#is it obvious that my adderall wore off | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queerlykat · 3 years ago

Note

for the bnha prompts, could I ask for bakukami with 27 (did you just say you love me?), 28 (I didn’t know you could be romantic), 29 (you’ve never kissed anyone before?), or 30 (I notice when you stare at my lips) thanks!

Ahhhh yes!!!! Sorry it took so long to get to but holy fuck was this fun to write, though I may have gone a little overboard considering the other ones have all been under 1k words so... oops.

I hope you like it!

Anyway, here it is! And I'll be posting it to AO3 soon as well.

Word Count: 1,703

Genre: Fluff

Prompts: 28. "Wow, I didn't know you could be so romantic." | 29. "You've seriously never kissed anyone before?" | 30. "I notice when you stare at my lips, you know."

"Oi, dunceface, I'm not an idiot, you know - I fuckin' notice when you're just starin' at my lips and not actually paying attention and if you're not gonna take this seriously, I -"

"Sorry!" Denki interrupted in a squeak, a red flush spreading across his face. "I - uh - Fuck, sorry," he repeated when Katsuki set him with a murderous glare.

That glare softened and shifted to something not quite as furious after a moment, more contemplative than anything. A few long seconds passed before Katsuki sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "You didn't take your Adderall today, did you?"

"Heh - it's that obvious?" Denki asked sheepishly, grimacing as he looked down to stare at the corner of his textbook.

"Well you sure as shit ain't paying attention to the stuff you're supposed to be," Katsuki scoffed, reaching over Denki to slam the book closed. "We'll study tomorrow when you can actually fucking focus."

"Sorry, man, I was trying - really," Denki rushed to say, but only got a disbelieving look in reply as Katsuki grabbed the pen and notebook that belonged to him and stuffed them in his bag. "No, seriously, dude. It's just hard to when my brain won't slow down and let me process shit and then I guess I just kinda... check out? 'Cause I know I won't understand it anyways and then when you were leaning over you got really close and I noticed that you actually have really nice lips which... sounds really creepy now that I've said it out loud. Fuck. I didn't - uh - mean it like that. 'S not like I want to kiss you or anything. Er, well, not that I wouldn't or don't want to but I uh -" Denki swallowed hard as he realized just how deep of a hole he had talked himself into, face burning red as he buried his face in his hands, "I'm shutting up now."

Katsuki huffed wordlessly and Denki heard him zipping up his bag. The lack of response quickly ate away at Denki's nerves and he was lifting his head to start speaking again when Katsuki cut him off.

"So? Which one is it?"

Denki tilted his head at his friend, "What...?"

Red eyes pinned Denki to the spot with the sort of intense shine to them that was usually reserved for extreme challenges; the same faux-confident look Katsuki wore before taking on something he wasn't actually sure he'd succeed at.

Katsuki took in a deep breath, rolling his eyes and glancing away as he let that breath out in an annoyed huff. "You keep givin' mixed fucking signals, dumbass. So I'm asking, do wanna fucking kiss me or not?"

Denki felt his jaw drop open at the sudden blunt question, eyes going wide as his ever-racing thoughts screeched to a halt and all he could think about suddenly was how adorable Katsuki looked in the moment. Anyone else would think he looked pissed, but Denki knew Katsuki well enough to know that the particular scowl on his face was one of uncertainty and not anger. Not to mention the red flush across his cheeks and how he was glaring directly at a spot on the table, refusing to look at Denki.

He was nervous and that was just,

"So cute."

The words tumbled out of Denki's mouth in an awed whisper and he didn't even realize he had said them out loud until those red eyes flicked towards him, going wide for a moment before narrowing back into a seemingly angry glare.

"That's not an answer, you idiot!" Katsuki shouted, that red flush on his cheeks spreading over the rest of his features all the way down his neck and up to his ears. "And I ain't askin' again, so -"

"Yes!" Denki blurted out as his mind caught up to the situation all at once - along with the added urgency that this may be his only chance.

There was a split-second hesitation that seemed to last for hours, freezing Denki to the spot before a hand was grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him forward.

Flailing for balance, Denki barely managed to grab onto Katsuki as their lips collided with bruising force and ow, that actually hurt.

A small whimper came from Denki at the rough treatment, followed closely by a muffled shout of surprise when he felt Katsuki's tongue soothe over the sore spot on his lip. Katsuki took that as an invitation to slip his tongue into Denki's mouth, momentarily sliding over Denki's before pulling away completely.

"Fuck," Denki mumbled in a shaky exhale, still gripping onto Katsuki's biceps and staring dazedly at the spit-slick lips he'd just been kissing. "That was... wow. Um," he cleared his throat, head still spinning, "Didn't - uh - didn't expect my first kiss to be like that. Guess I should've since it's - it was y'know, with you and -"

"Wait," Katsuki interrupted roughly, "You've seriously never kissed anyone before? The fuck?"

Denki felt his face go hot, undoubtedly a bright shade of red, and he couldn't help but drop his forehead against Katsuki's shoulder to hide. "Y-yeah," he mumbled, face burning even hotter when he heard Katsuki laugh. "Shut up!" he whined.

"Nah, don't think I'm gonna," Katsuki teased, though Denki couldn't help but relax a little when he felt a pair of warm hands land on the curve of his waist and pull him closer. "Wish I woulda known, though, wouldn't have done it like that if I knew it was gonna be your first kiss," he snorted.

At first, Denki couldn't help but grumble in protest at the continued teasing before an absolutely genius idea lit up his brain. "Well, uh, what - what would've you done if - if you knew?" he asked, tilting his head to look shyly up at Katsuki even as a small, mischievous smile tugged at his lips. "You could... show me, if you want," he suggested, idly tracing patterns against one of Katsuki's arms.

A soft, albeit amused scoff came from Katsuki as he rolled his eyes. "Well I woulda taken you out first," he said before pausing a moment, glancing off to the side again, "If you - uh - if you'd want that."

There was no way Denki could stop the grin that spread across his face at the implication that Katsuki actually wanted to date him. "Yes!" he gasped excitedly. "I mean - um - yeah. Yeah, I'd... I think I'd like that," he added with a sheepish chuckle when he realized how desperate he must've sounded.

The warm, soft laugh that came from Katsuki flooded Denki's stomach with butterflies, chest swelling with pride at managing to get such a genuine laugh from the other. "Yeah. Well. I'd do that."

"And then?" Denki prodded.

"What'd'ya think, dunceface?" Katsuki snorted, "I'd walk ya to your door 'nd kiss you there. Y'know. All proper and shit."

"Hmm," Denki hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head so he could look at Katsuki better, "Okay, but that still doesn't tell me how you'd kiss me. Just... when and where. And I dunno about you, but I really think a demonstration would be the best way to explain it."

"Of course you do," Katsuki scoffed, but Denki didn't miss the way Katsuki's cheeks flushed a little.

"Well?" Denki asked, lifting his head from Katsuki's shoulder, "Are you gonna or not?"

He got another eyeroll in response, before those red eyes focused on him again all sharp and intense in a way that never failed to make it hard for Denki to breathe. He felt one of Katsuki's hands trail up his side and over his shoulder before the backs of Katsuki's knuckles were lightly brushing over his cheek.

