#but christ i can't fucking ignore it anymore and try 'pushing through' or whatever the fuck it is i think i've been doing.

[middle-name-queer]

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[missathlete31]

Work In Progress.... Thursday?

This little conversation came to me when, (shockingly) I was thinking about Hangman angst. Basically it's a conversation between Javy and Nat after the mission, where Javy can't seem to take everyone bashing his best friend anymore (aka fandom Javy is the best Javy).

It paints Hangman in a good but sad light, (sorry I can't help it, I'm VERY BIAS towards him). But I would love to hear what people think about it.

Fair Warning: It's a very rough first draft! Also some adult language in here.

"Are you really all that fucking blind" Coyote spat, an unusual show of animosity dripping from his tone.

"Excuse me?"

"It's an act, Jesus Christ, it's a fucking act" Coyote looked her right in the eyes, any drunkeness she thought she saw was long gone, "he acts like a dick, he acts like the world's cockiest asshole but god he doesn't know any better."

"Don't excuse his bullying-"

"It's how he gets you all to fly better Phoenix, and don't even try to deny that it didn't work. He a shitty communicator but he gets results."

"Why would he bother-“

"Because he cares, shit he cares. He worries non-stop about all of you, about all of us. He brought up Bradshaw's father, a dick move I know" he cut in before Natasha could, "because he was petrified that Rooster wouldn't fly fast enough without it. He knew Mitchell was picking him for the mission and he needed to get him motivated."

"Maverick wasn't even team leader then, don't tell me Hangman knew-"

"Of course he knew, we all did. Everyone saw there was history, everyone saw the way Maverick chased after Rooster on the tarmac that first day. It was obvious he was on some sort of apology tour and was going to use the wingman spot to curry favor- I'm not saying Bradshaw didn't deliver in the end" Javy raised a hand to stop the argument she was about to make, "but you cannot tell me that he was the right choice prior. He never made it through the course under the time. He constantly ignored his group to make a point that slower was fine."

Natasha's gaze turned to Rooster who was chatting with Omaha, Fitz, Fanboy and Payback at the pool table. All was good now but Phoenix remembered the fear in Payback's voice over the comms when he knew Rooster wasn't flying fast enough; wasn't leading them fast enough. Coyote was right; she was blinded by her loyalty at the time but choosing Rooster was clearly Maverick's attempt at making amends, a decision that could have resulted in people not making it home. She turned back to see the other pilot was watching her gaze, "You knew it too,” Coyote told her softly some of his anger burned away, “you just didn't want to accept it."

"I couldn't" she looked down, "not at the time."

"I get it."

But Natasha raised her head, her own anger coming back, "Of course you do," she chided, "you’re blinded by your best friend too. You can't honestly convince me that his actions are because he cares. He insults us regularly.” she spat bitterly.

“He pushes you, in the only way he knows how.”

“Coyote-“

"Believe whatever you want" Javy shrugged, "he prefers you think the worst of him anyway."

"I mean it's just- he's-"

"I know what he is" and again that sobering look was on the man's face, "I know better than anyone and if you or any of the other's would bother to take a second to really look, you'd see it too."

"He's horrible to everyone, can you blame them-"

"Who is always the first one to text you for your birthday Natasha, no matter where either of you are stationed?"

"Okay but-"

"Who sent flowers for your grandmother's funeral? Who drove you six hours to your parents that time you were stuck four years ago? Who helped Yale get the leave he needed by trading in his own? Who made sure Rooster got to the hospital the night of his car accident in flight school? Who salvaged Halo's birthday party when everyone got reassigned at the last minute? Who fought those guys that jumped Omaha despite having no other backup? Who cleaned up when we all got trashed after the dogfight football game so Penny didn't have to on her own? I know it's easier to think of Jake Seresin as a dick but don't deny he hasn't been a friend all these years as well. I thought better of you."

"That's not fair-"

"Isn't it?” His eyes narrowed dangerously, “tell me, do you know when Jake's birthday is?"

The woman couldn't help the heat that rushed to her face from her lack of answer, "I- I don't" she admitted.

"Do you know anything about him? His family? His hometown? Anything? Did you know he never goes back home during leaves or holidays? He stays on base alone or he goes with me if I'm off the same time."

Again Nat shook her head, "I- I never realized-"

"Yeah" Coyote finished his drink and stood up from his barstool, "I didn't think so."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go check on him. I want to make sure he's alright-"

Her brow furrowed, "Why wouldn't he be?"

"Just forget it."

"No wait," she pulled at Javy's arm so he couldn't walk away, "I’m serious. I know he didn’t come out tonight but I figured he had other plans or something. Is that not the case?”

Coyote looked her dead in the eye for a moment and Phoenix felt like she was taking a test she didn’t know how to pass. Finally Javy seemed to lower his defensives, “He didn’t come out because he was trying to get some sleep” the man shared carefully.

“Oh-“ Nat couldn’t contain the surprise, “he’s having trouble sleeping?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re worried about him” she observed softly.

“Someone has to” he shot back tightly, “because he sure as shit isn’t going to worry about himself.”

The statement caught Natasha off guard but she opted to not question it. She always thought of Jake Seresin as self centered but clearly from the stress in Javy’s posture, it seemed that cockiness was just another part of the Hangman show. Phoenix cleared her throat to get her companion’s attention, “do you think-“ she huffed out a breath, not sure how her request would be received, “do you want some company to go check on him? Maybe I can help?”

