#idk if it's just happening with me that people never leave comments or if it's just a universal fic thing

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 12

Y'all are getting two chapters today because a little silly someone, won't @ because they haven't asked to be tagged in the tag list and Idk if they'd like the call out but they know who they are, liked every chapter and I loved your little comments so I finished chapter 13 so I can post this chapter only fueled by your excitement 🥰🥹

CW: people are getting their ass beat, so mention of blood and decapitation.

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 12 >>next

With Nolan completely refusing to face anyone lately, and the announcement that the guardians are dead, you had to get away. You couldn’t sit and wait for him, couldn’t cry over the guardians, couldn’t sit by and watch how worried Debbie was every morning when he’d left. You just couldn’t.

So, while Mark went to university with Amber and William, you cashed in your vacation days and let the shadows lead you away over the seas to Romania. Softly landing in the Hoia-Baciu Forest felt—surprisingly—like home.

The whispers of the shadows nudged you around the forest, deeper and deeper, past the oddly shaped trees straight to a burnt circle of land where dried trees grew. Walking past the circle changed the scenery, from gloomy grey trunks to moss-covered, flourishing weeping willows circling a little lake.

Walking back to the edge of the circle, you stuck half of your body out and back observing the change happening right before your eyes. It seemed to be a Midnight City magic dome thing. Inside the dome, it was quite beautiful, the astilbes and the Japanese irises giving some color to the landscape. Your hands softly traced the taller flora as you got closer to the lake, lifting off the ground to move towards the center where a small piece of rock was.

This was a great place for an altar and the shadows greatly approved, too. Sitting on your ass, crisscross apple sauce, you placed your hands on the smooth surface, transfiguring it to expand and even out a bit more.

By the time you were done setting wards so no one could find the place and adding the actual altar and the statues for Lady Gotham and Death it was already so late.

With a small sigh, you place yourself in front of the altar once more. You were never religious, your biological mother didn’t care, Bruce didn’t, the Graysons didn’t- it felt awkward to pray to them. Constantine mentioned that praying to them could just be talking to them, they’re not Yahweh, they’re not Allah, they don’t abide by those rules.

So, you didn’t either. You thanked them for the blessings they gave you, hoped they were well, and told them about your day, leaving them with a bowl of sliced apples and some flowers, deciding to visit the rest of the country while you still had a few days of vacation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Went to Mars, almost got killed by Martians, got the shit beaten out of me for trying to help the Titan, got half of Teen Team- er… the new Guardians in hospital. Also, his one guy in the college was kidnapping male students he saw as peak alpha males and modifying them to essentially turn them into robocops wannabes consisting of no free will and mech bodies, including William’s boyfriend, for the betterment of the human race.” Marks sighs tiredly. “Amber and I broke up and made up again. Told her I’m Invincible… she knew.”

Debbie just looked at her son, before turning to look at you. Maybe she should stop asking how everyone’s day was. “Don’t look at me like that, ma. For once I had a normal day. Visited a lot of places in Romania after finding a little nook for my altar and got some presents for you two and our friends.” You shrug as you take another bite of food. “How was your day?”

Your mother smiles. Well, maybe she shouldn’t, it was the little normality she had in her life. “Sold a penthouse to a billionaire who had a set of all gold teeth.” You snort at that. “That’s one way to show off.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Since sunrise Mark has been searching for his dad and once he did, he immediately tackled him, rolling through the air for a bit before stopping. “Where have you been?! Why haven’t you said anything?” Nolan didn’t get to respond Mark continued. “Are you cheating on mom? Do you have a second family or something?”

“What?! Of course not! Why would you-“ Nolan stutters at the audacity. “Because one day you just decided to up and disappear! You barely come home anymore- Do you even love us anymore? I need you to think about it before you answer- really consider it, because I want you to mean it truthfully- Do you love us?”

The older Viltrumite couldn’t hide the shock, the anguish as he actually thought about it. Loving them meant going against his mission- to a small degree, sure, he could still finish it- but- “Yes... I-I do. I truly love your mother and you deeply. I love your sister just as much. You three are very important to me.”

“Then stop this- nonsense!” Mark waved his arms around. “You’ve been missing for almost two months, barely come home to sleep- You know how paranoid my sister is, she’s making plans over plans on how to take you down because she thinks you snapped and are trying to conquer the planet.”

“She thinks I plan to conquer Earth?” Nolan asks softly, hands clenching at his side. “Yes! She thinks me and mom don’t know but I found her encrypted files- she thinks now that you know the Viltrumites can create offsprings that have powers with humans, you have started making plans to take over. She thinks you killed the Guardians because they could have slowed you down, maybe even stopped you- she thinks you’ll come to me and ask me to help- that you’ll come clean and confess that the Viltrumites are- are these-“

Mark couldn’t finish… How could he? You didn’t come up with these ideas out of thin air- you had evidence. Circumstantial evidence- but it still was so compelling, too many coincidences to be just nothing. “She made plans that could take me down, too. Just in case I would accept to help you- she’s gone mad, dad. And- and I started to believe it too.”

Mark looks at his father, straight in his eyes. “So I need you to come home, to talk to us- I don’t want to believe it- I don’t want to think that you’d ask me to do such bullshit.” The young man clenched his fist. “Please tell me she’s wrong- because if she isn’t- I won’t help you. I’ll do anything to stop yo-“ Mark didn’t finish as Nolan threw a punch, breaking his mask and making him bite his cheek.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Honestly, Eve, I can’t believe you didn’t dump Rex the first time he cheated.” You sipped on your soft drink as you walked with Eve. “I know- It’s just- we both-“ She tried to come up with a reason, just a tiny one to try and keep her pride. “You both got your powers in a lab- yes. I know. That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve the respect of a man. And I can’t believe Kat jumped at the first opportunity- is the ‘not your bestie’s ex’ not in the girl rulebook anymore?”

As Eve opened her mouth to respond to that, what came out was a gasp of shock as her eyes caught the fight happening on the news. “What? Are the news more import-“ As you tuned to look behind you at the TVs in the electronics shop your mouth dropped with the drink you were holding.

The flashing pictures of Mark and the Immortal fighting furiously against Nolan make your blood run cold. The robot cameras that were flying around the men managed to pick up some of the conversation, mostly Immortal furiously yelling but- “This isn’t you! You don’t want to do this! You just feel like you have no choice, but you do!” they caught Mark too.

“Is your dad being mind-controlled?” Eve asks, clearly worried as she looks at you. “No…” Is all you say before you disappear with a breeze of air. It wasn’t a good idea to travel via magic right now. Eve caught a glimpse of Omni-man decapitating The Immortal before she changed into her costume and tried to keep up with you.

Somewhere in space, the League of Justice and Laughing Magician could only watch in terror as the news kept up with the man and his son. “Please don’t… Please don’t try and stop him.” John’s whispered payers were met only with Batman’s suspicious glare. “We should go and help!” Superman’s worried pleas was quickly shut down.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mark couldn’t register everything his father yelled at him as they fought through the air, and he definitely could not after being thrown into the ground and punched twice. But he could answer one question. “You and her… I’d still have you and my sister, dad.” And Nolan hesitated on his third punch. But you didn’t.

Your hit threw Nolan off Mark, making the older man crash into a crater of his own. You didn’t let him get a break. “I trusted you! We all did!” Punch after punch, the ground beneath his head created a bigger and bigger hole. “Mom and Mark love you! I love you! And you go and chose them?!”

You didn’t even notice when John Constantine popped in, almost stumbling through the portal as he ran to your brother, racking his brain for every healing spell he could use. He didn’t care that Bruce would corner him when he went back and interrogate him about this, not when you needed him.

“What is so important about them that we didn’t give you?! You haven’t seen them in years-“ Your yelling cracked as you sobbed, your tears mixing with the blood of the man. Why didn’t he choose you? “Why not us? Why them?! Why are you letting me beat the shit out of you?!” As your hands clenched above your head in a double axe handle motion, ready to turn his face into mush, you’re stopped by your brother’s voice calling your name.

Your fury turns to fear and worry as you look towards him, getting up just to stumble towards him and John. Your tears clouded your vision as you fell to your knees by Mark, gently holding his hand as you inquired about him. “I’m fine- just like, five punches to the head and a throw to the ground.” He croaked out, flinching slightly as his nose set back into place while John continued doing his best to heal the young man.

“In other universes, you either die or get the snot and spline beaten outta ya- this is so much better kid.” Constantine immediately cringes at his words, his eyes meeting yours as he instantly apologizes. “- I should have told you, hen-“

The sound of the sonic boom doesn’t even make you flinch. If Nolan wanted to run away, that was fine by you. “I knew. Nobody is that kind just to help out of the goodness of their hearts.” You said softly, reassuring him with a squeeze of his arm. “I should have done more. Should have told the Guardians or someone about my suspicions, my plans on how to deal with him-”

“You made contingency plans?” At your stutter and confused look, Mark could only laugh, immediately getting what the man meant. The rumors of Batman’s paranoia were true after all. “She even made a few for me in case I accepted.” John huffed in amusement at that. “Well- then we better keep you away from the Bat, he may just adopt you.” Some of the League’s members couldn’t hold in their laughs at the utter disgust your face showed. “With my track record of father figures you better keep the furry as far away from me as possible.” Constantine could hear Hal's laughter from where he sat as she finished speaking.

“We should get going before Cecil shows up.” You sigh while helping Mark get up. “We’re moving again? I just got here…” Eve said as she finally landed, getting Mark’s other side. “You both were hard to find, and I missed everything.”

“No need- I can help with that.” John groans as he gets up, brushing his pants off before he opens a portal to Mark’s home. “Alright, let’s get the lad home.” He lets the kids through first, and before he steps in too, he makes sure to flip off the robot cameras, just for Bruce.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou

[csphire]

I think what really breaks the Solavellan romance in VG for me is how much closure for the Inquisitor is sidelined in favor of Solas's half of the relationship. I get it. Forgiveness is important and it's his lowest moment but after everything Lavellan as a character had to go through and experienced, everything the character canonically loses, there's something off about seeing it all kind of end with an anti-climactic "Lavellan joins him in fade prison so he doesn't have to be alone." It feels almost like she's his reward. I'm glad for some people they like the ending but, man, it just doesn't sit right with me. Who comforts Lavellan over her lost friends? Who is there for her while the blight destroys Southern Thedas? Who helped her adjust to life after the loss of her arm? And unlike with Solas, none of that was the result of her choices or due to mistakes she made. Idk maybe I'm just wildly off base but I feel like while at least some of the writing has compassion for Solas there is none that is tangibly afforded to the Inquisitor. It feels like compared to the Warden and Hawke at least, a Solas-manced Inquisitor gets such a lack of care. They do almost all of the giving and they lose so much but it's never really tangibly acknowledged within the VG romance. people like to say "just head-canon it" but why am I doing the writers job for them? They had this romance span two games and involve a major antagonist, there should have been a more thoughtful and nuanced ending for VG.