As if Denki wasn't already struggling to breathe, the way those gorgeous red eyes softened their gaze and dropped to stare at his lips made him completely forget how to breathe at all. He found himself leaning in, guided by the hand now cupping his cheek, until he was close enough for their noses to brush.

"Can I kiss you?" Katsuki asked, all soft with only a hint of his usual gruffness.

If it weren't for how hard Denki's heart was pounding, he would've worried that it may have already melted into nothing more than a pile of goo. The same couldn't be said for his brain, though, which Denki was almost certain had long since turned to soup.

Which made it rather difficult for Denki to formulate any coherent words, let alone verbalize them so, instead, he nodded his consent.

A small smile graced Katsuki's lips for a mere second before he was tilting his head and pressing their lips together with a gentleness that Denki didn't think Katsuki was even capable of.

"Wow," Denki breathed shakily when Katsuki pulled away, feeling even more dazed than after the first kiss. "I didn't know you could be so romantic," he mumbled, barely even realizing he had said that out loud.

"Hah?!" Katsuki huffed offendedly, "The fuck is that supposed to mean? Didn't think I'd be a good boyfriend or somethin'?"

"What?" Denki gasped, eyes going wide at Katsuki. "No, I - w-wait. Wait, did - does - are we - boyfriends?" he stammered when he fully realized what Katsuki said.

"You agreed to go on a date with me, dumbass, so yeah," Katsuki scoffed even as he shoved Denki away - much more gently than normal, Denki noticed. "Meet me in front of the dorms Friday night at 6 'nd I'll take you to the carnival or something," Katsuki said, walking to the door. "And don't be late!" he added roughly as he left, slamming the door shut behind him.

Still trying to get his brain to catch up with everything that just happened, Denki found himself staring blankly at the door for several long moments before it finally, fully sunk in.

He had a boyfriend.

And that boyfriend was Katsuki.

"Holy shit," Denki whispered to himself, a grin slowly spreading across his face as giddy excitement bubbled up inside of him and spilled over in the form of incredulous laughter.

For the rest of the day, Denki couldn't stop smiling even when it started to hurt and he's never looked forward to a Friday more in his life.

#bakukami #bakudenki #katsudenki #katsukami #kaminari denki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #kaminari #denki

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amandaoftherosemire · 6 years ago

Text

IDGAF -- One-Shot

Fandom: Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6539

Format: One-Shot

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff

Summary: Standing in line for coffee, cursing the ex-boyfriend who won’t leave you alone, you lay eyes on Bucky Barnes for the first time.

A/N: I started to write this months ago because my darling @hellzzzbelle was having a hard day and I wanted to make her feel better. Unfortunately, once I got half-way through I couldn’t get it out of my brain and onto the page. Once my long fic was out of the way, however, this was one of the first things I finished. I figure this is another opportunity to make “Better Late Than Never” the tagline of my life. I hope y’all like it, especially you, peach.

As you stood in line for coffee, you glared down at your phone in disbelief.

I don’t know why you’re being so childish about this.

“Oh, fuck you and everyone who looks like you, James.” You were muttering under your breath and figured no one in the coffee shop could hear you but to your surprise, the giant in front of you turned around.

“I beg your pardon?”

When you'd gotten in line, the part of your brain that has nothing to do but search for eye candy had noted the man in front of you with approval. Tall and broad, the muscles of his back, shoulders, and arms stretched the long-sleeved t-shirt he wore in all sorts of fascinating ways. A tight ass and thick thighs only added to the allure. You'd been too involved in cursing James six ways to Sunday to pay close attention when you came in, but you couldn't help but think if the face matched the body, he'd be downright lethal. You’d been looking for a new coffee spot since your ex ruined your previous haunt and you were pretty sure you’d found the one if guys this hot hung out there.

As your eyes climbed up from your phone into ice-blue eyes set in a face carved by gods to drive mortals crazy, you realized you were absolutely correct. Lethal.

The man was just plain beautiful. His dark brown hair was pulled back into a stubby ponytail with a few loose locks falling to frame his pretty face. His jawline and cheekbones were sharp enough to cut glass, but his lips were plump and full and looked soft enough to sleep on. His eyes, though, were bright and amused as they caught and held yours.

You realized you'd been staring when that gorgeous mouth quirked up at the corner.

"I'm sorry," you stammered out. "Text message pissed me off."

"Ah." He nodded with a smile. "My given name's James, so I thought you were talking to me for a second." His voice was low and warm and sent shivers down your spine.

Desperate to keep him talking, you asked the first thing that came to mind. "Given name?"

He smiled wider and you had to fight the whimper that wanted to escape your mouth. "Most people call me Bucky."

You stuffed your phone in your back pocket and held out your hand to shake. James could go fuck himself. You had much, much bigger, hotter fish to fry. "Nice to meet you, Bucky. I'm y/n."

Bucky took your hand in his and the feel of his callused palm against yours was delicious. You'd never met a man more physically magnetic than this one, so when he held your hand a little longer than necessary, it made your heart beat faster at the thought that he might be as interested in you as you were in him.

"Pleasure's mine," he rumbled. "How'd James piss you off? If you don't mind me asking."

You laughed, a little breathlessly and you hoped he didn't hear it. "Have you ever been dumped and then had the asshole try to come crawling back?"

"Can't say that I have," he replied with grin.

"It's both immensely satisfying and incredibly irritating." You were grinning back at him, neither of you noticing that the man behind the counter was waiting on Bucky.

The 40ish woman behind you, who'd been eavesdropping and was thoroughly enjoying the meet-cute happening right in front of her, leaned around you and said to Bucky, "If it was your turn, handsome, what would you do?"

Bucky blushed and you thought it might be the cutest damn thing you'd ever seen. Seeing a man this big, this muscled, this gorgeous so sweetly embarrassed was devastating. As he turned around to speak to the barista about his order, you turned to the woman behind you and rolled your eyes as you mock swooned. She grinned back at you and murmured almost inaudibly, "Get it, girl. Do it for all of us.”

You stepped forward when Bucky moved down the counter towards the pick-up window, though he appeared to be taking his time. You hoped it was because of you, but you couldn't believe a man this unbelievably attractive would genuinely be interested.

Except when you pulled out your wallet to pay, the barista smiled and jerked his head towards Bucky, who was acting like he wasn’t listening. “Already taken care of.” You shrugged and stuffed a couple ones in the tip jar before moving to stand next to the gorgeous creature that had just bought your coffee.

“Thank you,” you said with a shy and quiet smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Consider it an apology from the Jameses of the world.” Bucky was hunching his shoulders a little and his face was going pink. The sight of this big, beautiful man smiling so shyly made your heart sigh a little and you damned the thing for being so easily wooed.

“I’d rather consider it a present from my new friend Bucky.” You didn’t know who was more surprised at the flirtatious words coming out of your mouth, you or Bucky, but his face flamed just as you felt your own cheeks heat.

Bucky, who was cursing himself for ordering ahead to save time, picked up the three drink carriers on the counter in front of him as he replied, his expression pleased. “I like that better, too.” You were astonished to see him balance them with an almost uncanny ease, but the way his biceps moved under his shirt distracted you. When at his words you met his gaze, he shot you another blushing smile before ducking his head a little.