Coyote stayed silent for a moment as he watched her with a frown. His eyes shifted to the other Daggers still having fun before they rested back on the female aviator, “don’t you want to get back to the others?”

“I want to check on my friend” she amended with a raised brow, relieved when Javy matched her expression but didn’t exactly contradict her. “He’s not going to like it” Coyote offered instead, “Jake didn’t want anyone to know.”

“When have I ever done what Hangman likes” she tried to joke. It barely landed but Phoenix counted it as a win when Javy gave the tiniest of a nod towards the door, “alright, let’s go.”

Part 2:

Javy headed into the gym quickly, immediately reaching for the speed controls on the treadmill and slowing it to a walking pace. Hangman offered a weak nod as he staggered off the machine. "Thanks man" the man's voice was breathy as he panted, "went a little too hard."

"'A little hard?'" Coyote mocked, "you look ready to collapse-"

The blonde waved him off, reaching for his water bottle and taking a big sip, "I'm fine- what you doing here anyway?"

"When I didn’t see you in your bunk, I figured your dumbass would head to the gym, do you have any idea what time it is? What are you doing Jake? The treadmill says you’ve been running for 11 miles already! Are you crazy?”

The blonde pilot bristled in indignation but Javy could see the touch of embarrassment that colored Hangman's cheeks, "It’s fine” Jake argued, “It’s just a work out, don’t get all upset-"

"I will get upset because you’re meant to be trying to get some sleep" he emphasized the other man’s sweating body, "this doesn't look like sleeping."

"Just needed to get my body a little more tired before I try again-"

"Jake this is the fifth night in a row-"

"It's getting better, I was able to get twenty minutes before-"

Javy shook his head sadly, "You need to talk to someone man,"

"I'm handling it-"

"No you're not, you haven't gotten a decent night sleep since we docked and I'm getting worried.”

Hangman opened his mouth to respond but stopped when he noticed another figure in the gym, a dark haired woman standing just a few feet back, "Phoenix?" he gaped out in surprise, “what are you doing here?"

Nat offered a weak wave as she stepped closer, "Hey Bagman-"

Jake’s green eyes narrowed onto his best friend, cold with betrayal, "Why did you bring her?” He asked sternly.

Javy shrugged, "She insisted."

"For what?” Hangman asked, “ I texted you before that I was fine. I told you to enjoy your night-"

"And I wasn't. Not with you here not sleeping- come on man, let me help-"

"There's nothing to help" Jake turned to Phoenix, his voice short but with more emotions than he normally showed, “I don't know why you felt the need to come but you can head on back to the bar now, nothing to see here."

The woman refused to be deterred, "I heard you’re having trouble sleeping-“ she began.

Jake’s shot Javy another nasty look before turning back to Nat with a smirk on his face, “no actually,” he retorted icily, “I felt like a late night workout. It takes a lot to look this good-“

"Jake-" she couldn’t contain her eye roll, “you don’t have to lie”

“Lie about what Natasha?" He opened his arms like he welcomed her argument, “I’m sleeping fine okay? Javy is just being ridiculous. I’m good-“ but he cut off when Natasha’s hands grabbed his. “Jake” she whispered, waiting until his green eyes finally met hers, “please. I'm not here to judge you. It’s okay.” she motion to Javy and herself, “we both just want to help you.”

“I don’t need help!” The man continued to argue. “I told you I’m good- I can sleep anytime I want okay,” his composure started to slip, his words becoming more frantic, “I can. It’s fine. I’m fine-“

She squeezed his hand tighter, “it’s normal what you’re going through” she reasoned but the blonde aviator only shook his head, “it’s not” he finally admitted, voice broken, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me” he let out a loose sob.

“Oh Jake” Nat pulled him into her chest despite their size difference, “there’s nothing wrong with you. I get nightmares too you know-"

But it was clear she said the wrong thing as Hangman jumped from her embrace as though burned. He scrubbed at his face, erasing any evidence of his breakdown. “It makes sense you have nightmares” the man explained, his tone softened at the woman’s admission, but he kept his distance. “You had the bird strike, you flew the mission. Your nightmares are warranted.” He shook his head, “I was just the spare, I never flew the course-“

Nat's eyes widen as she stared at the exhausted man in front of her. One look at Javy and she could tell that he felt just as horrified at Hangman's rationale. “Jake- you flew the mission-"

"I didn't. I was just a dick to everyone and compromised the team.”

She shook her head, "You saved Bradley and Mav, you got a confirmed kill, you saved the day-"

"And I was almost too late, the missile... I-" he trailed off, his face contorting with emotions before he was able to pull the Hangman mask back on. Jake steeled his features, “look I don't need your concern alright? Go back to the others, both of you. I'm fine-"

"Jake-" Javy argued reaching forward and gripping his best friend's arm. Jake gave it a second before he shook of the touch, "Leave me alone, I mean it."

TO BE CONTINUED: (Maybe?)

[poppy-metal]

okay i know you're rightfully on some maid eren shit which is VALID and i LOVE it but i have this bully eren idea my friend gave me and on god i am about to BUST i have to share it with SOMEONE. it's part of my shitty nightmare craigslist roommate eren yeager cinematic universe i have in my head

you don't have to respond to this, even keep it to yourself if you like it, but i just! have to get it off my chest. i might post it to my blog but i just feel like you would appreciate it, so i wanted an opinion from the CHRIST of eren yeager headcannons themselves.

so my friend and i were shooting off some headcannons and we came up with this idea and one second i just need a moment to recuperate myself and that's super shitty NIGHTMARE craigstlist roommate eren yeager and when i tell you it has RUINED my life i mean it has RUINED my life.