I agree, with all the build-up in Trespasser it felt set up for the Inquisitor to play a bigger part in DA4. And out of all of the companions, it also felt like Varric was the one who helped the most, for not just Lavellan but any Inquisitor, to pick up the pieces after Solas left. He gave them a Kirkwall title, and key to the city, and basically rolled out the red carpet to help them feel like they had a place to call home when they would inevitably leave Skyhold behind for good. I feel like he led the charge in tracking down Solas in what I've seen in the comics too. So his death is a gut punch to any Inquisitor but it's just brushed aside and minimized for the plot twist and so a Lavellan can choose to go with Solas into the Fade. Please keep in mind, one thing I've not gotten a clear answer on, as I've not made it so far into the game is, did Rook know Varric was dead when he encourages the Inqusitor to redeem Solas? But on another note, the Veilguard broke at least one rule when it came to party sizes so I don't understand why we could not have broken another rule and had two protagonists to control when it came to dialogue at least. And many of us would have loved to have seen our Inqusitor fighting again as a temporary companion too because so many in the past in FB groups would drop ableist comments on how the Inqusitor cannot fight anymore with just one hand. It sickens me BioWare seemed to double down on this. With all the tough things out there they have handled in the past to address racism, sexism, gay and trans rights they shy away from addressing ableism? Like with Neve if we told her to take it easy because she was hurt at the beginning she could have had a talk with Rook about coddling her because of her artificial leg. But that didn't happen or any comment made about it at all. On one hand not addressing and focusing on her character instead might be cathartic for someone in a similar situation in real life. But honestly, I feel like Neve missing a leg was just put there to silence any criticism of benching the Inquisitor and in your words turning a Lavellan into Solas's reward. But I have seen some comments here and there that Mike did not want a Lavellan happy ending to happen at all. And it was the writers who pushed for it to happen for the sake of the Solas fans. So I sit here with a lot of mixed feelings about the whole thing. Two of my favorite characters in the whole Dragon Age series and one of them murdered the other and it leaves such a bitter taste in my mouth. I don't think Solas should have been so much of an antagonist in Veilguard mainly because he was not in the Inquisition. For me, Solas felt so out of character in Veilguard. Plus what he did ruined any chance for my Lavellan reconciling with him because he's now killed two of his friends one of them a mutual of my Lavellan's. For me at least one does not run off with someone who has a track record like that ten years after he dumped my ass. Plus giving Solas a second chance feels... dirty, like an insult to Varric's memory. That and Lavellan deserves better than to sacrifice her safety, comfort, and possibly even life for Solas at this point. And I hate how the writers and the whole game sets things up that leaves me feeling like that.

[johnsbleu]

so did u guys like the new chapter or....????

[yoohyeon]

Saw that the Tumblr icon on my iPad changed so I went to see what’s up and WE FINALLY CAN REPLY WITH THE BLOG WE WANT !!! THANK YOU !!! Now staff make it so when you block someone it’s block on all sb too thanks I’m tired of blocking 3 times

[astonmartinii]

i love him, it's ruining my life [guilty as sin part one] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

a contract ends, a relationship is exposed and even with everything on the line, she still loves him.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 621,099 others

yourusername: out and about town

view all comments

user1: girl? girl? GIRL?

user2: carlos' career is DEAD AND SHE'S POSTING VACATION PICS ON INSTAGRAM

user3: at least they're cute instagram pics

landonorris: y/n i think it's time you finally take that phone off of do not disturb

yourusername: but that's the perpetual state of my phone i am a poet i was born to be in the woods, if you have news tell me now before i close this app in 20 seconds

landonorris: i don't want to air your brother's business out in a public instagram comments literally just scroll through your timeline idiot

yourusername: wait let me open the family group chat

yourusername: WHAT

user4: are we about to see her reaction to carlos losing his seat in real time?

user5: let me grab my popcorn one sec

yourusername: WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?

landonorris: take your phone off DND for once in your life and maybe you’d be clued in on the news

charles_leclerc: and while you’re at it reply to all the tiktoks i sent you

landonorris: not the time leclerc

charles_leclerc: but but but my tiktoks… i finally got a tarot card reading that resonates

landonorris: NOT THE TIME

charles_leclerc: don’t hate the player hate the game

carlossainz55: really?

charles_leclerc: i am TALKING ABOUT TIKTOKS LEAVE ME ALONE

yourusername: this is a lot - gosh can’t a girl go on holiday without everything imploding (i'll check the tiktoks in a second)

user6: anyone kinda weirded out that charles is just here joking with y/n as if his teammate and her brother hasn’t just been forced out of a job?

liked by carlossainz55

user7: babe he wasn’t forced out of a job, his contract wasn’t renewed. the last time i checked this was a sport where they compete not sit around and sit kumbaya

liked by charles_leclerc

user8: oh! they’re both liking shady comments already, it’s been a day since the announcement

user9: this is gonna get ugly isn’t it?

user10: awful, truly. i’m sat.

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,029,458 others

carlossainz55: love all, trust a few and do wrong to none

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user11: .... right, what ever the fuck that means?

user12: i mean i was just here to celebrate the win what is all this poetry

user11: are we shading charles? lewis? ferrari?

yourusername: shakespeare, really?

carlossainz55: i can read you know

yourusername: oh really, that's news to me

user13: erm you guys i thought the whole job loss thing was meant to bring the family together....

user14: they joke like this all the time this is just sibling banter

user15: idk it's reading a lil more tense than usual, not that there's any reason for that (that we know of)

charles_leclerc: doing the tifosi proud ❤️

carlossainz55: will do while i can

user16: yall .... what happened to the chemistry

user17: they were never friends - pierre tried to tell yall

landonorris: a carlando podium !!! lets do this every week

carlossainz55: golf buddies and podium buddies - you love to see it

landonorris: LETS GO WILD AND PUT IT ON FERRARIS TAB THEY OWE YOU

landonorris: i mean let's celebrate your triumph good pal!

user18: the PR monster got lando :( rip

carlossainz55: just being able to win in front of the most important people in my life is enough

user19: does anyone else think it was weird that y/n wasn't at the race?

user20: like y/n loves australia she litr says that she was an aussie in a past life...

user21: also the most recent carlos comment... is y/n not one of the most important people in his life?

user22: do we think something has happened? like maybe he thought she should've cut her holiday short to come home to support him?

user23: also the fact that her and charles were immediately like joking around with each other? maybe it just rubbed him the wrong way

user24: but not even considering her an important person to him? and also that just seems like he's shifting all the blame to charles when it's ferrari who haven't extended the contract

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 892,309 others

tagged: kellypiquet & yourusername

maxverstappen1: she says she's a professional third wheel, i call that being a LEECH

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user29: unlikely trio but somehow my favourite

user30: y/n really be their overgrown child

yourusername: how am i the leech when i paid for the ice cream mr millionaire 🤨

maxverstappen1: ever thought about how i want to spend quality time with my girlfriend?

yourusername: won't someone think of the children

maxverstappen1: ur 23

yourusername: that's it! p and i are unionising against this if you find suspiciously well drawn crayon graffiti on your walls it was NOT me

maxverstappen1: don't threaten my walls if you still want to come to races

yourusername: low blow 😩

user31: does that mean... she's not going to races with carlos?

user32: she's always been in his garage tho like even with how close her and max have always been SHE'S ALWAYS IN GARAGE 55

user33: i feel like this has something to do with the whole seat situation i'm not sure how but like i think there's something weird going on here

kellypiquet: don't worry @yourusername it might be max's house but it's p that has the final say

yourusername: no one gets bluey like i do

maxverstappen1: yeah but while you're here you get the best seat at the tea party IT'S NOT FAIR

yourusername: well one of us can name all the disney princesses and one of us can't

user34: so.... y/n is living with max? but i thought her and carlos shared an apartment in madrid?

user35: guys i'm so confused

user36: we need the twitter detectives on this asap

charles_leclerc: no lec... when i specifically sent you a PR bundle, you hate to see it

maxverstappen1: you only sent that to us for y/n

charles_leclerc: maybe! but i have it on good authority that you loved the vanilla

maxverstappen1: ummmmmmm no i'm a professional athlete, y/n ate all of it

yourusernames: FALSEHOODS

charles_leclerc: i know who i believe

maxverstappen1: why is everyone ganging up on me in this comment section

user37: charles sending lec to max's house just for y/n WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN

user38: and does it have anything to do with carlos maybe kicking her out

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 673,892 others

yourusername: gotta make sure i give p a reason to tell me stick around

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user39: charles is always in the likes before me and i have notifications on

user40: they seem like such close friends it's so annoying that they're never spotted together at a race and we have no pictures of them :(

charles_leclerc: why do i never get any baked goods i literally sent my ice cream to my arch rivals house just for you

yourusername: you're never in the fucking country that's why

charles_leclerc: i have this kind of demanding job i don't know if you knew

yourusername: i also have the demanding job of being sexy and i cope just fine

charles_leclerc: i heard you got employee of the year, hard to be too upset when you're the competition

yourusername: better luck next time babe

user41: openly flirting with the guy that caused her brother to lose his job, this girl is just shameless

yourusername: do you think charles is the literal ceo of ferrari?

user42: why are you defending charles more than your actual brother?

yourusername: i feel like i gotta make this statement every three buisness days on here but like you people don't know what happens in our personal lives and i can defend my friends if i feel they're being unnecessarily questioned

user43: queen snapped omg

user38: they always be out here trying her like she's not a writer and poet SHE WILL READ YOU FOR FILTH

maxverstappen1: pretty sure she'd replace you with me in like two seconds so you're safe until [redacted] gets home

yourusername: i'm pretty sure with the right campaign i could sway jimmy and sassy to my side as well

user44: who the FUCK IS REDACTED

maxverstappen1: wouldn't you like to know 🤨

yourusername: max ???

maxverstappen1: what? i didn't have friends growing up i like that you tell me secrets

yourusername: oh :(

maxverstappen1: you wanna tell me more?

yourusername: NO YOU ALREADY KNOW THE BIGGEST ONE

maxverstappen1: true 💅🏻

user45: so like the secret is defo a relationship right?

user46: do we think carlos knows?

user47: by the fact that he's not in these comments... probably not

user48: so like he looses his seat and finds out his sister is in a secret relationship? someone give the guy a break

user49: or maybe, just maybe, there's a reason that y/n hasn't told carlos and he's not the guy we all think he is

liked by charles_leclerc

user50: OH? this war is so on ....

f1teaspill

liked by user51, user52 and 31,845 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

f1teaspill: the war at ferrari is heating up... turns out there's a lot carlos didn't know and FOR YEARS. yes, you're reading that right, y/n sainz and charles leclerc have been in a relationship for at least two years and believe us we have a VERY credible source like WITHIN THE FAMILY level source.

the most important thing about this whole relationship is how carlos did not know for years, so how much more was hidden from him? did y/n know about the seat swap for lewis? was she leaking strategies to charles? was she sabotaging her own brother?

view all comments

user53: OH SHITTTTTTTTTT

user54: cancel me if you will but i think the hottest couple in f1 just dropped

user55: the fact we've been robbed of content of them for years .... i'm angry I NEED THE POETRY ABOUT CHARLES

user56: i'm gonna need y/n or charles to drop all the pics in response

user57: y'all a source "within the family"? did these fools find out about y/n's relationship and immediately run to an f1 TEA PAGE???

user58: that's some goofy ass shit

user59: i find it funny that instead of sitting down and thinking about why their daughter/sister didn't feel comfortable enough to tell you about her relationship they're like i know EXACTLY who needs to hear this

user60: the way it's proved her completely right to not tell them

user61: do you guys think this is like a tv show or like fan fiction? in what world is y/n sharing strategies to fuck over her own BROTHER?

user62: also be for fucking real... strategies? ferrari? at least try and be realistic

user63: also.... walk with me .... why would y/n and charles conspire to put lewis hamilton in carlos' seat? LEWIS FUCKING HAMILTON AND SEVEN TIME WORLD CHAMPION? WHY WOULD CHARLES WANT TO TAKE HIM ON OVER A GUY HE'S ALREADY BEATEN TWICE

user64: see this is the point! sainz camp you can try and demonise charles and yOUR OWN DAUGHTER all you want but we all know it's bull shit

user65: one thing about this that really rubs me the wrong way is that the sainz camp clearly expected that if y/n was in a relationship with charles that she would've been a double agent for carlos? and because she's not fucking insane they're now going for character assassination of their own SISTER/DAUGHTER

user66: THIS THIS THIS

user67: carlos won't even consider y/n an "important" person in his life but expect her to sacrifice or exploit her relationship for cheap psychological points

user68: also y/n isn't even at most races so how is she getting carlos' strategies to give to charles? this shit doesn't make any sense

user69: carlos himself has said in an interview that y/n is useless when it comes to racing that she's just a supportive figure rather than someone who has any in depth racing knowledge

user70: this is insane level hating with all the evidence out here... and against your own family...