“I hope I see you around, Bucky, and not just ‘cause you buy me my favorite coffee.” You winked cheekily at him as you said the last. You were astonished at your own forwardness but unable to stop yourself. You’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t throw yourself at him just a little bit.

Bucky had opened his mouth to reply as he lifted his eyes to yours when his eyes caught something over your shoulder. His face went sheet white and you glanced behind you. You saw nothing but other patrons and no one looked upsetting enough to disturb a man this well-muscled.

When you looked back, Bucky seemed to be hiding behind his hair as he mumbled, “Yeah, nice to meet ya.” You stared as he turned and fairly bolted from the café.

“Y/N!” You jumped when the barista called out your name, so stunned were you by the sudden change in Bucky’s demeanor. You knew it was foolish to be hurt by the behavior of someone you’d only just met, but that didn’t stop the tears that were pricking at your eyes. You grabbed the hazelnut macchiato and turned to leave when the woman who’d been behind you in line placed a hand on your arm.

“I bet this is what set him off,” she said, her face and voice kind as she placed a newspaper in your hand. On the front of the paper was the man who’d just bought you coffee in handcuffs next to Captain America under the headline The Winter Soldier: Truly Reformed?

Your mouth fell open with a pop. You vaguely remembered hearing about this, but as you'd been buried in graduate school when the trial had been going on, the bearded man with his hair in his face hadn’t made an impression. You looked at the door Bucky had run through and remembered how he’d seemed to hide behind his hair just before he’d run out.

When you looked back down at Bucky, because it was undeniably Bucky, though he was clean shaven now but for a little sexy stubble, the woman who’d handed you the paper murmured, “Didn’t seem that bad to me, but I’ve always been a sucker for a killer smile.” You gaped at her as she tipped you a wink and breezed by you with an airy wave. She was gone before you could find your voice to remind her you still had her paper.

You read the article. Of course you did. Then you spent all of your free time over the next three days searching for any other information you could get your hands on. Now that the man had bought you coffee and you weren’t living off caffeine, nicotine, and occasionally Adderall to make it through your Master’s thesis, the story caught you and you couldn’t get enough.

Also, you needed to understand. Bucky had seemed totally normal, except for being possibly the most beautiful man you’d ever personally laid eyes on. However, the one thing you remembered was that the Winter Soldier was a Russian assassin. It didn’t make any sense.

Once you started reading about James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, Captain America's oldest and best friend, prisoner of war and unwilling HYDRA test subject, you couldn’t stop yourself. Using everything you knew, which was considerable, about researching and verifying information, you had learned enough to come to a conclusion of your own.

Based on the testimony at his trial, you thought the verdict to acquit obvious. You simply couldn’t see how he could be held responsible for what he’d been forced to do when what had been done to him had been taken into account. The fact that he’d not been caught but turned himself in once he could no longer be used as a weapon, proved beyond a shadow of a doubt in the courtroom when the trigger words had been read aloud to a stoic, persistent Bucky Barnes, spoke volumes as to the kind of man he was.

You weren’t going to judge before you knew him. Hell, if you saw him again, you were going to buy him coffee.

Bucky slid soundlessly into the elevator with a sigh of relief. He jabbed repeatedly at the door close button; he was almost home free. He could tell by the look in her eye that Natasha had noticed his new habit of haunting the coffee shop. He had no doubt she’d be following him soon.

As the doors slid closed, Bucky breathed a sigh of relief, cut painfully short by the slim redhead slipping into the elevator at the last second.

“You want some company today?” Natasha asked, the corner of her mouth lifting in quiet amusement.

Internally, Bucky was cursing viciously, but he answered quietly. “If you want.”

Though Natasha wasn’t looking directly at Bucky, she could see his thunderous expression out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t know why the people in her life insisted on trying to keep things from her. “For future reference,” she remarked casually, “the door close button doesn’t do anything.”

Bucky paused for a fraction of a second before answering, considering how best to NOT confirm that he’d been trying to avoid her. “What?” he asked, infusing as much puzzlement as he could into the word.

Natasha tipped him a long, vaguely insulted look. She would never understand how this man in particular could so often underestimate her. “It’s called a placebo button. It doesn’t do anything but it’s still there because people like to believe they have some control over their lives.”

Bucky stared in disbelief at Natasha’s impassive profile. “Gee whiz, Natasha. If you’re gonna be this much fun, can you come with me every time?”

“Is that a dare?” Her head turned slowly as she spoke, and the look of challenge on her face sent a chill of fear running down Bucky’s spine.

“God, no.” Bucky spoke fervently as they exited the elevator. “I haven’t forgotten.” He didn’t know how exactly, but Steve always managed to find the most dangerous women on the planet. He now had a scar at his temple where he’d cracked his head open in fright thanks to Natasha.

When Bucky had first come to live with Steve, he’d expressed doubt that she was capable of sneaking up on him. Over the next week, she’d scared the shit out of him dozens of times before he’d finally admitted defeat. He’d kind of loved it; it had been nice to be not be treated like he was broken.

Once they were on the street, Natasha slipped her arm through Bucky’s and smiled winningly up at him. “Do I need to interrogate you? Or are you gonna make it easy on yourself and just tell me why you’re always going to the coffee shop?”

Bucky refused to look at her, well aware of how uncannily observant she was and hoping to avoid giving himself away. “I’d cop to an interrogation.”

Natasha smiled fully this time. “They all think that.”

Bucky slanted her a look out of the corner of his eye, then burst out laughing at the sly grin on the little redhead’s pretty face. “I met a girl.” He gave in with a wry laugh. He didn’t know why he bothered to resist. The Black Widow wasn’t dangerous simply because she was deadly; she could have her prey fully wrapped in silken bonds before they even knew they were trapped. “I’m trying to run into her again.”

“May I ask why you do not already have this girl’s number?” Her tone told him she already suspected he’d fucked it up. “If she’s worth this much effort.”

Bucky ducked his head, hiding behind his hair, something Natasha considered a terrible habit. His voice low, knowing she’d disapprove, he confessed. “I met her the day that big article about me came out. I panicked and bolted before I could work up the nerve to ask.”

Natasha’s secret tender heart melted a little, but she kept her expression sardonic. “Story checks out.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re too sensitive about it.”

Natasha’s airy tone had Bucky snarling. “Am I?”

“You should at least pretend it doesn’t bother you.” The spy that always lived under the surface of her skin spoke absently, her attention caught by the scuffle up ahead on the sidewalk between them and the coffee shop they were heading toward.

Bucky couldn’t be sure, but he thought he detected a touch of wistfulness behind her words. His voice gentler than it might have been otherwise, he murmured, “Is that what you do?”

“Get fucked, James.”

The sound of your voice, ripe with the same loathing he’d heard the first time he’d heard you speak, had his head snapping up to scan the street in all directions.

Next to him, Natasha was smiling again, having noticed Bucky’s sudden alertness. “Are my thoughts audible now?” she asked, mock concerned. “That’s not good.”

