soft flesh and his expression fell. “N-no!”

Wade looks between the claws in his chest and the haunted expression on Logan's face before gently placing his hand over his unwilling attackers’. “You know, if you wanted to get inside me, all y'had to do was ask nice,” Wade teases.

Logan yanks his hand away from Wade's touch, retracting his claws and instantly covering the wounds with his hands. “No no no, fuck, no! Not again!” He exclaims.

Wade falls back against the bed and Logan follows, burying his face against the scarred skin. The older mutant’s shoulders shake and Wade tenses.

“Hey, hey, hey! Logan!” Wade pushes himself up onto his elbows and grabs at the other man’s shoulder. “Honey Badger, wake up, wake up, it's me!”

“I'm so fuckin’ sorry, I'm so sorry, god dammit,” Logan mutters, and Wade is hit with the awful realization that the Wolverine was lying across his chest and sobbing.

“Lo-James, look at me,” Wade manages to get his hands on either side of Logan's face and roughly yanks him up to meet his eye. “It's me, it's Wade, I'm okay, Peanut, look, look.” He slowly moves his hand over Logan's, gently guiding him to feel the skin that's already healed over. Logan's frantic gaze falls to Wade's chest and he smooths his hand across the surface, almost in a trance. “You're…you're not…?”

Wade shakes his head, gently rubbing his thumb across Logan's cheek. “Gonna take a lot more than that to kill me, Wolvie. You were in the Odyssey,” he replies with a soft chuckle.

Logan slowly comes out of his trance-like state, watery eyes finally meeting Wade's with clarity. “Wilson?”

Wade nods, relief flooding through his body when Logan looks at him rather than through him. “Hey, big guy, had me going for a minute there,” he nervously laughs.

“You're not…I didn't hurt you,” Logan breathes out shakily.

“Well…you didn't kill me,” Wade corrects, making Logan crack a smile. “Hurts like a bitch and a half, but at least I had you in me.”

Logan rolls his eyes and lets his head drop to Wade's chest. For a long while, the only sound is their combined breathing, so Wade dares to curl his fingers through Logan’s hair. When he hears no protest, Wade settles in, gently hugging him closer. “Don't worry, Lo. You're safe here.”

AN: Hey, I hope y'all liked it!!! Like I said, the idea came from the lovely @catgrandpa and the divider I used was made by @sweetmelodygraphics

[stefisdoingthings]

i think they deserve some happiness

[rennyrose]

I like how you draw Livio cuz you make him look like a cool dad

I think it would take a while for him to get used to it but™️™️™️ foster dad suits him quite nicely

[akiratrimochi]

#TRITOBER #TRI_TOBER

.

8. Angel

[2018-01-20]

dan heng truly is a one of a kind.

he brings surprise with him to every interaction you have—whether it be with his alarmingly blunt words or with his way too shameless actions. you don’t think he even knows what he’s doing to you and your poor heart.

like right now. he has your whole face and neck burning up with an uncontrollable amount of warmth without even trying.

“what’s wrong?” it’s evident in the way he pulls back with the most unbothered look that he has no idea of what he has just done. you can only hope that your own expression doesn’t look as flustered as you feel.

“why do you look so surprised?”

nevermind. of course this man speaks whatever is on his mind.

you have to take a deep breath before even trying to speak. “do you...” god—you can’t even continue without having to look away from dan heng’s heavy gaze. “...have any idea of what you just did?”

you know he probably doesn’t. but technically, neither do you.

it feels like a daze dream just remembering the way you were simply seated in your room, silently reading files himeko assigned you when dan heng decides to come up behind you unannounced.

and also decides to prop one hand on each side of your figure, calmly lean forward, and casually blow air on your ear to announce his presence.

it’s like you have a fever from the way his warm breath brought shivers trailing all the way to the back of your neck, your heart thudding hard against your chest as you had frantically jolted from the sudden action.

“i thought you knew i was here, but you were ignoring me,” he calmly replies. “didn’t you hear me knocking on the door?”