user71: this just makes me think that y/n wasn't in australia for a reason - like was she banned from carlos' garage

user72: and the fact she's been staying at max's it just makes me think that y/n was kicked out of her and carlos' apartment

user73: now tHATS INSANE

espnf1

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 1,025,788 others

tagged: carlossainz55, charles_leclerc & yourusername

espnf1: well... this could be awkward

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user77: espn babe you're just like me

user78: *slides $5 across the bar* get a camera in the ferrari garage?

espnf1: we're working on it 😩

user79: pierre and max here... they really are the paddock gossip girls

maxverstappen1: i guess carlos couldn't handle that i knew who redacted was before him 🤷🏻‍♂️

carlossainz55: really?

maxverstappen1: don't put your sister on the streets and i won't dunk these jokes on your head

user80: is this like the official f1 civil war?

carlossainz55: you don't know anything max, i'd really keep your nose out of our business

maxverstappen1: i actually know exactly how you guys move, you tried it on 17 year old me and it becomes my business when my best friend calls me with no where else to go (also i know you changed the locks while you were in maranello so she wouldn't be able to go to charles, you're not slick)

carlossainz55: i never took you as a lap dog max

yourusername: calling him the lap dog when you're the biggest bitch on the grid - bold

carlossainz55: you're burning a lot of bridges for a talentless slut who had to start fucking my teammate when we cut you off

yourusername: keep throwing your PR to the fire and see who fucking hires you, i guess we'll both be unemployed bums

user80: also imagine calling her talentless like she isn't a well established poet LOL

user81: guys this is getting so bad so quickly

user82: we got the whole rest of the season of this

user83: mad respect to max for sticking up for his bestie

user84: and her actual boyfriend isn't?

yourusername: charles will do his talking on the track like he always does. he won't debase himself with bickering in instagram comments, funnily enough ferrari don't like that - might be the reason he still has a seat and someone doesn't

carlossainz55: or he's a pussy who has his woman talk for him

yourusername: at least he has a woman to talk for him, he doesn't behind his dad at any sign of trouble. i've always known i didn't matter to dad the moment i wasn't a boy but i'm not afraid of him or you and i know exactly how you work. good luck

user85: do they know we can all read this?

user86: when i'm in an oversharing contest and the sainz siblings walk in

user87: those ferrari debriefs are gonna be AWKWARD

yourusername: especially since he doesn't have binotto to hide behind any more

user88: girl you good?

yourusername: i've never been better, this has been building for years even before charles and i got together

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 908,487 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: i love you, it's ruining my life

view all comments

user89: y/n i'm gonna let you finish but we could really get the best poetry out of all of this

user90: for real like yeah i'm sorry your brother tried to make you homeless, exposed your relationship, accused you of treason and called you a talentless slut - but think of the poetry!

charles_leclerc: i love you and i hope you're okay

yourusername: i'll always be okay with you

charles_leclerc: it's out now and no one can take us away from each other

charles_leclerc: i'd actually love to see them try

yourusername: i'd go through this fortnight of hell over and over again if it meant i'd still keep you

charles_leclerc: i'd like to say this is the end of it but i think we're in for the long run now

yourusername: i'm prepared to go to war for you

charles_leclerc: there's no one i'd rather be on the front lines with

user91: oh brother... YOU'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH A POET WE GET IT

charles_leclerc: * in love with

user91: oh my bad

charles_leclerc: no worries

user91: STILL GROSS BRO

liked by maxverstappen1

charles_leclerc: max ???

maxverstappen1: you guys need to calm down cause i'm not good with words and kelly is gonna start scrutinising my cards and i DO NOT HAVE THE VOCABULARY FOR IT

yourusername: lol

maxverstappen1: lol? LOL? did our brief yet forced stint as roommates mean nothing?

yourusername: fine i'll ghostwrite your valentines cards

user92: so this is all a bit melodramatic

user93: he CHANGED THE LOCKS BRO SHE HAS THE RIGHT TO BE MELODRAMATIC

liked by charles_leclerc

user94: okay so now we're in full blown f1 civil war - who is on each side?

user95: well max and pierre are on charles' side. i'd also add in lewis, seb, oscar, esteban, george, alex, yuki and daniel

user96: so carlos has lando and fernando?

fernandoalo_oficial: it might not be blood but that's my daughter

user96: ????

user97: did he just show up to diss carlos and then refuse to elaborate?

user98: sounds like a nando thing to do .... also just leaves carlos with lando lol

user99: this feels a bit unfair

yourusername: all is fair in love and poetry

fin.

note: so as soon as i had this idea (litr TTPD release day) i have been so busy and WHACKED with the worst writer's block but i hope this is a good start and rest assured knowing the beef will only get worse... I LOVE DRAMA

note: hiii extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx

taglist: @aadu2173 @rhythmstars @kqliie @booksandflowrs @2bormaybenot @firelily-mimi @evie-119

[5sospenguinqueen]

Growing Pains Pt 2 | Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: Oscar thought leaving was the best thing for you, but quickly realised he cannot function without you.

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Suggestive content.

2024 season. Childhood sweethearts. No facelaim, just rando Pinterest pics

This acc just ended up being Landoscar fluff because I consumed too much of them after Silverstone lol

F1 Masterlist

prev.

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

mclaren just posted

liked by aussiegrit, ln4 and others

mclaren oscar’s post race interviews #bahraingp 

2,559 comments

mclaren please enjoy some clips of our aussie talking about the one aspect of his life NOT involved with his job

→ user1 did mclaren just hard launch a relationship?

→ user2 no because why did they post clips that specifically don’t mention a name

→ user3 yes but the familiarity of the way he’s talking about this girl must mean it’s one he’s known since he was 14???

danielricciardo caught simping in 4k

thisisnotyn oscar sweaty got me feeling some kind of way 

charles_leclerc oh god, that goofy smile is back. i know what that means

→ maxverstappen1 he’s going to start yapping more than i do

→ user4 what do you know?!

alex_albon mate, i’m not going to lie, i don’t think we can defend you from this anymore

→ oscarpiastri you sent me memes of my face. you have never defended me

→ georgerussell63 join the club. wait until he sends you reaction gifs 

→ landonorris i love getting those 

YourUserName pookie 

→ user5 um, is she calling oscar pookie?

→ user6 well, it’s not going to be lando. he was only in one of the clips 

→ user7 idk, we don’t know what happened between them. it could’ve been a bad breakup and she might be trying to piss them off

→ landonorris ew, no. it’s not me. they made up weeks ago btw. no way osco would’ve lasted this long without his yn

→ YourUserName what do you mean ew! you’d be lucky to have me

→ danielricciardo no he wouldn’t

oscarpiastri i also talked a lot about my performance in the race

→ landonorris and where is that footage, huh??? funny how it doesn’t exist 

→ oscapiastri yn says you’re not allowed to tag along to date night anymore because you insulted both of us 

→ landonorris :(

→ user8 what do you mean he tagged along on date night?

→ user9 why are we skipping past the fact that lando confirmed that they’re back together

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YourUserName just posted

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and others 

YourUserName ladies, get a boyfriend who looks at you the way Oscar looks at Lando (actually, can you get me one first because mine seems to be broken) 

1,142 comments

oscarpiastri whoa, you told me i was a handsome boy. that photo doesn’t look like a handsome boy 

→ YourUserName some people are into the serial killer eyes. not me though, that’s why i’m asking the fans to find me a new bf

→ logansargeant i’ll help

→ user10 we know which side logan is choosing in the divorce 

landonorris how does it feel to know that your boyfriend likes me more 

→ YourUserName i know how to cut brake lines

→ landonorris 😰😰

→ mclaren yn, please don’t threaten our drivers

→ YourUserName hey, i’ll take them both out if they don’t end their affair 

→ oscarpiastri and here i was thinking you would cut his brake lines so i could get on the podium instead 

→ YourUserName sure, we can go with that

user11 can we take a moment to enjoy the fact that they’ve been back together for 4 months and he’s still letting her bully him

→ YourUserName i’m riding the guilt trip until the very end 

→ oscarpiastri i love you

→ YourUserName i know

→ landonorris but not as much as he loves me! 

→ YourUserName i know where you sleep

→ landonorris yeah, with your boyfriend!

→ oscarpiastri don’t tell the internet that! 

danielricciardo lando used to look at me that way

→ YourUserName i think we should start a spurned wags group

→ danielricciardo i’ll bring the wine

→ YourUserName i’ll bring the lightning mcqueen crocs

→ liamlawson30 can i join?

oscarpiastri sweetheart, you know you’re the light of my life

→ YourUserName didn’t feel that way when you guided lando away from a puddle and let me put my foot right in it

→ oscarpiastri i gave you my socks! 

→ YourUserName they were sweaty

→ oscarpiastri it’s all i had… 

→ mclaren yn, please stop bullying him. we can hear him crying from his driver’s room

→ user12 no because the fact that the majority of mclaren admin’s online interactions are just begging yn to behave 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

oscarpiastri just posted

liked by logansargeant, YourUserName and others

oscarpiastri when you say date night and she says I’m not putting pants on 

2,329 comments

YourUserName thank you for sharing your pizza with me after i burnt mine <3

→ oscarpiastri i can’t wait to share more with you

landonorris did she hide in your neck at the scary parts 

→ oscarpiastri no she fucking laughed at the way he was running

→ landonorris you cuddled into her neck at the scary parts, didn’t you 

→ oscarpiastri i plead the fifth

→ YourUserName it’s okay, princess, you know i’ll always protect you 

logansargeant no because they had their ‘date night’ 3 days ago and the paintings they did of each other are hanging in their bathroom, and when i tell you they were a shock to the system

→ user13 logan, show them to us, please

YourUserName it’s not my fault that it’s hard to keep pants on when you’re around 

liked by oscarpiastri

→ mclaren we talked about this 

→ landonorris my eyes! 

→ user14 @ aussiegrit come get your kids

→ YourUserName don’t tag him in it. mark still thinks i’m nice

→ oscarpiastri no, he knows you’re a gremlin

arthur_leclerc not you trying to pretend that you are romantic when you asked me for all of those ideas

→ YourUserName oh really?

→ oscarpiastri i had a whole night planned and you decided you didn’t want to go out!

→ alex_albon no because you really had him stressing

→ georgerussell63 he was even messaging the grid group chat 

→ danielricciardo he had a whole group of guys debating the best alternative to rose petals

→ YourUserName because i don’t like roses 🥹 oh, osc. it was perfect

→ oscarpiastri 🤍🤍

→ user15 anyone else finding this suspicious

charles_leclerc a date night to remember, i’m sure. and not for the lack of pants 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

user1 rough night in the piastri house, he’s upset mom and wifey 

arthur_leclerc welcome to the family, oscar. please don’t bring yn with you

→ YourUserName you’re just jealous that i didn’t want dinner with you 

→ maxverstappen1 wait, i thought i was your favourite. why don’t you want dinner with me?