Bucky wasn’t listening, his attention entirely on the drama unfolding in front of the coffee shop where he’d met you. His heart was galloping in his chest, either in terror or anticipation, he wasn’t sure which. He was trying to think of a greeting that didn’t make him feel like an asshole when he realized the slickly handsome man in front of you was blocking your path.

“Come on, Y/N!” The man’s voice was a wheedle, and immediately set Bucky’s teeth on edge. “Give me a chance to explain.” With this he reached out and grabbed your arm as you tried to walk around him.

Your eyes went cold as ice as you looked down at James’ restraining hand. He’d gotten completely out of control lately. It was time to remind him who he was dealing with. Your hand closed around the pen in your jacket pocket. “You’re gonna want to take that hand off me.”

James’ eyes narrowed and you felt his hand tighten on your arm. Typical. Quick as a snake, you struck out with the pen, stabbing him in his pretty artist’s hand with vindictive glee.

James yanked his hand away with a yelp and a plaintive, “Look, I’m sorry.”

A few feet down the sidewalk, Bucky and Nat slowed to watch the tableau. Now that it was abundantly clear you had the situation under control, he was happy to stand back and observe. Natasha murmured out of the corner of her mouth. “Did she just stab him in the hand with a pen? I approve.”

Bucky breathed out, attraction and admiration warring in his chest. “That’s her. I think I’m in love.”

You were so fucking done with this bullshit. James had been bugging you for days about getting together “for closure.” You’d naturally been ignoring him. As far as you were concerned, your James chapter was closed. “For what?” You raised your voice, fully prepared to make a scene. “Touching me without my consent or all the other douchbaggery you’re guilty of?” You snarled, using your hand to punctuate your words and ready to brawl if he didn’t back off. “Get it through your thick skull: I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck.”

Though Bucky was enjoying watching you tell this asshole off, he and Natasha had gotten close enough that it felt weird to not speak. Clearing his throat, Bucky said quietly, “Hi, Y/N.”

Bucky’s voice brought you up short. You had started to give up on running into him again. To do so under these circumstances was less than ideal, but you weren’t the type to question Lady Luck.

You spun around and the smile broke on your face like daybreak, lighting you up. Bucky thought you might be the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“Bucky! Hi!” You worried you were being too enthusiastic but based on the look on Bucky’s face when he’d fled, he needed the encouragement. To be fair, you tended to wear your heart on your sleeve on a good day. “I’m so glad I ran into you again. You have to let me buy you coffee this time.” You’d recognized the beautiful woman at Bucky’s side immediately and turned to greet her warmly. “Hello!”

Bucky ducked his head and shot you a shyly embarrassed smile before performing quick introductions. “Sorry. Y/N, Natasha. Natasha, Y/N.

Natasha rolled her eyes at Bucky and offered her hand to shake with a quiet smile. “Pleasure to meet you.” If you hadn’t already seen Bucky, you’d consider making a play for the gorgeous woman in front of you. It’d be quite a ride, but you were pretty sure it’d be worth it.

“Excuse me, we’re trying to have a conversation here.” James’ voice made you jump. The moment you’d seen Bucky you’d completely forgotten about the asshole you’d wasted entirely too much time on.

Your head snapped around, your mouth open to blast the bastard when Bucky replied, his voice low and dangerous. “A conversation she seems to want to escape.” His face had fallen into dark and cruel lines and he looked at James like a roach beneath his boot. To you, however, he shot a sweet smile and asked, “Would you like to have coffee with us?”

You weren’t proud of it, couldn’t explain it, but that darkly violent expression had your underwear going damp. You felt like everyone on the damn street could hear your heart pounding. “I would love to,” you replied with a delighted smile, “but would you mind giving me a minute or two? I really should deal with this.”

Bucky sneered with disdain at “this.” James glared back but said nothing. He wasn’t a fool and could tell when he was painfully outclassed. He was a fit and good-looking man, but Bucky Barnes was intimidatingly thick. He didn’t stand a chance.

Next came the cocky smirk and you were starting to get offended at the level of sexy you were required to endure. “Sure. We’ll wait over there.” Bucky and Nat passed by you and James to wait by the door to the coffee shop. They seemed far enough away to give you privacy, but with his heightened super soldier hearing he couldn’t help but overhear. Natasha overheard because Natasha always overhears. No one knows how; it just is.

“Alright.” You turned to James with a sigh. You couldn’t imagine why he was being so persistent; he hadn’t really cared about you at all. You were thoroughly done and couldn’t understand why James wasn’t. “What do you have to say that it’s worth slipping into stalker territory and has me considering a restraining order?”

James reached out, palm up, as though he expected you to put your hand in his. You grimaced at his hand as he spoke, his voice low and throbbing with emotion. You wondered how he turned it on and off like that. “I miss you,” he said, lifting his hand as though he’d touch your face.

You took a step back. “Uh-huh. What happened to what’s-her-face?”

James hand fell away when he realized you weren’t going to give in that easy. “We broke up when I realized what I’d lost with you.”

The rude snort you gave in response had both Bucky and Natasha choking back laughter. “Translation: she dumped you and now you’re bored and lonely.”

James moved closer, crowding you in to make you more aware of his body. It was his signature move as it could be used for both intimidation or seduction depending on the situation. “When did you get so cynical?”

You’d acquired an immunity to James’ signature move. You stood your ground as you replied, refusing to give a single fucking inch. “When you told me you were only with me because I was fun until something better came along.”

At that, Bucky’s eyes narrowed in fury and only Natasha’s restraining hand kept him from returning to deck the other man. Starting brawls was more Steve territory, but he’d make an exception in this case.

“I didn't mean it.” James’ eyes were limpid pools of chocolate brown and had once been your downfall. You’d acquired an immunity to that, too.

You replied with truly astringent sarcasm coating every word. “Of course you didn't.” You shot him a look rich with derision and waved your hand dismissively as you continued, “Look, this is boring and stupid so I'm gonna go have coffee with my ex-Russian assassin friends. You and I are back where we started. Get fucked, James.”

With that parting shot, you turned and walked toward said friends, both of whom were grinning at you, Natasha in approval, Bucky in relief and the first real stirrings of hope. Once the coffee shop door was closed behind you, the glee was bursting out of you like light. “Oh my god thank you! You guys just gave me the best exit line.”

Bucky was grinning like a fool at you, already utterly infatuated. Based on your ex-Russian assassins comment, you knew who he was and apparently didn’t give a fuck. “Absolutely my pleasure.”

Lucky for you, the pleasure turned out to be yours. Coffee with Bucky and Natasha was a riot, the two of them making you laugh until you laid your head on the table, tears of mirth streaming down your face. Natasha had a wicked sense of humor and she used it to tease Bucky without mercy, but with affection. He mostly teased her back, but it was clear she had the upper hand in their interactions.

After she left the two of you to go back to work, Bucky explained that her loyalty was to Steve, first and foremost, but because Bucky’s was, too, she had happily made him one of hers. You wondered at that explanation, because even you could see the infamous Black Widow had a soft spot. It occurred to you that Bucky might not see himself very clearly.

Since both you and Bucky had the day off, neither of you even considered following her lead. Two hours later, time that had flown by as Bucky kept you telling him everything about yourself, he noticed the time when his phone lit up with a text from Steve.