ALSO I HAVE NEVER SUBMITTED MY SMUT HEADCANNONS TO SOMEONE BEFORE? SO IDK THE ETTIQUITTE SO I AM SO SORRY IF I MADE U UNCOMFY. IF I HAVE PLZ IGNORE ME.

- so like imagine, you're hard up for a roommate and so you hit up craiglist b/c you know the state of the economy is absolute SHIT and you are kind of in a rush. you end up moving into this two bedroom apartment with some dude on craigslist (eren) whose roommate just moved out.

- you don't know it but eren can't keep a roommate to save his LIFE. it's because he's just such an AWFUL roommate. like plays videogames all day. homie has a shit ton of money but literally NOBODY knows where it comes from or where he works. he just disappears and comes back he says it's "work" but never actually says where he works.

- throws his feet up on the coffee table and shit, doesn't wipe off his feet when he comes into the apartment, leaves cups out, just does not pick up after himself. eats the last bit of your food but gets mad when you do the same to him, uses your extra toothbrushes, just overall leaves a mess.

- the worst part? his room is IMMACULATE. he is FULLY capable of keeping clean, he just likes to crack open a can of whatever the fuck he drinks on the couch, throw his feet up on the table, and watch you bend over and pick up stuff in an angry huff with very steely eyes. this man's eyes are on you ALL the time.

- for the most part u put up w/ it because you're just that hard up for a roommate, but the final straw is when he leaves his dishes in the sink for like a week straight

- you storm from the kitchen into the living room in an absolute angry huff, face scrunched up from anger, and start just laying into him about doing the fucking dishes like "it's just not that hard!"

- the entire time you're raving, he just sits back - hands behind his head. "you done?"

- stands up, puts all the dishes up - in a way that you HATE that's not even CORRECT because he has studied the way that you put up the dishes like in the few months he's made living for you hell he has picked up on your small habits.

- now he's sitting down on the couch again and you're still ranting and raving at him. he looks super pissed off now.

- also did i mention the sexual tension between u two is IMMACULATE?

- while you're in the middle of raving, kicks over his soda that's on the table and gets it all over the carpet.

- now you're pissed and just raving and bitching. because who the fuck does that?

- pushes u on ur knees, bends you over, presses his cock into your ass and keeps u there for a second - grabs a rag from the table, stuffs it in ur mouth, and know what this fucker says?

- "clean it up. you might want to get further on your hands and knees -" presses his cock into you, which is obviously very hard against u, "make sure to get nice and deep in there"

- leaves to go to his room leaving u shook as fuck. obviously u clean it up b/c holy fuck

- tension builds up over the next several weeks and u get closer to levi and erwin, ur local next door gays (or roommates, depending on if u ship them or not). levi won't admit it but he loves u a lot and so does erwin.

- eren being really unhappy b/c ur spending so much time with the next door neighbors and not letting him terrorize you

- starts banging on levi's door one day, demanding to know where u r. levi answers the door. obviously he can see you over levi's short ass head but homie is a real one and is like "she's not here"

- "i can see her she's right -"

- levi wacks eren several times with the broom until he goes away.

- so u come in late that same night and homie is seething. this is where the sexual tension BUSTS.

- so u open the fridge bc you're looking for water, right, bent over and he comes in b/c he heard u come in (he's been waiting for u to come back all night).

- very stealthily slips behind you, presses his crotch against ur ass, and gives a nice comfortable shove - wedging u in the fridge

- reaches over u, his chest pressed against u, grabbing the water you wanted.

- sits there with his crotch pressed into u, slowly drinking the water while ur sitting there, squirming, trying to press ur way out of the fridge, but his hips have you pinned there. u don't know why ur turned on but holy HELL you're turned on. ur pressing ur ass into him and everything, trying to grind into him a bit. you claim to do it b/c ur trying to push him off but he knows why you're really doing it. the entire time u r stuck there, water from the shelf above is just dripping on you. it's cold as fuck bro and ur nipples? hard b/c it's cold.

- gets halfway through the water and go "i don't think i want to drink it anymore" dumps the other half of the water on u.

- you are dripping in water, t-shirt clinging to u. homie is marveling at how tight ur shirt is clinging to you, how cold you r when ur shivering.

- pulls you up by the neck from behind and closes the fridge so he can press u against it

- he's whispering in ur ear, asking if u had fun fucking the neighbors b/c "you seem like the kind of slut who would enjoy something like that". it's not like that at all but homie is a jealous guy.

- oh yeah did i mention he's a jealous guy?

- has his fingers in his mouth while he fucks you from behind for the first time, head pressed against your work schedule that's pinned to the fridge, asking you a slew of shit like

- "do you like that?"

- "i bet you like cleaning up after me like a lil maid"

- i mean he is absolutely ROCKING you against that fridge, fingers in your mouth snapping his hips against urs

- "you've just been playing coy w me the entire time, i bet u've been thinking about this for months - i know you have. i can see the way u bend over to put on a show for me when you clean up after my mess like a good lil housewife. good girls just don't wear panties like that and bend over not expecting to get fucked. bet you been waiting for this, dirty whore" ext. ext. ext.

anyways i am so sorry if this made you uncomfortbale?

again, haven't submitted anything like this in my life before?

oop.

thank u for ur time.