→ charles_leclerc you are welcome for dinner anytime, yn

→ oscarpiastri see, what you’ve done. now lestappen are fighting. you promised to keep your crushes to yourself

user2 i love how now that oscar is past his rookie year, his true personality of being a gremlin has come out 

→ user3 now that shy oscar has gone we’re seeing just how well he pairs with yn

→ arthur_leclerc and i can guarantee the grid are missing shy oscar. i have had to put up with this since 2021

→ georgerussell63 i can confirm we do

→ logansargeant now you understand why i prefer to be quiet. if you don’t talk, they can’t bully you 

→ georgerussell63 my name on yn’s phone is amelia georgehart 

→ oscarpiastri we’ve been together for years and mine is peestri pants, count yourself lucky

→ YourUserName lando’s is just fucker. 

→ landonorris the full stop included? 

nicolepiastri i have some questions 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

YourUserName just posted

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux and others

YourUserName weekends away with you  

1,012 comments

YourUserName thank you for a lovely weekend away from the madness. i could spend forever with you in our little bubble 

→ danielricciardo oh wow so you’re both simps?

→ YourUserName look away! i have a reputation to maintain

→ oscarpiastri no you don’t. you luuuuurve me

landonorris i can’t believe you left me behind 

charles_leclerc remove your head from that poor girl’s shirt. i raised you better than that

pierregasly someone convince kiks to do this with me. she refuses to go camping

→ francisca.cgomes because neither of us would survive sleeping on the ground

→ oscarpiastri neither would yn if not for the fact that we camped in the back garden

→ YourUserName why would i want to go somewhere without a functioning toilet! 

logansargeant where is your shirt. nobody wants to see that 

→ YourUserName i think you’ll find that i did 

→ oscarpiastri she’s a big fan

mclaren please come back, we miss you 

→ oscarpiastri yn says she still has another weekend before she has to return me

→ mclaren we were talking to yn

→ YourUserName miss you too, boo 🧡

→ landonorris why don’t you speak to me like that 

→ YourUserName ‘cause you stole my osc

→ oscarpiastri no one could take me from you 

user4 no because that last pic screams engagement photo and i don't know why

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charles_leclerc just posted

liked by arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others

charles_leclerc i am an incredibly proud father right now  

10,226 comments

oscarpiastri in other words, i convinced the prettiest girl in the world to marry me 

→ YourUserName and now i have the prettiest husband in the world 

user5 how is lando taking oscar looking at someone else that way?

→ landonorris not well

→ danielricciardo he cried the whole day

→ YourUserName that’s why i gave him my flowers

→ landonorris no i earnt those!

→ lilymhe yeah, i still have the bruises! 

user6 miss rabbit has fainted 

YourUserName i enjoyed our father-daughter dance

→ fernandoalo_official @ aussiegrit the monegasque is trying to steal our children

→ oscarpiastri now i’m in trouble with mark

→ YourUserName i’ll make it up to you on our honeymoon

→ oscarpiastri 😳☺️

user6 fuck you to all the bitches who said they wouldn’t last because they’ve never dated anyone else

mclaren what a beautiful couple. i think we need to put those up around MTC

→ YourUserName i think zak would really appreciate them in his office

→ oscarpiastri what makes you think i haven’t already put them up around MTC. gotta keep my wife with me wherever i go

→ YourUserName stop making me giggle 

user7 definition of soulmates 

arthur_leclerc welcome to the family, yn. even though i asked oscar to leave you behind when he was adopted 

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YourUserName just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

YourUserName i made something 

10,229 comments

nicolepiastri and an amazing job you did, sweetheart

→ YourUserName i love you 💗

→ user8 nicer to mama piastri than she is to her own husband 

oscarpiastri i helped

→ YourUserName you contributed for like 2 seconds

→ oscarpiastri stop being mean to me or i may fall in love with you 

→ landonorris 2 second wonder

→ YourUserName you would know

charles_leclerc i’m too handsome to be a grandpapa 

→ YourUserName certified gilf 

→ oscarpiastri i cannot believe you made me read that. i thought you were better than this

→ YourUserName whoa, i have never been better than this and you know that but i can blame it on baby hormones this time

→ charles_leclerc and oscar will let you get away with it

→ oscarpiastri damn right. she just had my baby

landonorris does this mean i get the chance to win godfather of the year

→ danielricciardo don’t tell me they actually named you godfather. you can barely keep yourself alive

→ logansargeant yn got to pick me so oscar was given the choice to pick the other

→ oscarpiastri we made the decision together as loving parental unit 

→ YourUserName the decision was made whilst i was high on gas and motherly love 

→ oscarpiastri stop making it sound like i coerced you

→ YourUserName you had your top off! of course i was coerced. piastitties

→ mclaren yn, no

oscarpiastri sweetheart, i have loved you every day since we were 14 and being by your side these past 9 months, watching you go through such a monumental change, only proved that it was possible for me to love you even more. i can’t wait to see our family grow 💕

→ YourUserName i love you so much, oscie. from growing with you to growing our own mini us, i’d go through all the pain again for forever with you

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Hi, guys. If you have requested previously, I promise they're coming. I've just got them added to my list

Baby Fever Angst Series

Tag list

@barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @leclercsluvs @weekendlusting @urdad-hot @lemon-lav @rosecentury @peachiicherries

[algae-tm]

SUMMER LOVIN’

Charles Leclerc x Reader

You and Charles fall in love in St.Lucia (one shot)

Warnings: none?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

INSTAGRAM

youruser

liked by yourbffuser, and 124 others

youruser: you think you just fell out of a coconut tree???🥥

view all comments

yourbffuser: HELLO??!! Who is the man????

- youruser: what man?

- yourbffuser: now i KNOW you aren’t serious. in the second pic!!!!

- youruser: oh him… that’s pookie 😋🤭

- yourbffuser: count your motherfuckin days

yoursisteruser: you collect white men like pokemon smh

- youruser: gotta catch ‘em all!! 😏😤

-yoursisteruser: sigh

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and 1,234,432 others

charles_leclerc: St. Lucia 🌊☀️

view all comments

user1: why is he so boyfriend coded in the 2nd pic?

- user2: don’t be alarmed bestie but it might have something to do with the literal girl he’s holding hands with in the 3rd pic…

landonorris: is this what the youth call a soft launch?

-charles_leclerc: you are the youth

carlossainz55: ay who’s the girl?

— charles_leclerc: No one and everyone

— user1: wtf does this mean 😭 😭

— user5: why is this simultaneously the dumbest yet most romantic thing I’ve ever read, and I have a boyfriend 😭

— user6: girl- tell your boyfriend to step up or leave him… the bar is in literal hell. — user7: bro releases a couple songs and thinks he’s cool and mysterious

youruser just posted

liked by yourbffuser, and 129 others

youruser: cute solo travel idea- get a man to take you places

view all comments

yourbffuser: two posts with the same guy? I fear we’ve lost her

- youruser: NOOOO I’m still a bad bitch, I’m licensed and everything!!

- yoursisteruser: heartbreaker turns into lover girl… story for the ages

yoursisteruser: who is he???? Your fans want to know!!

—youruser: just a cute monegasque

—yoursisteruser: is that a cheese or something?

— youruser: a place apparently… he gets stroppy when I call him French 🤷🏾‍♀️

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,456,789 others

charles_leclerc: summer lovin’ happened so fast

view all comments

user4: two posts with what I’m guessing is the same girl… please twitter users starts sleuthing!!

— user5: or, hear me out, bit of a wild suggestion, just let them be?

— user3: do you think they were together b4, or he found her on holiday??

— user4: wait holdup I didn’t even think of the possibility that this could be just a vacation romance you’re so right @user3

— user5: why do I even bother with these people

pierregasly: day 67895 of asking you to tell me who she is!!

— user53: lmao Pierre is one of us confirmed

— user43: close! He actually knows Charles personally so no he isn’t one of you

— user53: now what did I do to you? 😭

youruser just posted

liked by yourbffuser, yoursisteruser and 150 others

youruser: bye bye bye you were bigger than the whole sky…

view all comments

yourbffuser: oh pooks

yoursisteruser: glad to know you have a heart

— youruser: bite me

— yourbffuser: time and place, bestie @yoursisteruser

MESSAGES

SIX MONTHS LATER

MESSAGES

3 MONTHS LATER

INSTAGRAM

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by lewishamilton, arthur_leclerc and 5,234,432 others

charles_leclerc: mine mine mine mine mine mine mine

(tagged youruser)

view all comments

lewishamilton: nice to see it brother! You know what they say

— youruser: once you go black!

— lewishamilton: I was gunna say the course of true love never did run smooth…

— youruser: mine works better!!

— user4: lmao she’s hilarious

— user5: and just as chaotic as Charles 😭 they’re made for eachother

—user6: idk I think he needs someone more introverted… she’s attention seeking (this user was blocked by charles_leclerc)

—charles_leclerc: blocked 🤭😙

—youruser: my man, my man, my man!

landonorris: she’s gorgeous

— charles_leclerc: why do you live to cause me distress??

georgerussell63: blimey, was only yesterday you told us you never got her number

— maxverstappen1: very stupid

— danielricciardo: Max be nice

— maxverstappen1: sorry

carlossainz55: well done cabron!

youruser: mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine

arthur_leclerc: she’s lovely

— charles_leclerc: isn’t she just

•••••••••••••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee

@callsignwidow

@a-beaverhausen

@emryb

@c0deincrazy

@dontworryaboutitokie

@c-losur3

@chuxk-lerclerk

@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

[bitchthefuck1]

Genuinely cannot fathom how this woman's mind works, it'll be a genuine miracle if I don't kms before the year ends

The universe saw me finally getting out of a toxic social circle and moving away from my family and said let's balance this out by giving her a manager with the poorest communication skills known to man

[talkbycolor]

mushroom oasis headcanons . . . ↷

A/N; im very sensitive about mychael too, oops

Pairing; "Mychael" x GN!Reader

CW; idk alien sex (jk) / this is actually cute, dont worry

Mychael as your boyfriend.

I just know that he likes to listen to ABBA with you and dance in the mornings when making breakfast or at night before going to sleep.

He purrs at bedtime, especially if you pet his hair.

You can caress his horns, they are softer than they look but also sensitive, be delicate

After a while of relationship, he could no longer avoid the growing guilt he felt and told you about the mushrooms in the forest and the brainwashing he did to you at the beginning.

Definitely identifies with Roar's "Christmas Kids" song.

Be thankful he doesn't have an internet connection or he'd make Deez Nuts cringe jokes.

He is the perfect person for fairycore, you have already begged him to do makeup together, even though he didn't need any of that.

He likes to feel safe, silly and childish with you, having learned to take care of himself since… well, always, it was a drain on the soul. what a relief to his heart to be able to be childish with you, like a break.

He still has certain self-esteem problems, his eyes always dilate when you say nice things about him (or when he's about to jump and attack ((kiss you)))

It's not like Mychael is an uncivilized being, but you've taken the time to teach him several things on dates you've had, things that perhaps he didn't know due to his isolation from society.

You're actually a little scared of what could happen if they discover Mychael's existence, so if you live together it will be in the forest.

Sometimes he is selfish and brainwashes you when he wants more kisses or just feels too needy to let you go out with your friends.

For him there is no such thing as breaking up, he will beg you for answers and ask countless times what the problem is or what you want him to change, as a last resort he would brainwash you so that you stay by his side, even if it's like a shell.

"They were 20 and decided to end their life just like this. They went up to the 21st floor and left without saying "goodbye." I wonder if when they were flying through the air they remembered… ..I once told him if you kill yourself I'm gonna kill myself too!" Basically Mychael not being able to continue with his life alone once he meets MC, if you leave, so does he.

The first time you had sex, bro, Mychael almost had to be chained up, he acted like a spoiled kid when he tried his new favorite candy.

Mychael composes songs for MC, he will even try to get new instruments, new talents, anything to entertain his firefly and have them stay in the forest with him.