Couldn’t help but notice you went out for coffee three hours ago and haven’t returned. Everything okay?

“It’s Steve,” Bucky said. His pretty face was sweetly nervous as he went on. “Should I tell him I’ll be back soon, or would you like to have lunch with me?”

The next second, Bucky was struck stupid by the smile lighting up your face. You’d been smiling all morning but this one was something special, sparkling and sweet. Though you seemed completely at ease, he had been on edge, terrified that he’d end up frightening you. This smile was too beautiful, too open, too sweet. The likes of him could never inspire such a thing, let alone deserve it. He was starting to worry that he’d misheard you and when you found out who he really was you’d hate him.

“If you keep giving me options like that, you may never see Steve again.” You couldn’t help but flirt. He was too pretty and something about the dumbstruck look he was giving you made you bold. “I’d love to have lunch with you. It’ll give me a chance to hear everything about you.”

Bucky’s face fell along with his stomach and he ducked his head to hide behind his hair. The sight had the smile falling from your face. “You don’t want to hear everything.” He muttered it, but it seemed to you the pain was crystal clear.

Your voice was a gently teasing caress when you answered, and the wounded animal inside the man lifted its head warily. “Maybe not today. After all, lunch would be a first date and horror stories are generally fourth date material.” You tipped him a sly wink. “Considering the horror story, we can play it by ear.”

Bucky lifted his head a little to stare at you through his hair in disbelief. Were you… joking? If the half-smile and kindness in your eyes were any indication, you were. The only other person to make light of his past was Clint, but Clint was fucked up.

You were certain now. Bucky didn’t see himself at all clearly. Not only was he sweet, and funny, and intelligent, and easy to talk to, and you could go on all day, he was also so goddamn dreamy, you’d actually gotten lost in his eyes more than once. You were pretty sure he noticed, because he’d gotten an infuriatingly sexy smirk on his face each time you had to shake yourself out of it.

“Sergeant Barnes, I’m a fact-checker by trade and by inclination. I would never consider my due diligence done if I didn’t spend a little time with the primary source. But I don’t give a fuck about your history right now. I’d rather hear about your todays.”

As you spoke, a soft smile played around your lips. The sight had Bucky lifting his head, a spark of hope lighting in his chest. The sound of his rank and last name told him without doubt that you knew. As a matter of fact, you probably knew everything in the public record. Yet your face lit up every time you looked at him. Bucky couldn’t understand it, but couldn’t resist it, like a stray responding to a soft voice and a gentle hand. “My todays are pretty boring,” he replied, his sweet smile creeping back.

“I’m still interested.” Your expression turned sultry and you hoped he caught the double meaning behind the words. From the wicked grin he flashed, you weren’t disappointed.

“Let me text Steve back and then, how do you feel about pizza?”

You spoke seriously, without the barest hint of amusement but your eyes were twinkling. “I have very warm, deeply sensual feelings about pizza.”

Bucky’s whole face seemed to light up as he laughed out loud, his eyes squinting tight with mirth while his mouth stretched wide. You couldn’t help but laugh with him, this the most carefree you’d seen him yet.

Bucky was still chuckling as he bent over his phone. So far, so perfect, he thought. He hadn’t yet found anything to dislike about you. Somehow, you seemed to feel the same and that made him the luckiest man in New York.

Her name’s y/n and I think she has the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen.

Steve snorted when Bucky’s response came through. A girl. Typical. His face spread in an absolutely delighted smile. Nothing made Steve happier than when his friend was typical. You say that every time. 🙄

Bucky was helping you on with your jacket when his phone buzzed again. When he saw Steve’s reply, he glanced at you. With a cheeky grin, you offered your arm. Laughing again, Bucky held up a finger before tapping out an answer as quickly as possible. When he was done, he dropped his phone into his pocket and took your arm with an amused half-smile.

I can’t remember any others. And since she just agreed to have lunch with me, I’ll see you whenever she’s done with me.

Of course, it didn’t end at lunch. After a long meal punctuated by a lot of laughter and good-natured flirting, you ended up walking together, first through a nearby park, then through your favorite bookstore. Before you knew it, it was time for dinner and Bucky was asking you to join him again.

You were agreeing before you’d even fully thought about it. At this point, you’d come to a conclusion. Bucky Barnes was a fucking sweetheart. As long as he kept asking you to spend more time with him, you were going to keep saying yes. And if he kept smiling like that whenever you did, you didn’t know how you were ever going to say no.

Much, much later, after dinner, dessert, and more coffee, Bucky walked you to your door. The two of you had done everything you could to stretch the time out longer and longer, neither of you willing to part, too enthralled with the other’s company, but neither of you could think of any further excuses.

Bucky had his hands in his pockets and his head down, hiding again behind his hair as you unlocked your front door. Instead of opening it, you turned back to him, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips when you saw him blushing behind the curtain of his hair.

“Bucky,” you said, and the throaty promise in your voice had him easing forward, “it wouldn’t be too forward to kiss me at the end of our first date.”

Once more the grin broke over his face, this one pure male appreciation. “I was hoping that’s what this was.” He teased gently as his bare hand came up, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

You laughed a little breathlessly. That look, desire and humor, had you fluttering coyly at him. “It will be if you kiss me.”

Bucky smiled, but he didn’t touch you except that big warm hand cupping your cheek and tilting your face for his kiss. Your heart was beating like a drum as he eased closer, lust and excitement tangling inside you and leaving you a little dizzy. Your breath caught at the sight of Bucky’s normally arctic eyes burning like the searing blue at the base of a hungry flame as he dipped his head to close his mouth over yours.

The kiss started out soft and sweet, almost chaste, but the feel of the full, pink mouth you’d been fantasizing about for most of the day set your body ablaze. Bucky didn’t move in, however, and it seemed he held you in place with that single hand against your cheek and neck as with lips, teeth, and tongue he coaxed your mouth open. Truthfully, coaxing was not necessary as you were as eager to explore that tempting mouth as he was for yours.

Bucky was close enough you could feel the heat of his body, and between that and his heady scent of leather, tobacco, and spice your head was spinning. The taste of him on your tongue was as seductive as the way he kissed you as though your breath was the only air he needed to survive.

Somehow, that chaste hand in juxtaposition against that blazing hot kiss combined with the other sensory overload to make this the most erotic experience of your life. You weren’t certain you’d live through having sex with him. You were having a hard time convincing yourself to not drag him inside and find out.

“God,” he whispered against your mouth, his breathing ragged, “you really are perfect.” He couldn’t remember another kiss so bright and warm but also dark and hot. He’d found in your mouth the reminder of both happy sighs and wanton moans and the mixture was a dizzying combination of elation and confusion.

Your eyes fluttered open and at your breathless chuckle, his other hand, which he’d kept gloved the entire day, came up to cup your other cheek as he brushed his lips gently over yours once more.

Bucky was nearly shaking with need. He wanted more than anything to yank you against him and feast on the honey and spice he’d discovered inside the sweetest mouth he’d ever tasted. He was determined to be a gentleman, however, because you were entirely too perfect to risk scaring, no matter how fearless you seemed.

“So, first date implies a second,” he murmured. The soft rumble was unbelievably sexy and had you wondering how he sounded first thing in the morning. You didn’t normally move that fast, but lust was clouding your brain.