[avyssoseleison]

Funnily enough I was going through a lot of your old fics yesterday for nostalgia reasons and now can't stop thinking high school enemies to lovers deancas ideally with some punk!cas nerd!dean maybe? Fully understand if that prompt doesn't tickle your fancy though

Please enjoy these 3.2k of enemies to homework buddies!

“Winchester.”

Dean will ignore him.

“Hey, Winchester!”

Dean will most definitely ignore him. Just keep on walking. If Novak thinks he can’t hear him, surely he’ll leave him alone. He’ll go bother someone else, and Dean will finally be free of him.

“Winchester!”

Dean hears, but doesn’t listen. He starts humming to himself when there’s suddenly a hand on his shoulder, ripping him out of his thoughts.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, you assbutt!”

And there he is, of course: Castiel Novak. With his dumb boots and even dumber leather jacket, and, dumbest of all, that small little frown that slowly morphs into a way too pleased smile the longer Dean glares at him.

Christ.

By the time when Novak’s smile turns into a full-blown grin, Dean finally musters up the strength to look away. The soft rustle of tree crowns in the distance reminds him of what a great morning he has been having, and what a perfect day it could have been, had Novak decided to leave him alone. As it is, his day might turn out a bit marred, after all. A bit more normal, perhaps.

“‘Assbut’?” Dean quips, way too late. “What kinda insult is that?”

“What kind of delayed comeback is this?” Novak counters. 

“It’s not as delayed as your…” Dean doesn’t really know enough about Novak to be able to insult him in any meaningful way, and what he knows of him, he doesn’t want to use. So, instead, he finishes lamely with, “...development.”

Novak could not look any less impressed, especially because the raise of his eyebrow alone continues their little banter in a manner that clearly suggests that if anyone’s development is delayed, it has to be Dean’s. However, that level of insult is apparently not one Novak deigns to lower himself to, as he continues to look smug while busying himself with lighting a cigarette and blowing out a lungful of smoke with obvious relish.

Dean makes a face and pointedly waves his hand in front of his face. “Smoking’s bad for you,” he simply states, making Novak chuckle lightly.

“So’s a lot of things, if society is to be believed. I am not much of a believer, though, and I do enjoy the small pleasures in life.”

The small, self-satisfied smile Novak shoots him sends a strange feeling through Dean’s body, from his lips down to his very toes, and everything in-between.

Dean swallows. “What do you want, Novak?”

“Oh, nothing much.” Novak takes a drag while trotting along Dean who starts moving again, trying to put some distance between himself and the self-proclaimed anarchist. “I just have a small favor to ask you,” he says, sounding as though whatever he is asking for is actually not that small at all.

“Again?” Dean grumbles, thinking of Novak quickly copying his homework last week, secluded in that small parking lot that no one but Novak and some people in the know ever seem to use, and of what Novak did in return. “I’m not doing you any more favors, man,” Dean scoffs, and stomps on.

Nonetheless, Novak stays hot on his heels.

“Why not?” Novak presses, “I’m not asking for much -- I just need today’s Math homework. I didn’t hear Mr. Singer give us any, but Meg just told me he wanted us to solve like 15 fucking problems, and she didn’t do them either.“

“Of course not.“ Anything else would’ve been shocking enough — if Novak has a bad reputation, Meg Masters‘ is even worse. All kinds of rumors are going around about her, ranging from drug use to prostitution to downright witchcraft. Although Dean cannot confirm nor deny any of the rumors, he is inclined to believe most of them. And Meg Masters herself would probably laughingly accept any accusations -- she is that kind of person. And although Dean cannot help but grudgingly respect her for her attitude, he also resents her for it: and how could he not, when he works so hard to do what is asked of him, and stick to the rules? Yeah, the only way someone like Meg could shock Dean would be to actually do her homework for a change.

“Now, now,“ Novak chides playfully, even if it doesn’t seem like he cares all that much about it. “Meg does her best.“

“Just like you do, huh?“

At that, Novak‘s grin turns darker, a bit more dangerous. “So harsh, Winchester. I think you know better than most how sometimes, things are not as easy as they seem. That circumstances are different for everyone.“

“Yeah, yeah,“ Dean dismisses, with a pang in his chest, though he gets it. Unfortunately, he really does. “Anyway, I won’t give you the homework.“

“Why not?“

“Because why would I? I don’t like you and you only hit me up when you need stuff from me. Besides...“ he begins, then swallows back a proper explanation. “You know why.“

“Oh, I do?“

“You damn well know you do.“

“Hmm, alright.“ Novak takes another drag, unbothered. “Listen, if you give me today’s homework, I’ll make it worth your while.“

“Not interested,“ Dean says, already having a hunch of where this is going.

“No? Could be something similar to last time. You liked last time’s payment, didn’t you?” Novak asks, and it’s just like Dean expected.

Dean avidly fixes his gaze on the school building, still hidden behind some trees, but not too far off anymore. He will be safe there -- Novak would never dream of bothering him where anyone else could see. 

“I fucking did not,” he argues, already feeling heat creep into his cheeks.

“Really? I could’ve sworn you did, what with all the blushing and squirming and your pants going--”

“Novak!” Dean barks with a swelling sense of despair. His entire face feels hot by now, and is probably as red as a tomato, “I sure as hell did not enjoy whatever you call ‘payment’ for last week. Besides, I wouldn’t even call it ‘payment’ so much as fucking ‘harassment’.”

There is a beat of silence. Then, “Are you serious?” Novak asks, in an unidentifiable tone of voice.