Is the kind of old-fashioned sculpted lover, don't doubt that you will look like a 60-year-old couple with 3 chickens and a dog, your wish is his command. If you can't go out to eat at an elegant restaurant, he will get a recipe book to prepare the best dishes and put candles on the table. If you don't have new clothes, he will knit what you like. If you don't like the color of the cabin, he will paint everything as many times as necessary.

Physically? Mychael will never hurt you, using guilt as manipulation is not to his liking either, he loves you too much so he will only wash your brain to have a perfect life by your side, don't worry, you are safe from the world and you will have healing caresses every night , even if it is not today, if it is not tomorrow, you will learn to need it on your own and stay at will.

Mychael is terrified of people, the opinion of the masses made him think of himself as a monster and he can't help but blurt out little comments mocking his own appearance. Being with you makes him forget what he is. Why was he surprised? Because you didn't look away.

His saliva is a little salty and something tells me that he produces goo when he is excited, trust me (delulu)

♡

[hard-core-super-star]

you could love me if i knew how to lie [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x stark!reader

summary: after spending all your teenage years engaged in a somewhat unserious rivalry, kate bishop makes her way back into your life as the last thing you need: a security guard. maybe it'll be the push you need to admit your feelings for her...or maybe just an excuse to bicker with her.

warnings: none, i think?; brief mentions of past hookups; slight angst? [idk if it counts]; lots of bickering; a sprinke of exposition; tipsy confession; kate is totally NOT jealous; did not proofread this enough :/

wordcount: 2.9k

a/n: HI! so, a long while ago i wrote a mini-fic about kate and stark!reader. my plan was to turn that mini-fic into a full fic because i never liked how it turned out BUT instead...i wrote a sequel, set way further into the future [or i guess, the canon timeline?]. anyway, tony is dead, kate is hawkeye 'cause clint is fully retired, and she's the sole CEO/owner of bishop security while R is the CEO of stark industries. i'm planning to mess around more with this AU so let me know what you think! hope you enjoy, see you next time <3

* * * * * * *

Kate Bishop was a pain in your ass.

There was no other way to put it. No way to sugarcoat the place the brunette occupied in your life.

Sure, maybe you were being petty. Maybe there was no real reason for both of you to be at each other's throats besides your own competitive nature and your dad's penchant for snarky comments about his business rivals.

Then again, the young CEO wasn't exactly a rival. At least, not ever since she took over for her mom...and since Tony Stark died. A fact you try not to think about most days.

Needless to say, things haven't been the same since the snap. Since those five years came and went, leaving behind nothing but pain, confusion, and regret. Enough regret to fill up the entirety of Stark Tower with it.

Maybe losing your dad should have made you more grateful to be alive. To have the opportunity to help the world rebuild after Thanos. Maybe it would have had you not ended up just as cynical as Tony.

All you could think about was what you lost. The people and things you'd never be able to get back.

Maybe it was that train of thought that led you to take over Stark Industries. Sure, Pepper wanting nothing to do with the place had a lot to do with it too, but you could have let it go. Could have allowed her to sell it to Eleanor Bishop or whoever else she wanted to.

But you were just as stubborn as your dad. Maybe even more, considering how much you loved hanging out with Natasha and Steve.

So, instead of walking away like you should have, you took over the company. While you weren't exactly sure what running a company of this level entailed, you were your father's daughter and you had more than enough of his smarts to figure out what to do.

At least, you thought you did until some wannabe super villain threatened you.

You didn't think much of it when it happened, you were used to stupid threats made by even stupider people. It never amounted to anything in your experience so you didn't think twice when you decided to "respond" to the threats.

The response in question being a very unserious, sarcastic remark that earned you the front page of the New York Times. Naturally.

Unbeknownst to you, your little stunt also earned you the attention of your old "rival" turned superhero. Everything you'd heard about Kate had come from Yelena and your attempts at hacking her computer.

The years that had gone by didn't seem to matter to the brunette, though, at least considering the ease with which she broke into your apartment. You'd be surprised if you didn't know she was just as good at hacking as you. (Maybe Yelena had a point when she told you that you needed a security update, but you'd never admit that outloud.)

You let out the loudest sigh of your life when you walk into your living room only to find Kate Bishop herself standing in the middle of it, dorky superhero suit and all.

"Dang, don't look so excited," she says, the corners of her lips quirking up into a small smirk. Despite her efforts, you know her nervous tells too well to be fooled by her fake nonchalance.

"Don't sound so hurt," you reply. "You can't tell me you were expecting me to be happy to see you after everything."

The shrug your words receive looks so natural you almost believe her act. You know better than that, though. "I thought that's exactly why you wouldn't mind seeing me. It's been a long time."

She's not exactly wrong. As annoying as she can be, you have missed her. Going to boring, fancy events isn't the same when she's not there to bicker with you. Maybe it's childish, but it's the only thing you've known when it comes to the brunette.

Just long arguments over ridiculously expensive appetizers and loaded glances across ballrooms. That's all your relationship with her will ever be.

"Yeah, five years to be exact," you say, not even trying to hold in your bitterness. "Not that you ever showed any concern about what happened."

Her eyebrows furrow slightly, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she stumbles over her response. "I...didn't think you needed me to-"

"I didn't need you," you correct her, already feeling your blood boil. "I just thought you had a shred of decency. Guess I was wrong, hooking up with anything with a pulse seemed much more important to you."

Her jaw clenches, and you hate the rush of satisfaction you get from the sight. After what the two of you have been through, the last thing you should be doing is pushing her buttons, and yet here you are. As stupid as it may be, some things never change.

"You're the one that turned me away the last time I tried caring," she says, her voice far more serious than usual.

The reminder she sends your way is the last thing you need right now. Even though you know she's not doing it to hurt you, it still stings. Mainly because she's the one who never returned your calls. She's the one who continued hooking up with other people after spending the night wrapped up in your arms.

"A drunken hookup isn't exactly "caring", Katherine."

The brunette groans in response, throwing her head back in frustration and allowing you to see the long column of her throat. For a split second, you come up with a different idea to work through your frustrations. As appealing as it sounds, you know it'll just make things worse.

"How are you still so insufferable?" Kate asks, her voice straddling the line between annoyed and amused.

You shrug. "It's a skill."

Her annoyance seems to clear for a second, like clouds parting to make way for the shining sun. "Yeah, right. You're something else, that's for sure."

Her words are technically a tease, but they soften you up all the same. They shouldn't, they should infuriate you, make you want to throw her out of your apartment and never talk to her again. They don't, though.

But instead of showing it, you decide to change the topic. The sooner you figure out what the hell she wants, the quicker she'll leave you and your bitter past with her alone.

"What do you want, Kate?" You ask with a sigh.

Her eyes linger on your face for a second too long before she answers. "Nothing. I'm just here to keep an eye on you before you do something else stupid."

"I don't need a guard dog," you reply.

She rolls her eyes, matching your energy far too quickly for your liking. "I'm not a dog, but you do need a guard. Running your mouth like that is only going to get you hurt."

You scoff. "I can handle myself just fine."

"Sorry, princess, I have direct orders from Yelena to keep you safe until this all blows over."

Of course, Yelena sent the archer to you. You're not sure if it's truly an "Avengers" thing, or if it's simply the Russian being an overprotective friend. Either way, there's no way for you to get rid of Kate which means...you're stuck with her, whether you like it or not.

"Fine," you huff, sounding far too much like your teenage self. "But don't think this means you're forgiven or anything. We're still not friends."

Even though a smile tugs at her lips, there's no mistaking the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. The longing you know all too well. "Yeah, I know."

As weird (and slightly uncomfortable) as it is, you move toward your kitchen with the archer following right on your tail. You're not a fan of the idea, or of having her breathing down your neck all the time, but complaining will just make things more difficult. And even though you're particularly known for being difficult, you're actually trying to not make things worse.

It's much easier said than done and yet...you and Kate actually start working toward some sort of normal. Well, there's nothing normal about having her following behind you like a puppy all the time but you can't say you don't like it.

You vow to not admit it, to not let her know just how nice it is to be around her. Just how much you've missed seeing her.

You're pretty sure it's your worst kept secret but thankfully, Kate can be quite oblivious most of the time. It's probably something to do with how much attention her constant rambling requires.

However, after weeks of keeping your act together, of pretending like you don't notice the looks she sends your way or the constant brushing of her hand against yours, you break. Or well, she breaks.

Despite her attempts at trying to keep you inside, you go out to bar with a few people from Stark Industries, using the excuse of some stupid business meetings to convince her. She knows it's a stupid excuse. That despite your insistance that you're there to talk business, you're really just looking for a way to put some distance between you.

It's not the worst plan in the world, and, at first, it works perfectly. Kate escorts you into the bar and then leaves you alone with your friends, giving you space to go back to some sort of normality even while the threat of someone attacking you lingers as a possibility.

Ultimately, it's not an attacker who approaches you during your night out. It's simply a decently dressed guy that tries far too hard to charm you.

He ignores your attempts at kindly declining the drink he offers to buy you and when his hand wraps a bit too tightly around your arm, Kate appears at your side.

"We should go," she says, her tone leaving no room for arguments.

The insistent guy opens his mouth to try but before he even knows what's happening, the brunette peels his hand off of you and leads you away.

You're not necessarily mad about it, the guy was being way too annoying and slightly creepy. That being said...you're also not about to let Kate think she can step in like that when she's not told to.

You try to escape from her grip but she simply holds on tighter, looking back to glare at you as she continues leading you through the throng of people.

"Kate," you warn, easily meeting her glare with one of your own. "What are you doing?"

The way her grip on you tightens is telling enough but you need to hear the words from her lips. "That guy was flirting with you."

You barely hold back the urge to roll your eyes, her habit of being far too blunt in moments of stress growing less endearing every time. "Yeah, I noticed. What's the problem with that?"

For once, Kate's actually speechless.

She opens and closes her mouth at least five times, making disgruntled noises that don't even border on words. You're equal parts annoyed, amused, and endeared (even if you'd rather not admit it).

"He's clearly a creep!" She finally says as if that will clear things up.

And maybe it does. Maybe it clears everything up and makes perfect sense. Maybe it means you should stop fighting against the truth that's been chasing you since you were a teenager. 

You're just as stubborn as Kate when you want to be, though. It doesn't matter how obvious it is that telling her how you feel is what you need, you'll ignore it forever if you have to. Even when it proves less than optimal for your mental health.

After a moment, you settle on an answer. "How can you possibly know that?"

"You can always tell, their eyes give them away."

You can't stop yourself from laughing in response. "As if you don't spend half the time you're with me ogling my chest."

"That's different!" She exclaims, clearly both embarrased and annoyed.

"Hardly."

She groans, although you're not sure if she's annoyed with you or with herself. "That's not the point! The point is he was being weird and it's my job to protect you."

In any other situation, her words would be sweet. Even now, there's no denying the way your heart skips a beat at the sound of them. Despite this, though, you still decide to hold onto your bitterness.

"You know, I'm more than just a stupid Avengers mission. Just because you've been jealous of me your whole life-"

"Jealous? Who says I was jealous?"

Her response genuinely surprises you. You can't tell if she's serious or not so you decide to bite despite your better judgement.

"Um...everyone? Even your mom. Everyone said you were jealous because your dream was to be an Avenger. You didn't understand how much pain it brought, how difficult it was to be involved with that kind of life. How little I wanted to do with it."

It's your last sentence that seems to strike a chord with her.

She stops in her tracks, using her grip on you to maneuver you until you're in front of her. Until you can't hide from her knowing gaze.

"Wait, is that why you've always hated me?" She asks, her head tilting to the side in a far too adorable show of confusion. "Because I asked you about the Avengers, once?"