You knew you had a ridiculous smile on your face. What you didn’t know was its dazzling effect on Bucky, who could hardly believe you were real, the perfect mix of sexy and sweet. He snatched another kiss, unable to resist that sparkling smile.

You laughed a little and reluctantly pulled your face from his gentle hands. You held yours out in front of you palm up. “If you wanna hand me your phone I’ll put my number in it. You can shoot me a text the next time you want to see me.”

Bucky pulled out his phone and unlocked it before handing it over. He toyed with an idea while he grinned at the top of your head where it was bent over his phone. Once you’d handed it back, he stepped back, afraid if he touched you again, he’d end up pushing too far too fast and frightening you.

With a wink and a sultry “Good night,” you slipped into your apartment and leaned against the closed door, your heart pounding in happiness, excitement, and healthy lust. You were so lost in starry-eyed memories of the best first-date of your life, you jumped a little when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw an unfamiliar number.

Is it too soon to ask to see you again?

Laughing, you swung the door open, shot a hand out to grab the edge of Bucky’s jacket and dragged him inside. Maybe it was too soon. You didn’t give a fuck.

The attractive 40ish brunette in the bright red dress caught your eye and winked as you and Bucky walked into the coffee shop. Bucky was stopping to pick up the Avengers coffee order on his way back while you were on your way to work. You grinned back at her, recognizing her as the woman with the paper the first time you met Bucky all those months ago.

Outside on the sidewalk once more, you pulled Bucky off to the side and took advantage of Bucky’s full hands to take his beautiful face in yours for a kiss. Since his arms weren’t free to pull you close, maybe you could escape before you were having to sprint to avoid being late for once.

When you reluctantly pulled away for the third time from that delicious mouth, it occurred to you that you may not be blameless in these long morning goodbyes. “You’re going to be late again,” Bucky murmured against your lips, the warning weak.

You pressed your cheek to his, affection and something that felt a lot like love rising up to become an ache in your throat. In the last few months, the least favorite part of any day had become this one, when you had to kiss him goodbye. “Ask me if I give a fuck.”

Bucky turned his head to nip at your bottom lip with a quiet chuckle. “I will not. I know the answer.” It was one of the things he loved most about, your absolute refusal to care about the little shit. Too busy living on your own terms, you were a master at ignoring opinions you didn’t already value. He found it weirdly inspiring.

Bucky spotted a vaguely familiar face in his peripheral vision and smirked. You were busy nuzzling into his throat; Bucky had already cursed himself for not kissing you before he’d loaded up with drink carriers. His voice was an amused drawl as he asked, “Speaking of things you don’t give a fuck about, is that James?”

“James who?” You were humming against his skin, struggling with the rush of emotion, like fluttering wings inside your chest. Because you were cuddled against him, your face buried in his throat, you couldn’t see the downright smug grin on Bucky’s face, but James could. The other man simply turned and walked the other way.

“You really are perfect,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your hair, still frustrated by his full hands. You tilted your head back with a laugh. He’d been saying that from the beginning and it always made you melt a little. You didn’t know it was what he’d taken to saying when he wanted to tell you he loved you. He hadn’t yet gotten the courage to say it out loud.

So tenderly you could help but wonder if he was struggling with that same flutter in his chest, Bucky pressed a soft kiss to your lips and stepped back with a teasing grin. “Get goin’, doll. You’re too tempting, and I don’t want you in trouble again.”

“I like being tempting,” you replied with a flirty smile. You glanced at the time and groaned; you were gonna have to haul ass now. “See you tonight!” you called while walking backward a few steps and blowing noisy kisses. Bucky was still laughing as you turned away to start your run to work.

Bucky was still grinning when a couple of blocks away, he came around a corner to find himself face-to-face with the guy you’d dated before him. He didn’t even try to stop himself from saying what he’d wanted to for months.

“Hey buddy! I wanted to tell you: on the one hand I want to punch you in your fucking face for treating my girl like shit, but on the other if you hadn’t, she wouldn’t be my girl. So, thanks. Asshole.”

With a taunting smirk, Bucky walked around the gaping man and kept walking. Behind him he heard James’ outraged shout. Bucky neither stopped nor turned. “I’d give you the finger, but my hands are full,” he shouted back instead.

That had probably been immature and had definitely been unnecessary. Bucky didn’t give a fuck.

The End

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jemej3m · 6 years ago

Text

To the Good Place We Go (p.2)

part two! (sorry about errors totally didn’t read over this)

credit goes to @gluupor for the idea! link to their the good place au here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16782301

warning: aftg typical violence

part one here: http://jemejem.tumblr.com/post/182518320202/to-the-good-place-we-go

“I don’t belong here.” His voice shook. He imagined his father was looking up from the Bad Place, grinning like the mad-man he was. Neil was delivering himself into hell, because it was the right thing to do. His morals had been warped and distorted on Earth. If he was going to spend eternity suffering, he might as well make himself feel better by doing it honourably.

Also, he wanted to prove Andrew wrong. But that was besides the point.

Three-hundred and twenty-one residents, an omnipotent ethereal being and a walking Wikipedia stared at him in shock.

“Well.” Wymack clapped his hands together. “Dismissed, everyone!” He crooked a finger at Neil, and he felt his heart clambering to get out of his chest as he shuffled forward. He tried not to flinch as Wymack’s fingers brushed over his shoulder, and in less than a blink, they were standing in his office. Wymack rounded the desk and grabbed a stress ball off the desk and propping his feet up on the oaken edge, throwing it up and catching it repeatedly.

“Well?” Wymack offered him the chair. Neil sat. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I didn’t try to get in or hack the system somehow.” Neil murmured. “I’m not a mole. It’s a complete mistake.”

“Ha. A human, hacking into the universe? Very interesting. Very impossible. You humans are so strange.” He caught the ball, took his feet off the desk and leaned forward. “Neil Josten, you’ve been chosen as a candidate for MPP. The Middle Place Project. Nicky!”

“Yes?” Nicky had blooped into existence next to him.

“Strike Neil Josten off the Test One list.” Wymack’s smile was small but warm.

“That was a test?” Neil said testily. Wymack held out his hands.

“Honesty is an integral part of being a good person. You, out of everyone, are the most practised liar. Eight years on the run, twenty-two identities—I’m surprised you aren’t having an identity crisis.”

“Same.” Neil muttered. In all honesty, he was glad to have died as Neil Josten. Neil Abram Josten. Out of everyone he’d been, Neil was his favourite.

“If you can come forward, in front of the entire neighbourhood nonetheless, then I’m sure the rest will follow.” He cleared his throat. “The Middle Place Project is proving that humans are capable of change, whether it be improving, or failing. There’s a few in the midst of the neighbourhood that we’re watching to see whether or not you can improve from your characteristic behaviours on earth.”

“Will we get into the Good Place if you do?”

“Maybe in five-thousand years.” Wymack promised. “If I can manage to convince my superiors of your genuine progress.”

“Right.” Neil drawled. “Five-thousand years. No biggie.”

He glared at Neil with intense scrutiny, but somehow, Neil was unafraid of this ethereal being. He was giving Neil a chance, wasn’t he?