“‘Harassment’, ‘molestation’, ‘taking advantage’,” Dean recites, enjoying this now that he is gaining momentum. “You call it payment, I call it an affront, and--”

“Is that really what you think, Winchester?” Novak cuts in at the same time he stands still, his eyebrows drawn together in an unfamiliarly serious way. “That I harassed you?”

Dean stops as well. He looks back at Novak, his straight back and straightforward face, the way that he seems not just annoyed by the accusation, as Dean would have expected, but unsettled. As if he were taking Dean’s half-joke seriously, and reconsidering his own course of action.

Guilt wells up in Dean, and he holds his hands up in reassurance. “I didn’t--” he doesn’t know how to actually finish that sentence, so he just leaves it hanging.

There is nothing to say there, not really. What Dean said was half in jest, and half in… half in what he knows anyone else would think of the situation, or should think. It’s what Dean himself should think: that it was unexpected, unwanted, unreciprocated. That his animosity towards Novak just grew over it, that he truly hates him now. That there was no part of Dean that enjoyed any of it, no part of him that longs to do it again.

Novak keeps staring at him, though, reassessing. His stillness is as unnerving as his little smiles and contemplative looks usually are, even if in different ways. Regardless, he seems to come to some sort of conclusion as he takes in Dean’s still figure, the flush in his cheeks and whatever else there is to see, since he suddenly steps forward, closer towards him again.

“Harassment, was it?” Novak says, now with cold fire burning in his eyes that takes away Dean’s breath for just a moment. “Because I do seem to remember that you were the one who not only told me it was okay if I gave you a kiss on the cheek, but turned it into something more. By turning your head, parting your lips, not letting me go. You were the one who slipped me the tongue and kept going and going. You were the one who begged me to do more, kiss you more, touch you more, fu--”

“No!” Dean interrupts him, with burning cheeks and a stomach that has already dropped all the way down. “S-Stop making shit up, Novak. You know I’m not like that -- I’m not like you --, so I’d really appreciate it if you could leave me out of your fantasies. You were the one who harassed me--”

“--I just said--”

“--who pushed me to give him my homework in the first place--”

“--I asked you if it was okay to--”

“--and who made me do something I sure as hell neither enjoyed nor wanna do again.”

“Oh, really?” Novak asked, raising an eyebrow, in what might constitute a challenge or a feeling of false imputation, or both. “So, if I told you I’d love to kiss you again if you let me copy your math homework, you’d tell me no? Would what, cry harassment again if I dared touch so much as your wrist or even came close to you again? Or,” he continues, voice dropping into a darker tone while he does indeed inch closer towards Dean, close enough to touch him, and who remains where he is, rooted to the spot, “would you tell someone about it? Mr. Singer, perhaps? Or the counselor? Hmm, one thing’s for sure, though.” He laughs, but there’s no humor behind it. It sounds pained, even to Dean’s ears, knowing. “You wouldn’t tell your dad, would you? That you made out with a guy, and liked it? That you wouldn’t mind doing it again, given the right circumstances, some good excuse? Such as taking the long way to where you’ve parked your car, past the small parking lot you know where mine is and where I usually hang out? So that, I don’t know, perhaps I might come over when I see you, and all you had to do was bat your long lashes at me, bite your pretty lips, and wait for me to make a move again?”

It feels as if all the air is sucked out of Dean’s lungs. Standing there in front of Novak, feeling the heat of both his words and his body, he feels seen-through, known; and as lacerated and repugnant as an open wound.

Dean  wants to draw back into himself, into his safe shell, but he can’t. “You’re ridiculous, man,” is all he can mumble out in return as he twists his gaze away from Novak.

They remain there like this for God knows how long. Dean, looking somewhere between their feet and Novak’s almost heaving chest, and Novak, with his face hidden from Dean’s view, but his hands clenched into fists.

By the time Novak’s hands open again, it feels as though an hour has passed, though it probably were mere minutes.

“Alright,” Novak blows out on a breath, “let me make you a deal. Just so we’re on the same page, and we’re both absolutely clear on what is okay and what might be harassment or anything of the sort.”

Hearing Novak say that word again revives the feelings of guilt in Dean, but he knows he’s made his bed, so now he has to lie in it. So, he swallows and nods, feeling all of his body tense. “What kinda deal?”

“It goes like this: you either refuse to let me copy your homework and I won’t ever touch, much less kiss, you ever again. I’ll leave you alone. Or, you allow me to copy today’s homework at the very least, so Mr. Singer won’t call my foster home again, and you can choose whatever payment you want, as long as it’s somewhat reasonable. Money, cigarettes, beer, anything you want me to do, you name it. As long as you name it. I won’t give you what you’re not explicitly asking for.”

Dean frowns. “What? How is that a deal? It’s either you win or I do, no in-between. I mean, fine by me, but you get nothing out of it, so what gives?”

“It’s not that bad of a deal,“ Novak says, finally flinging his cigarette to the ground and grinding it out. 

He gives no further explanation, though, which gets on Dean’s nerves even more. “You suck at coming up with deals, you know that?“

“Not really,“ Novak says, shrugging a little. “As I see it, it‘s win-win for you and win-lose for me. Which, for me, too: is fine. It all depends on what you want.” There’s something strangely soft in the way he is looking at Dean, something almost wistful. “And on whether you’ll actually express it.”