It doesn't matter how badly you want to stay mad, she has a way of scrambling all your thoughts before you even know what's happening. Although, the few drinks in your system might have a lot more to do with that than her stupid puppy dog eyes.

"It was more than once!" You exclaim. "All you cared about was talking about Iron Man."

The second the words leave your lips, you feel ridiculously silly. It's like all the stupid things you did as a petulant teenager come back to haunt you in an instant. You wouldn't say you regret them (Kate can be a real pain in the ass when she wants to be) but you are embarrased by them.

"y/n..." Kate trails off, looking equal parts amused and confused. "You're actually serious?"

It would be easily to lie again. To make a joke, shrug it off, and pretend like nothing happened. Like you weren't so close to admitting how you feel.

For some reason...you can't bring yourself to do it. It makes no sense to you and yet, the answer rushes out of your mouth before you can even try to stop it.

"Well...yeah." You shrug. "I had a crush back then, y'know?"

"WHAT?"

You know where her surprise is coming from but all it does is make you want to shrink into yourself again. To ignore her once more until you go back to way things have always been. To the annoyance and the snarky comments and the comfortable distance you've always managed to keep.

"Whatever," you huff, shrugging her off of you. "It doesn't matter anymore."

You try to walk away, to put some distance between you before you continue revealing truths you've successfully kept hidden all your life. Kate's too stubborn for that, of course, so her hands grip your waist before you can get too far, easily moving you backward until you hit a wall.

"Say it again." Her voice is so low it almost startles you.

"What?" It's impossible to stop yourself from sounding breathless...or from allowing your eyes to dip down to her lips.

"The truth, y/n," she says. "Tell me the truth."

It's almost hilarious how quickly you melt for her. All it takes is a low tone to her voice and a sharp gaze from this close proximity for your legs to shake underneath you.

Deep down, you know where it's really coming from. Whether you want to admit it or not, you've spent the last five years aching to tell her the truth. That despite the way you've always acted, you feel so much for her. And hatred is the last thing on that list.

"You're insuferable," you reply. "Almost as insuferable as my crush on you."

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the tension in Kate's frame dissapears. Her grip on you loosens somewhat but she doesn't step away form you. If anything, she moves closer.

"I thought you hated me."

"Well, maybe a little at first. You were really annoying back then." She laughs, the sound so warm it makes you blush. "I think I still am. And an idiot apparently." 

"We already knew that, though."

For the first time in a long time, there's no bite to your words. No real fire to feed Kate's competitive streak. Just...the smallest amount of real affection. The kind that comes from knowing someone for almost all your life.

"Wish I knew you liked me sooner," the archer says, leaning in the slightest bit. "I would have kissed you and saved us all this trouble."

You roll your eyes, even though a part of you appreciates her cheesy flirting. "You did kiss me, actually. And it only made everything worse."

She's silent for a moment before a smirk forms on her lips. "Maybe we can try it again. Let me fix what went wrong last time."

Just because she's clearly being a flirt doesn't mean she isn't being genuine. It's easier said than done, but maybe...maybe you two have a chance of working things out. Of finally putting your pride aside and accepting how you feel.

"Stop being an awful flirt and kiss me, Bishop."

It's surprising, but she actually listens to you for once, and before you know it, her lips are on yours and nothing else matters.

Including the danger that lurks in the shadows of your periphery.

[mrs-monaghan]

Tbh I'm a jikooker, but I find it incredibly difficult to fit a healthy long-term relationship into the same timeline as all of jimin's solo work. It's not the pronouns or taking one lyric very literally, its the entire thing, plus comments from him and his producers. To me, you'd have to do some serious olympic level mental gymnastics to make that make sense. I don't doubt that jikook have a special bond, I've definitely seen things between them that definitely look like sexual attraction to me and things that surpass friendship boundaries, but I can't in good faith say that they're together in some official long-term way if I actually listen to jimin and his work.

I've seen some jikookers think they broke up for a while, but I have to question if those people have ever been through a breakup because the little bit of distance/separation/awkwardness we did see from them during chapter 2 is nothing compared to the type of tension that would be there if a relationship that intimate and intertwined had separated, especially considering the dark feelings jimin was feeling. He wouldn't have been cutely commenting on jungkook's lives and jungkook wouldn't have been asking to hang-out or getting excited to see jimin in his comments.

Idk, I'm sure someone could twist everything a certain way and only take certain things at face-value and then make everything else abstract, etc. to make the case that they are together, but I don't really see it. You look at face-off, alone, and just his general dark feelings during Face, then look at the creation of Muse and how him and his producers said he couldn't relate to the love-dovey beginning songs, which is how they ended up making Who (despite the fact that jikookers try to distance him from the song since he doesn't have writing credits even though he sat in the recording room telling them what he wanted and saying it felt like reading his diary). I think jimin could have very well gone through a pretty awful breakup along with the inner turmoil he was going through post-covid, but I don't think it was with jungkook if he did. I still enjoy jikook's bond either way at the end of the day, but yeah I don't really get how anyone can take an honest look at jimin's work and his words and think he was in a long-term healthy love-of-his-life relationship during that time or into chapter 2.

Not trying to change your opinion or anything, honestly I don't really see it discussed much in jikooker spaces (besides bad-faith stuff like tkkers stirring up shit over pronouns in lyrics which is just dumb) and when it is, some jikookers are pretty pick-and-choose about what they deem to be true to jimin's feelings and what isn't. Which I get being nuanced, but sometimes it does feel like a "well this fits my beliefs so clearly this is true to jimin and this doesn't so it means nothing because he didn't write it" or whatever. I honestly get annoyed with the bad-faith arguers because it prevents being able to have actual discussions about some of this stuff in our little jikooker corner of tumblr. Like "he said her, he's clearly straight! he danced with a girl, straight!" stfu.

I don't have much to say to you anon. Not really. Not anything that hasn't been said anyway. Which you've seen and decided its jkkrs doing mental gymnastics. "I'm a Jikooker but..." its never a great way to start a sentence. It just gives major insecure jkkr vibes which i just 😬😬😬😬😬😬😬 you either believe in them or you don't. There is no if, and or buts.

I will leave you with this; over the years, antis and (insecure) jkkrs alike have always found a way to conclude Jkk aren't as close anymore or they broke up or some other bullshit. But what happens everytime Jikook resurface and we see them together again?

NOTHING HAS CHANGED!!!

Nothing ever changes with these 2! They come back closer, more in sync, happier, more in love and their relationship more established than ever. This happens every👏🏽damn👏🏽time👏🏽 Everytime!

Then the insecure jkkrs will be like "jkk is real" again.

And then we will go without content for a while and once again we are back here with the jkk aren't as close argument. Once again. It is an exhausting cycle that I refuse to be a part of.

You can try and nit pick various reasons as to why Jikook aren't in an established rlship, but I will chose to focus on reasons why they are definitely 130000000% in a relationship. Like the fact that they are enlisted together rn, the fact that they could have done AYS with other members but chose eo. Or the fact that Jimin wrote his name on JK's chest with sunscreen and I dont even want to imagine how he did that. What position they were in that would justify people calling them brothers 😂

You do you anon. I'mma just be over here enjoying Jimin promote the hell out of his favourite JK song.

Tweet

Look at him so proud of his man 🥺🥺

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: perv!wonwoo (not super pervy but i tried my best 🫡), smut, f reader, penetrative sex, established relationship (situatuonship is mentioned but idk lets assume they're exclusive just bc i can), he's kinda a dick, etc.

wc: 905

masterlist

streamer!wonwoo perv!wonwoo whose audience believes him to be a golden boy. simply a polite yet charming guy whos into video games, who just so happens to be insanely handsome. his thick rimmed glasses and wavy hair almost covering his eyes, accompanied by those wide shoulders, was able to catch the attention of all of those looking for a pretty face to look at while consuming content from their favorite video games (although many keep their eyes glued to the tiny view of wonwoo on the corner of the screen rather than the game itself).

the people watching him through the screen dont even see the half of it, though, not knowing how much of a perv he is when in real life. not so much a respectful and charming guy, but a degenerate who keeps up the act for appearances. after all, that is how he first got to you a few years back, when you, one of the few who had been a loyal viewer since before his channel blew up, decided that you just HAD to have the pretty nerd rambling about league of legends on stream.

after a few (okay, maybe more than a few) attempts at catching his attention through leaving various suggestive comments, wonwoo finally decided to take a look at your account, noting an instagram linked on your bio. after seeing that the desperate commentator he had taken a liking to seeing always punctual in his streams was a pretty girl in his area, his mind went straight to the gutter, finding his hands moving on their own to send you a message detailing his interest.

a few months later and you found yourself in a months-long situationship with the streamer, having him hit you up almost every other day when he needed 'something warm warm to stick his dick in', as he so nicely put it as he had you sitting on top of him, cockwarming him while he gamed (off-stream, of course).

having a such a well paying stay at home job had many perks, including the ability to take any day off he wanted to fuck you into his bed, somehow managing to never scare you away with his very obvious obsession with your body, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you with little to no regard for the exhaustion you'd feel after a few hours with him. somehow the roles had reversed, with him now being the one to continuously pursue you under the vice of getting under your pants every second he could.

"n-nonu fuck. slow down, i-" you whined as he senselessly bounced you up and down on his dick, rhythm completely lost a few rounds ago.

he practically growled at your complaint, "you asked for this when you showed up wearing that tiny excuse for a skirt while i was on stream."

"you asked me over-"

"for moral support, baby. not for you to parade yourself around me knowing i wouldnt be able to hold back from taking this pussy," he breathed out, angling you slightly differently, now causing you to whine even louder at your clit being stimulated by the friction.

"does your audience know how m- agh fuck. how much of a perv you are? leaving mid stream to get your dick wet?"

your brattiness causes him to disconnect your bodies, flipping yours over to put you on your hands and elbows and ramming himself into you with no warning.

"be thankful i'm fucking you of all people baby. be thankful this pussy has such a grip on me to get you on my bed every night," he sped up as he spoke filth into your ears.

wonwoo had a special way of making you feel like an object, something which you only enjoyed when it came to him. despite being such a fucking perv, you enjoyed the dynamic you had built, allowing him to play with your body however he saw fit as long as he made you cum. and jesus christ, did he.

"fuck," you felt the end coming near and began to push yourself back against him, grinding into him as much as you could despite his clammy hands having such a tight hold on your hips.

"im gonna make you cream all around me and then im gonna fill you up. okay, baby? then im gonna go back on stream while you keep my bed w- ah fuck. warm for me. if you're a good girl for me, i'll fuck you to sleep afterwards," he rasped out, losing his rhythm even further as he neared his own high.

a few more harsh thrusts later and you were creaming around him, tightening up so much that he, too, reached his peak, filling you up and letting go of your hips, causing you to fall flat against the mattress.

"fuck. baby, never show up like that here again. i almost died," he breathed out as he tried to do a decent job at cleaning you up a bit and tucking you under the covers.

despite his perverted treatment of your body, wonwoo was always sweet to you when his mind wasnt filled with sex (which admittedly wasnt often).

"you act as if i forced you to fuck me," you retaliate despite knowing you did wear that skirt with a specific purpose in mind.