“i was busy...!” you turn back towards him, slightly annoyed in the way he acknowledges you with a raised eyebrow. “a-and focused on these papers!” you quickly motion towards the mentioned object that is now currently laying on your desk, fallen from your hands after you were shocked.

“oh.” is all he says. then, “anyway, march wanted to talk to you about going on an errand. that’s why i came here in the first place.”

really? he moves on just like that? you click your tongue, but your eyes definitely do not miss the way he quickly hides his lips behind a closed fist and a fake cough.

this sly, charming fucker. he’s amused.

“well...” you breathe out slow exhales, giving yourself a few seconds to calm down before continuing with a pretend, unbothered stance. “...march could’ve come here herself. i wouldn’t have minded talking to her here.”

“all i am to the astral express is a messenger,” he simply deadpans, and you can’t help but chuckle at his attempt of delivery for a joke. he watches as you finally get up and leave your room, still averting your gaze from him as you sigh and try not to think about what just happened.

but “i wanted to see you,” is left unsaid by dan heng, because he doesn’t know how you would react if he said something like that out of the blue.

probably cute and amusing, he thinks to himself. just like you did a few moments before.

[khys-treasure-box]

AN: Just got a friend of mine into Trigun, so it's been on my mind lately. By extension, my favorite functionally immortal alien dork is on the brain again! <3

CW: Fluff with a bit of angst mixed in. This is Vash after all, we can't go without just a tad bit of sadness, now can we? Similar to another post of mine, this isn't explicitly X Reader, but could totally be read as if it is! This is written more so with Stampede in mind, but I happen to believe this would go for any version of Vash.

Vash, as we all know, wears his heart on his sleeve; he's not really that good at hiding how he feels.

That being said, I think that very much extends to when he has a partner. Even if he tried, he just can't pretend that he's not positively enamored; it always shows. The pure adoration in his eyes when he looks at them, that dorky, almost boyish smile on his face whenever they're around, the way he practically follows them around like a puppy on an invisible leash... He's head over heels, and he, nor anyone else, can deny that. Of all the things he feels, the all-encompassing love he has for his beloved is absolutely not something he'd be tempted to brush off or explain away.

However, being so open about how deeply he loves them does simultaneously make him a bit fearful. He's Vash The Stampede, a man with a bounty worth an ungodly amount of double dollars on his head; a man with all sorts of dangerous folks following in his wake, just waiting for their chance to strike. By all accounts, anyone in Vash's company for extended periods of time would most certainly be in danger, and his partner would absolutely be no exception. In fact, it'd likely be worse for them. They'd likely be targeted to get to him. They could be harassed, they could be kidnapped, they could be killed. All for being by his side. It absolutely terrifies him.

If he's honest, his mind has drifted onto the thought of ending the relationship purely in hopes of ensuring their safety more than once or twice. Of course, he's never followed through on it because as soon as the thought has finished running through his head, he's already thinking about how upset his poor lover would be. He just doesn't have it in him to put them through that. Besides, it took him ages just to muster up the courage to allow himself to be with them. He can't let his worries, even as unfortunately rooted in reality as they were, ruin the relationship he'd just barely given himself the privilege to have.

In the end, all that worrying ends up circling right back into just how affectionate he is. Vash knows that every bit of time he has with them is precious, so he very much intends to make the absolute most of it! Any excuse he can get to hold his beloved, let them kiss him stupid (because let's be real here, he is absolutely the one to get kissed stupid in any relationship he's in), or really anything, so long as it's with them, is one he'll take unquestioningly. All of that is more valuable to him than he can even put into words.

Of course, if that means he has to take a bullet, or maybe a few, to protect them from some gang of knuckleheads after his bounty every once in a while, then he'll do it gladly. Besides, he's got his lovely partner to kiss him better when it's all over, so how could he possibly complain?

[3ic95id864pg]

Vash Angel Au [Twitter:@gem1ny]

[c-hrona]

A Surprise Gift!

After the events of the last comic, Vash and Nick receive a little gift from their best friends.

ID in Alt!