Put on the spot yet not, there isn’t much for Dean to do but nod in acquiescence. He’d like to pretend he still doesn’t get what Novak is going for, but he does, deep down. It’s both an in and an out -- what he was hoping for, but couldn't have asked for. Now he has to ask for what he wants, and if he doesn’t, he won’t get it. And he’s not sure he can. Not when there’s rules and expectations and the shadow of a man larger than Dean, larger than life itself, endlessly looming over him.

“Okay,” Dean says, pinching the bridge of his nose. Novak keeps staring at him in that stiffly intense way of his. “Alright. I mean, it probably would be pretty bad if you turned up without homework again, huh? Last I heard, you got into some pretty dire straits when Mr. Singer called your foster home, right?”

Novak huffs out a sound of amusement, his shoulders sinking in what looks like relief. “You’re well-informed.”

A furious blush threatens to stain Dean’s cheeks again. “It’s just what I heard. People talk. About you. And, uh, everyone else, I guess.”

There it is again, that soft expression. And Dean thinks he might recognize it now, impossible enough: Novak looks fond.

“They do,” Novak agrees, showing no offense at any possible implications of him being the talk of the school, which he most definitely is. “And yes, it was ‘pretty bad’, as you’ve said. I’d much rather not have a repeat performance.”

“Easy way to avoid it.”

“Yes, I’m working on it at the very moment.”

In spite of himself, Dean huffs out a laugh. “I meant doing your own damn homework. I know you’re smart enough to do it, even if you barely show up in class. You ace all the tests even when you weren’t there, so I don’t believe you couldn’t just as well hand in your homework if you fucking wanted to.”

Novak hums in open amusement. “Is that your own observation or people talking again?”

Feeling as though caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Dean just lamely stammers out a, “It’s-- it’s common knowledge, okay?” before setting into motion again.

Novak’s laughter follows him the first few steps, then he is beside him again.

“Who knows, maybe you’re right and I could take care of my own homework. But maybe I like not doing so, and asking certain other people for it instead.”

It’s obvious what -- or rather, who -- he means by that, that Dean is pretty sure his skin will never be anything but pink again. “Oh yeah?” he needles, “You got many people doing your homework? Giving them the same payment, too?”

“No,” Novak replies surprisingly quickly, “there’s only one person, and only one time I offered that type of payment.”

For a minute, they walk in silence as they almost reach the stairs of the school house. There’s few other people around, most of them just entering the building or looking at their phones, unheeding of the pair.

“So, we have a deal?” Novak eventually asks into their waiting silence.

“You can have today’s homework,” Dean relents, holding out on what he knows Novak is actually going for.

“Thank you, Dean,” Novak says with a gummy smile.

The sound of his name stirs Dean him up a bit more, reminding him of the only other time when Novak called him by his first name: when he was crowding Dean up against a wall, removing his glasses, and kissing his cheek so softly that Dean needed more, needed to be closer to this other guy, to this enigma of a person.

“Don’t mention it,” Dean mumbles.

“As for your payment…?” Novak probes, though with his voice in a whisper as they are close enough to other people now that they might otherwise be overheard.

“Don’t know yet,” Dean says, his voice clipped.

“I’m sure you already have something in mind.“ It’s completely uncalled for Novak to say this in such a low and heady way.

“Maybe you do, but I don’t.“ He doesn’t know, he thinks. He can’t, is why. He won’t, he tells himself.

“Dean,” Novak says, using his first name again, as if they were friends or something more, sounding intimate in the most casual way, and that does it.

“Damnit, Novak, I want—“ Dean bursts out.

Novak looks at him in expectation, all of him turned towards Dean, listening.

He won’t, he won’t, he can’t.

Can’t he?

“—time,“ Dean finishes lamely.

Novak pulls a face that clearly says, ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed.’

Which is all the worse.

“Listen, Novak, you… you might be right.“ Dean pulls a face. “I can’t believe I just said that. But yeah, I might have an idea of what I want, what I’d like to have,” he pointedly does not look at the other boy or anything else but straight towards the school. “But you’re also right in that my dad wouldn’t— I can’t--” He swallows, tries to shake the thought out of his head, but it unfortunately stays stuck. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll think about it, okay?”

“You will?” Novak asks, sounding hopeful.

“Yeah, sure. Maybe.“ He blows out his breath, scrubs a hand through his own hair, and continues, “Might take me some time, though. Maybe a long time. Maybe forever.“ He laughs mirthlessly. “So, today’s homework might actually turn out to be a freebie for you.”

The expression on Novak‘s face is hard to read, but undeniably one he usually does not show in public. For a second there, Dean thinks Novak wants to reach for him: his hand lifts and opens just so, swerving in his direction. Before anything comes off it, though, he drops his hand again, burrows it in his pocket and says, “Take all the time you need, Dean.“

He might have to, Dean thinks. Probably nothing will come of this, not right now, maybe not for as long as he is as young as he is, dependent on his father’s will, bound to him for freedom. Perhaps, though, some other time, in some distant future, or hidden behind some bleachers, he might find a taste of liberation, or the touch of Novak’s lips again.

Dean turns away from the other boy as the school bell rings, the call-back to the present not quite as oppressive with blue eyes and a soft smile still impressed on his mind.

[davidsons89]

Toxic Turner - part 3

WARNINGS: this story contains signs of a toxic and manipulative relationship. also contains smut, mentions of drugs and alcohol. some scenes contain forms of abuse. read at ur own risk :)

hours went by, all morning you argued and bickered. you gained a little more hatred each other. eventually you'll get sick of him, but at the moment you couldn't resist him. you had both planned to spend the afternoon at your family's house for a barbecue.

you and alex stepped out of the car as you arrived at your mothers house. "you're lucky you're even here, don't test my patience" he sternly said to you as he closed his car door. the two of you were having a row about something totally stupid in the car.  "you can't stop me from seeing my family, asshole" you roll your eyes as you begin walking to the door, he pulls you back by your wrist to walk alongside him. "i can, and i will" he whispered in your ear as the pair of you walk inside together where you're immediately greeted by your mother who rushes to hug you both.