"just shut up and go to sleep, baby. you'll need your energy back soon."

n/a: this is ass im rlly bad at writing men who r not obsessed with their s/o im sorry </33

[cowboylikeyouu]

🦾 WINTERHAWK RECS 🏹

@bl0ssomized asked for some winterhawk fic recs & i took that as my sign to finally sit down, go through my 500+ bookmarks and provide y'all with my fav fics <3 if you end up reading/enjoying any of these, PLEASE make sure to leave a comment on ao3, the authors deserve all the nice words in the world!!

about this list:

most of these fics are pretty popular in the fandom, so this list is more directed at new fans just joining the winterhawk paradise!! (there's a lot on here tho, so maybe you find one you haven't read yet)

mika/bee asked for little to no smut, so i'm not gonna rec any pwp works here (with a few exceptions). if you want smut recs, hmu tho, i got y'all

there's obviously still smut in many of these fics, but i tried to tell you if it's important/skippable or not. if you don't mind smut i obviously recommend reading it bc GOD these authors just know their shit, but i think nobody should miss out on the amazing long fics just bc they don't like smut :)

i put a "notes" section for every fic where i just yap about it and/or my feelings towards it for a bit bc i literally can't shut up about these two guys.

alright, i think that's all, let's go!! pls tell me if i messed up the links somwhere :)

50k+ words 

Lucky In Love by dr_girlfriend 

words: ~60k 

important tags: no powers AU, oh my god they were roommates!, friends to lovers, mutual pining 

notes: every time i give winterhawk recs to a new fan i start with lucky in love, bc even tho it’s an AU, it has soo many of the typical winterhawk tropes i love so much. PLUS: roomates. and lucky. and every chapter is titled “aw, [something], no” and i find that way too funny to not mention. idk it’s just one of that fics that gives me the warmest & fuzziest of warm fuzzy feelings and i think everyone should read it. 

smut: even tho it has the wonderful, wonderful tag “not gonna tag every sex act just trust me there’s plenty”, there’s actually not that many. in my opinion, the perfect amount for a 60k, 21 chapters winterhawk fic. it’s quite a slow-burn, so they’re only in the later chapters anyway, and the build up to it is soOoo good. this is one of the fics where i know exactly where to find the smut scenes so feel free to hmu. 

Like Real People Do by Kangofu_CB

words: ~67k 

important tags: “i actually just wanted to watch these two idiots fall in love in a secluded cabin ok”; civil war fix it 

notes: no one, NO ONE  gets me like this fic, it checks like every single one of my boxes. perfection. not lying when i say it’s my favorite fic of all time. it doesn’t have a special premise or anything, but that’s the good thing about it. it’s just so… cozy. comfy. feels like home. i can’t even remember if like real people do is my favorite hozier song because of this fic or if it’s my fav fic bc like real people do is my fav hozier song, but i know that i never cried as hard as i did when i heard lrpd live and could only think about this fic. nothing makes me feel as good as re-reading this story, i want to eat it.

smut: yes, but only like 2,5 scenes. hmu and i tell you the exact fucking paragraph number or smth, this fic is literally engraved in my soul. thank you CB. some day i’ll leave a 2k words comment on every single chapter. 

The Other Man out of Time by sara_holmes 

words: ~97k 

important tags: time travel, falling in love, clint barton centric 

notes: okay, objectively speaking: this is the best winterhawk fic in existence. not my absolute favorite bc it makes me cry too much, but definitely top 3. no other winterhawk fic made me sob this hard, no other winterhawk fic makes me wanna curl up on the floor and cry for an hour every time i think about it. that being said: IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING!!! and a lot of stuff in between is SO sweet as well. premise is basically: clint travels back in time and fights in wwii alongside bucky and they fall in love. and then bucky!canon happens. you get it? you get it. it’s- UGH it’s so good. jesus. i’m crying. 

smut: a few short sexy scenes i think, but no SMUT smut, and it’s definitely definitely DEFINITELY not the focus of the story. can’t emphasise enough how much everyone should read this 

Hipsters get Remembered, Legend’s Never Die by sara_holmes

words: ~90k 

important tags: millennial bucky barnes, awesome clint barton, recovery 

notes: millennial bucky is one of the most entertaining things fandom came up with, and this fic is the epitome of that trope. love love LOVE. plus, clint’s really fucking awesome in this. 

smut: yes, but only like two or three times in 11 chapters, easily skippable

Puzzle Pieces (series) by sara_holmes 

words: ~446k 

important tags: steve/tony, kid fic, emotional hurt

notes: if you don’t like stony this one isn’t for you, just skip to next one :) if you like stony: GOD pls read puzzle pieces!! the first 200k words fic is stony focused and has only pre-slash winterhawk, but even tho they don’t get together in this one yet it’s literally one of my favorite clint/bucky portrayals of all time, no one gets them like sara, it’s perfect. the stony/kid fic storyline is SO amazing as well, so if that’s your cup of tea, check. it. out. after that they’re a few longer winterhawk instalments, and while some of them are really angsty and painful, there’s always a happy ending. god i need to re-read this entire thing. it makes me wanna cry and throw up in all the good ways. 

smut: some, but you can definitely skip it.

I’ll keep you safe here with me by sara_holmes 

words: ~110k 

important tags: kidnapping, PTSD, mind control aftermath & recovery 

notes: ngl i haven’t read this one in a long time, but everything by sara is perfect and this one’s one of the most kudo’d winterhawk fics, so it’s basically a must read. everyone needs to read a good clint & the winter soldier fic at least once

smut: it’s rated mature, so no really explicit smut. can’t remember if they don’t get a bit horny tho.

A Heart Worth Loving by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~82k 

important tages: soulmate AU, no powers AU, modern bucky barnes, forced cohabitation 

notes: GOOD FUCKING SOUP. soulmate au AND they were roommates????? beat that. it takes them ages to figure out they’re soulmates, which makes this equally amazing and frustrating, but it’s all so so worth it 

smut: yes, at the end of it. you CAN skip it, although i recommend skimming through it and read the dialogue parts and stuff. 

if you were a mythical thing by Kangofu_CB

words: ~75k 

important tags: teachers au, kid fic, werewolves 

notes: quick story time for this one bc i remember it so so well lmao: winterhawk olympic bang 2022, most authors had started to post their fics except for CB and i KNEW she had written one, and i was literally checking my emails every hour for days. and then she finally posted it and i already started screaming when i saw the taylor lyrics as a title, and then i read those three tags and literally had to sit on my floor for 20 minutes to calm down bc i was so excited. i remember posting like 20 stories on my private insta that were just me keysmashing lmaoo. idk but teachers + kid fic + werewolves is just such a BONKERS combination, and i can promise you’re in for a treat, it’s so so fun. 15/10. 

smut: yes, but it takes some time to get there and it’s skippable

Adventures in dogsitting by Call_Me_Kayyyyy 

words: ~53k

important tags: friends to lovers, dogsitting, pining 

notes: another olympic bang fic, thank you. cute, fun, lots of lucky content :) good soup 

smut: NO SMUT

Under My skin (series) by finely honed 

words: ~360k

important tags: Steve/Tony (the “main” instalment is stony focused), PTSD, Life after the army, AU - Tattoo Parlour 

notes: the “first” instalment is a stony fic (one of my all time favs honestly) but with a lot of amazing side-winterhawk, and there’s a winterhawk spin-off, that’s a prequel to the stony arc, so you can just read that first if you want. it was one of the first english winterhawk fics i’ve ever read and it always makes me wanna cry when i think about it (in a good way).

smut: they’re quite horny in both big instalments, but i would say the smut is skippable. it’s not un-important for both the winterhawk and the stony dynamic tho, so i wouldn’t recommend doing that

This is Not a Date, it’s a Kidnapping by sara_holmes 

words: ~50k 

important tags: Fake Kidnapping, also real kidnapping, Bucky Barnes recovering, fake relationship 

notes: all sara_holmes is good sara_holmes, but this one’s one of my favs, it’s just so fun. GOD i miss winterhawk olympic bang 2021, this was such a blast to read when it first came out!! 

smut: NO SMUT

Freedom’s Reach by dr_girlfriend 

words: ~68k 

important tags: arranged marriage, western/historical AU, slow burn 

notes: aaaand another  winterhawk olympic bang 2021 fic! pretty sure this one was my fav during the bang, like i remember hitting up a friend of mine and screaming at each other for like an hour every time a new chapter dropped, we were SO invested. very good soup. 

smut: yes, but it’s a sloooow build, so it’s only in the later chapters. pretty sure it’s easily skippable 

ghost in the machine by squadrickchestopher

words: ~75k 

important tags: fake character death, heavy angst, ghosts, loneliness 

notes: UGHHHH clint “dies”, becomes a ghost and only bucky can see him. touch starved clint final boss basically. amazing shit. painful shit. (happy ending tho) 

smut: it’s rated explicit and it’s by squaddy, so i’m like 99% sure there’s smut, i actually can’t remember tho lmao 

Barton’s Halfway House for Ex-Brainwashed Assassins (series) by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~90k 

important tags: the slowest burn, the mcu reimagined completely, accidental baby acquisition, found family, kid fic

notes: this one’s an ongoing series, and it’s such an amazing one, you can feel all the love that’s been put into this. you have to go through like 60k of slow burn before winterhawk actually happens, but it’s soooo worth it. plus: kid fic. kid fic’s always good. 

smut: yes, but only in the 3rd part and the short pwp oneshot. easily skippable

something magic, something tragic by squadrickchestopher 

words: ~55k

important tags: supernatural elements, vampire bucky, enemies to lovers 

notes: VAMPIRES!!! that should be enough to convince you to read this fic!! and it’s by squaddy, it literally can’t be bad if it’s by squaddy.

smut: ughhh not entirely sure, pretty sure the mature rating is mostly for violence, but, again, it’s squaddy, so it’s very possible there’s some sexy stuff hiding in there.

Sweet Home Was Home by there_must_be_a_lock 

words: ~110k 

important tags: “i sorta made my own franken-canon”, christmas fluff, soft feelings

notes: i found this one on accident once when i wasn’t really expecting to find another PERFECT long ass winterhawk fic i haven’t read yet, and then i binge-read it in one night, and it’s honestly one of the best i’ve ever read, it’s so so soft and… healing. for both bucky and clint and myself. it’s really not as popular as it should be imo, definitely worthy of a place on the first page of the ship tag!! highly HIGHLY recommend checking it out!! 

smut: yes, but skippable 

10k - 50k words 

Starving for the Light by thepartyresponsible 

words: ~45k 

important tags: magic AU, soul bond 

notes: jesus christ i wanna eat this fic so bad. definitely my favorite 2021 winterhawk olympic bang fic, it’s just THAT good. need to re-read it entirely to make sure, but i think it’s in my top 10 if not top 5 fav winterhawk fics of all time. clint’s just so… beautiful in this, idk how else to describe it. and idk, it has a such a unique premise and setting, i love everything about it. 

smut: yes, but skippable. 

Historic Features by flawedamythyst

words: ~19k

important tags: ghosts AU, homophobic violence 

notes: oooohhh my god, don’t make me think about this fic i’m gonna cry. it’s actually pretty fun and cute and fucking awesome, but clint & bucky’s backstory in this?? i’m ugly crying, leave me alone. premise is basically: they’re ghosts and haunting the apartment they died in years ago, scaring everyone who tries to live there out of it. then steve and tony wanna move in. it’s fucking great. 

smut: NO SMUT 

Call It What You Want To by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~48k 

important tags: modern bucky barnes, sugar daddy

notes: clint becomes bucky’s sugar daddy on accident without realising and it’s the funniest fucking shit i’ve ever seen, god i love him so much. plus, again,,, millennial bucky barnes. gimme all the millennial bucky barnes.

smut: 3 or 4 scenes i think, starting as early as chapter… 2??? i think??? pretty skippable tho, as long as you read like the foreplay and everything.