“Well?” Wymack grouched. “What are you still doing here?”

“What am I supposed to—“

“Figure it out, Josten. Just don’t tell anyone it’s a test. Got it?”

He pursed his lips. “Cool. Yeah. Got it.”

Wymack watched him, unimpressed, as he shuffled towards the door. Neil shot Wymack a quick grimace as he slipped out.

He blew his bangs out of his face with relief. Andrew stood in the waiting room, arms crossed and eyes barely slits. “So?”

“I’m alive.” He twinkled his fingers. “See?”

“Actually,” Nicky piped up.

“Shut up, Nicky.” They both ground out.

“Test forty-seven!” Wymack clapped his hands. “We’re finally getting into the good stuff. Ethical responsibility!”

Neil threw a troubled glance at Andrew, who, of course, stared impassively back. Ethics?

“What’s sitting in a classroom gonna do about our ethics.” Seth grunted.

Neil had decided he disliked Seth intensely. It was something about the constant fits of anger, irrational judgements and toxic intolerance to everything that wasn’t Allison’s tits or Adderall.

“Well, actually,” Kevin chided. Wymack snapped his fingers, effectively muting Kevin. The young man tried to scream in horror, but slumped in his chair with defeat.

“We’re going to be learning about some of your moral philosophisers and interpret what they had to say about what’s right and wrong. How about some basic questions, hm? Just to gage where each of you at.”

This wasn’t going to go well.

It was fine, wasn’t it? They had, what, five-thousand years?

“These first few should be simple.” Wymack picked a clipboard off his desk. “Let’s see. Neil?”

He looked up at the towering, omnipotent being. “What?”

“Is murder good or bad?”

Neil shrugged. “Depends.”

Wymack looked a little dismayed. “Andrew?”

Andrew jerked his thumb at Neil. “What he said. For example, Seth is a perfect example of why murder isn’t always bad.”

Neil grinned at him, and liked the way a spark of amusement glinted in his eye. Seth was probably clambering out of his chair to haul himself at Andrew in a fit of rage, but Neil wasn’t watching. He simply appreciated the sunlit hair that shone like spun gold, and the perfect understanding shared between them.

Their benevolent guardian simply dragged a hand over his face as his classroom dissolved into chaos.

“Good morning, son.”

Neil opened his eyes slowly. He was sleeping in a double bed, his double bed, in his cottage. In the afterlife. He was in the Middle Place. His name was Neil Josten. He had died at the age of 19. He played striker. His soulmate was Andrew Minyard.

Sitting upright, he saw Andrew standing at the opposite end of his bed. There was a young man standing behind him with a vicious glean to his eye; He had his chin hooked over Andrew’s shoulder.

Andrew was gagged, hands cuffed behind him. His feet were bare: His skin shone with sweat as his muscles convulsed. There were bruises blossoming under his skin: He’d put up a serious fight. How was he bruising? Could you be hurt in the afterlife?

“I said, good morning.”

Slowly, Neil craned his neck around. All six-feet of his father were craned over the edge of his bed, one fist denting the mattress and the other wrapped around Neil’s neck. He was looking at a mirror image, the eyes and the hair and the sadistic smile. Thick fingers tightened around Neil’s windpipe.

“Young Drake Spear was promoted to help me. It’s time to collect our rewards for such excellent work down in the Bad Place.” His grin was that of a wolfs.

“Fitting.” Neil wheezed out. Honestly, he was terrified. The thought of eternity trapped with the unending methods of his father was enough to wish that there was a way for Neil to die and end up in a further layer of the afterlife.

His father only laughed. The last thing he remembered noticing was Andrew closing his eyes. For a moment, it looked as though an angel was praying.

Dan crouched down, back to the wall. In her hand was a magnetic clamp, ready for Bad Nicky. It’d render him useless, and they couldn’t let Nathan Wesninski, Drake Spear or Riko Moriyama have access to him. They were powerful enough as it was.

Kevin was bone-white beside her. It had to have been years since he saw Riko Moriyama. Neil and Andrew weren’t the only ones facing their old demons today.

The man who’d stabbed Dan in the back had been boiling in a pit of acid. The demon in charge of the tank flashed a grin at her. “Want to join him?”

Aaron’s mother had leapt out at him from a shuffling line of prisoners, grabbing for fists of his hair and screaming. She hadn’t been able to tell which twin it was, mixing up the names as she spasmed with hysteria. Aaron had clutched his arms to his stomach and hurried away.

With Dan and Aaron’s close calls, Renee knew it was every possibility that her old gang leader had heard the commotion the group had caused and would want to connect with the girl who ended his life in a knife fight. Renee was clutching her rosary, praying as every demon brushed by her.

God, was Dan exhausted. Matt, Aaron and Seth had all been lured with narcotics. Then Matt got into a fight with a security guard, and Seth backed him up. Then someone insulted Allison as she was trying to flirt her way through a checkpoint, and she’d clawed their eyes out with her nails, but gotten bust up at a result.

So yeah. Not a great time for any of them.

“This is it, kid.” Wymack warned. “We’ve got a window of thirty seconds to get them out of there.”

Dan nodded.

A young man left the room, meaning Bad Nicky was watching over Andrew and Neil. Dan rolled out from her hiding position and bolted at the black-clad man standing in front of her. She whacked the cuffs on, stunning the look of contempt right out of those big brown eyes. He stumbled, turning around to look at her.

“Oh my god,” Allison cackled. “Bad Nicky is a straight, fuck-boy version of Nicky?”

It was true. He was wearing a flat-cap, backwards, and a big grey hoodie underneath a leather jacket. His jeans were torn and he wore stupid, stereotypical boots. He had a tattoo of a girl with her tongue between her fingers on his neck, and a gold-capped tooth.

“Hell.” He slurred. “You got me. Ha-aahh.”

Nicky was staring at himself with horror. “Disgusting.”

“Andrew,” Kevin faltered. “Where’s Neil?”

Andrew was sitting up, both hands chained to the bedposts behind him. He was blindfolded, his clothes in tatters and bloodied. Aaron rushed forward, dragging Nicky with him. The chains were cut and Dan watched Aaron murmur something to Andrew as he tore his blindfold off.

“We have to go.” Andrew said, fierce. Dan had never seen him so angered. “I know where Neil is.”

Matt grabbed bad Nicky and hauled him over his shoulder. The group filed out, lead by Andrew, Aaron surprisingly right on his heels. Despite the obvious abuse, he was legging it down the hallway. With the chaos of the Bad Place, the rag-tag team and their badges had looked like nothing more that a bunch of demons. With a Bad Nicky incapacitated and over Matt’s shoulder, they were running out of time. Andrew somehow had perfectly memorised the route to Neil’s cell.

They were almost there, when Andrew staggered to a holt. The young man they’d seen leaving the room earlier was standing in front of them. Aaron acted too quickly, brandishing a knife and jumping the guy. The knife buried itself into the man’s chest. Dan gasped.

“I won’t let him touch you again.” Aaron promised his twin. “Go.”

Andrew said nothing, instead shoving his way through a metal door on the left just metres past.