"we're having a barbecue" she says, pointing to the back yard through the kitchen window. you and alex glance outside to see quite a few people. "oh nice" you smile as you grab a soft drink before heading outside to greet the rest of your family.  you and alex were glued together, there was no tearing you apart. your family saw you as the perfect couple, but nobody sees what goes on behind closed doors.

"hey guys." your cousin says approaching you both. he sits next to you on a small wall where you could glance at everyone from.  "what's up" alex said and fist bumped your cousin. "want one?" he asks you, pulling a blunt out of his pocket. you and your cousin bonded greatly over that stuff. "no than-" alex begins but you quickly cut him off. "yeah" you say, taking the blunt from your cousins hands, he lights it up for you and you begin smoking it. "really?" alex asks you as your cousin walks away to see to your other cousins. "what?" you ask, taking a puff from it.  he gives you a judging look. you furrow your eyebrows at him. "you're allowed to smoke cigarettes but i can't smoke weed?" you ask, chuckling to annoy him. "no, you can't" he said, reaching over to rip the blunt from your lips. he puts it out and shoves it in his pocket.

"alex" you say and reach back over for it but he shoves you back. "don't go anywhere" he said, assisting you to stay with the gesture of his hand.  he stands up and heads inside to grab a drink of alcohol for himself. you sigh to yourself as you sit innocently on the half wall waiting for him. "y/n, why you sitting over there by yourself?" your mom loudly asks over the music sounds. "come here" she says, you giggle and shake your head reassuring her that you were ok. you wanted to go to her, but alex would be mad. he liked to keep you all to himself.

he came back with two glasses of alcohol, handing one to you before sitting back down next to you. "i told you i'm not drinking tonight" you sigh, looking down at your half-empty glass of orange juice on the floor next to your feet.  "you'll do whatever i say" he stubbornly says, taking a sip from his drink and looking around at everyone, giving them judging looks per usual. "drink it" he raises his eyebrows at you, pressuring you into drinking the alcohol. you huff through your nose as you took a sip of the alcohol. he laughs at you to make you feel embarrassed. "a bigger sip than that" he chuckles, pointing down at your glass you to pressure you into drinking more.  you roll your eyes at him before taking a big gulp from the glass. "that's more like it" he smirks, taking a sip from his own glass.

you scoff and mumble something under your breath, making him sternly look at you. "what did you say?" he intimidatingly asks. "nothing" you shake your head without looking at him. you're making him angry by doing simply nothing.  "you're so lucky you're with your family" he mumbles. "or what?" you chuckle at him. "or i'll hurt you" he smirks at you. you just look down at the glass in your hands and nervously ignore him. "yeah, that'll shut you up" he laughs before continuing to drink his drink.

as the afternoon went on, you began to get intoxicated. alex wanted to get you drunk on purpose, he wasn't even tipsy by the slightest. "woah" you say as you stumble over your own feet whilst dancing with your sister and aunt. "careful" your aunt says as you hook onto her arm to keep yourself stable. the three of you giggling as you continue to dance. alex, sitting on a table with a few of your relatives, was just watching you and secretly smirking at how drunk you began to get. "they need to slow down on their drinks" your grandma said and chuckled, alex chuckling along to agree.

some more time passed, you were in the living room drunk chatting away with one of your sisters guy friends. alex hadn't seen you for a while so he began to look for you. he walks into the house and hears your voice, heading straight to you. he walks in and is greeted by the sight of you alone with another man. internally, his blood is boiling, but externally, he remains calm.  "y/n come on" alex says, walking over to you and pulling you up by your arm. "sorry" alex apologizes to the guy on your behalf of annoying him. "it's fine, might need to give her some water" the guy chuckle. you giggle at him before alex pulled you out of the room. "i need to pee" you say, your voice stumbling with your feet. alex takes you to the downstairs bathroom and locks it after you both.

you begin to do your business as alex leans his back against the door, watching you. "stop- watching me pee. it's weird. you're weird" you drunkly speak. "yeah ok, y/n" alex rolls his eyes at you. when you were done, you flushed the toilet and washed your hands with him still standing against the door.  "what's your problem?" you ask, looking at him through the mirror before walking away from the sink to grab a towel from the shelf. you start to dry your hands as you're facing him now. "what do you mean?" he frowns at you with his arms crossed over his chest. "you've got issues.. ma-major issues" you continue to speak. it's the alcohol talking the truth. "ok" he chuckles to himself to remain calm otherwise he'd be angry at you. it wasn't long before he got angry though.

"you're so full of yourself.. you think you're the best but you're just a.. control freak" you giggle, rubbing your red eyes, smudging your mascara. "are you high?" he asks, frowning at you whilst glaring into your clearly stoned eyes. you deny it but now he knows why you were gone for ages.  "who did you smoke weed with?" he asks, walking over to you but you push him away. "none of your business, alex" you say with a messy voice. "don't talk to me like that" he says through gritted teeth as he grabs your arms and pins you against the wall. "or what? you'll hurt me?" you mock him, laughing in his face. he angrily huffs, you're testing his patience.  "you're just.. abusive.. you love hurting your girlfriend" you begin to laugh, there are people constantly walking past the bathroom door so he shuts you up by covering your mouth so nobody would eavesdrop on what you were saying.

"no i don't. you make me hurt you" he angrily but quietly says. "no i don't.. i don't ask you to hit me" you giggle, rubbing your eyes again but he forces your hands down. "i don't hit you" he says with a confused tone on his voice. "ok.. believe whatever you want.. i- i don't care" you say. the alcohol has gotten to your head, making you blurt out things you don't mean to say to him. some things that weren't even true.

"jesus christ, stop talking" he says to you as he let's you of you and backs away. he lets you free roam around the bathroom but he's not gonna let you out. "no.. i won't stop talking.. i hate you, you're a cunt" you begin to raise your voice at him, making him have to shut you up.  he grabs you again, twisting you around so fast, that you stumble over your own feet. his hand is grasped around your mouth from behind as your back leans against his chest. "shut the fuck up. i'm giving you one more chance or i'm taking you upstairs" he sternly whispers in your ear.  "to do what? have sex with me? i'm drunk i can't consent to that" you mumble under his hand. he rolls his eyes at you, letting go of you but keeping a firm grip on your wrist so you won't run away. he opens the door, dragging you to the stairs, shoving you up the first step. you stumble over it, but walk in front of him.

you reached your old bedroom now, alex walks in behind you and closes the door.  "you need to watch your fucking mouth" he points in your face, beginning to argue with you. "no i won't watch my mouth.. my mom doesn't even like you.. she always tells me that- that you have a nasty attitude" you yell at him. "your family brainwashes you all the time. i see how they treat you" alex laughs. he's trying to manipulate you into turning against your family. "what?" you ask, furrowing your eyebrows at him.  he laughs at you to put you down. "you're fucking stupid for not seeing it. they hate you" he yells at you, trying to upset you on purpose.

"no they don't hate me" you yell back at him. "they always say your sister is better than you. they don't care about you" he laughs. you're not even fighting back anymore, you're just standing there taking in what he said.  "everybody uses you.. you're so easy" he tells you. he's making you feel worthless at this point, but he was purposely doing it. "even i use you sometimes, because you're so perfect" he says, looking down at your body. "you bought me up here to take advantage of me, is that it?" you ask, giving him an evil look. "no, i came up here to tell you how fucking stupid you are" he yells the last part at you, pointing in your face. "you're pathetic, y/n" he chuckles, putting his hands on you but you viciously slap him away.

"you're a dick.. you know that?" you roll your eyes. your drunkenness was starting to fade away, all this yapping began to turn you sober. "i know i am" he raises his voice at you. "get out" you say, shoving him back but he grabs you to keep you in your place. "get the fuck outtttt" you yell at him, dragging the last part out. you begin to thrash about as you escape his grip and hit his arm to get him away from you. he slapped your face with force as you gasped and bought your hand to your cheek, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

"aww suck it up you slut" he scoffs seeing tears in your eyes. you ignore him as you sit down on your bed and fondle with your hands in your lap. you start to silently cry to yourself. you both remain silent for a minute until he sits next to you. you look at him and see him glaring at you. "what?" you say quietly with shakiness in your voice. "you look beautiful" he smiles at you to mess with your thoughts.  "i look like a mess" you say, glaring at yourself in the mirror opposite your bed. your hair was messy, your eyes were smudged with mascara and tears. your lipstick was fading away. "a beautiful mess" he chuckles, wrapping his arm around your shoulder rubbing it to comfort you. "hey, don't cry" he says, lightly kissing your cheek. with his other hand he wipes your tears away with his thumb.  "i cant help it" you say with an innocent tone of voice as you look down at your lap, still playing with your hands to distract yourself from anything else.

your anxiety was through the roof, alex only made it worse. he emotionally abused you all the time, he just wants to keep you to himself. all to himself.

alex comforted you for a while before you decided to head back downstairs. you both cuddled for a while, he apologized and you forgave him. you always forgive him, even when you shouldn't. a few minutes later you heard a knock on your bedroom door. you both ignored it, but that's when it opened. "what the fuck are you doing up here? come and join the party" your drunk aunt says, raising a bottle of alcohol in her hand. she notices your smudged makeup and tear stained cheeks and frowns. "why you crying?" she asks you, grabbing your hand to pull you up. now standing up, she pulls you into a hug and you giggle at her.  "nothing, don't worry" you chuckle at her. she hugged you harder until you were both swaying slightly.

she glares at alex still sat on the bed. she opens her arm and invites him into the hug too. "come.. here" she drunkly blurts. he chuckles and stands up, wrapping his arm around your waist and your aunt's to hug you both. "i love you both.. you're my favorite couple here" she says, resting her head on your chest as you and alex lock eyes and snicker at her drunk behavior.

after spending a few more minutes upstairs, your aunt dragged you and alex downstairs for more drinks. you were adamant you weren't going to touch a drop of alcohol today, but you already got wasted once so why not do it again? "chug it.." your aunt says, handing you an open bottle of alcohol. you raise your eyebrows and laugh as your family cheer you on. you bring the bottle to your mouth and start slowly chugging it. once you finished, you threw the bottle over your shoulder and it hit the grass. your family cheered for you and you began to enjoy the rest of your night, putting the petty argument behind you.

alex joined in this time, the pair of you started to get wasted together. you danced, sang and partied for hours on end, until you eventually passed out on the living room sofa.