The demons present whirled upon their entrance. Dan felt her blood boil as she saw Neil in a chair, head hung. He couldn’t even lift his head to see who’d appeared.

“Wesninski, these humans are mine.” Wymack growled. “Give them back. They’re official property of the Middle Place.”

“Oh, oops.” The man—who did look scarily similar to Neil—grinned at the younger boy. Riko Moriyama. “It’s almost as though demons have to follow rules. Incredible.”

Riko had no eyes for anyone but Kevin. Kevin, who stood with his chin up and broad shoulders as he stared the other boy down.

“I’ll oversee your retirement myself, you rotten sack of sadistic fuckery.” Wymack snarled, stepping forward with Nicky at one side and Andrew at the other. “Back down. Now.”

“Kevin, Kevin, Kevin.” Riko clucked his tongue. “It’s so nice to see you. Such a shame that we’re opposed like this, brother.”

“I’m nothing like you.” Kevin rasped. “I’m going to go to the Good Place.”

“Why bother?” Riko leered. “When you can have so much more power, down here? They recruit the worst, you know. I was just human too. Now look at me.” He lifted his hand, and Neil spasmed, head flung back and mouth open in an aborted scream.

That was the precise moment that everything went to shit — as if everything hadn’t already gone to shit. Wymack launched at Wesninski: Andrew was hurling towards Riko, and the rest were attempting to shut the door on the copious amounts of demonic spawn trying to get a better look.

Dan was desperately trying to get someone’s attention but the only one who listened to her was Renee. That was ultimately futile, because Allison was thrown aside and Renee, obviously lost her shit. Even the faithful had their breaking points.

Kevin was desperately clawing for Neil to break him free: Andrew was brawling with Riko with a desperation that had Riko shaken, Wesninski was waving a knife in Wymack’s general direction, Matt was thrown over a demon’s shoulder and causing a ruckus, Seth was yelling and Allison was wiping furious tears off her face, snatching a knife off Renee.

Wesninski threw the knife. Riko threw himself at Neil. The door was thrown open.

“ENOUGH.” Nicky screamed, standing in the middle of the room.

Everyone froze.

“I’ve been through a lot, today!” Nicky’s voice was so shrill that Dan would have winced if she weren’t completely stiff. “I’ve hauled almost a dozen of you shits through portals, this way and that way. I’ve been running faster than I’ve ever had to run in my life, because I don’t run, I teleport! My husband’s disappeared because he wasn’t compatible with the Bad Place, I’m not meant to be this emotionally distraught because I’m just a machine, and now this?” He gasped. “I. Am. Flabbergasted. It’s my favourite human word, and that’s what I am right now. Not only have you—“ He pointed to Wesninski. “Defied basic laws by having a child with a human, you’ve been recruiting humans! Gracious, do you know the worst part of this entire shit-fuckery?” His voice raised into a scream once more. “I have to live out the rest of my eternal existence knowing that Bad Nicky is a straight fuck-boy!”

“That’s the worst part?” Neil said, weakly, his voice raw with screaming. “Well, gee, Nicky. I missed you too.”

“So,” Nicky continued. “I’m going to unfreeze my friends. Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S. And we’re going to leave. And am going to report your demonic asses to the new Lord Ichirou of the underworld, and I hope you live in agony for eternity. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” He snapped his fingers and Dan almost collapsed, if it weren’t for Matt holding her up. “We’re leaving.”

Andrew hauled Neil to his feet, clutching the taller boy to his side in a fit of possessiveness.

Dan stood by the door as she counted her crew out of Neil’s cell, watching Nicky carve an angry path through the mob of frozen demons. She glanced over her shoulder to see Kevin glaring at Riko.

“Kevin,” Dan started.

The man slapped Riko so hard that Riko’s head shifted, even with Nicky’s freeze power. Or whatever the fuck that was.

“You deserve so much worse than hell.” He said, calmly, before marching out the door. Dan followed him, squeezed his shoulder. His look was not as confident as he’d been momentarily ago, but he offered her a shaky smile.

“Let’s go home.” Wymack said, tiredly slinging an arm around Nicky’s shoulders.

They all smiled faintly, and with a nod, they were on their way home.

“How’d you do in the Trolley exam?”

Andrew glared at the sun. It was still peering over the horizon, the endless rolling hills, trying in vain to grasp a few more minutes of illumination. It turned the sky into a brilliant palette of purples and blues.

He wanted to shove Neil off the roof of this stupid house, but he probably wouldn’t even break a bone. He had been sleeping in Neil’s grossly cramped cottage for a few months, where there was only one room and Andrew had been donated the couch. They’d razed Andrew’s old house to the ground a few weeks back. That had been great fun.

The reason he wanted to shove Neil off was murky, but he knew part of it was because Neil provided him a tether: To stay in the Middle Place, to try and achieve Good Place status with everyone else, to stop himself from marching down and delivering himself into greedy hands. It didn’t matter if Drake and Wesninski and Riko were gone. Hell would still suck.

He hated it.

But he also couldn’t cut the rope.

“I ran you over. It was very satisfying.”

They corner of Neil’s mouth quirked. Andrew hated that too. He hated Neil’s stupid red curls and brilliantly blue eyes. They were sparkling in the sunset, each freckle and scar glossed with a decadent shade of gold. “What was it between?”

“You and nothing. I think I’m a bit behind in class.”

Again, the quirk of the mouth.

Truthfully, the choice had been between Neil and Aaron. Because they were all already dead and this was just a theory, Andrew knew it didn’t matter. But still, he’d found himself torn. Usually apathetic and uninterested, he was placed in the simulation and felt a strange thrumming in his. ear. His heartbeat. Quickening.

Aaron was his brother. He had promised Aaron protection. Aaron had gotten them both killed. Aaron ignored his conditions and went out with Katelyn, and lied about it. Aaron was his brother. Andrew died protecting Aaron from their mother. Aaron had stabbed Drake for him. Aaron was his brother.

But Neil was his other. Neil listened. Neil smiled. Neil was honest with Andrew. Neil was relaxed with Andrew. Neil looked at Andrew in a way that made Andrew felt as though he was coming undone, unravelling at the seams. Neil could see Andrew. Neil understood Andrew.

He’d only had a split second left to decide.

He’d chosen Neil over Aaron.

“Yes or no?”

Neil narrowed his eyes. “To what?”

“A kiss.”

The word sounded so delicate out of Andrew’s mouth. He felt delicate, exposed and raw to Neil’s understanding gaze. All this studying of ethics and morality and those stupid philosophers was getting to Andrew’s head. The question yes or no was balanced on a scale, the decision between forever and never ultimately resting on Neil’s final answer. Andrew fucking hoped it was a yes.

Death made one’s apathetic resolve melt like ice sometimes.

Gosh, he was a miserable forking sap. It was disgusting.

Neil smiled, so hesitant that it was almost unnoticeable. But Andrew saw it. Maybe Andrew understood Neil, too. “Yes.”

Fork the Good Place. Andrew was already there.

once again, credit goes to @gluupor /// link to their the good place au here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16782301

hope u enjoyed!

#the good place #neil josten #andrew minyard #the good place au #andreil #the foxes #all for the game #aftg #david wymack #dan wilds #the foxhole court #part two #jem writes

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