A Thistle Cannot Grow by ccbytheseashore

words: ~12k 

important tags: kid fic, developing relationship 

notes: AHHHSDJGHSKJDHG. enough right?? i’m always a sucker for some good dad!clint & soft!bucky content. this one’s so so sweet it’s one of my main comfort fics, can’t recommend it enough if you love kid fics! 

smut: yes, but it’s literally only like 500 words of frotting, you know when it’s coming and you know when it’s over :) (it’s amazing tho) 

Attachments by Lissadiane 

words: ~22k 

important tags: high school au, mother hen bucky barnes, clint barton needs a hug 

notes: i KNOW many people don’t like high school AUs and i don’t fucking care. teenage winterhawk has so much potential, i love them to death. which is exactly why you should read this ;) 

smut: NO SMUT

Outnumbered by sara_holmes 

words: ~18k 

important tags: kid fic, triplets, no powers AU, bucky comes home to new york 

notes: another single dad clint fic, but give him 3 boys this time!! —> chaos. amazing chaos. + amazing bucky. good soup. 

smut: NO SMUT 

Once Lost (now found) by Teeelsie 

words: 40k 

important tags: hurt clint barton, on the run, self sacrifice 

notes: hurt clint barton final boss. this was written for whumptober, so you can imagine how bad it gets. SO worth it tho, even if you don’t really love that kind of stuff! 

smut: NO SMUT (pretty sure clint’s too hurt to have any kind of sexual thoughts <3 stupid stupid stubborn man. i love him so much)

The Best Worst Thing (that hasn’t happened to you yet) by sara_holmes

words: ~48k 

important tags: enemies to friends to lovers, rescue missions 

notes: if you’re into comic winterhawk and read their tales of suspense run, you should definitely read this fic. if you haven’t read tales of suspense, go do that now and then come back to the fic, bc it’s basically a rewrite that gives us the bucky/clint & nat dynamic we fucking deserve

smut: don’t think so?

skylines and tan lines by flawedamythyst

words: ~33k 

important tags: no powers AU, coronovirus lockdown, long distance flirting 

notes: this was literally my fav fic during lockdown, i’m not lying when i say i read this at least 20 times in 2020/21 lmaoo. it’s just such a fun concept; bucky’s living with peggy/steve, and their dynamic is so enjoyable. 

smut: there’s quite a bit of sexting & phone sex, plus a smut scene at the end. doesn’t take up the entire fic tho, and the rest is worth it as well. 

Behind Bars by sara_holmes and Behind Bares (On The Other Side Remix) by flawedamythyst 

words: ~32k (sara), ~25k (amy)

important tags: prison AU 

notes: sara’s fic is the original, amy remixed it and wrote if from clint’s pov (with quite some changes). i love both fics, but i definitely read the remix more often and prefer it, but i highly recommend reading both, they’re amazing!! clint & bucky are cell mates!!! and it’s angsty!! a little bit!! 

smut: can’t remember what it’s like in sara’s version, but it’s only rated mature soo... there’s definitely one or two smut scenes in amy’s fic, but easilyyy skippable, only like a few handjobs or smth i think.

What do you mean we left Clint on Mars? by sara_holmes 

words: ~25k 

important tags: outer space, falling in love, clint feels 

notes: a classic. falling in love long-distance is soo fun, and i love it when author’s touch-starve clint, so there’s that <3

smut: NO SMUT

A Christmas Miracle: Getting Lucky by Lissadiane

words: ~11k 

important tags: christams, hallmark fic 

notes: LUCKY!!!! i read this every single christmas. you should too. you’re welcome. 

smut: NO SMUT 

Dear Super-Secret Diary by flawedamythyst 

words: ~16k 

important tags: christmas fluff 

notes: clint is bored and gets a diary (and the guy). a christmas must-read, it’s fun and cute and fluffy!!! one of the few times i will accept first person narration bc, well, it’s a goddamn diary 

smut: NO SMUT 

winterhawk punks in love (series) by 1000_directions 

words: ~19k words 

important tags: punk au, amputee bucky, deaf clint, ptsd, emotional hurt/comfort, recovery 

notes: punk!winterhawk is so important to me I NEED MORE OF IT!!! this one’s such a perfect mix of happiness and angst and comfort UGH it just hits that spot. 

smut: yes, but the fic’s still amazing if u skip it 

Apple Of My Eye by flawedamythyst

words: ~40k 

important tags: clint barton’s farm, found family, domestic 

notes: FARM FIC FARM FIC FARM FIC!!! bucky, clint and wanda basically start an apple business on his farm, and it’s just soo comfy and awesome.

smut: NO SMUT

Alone in the Bitterness by Lissadiane

words: ~16k

important tags: no pwers au, nurse bucky, disaster clint 

notes: nurse bucky nurse bucky nurse bucky nurse bucky!!! do i have to say more?? 

smut: NO SMUT

Team Spirit by Noxnthea 

words: 17k 

important tags: case fic, enemies to lovers lite 

notes: noxnthea is such an underrated author it’s a literal crime. i normally don’t love case fics that much, but this is a ghost hunters case fic AND their banter is so fun that it really doesn’t matter for me this time 

smut: NO SMUT

Reach Out by Kangofu_CB

words: ~11k 

important tags: 5+1, a lot of sex tags, porn with feelings, feelings realisation 

notes: CB’s smut always hits different, and idk, the +1 of this is just sooo funny and adorable, i love it to death. read this more times than i’ll admit. 

smut: basically pwp, big no no if you don’t like smut. 

Storms Within (Bridges Rebuilt) by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~11k 

important tags: star wars setting, force sensitive bucky & clint, crack treated seriously 

notes: guys you can’t imagine my excitement when the notif for this fic popped up in my emails. luke skywalker is one of my top 10 all time fav fictional characters AND HERE HE IS INTERACTING W MY FAV BOYS IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!!!! it’s so so good, if you’re into star wars you’re gonna love it!! (even if not, it’s by CB, impossible to not enjoy)

smut: NO SMUT

Draw, Breathe, Fire by FestiveFerret

words: ~15k 

important tags: falling in love, flirting, banter 

notes: haven’t read this in a long time, but i’m pretty sure it was like a perfect little bucky-recovering-and-falling-in-love-with-clint-while-living-in-the-tower-fic. he learns archery!! pretty sure they also adopt a ferret or something???? good shit

smut: NO SMUT

Hoist a Black Flag by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~11k 

important tags: pirate au 

notes: ITS BASICALLY AN OFMD AU OKAY HOW CAN U NOT LOVE IT???

smut: yes, but skippable

Cupid’s Arrows by flawedamythyst 

words: ~14k 

important tags: office AU, valentine’s day 

notes: clint dressed up as cupid, bad pick up lines, shenanigans. haven’t read this in quite a while, but i remember i enjoyed it A LOT a few years ago and re-read it multiple times!! 

smut: NO SMUT

The Best Thing since a Double-Shot Expresso by sara_holmes 

words: ~11k 

important tags: coffee shop AU, misunderstandings, getting together 

notes: friends to lovers final boss. they’ve been best friends (husbands) for years and literally live together, and it takes them an insane amount of jealousy and steve’s ass to finally get together. such a fun read, highly HIGHLY recommend 

smut: NO SMUT

Habits of My Heart by Kangofu_CB

words: ~18k 

important tags: Fuckbuddies to Lovers, no powers AU, grindr 

notes: fuckbuddies to lovers with loads of pining will always be THE most realistic winterhawk depiction for me, sorry not sorry. this one’s extra fun bc steve and nat have been trying to set them up for months, but they’ve been already hooking up for months. it’s great. 

smut: yes, but easily skippable.

In Which Peter Is Everyone’s Favourite Avenger by DestroyedConscience 

words: ~25k 

important tags: Twitter, everyone is gay, gen z humor 

notes: look, this is an unfinished, non-winterhawk-centric twitter fic, but as a fellow winterhawk twitter fic author i just HAVE to recommend it. if u like this kind of thing, go check it out, it’s so fun :) 

smut: NO SMUT

Look What The Cat Dragged In by flawedamythyst

words: 22k 

important tags: Bucky Barnes is a cat lover, domestic fluff 

notes: i haven’t read this in years, but i KNOW it was great. at this point just go check out amy’s account and read all of her winterhawk fics, she has over a hundred and they’re all great!! but this one has them co-parenting alpine, so it’s extra great!!

smut: NO SMUT

My Heart Will Be Your Home by dr_girlfriend 

words: ~49k 

important tags: soulmates au, single parent clint barton

notes: soulmate au plus kid fic guys, i repeat, SOULMATE AU PLUS KID FIC GUYS!!! BY DR GIRLFRIEND!!!! GOD i miss winterhawk olympic bang 21/22 this one was such a blast to read when it first came out. 

smut: yes, but skippable 

Chrome Plated Heart by dr_girlfriend 

words: ~20k 

important tags: pacific rim fusion

notes: i’ve never seen pacific rim and i still had a blast reading this one!! (she put a basic explanation for it somewhere in the story notes, so dw about it!!). it was SO nice to read a fic where they’re not heavily traumatised and just have a chill, easy getting together. really sweet stuff

smut: NO SMUT!!

Know When To Hold ‘Em by flawedamythyst

words: ~11k 

important tags: exes to lovers, no powers au, cambling 

notes: UGHHH i need more fics like this one, it’s so so SO good!! flashes back and forth to the time when they were first together and when they meet again and skjdghlksdhg my heart just hurts so much for both of them. (happy ending tho dw, clint’s just so sad in the present and it hurts my soul)

smut: yeah, the part in the present is basically just one big smut scene but it’s soOoOoO emotional and i always love me some emotional smut

Christmas in Colour by mariana_oconnor 

words: ~12k 

important tags: soulmates see in colour, christmas fluff 

notes: SOULMATES SEE IN COLOUR !!!!! *swoons so hard she falls to the floor* top 3 best soulmates tropes i dont make the rules i love it so much. ESPECIALLY when it’s with a character like clint who usually has a colour he loves SO SO much. a christmas must read :) 

smut: NO SMUT

Chaos By Another Name by shatteredhourglass 

words: ~13k 

important tags: dimension travel, time travel, friends to lovers 

notes: DIMENSION-HOPPING TIME-TRAVEL ADVENTURE GUYS!!! why wouldn’t you wanna read it??? 

smut: yes

I Still Choose You (The Public Domain Remix) by mariana_oconnor 

words: ~14k 

important tags: soulmates at first kiss, fake/pretend relationship 

notes: have a fic with two of the best tropes ever, you’re so very welcome. plus plus PLUS: demisexual bucky. as a demisexual/asexual/still trying to figure it out lesbian, i’m always ALWAYS here for any kind of ace spectrum winterhawk, so yeah. 

smut: NO SMUT

the road rising up to meet me by veryrach

words: ~24k 

important tags: pining, sexual reawakening, chaotic slutty clint barton 

notes: MORE DEMISEXUAL BUCKY!!! AND HOT CLINT!!! no other words needed. read it. 

smut: i’m so sorry but i can’t remember if it gets SMUTTY smutty. but there’s definitely a lot of sexual themes i mean look at the tags lmao

Showdown by shatteredhourglass 

words: ~14k 

important tags: fake/pretend relationship; fluff 

notes: breaking my silence: fake dating might me my fav trope of all time. in this one they’re pretending to date for the sole purpose of annoying steve and tony and i think that’s the best thing ever. 

smut: NO SMUT

Light the Spark by dr_girlfriend

words: ~26k 

important tags: fake/pretend relationship, mutual pining, enemies to friends to lovers

notes: aaaand the next fake dating fic >:) the enemies arc is like 0.2 seconds, blink and you miss it, but whoooo cares, we’re here for the fake dating & pining guys!!!

smut: yes, but you can skip it!

-10k words 

Wine and Pine by feathers_and_cigarettes 

words: 6k

Important tags: Touch-Starved, Fake Marriage, pining!clint 

Notes: this is one of those fics i always come back to without realising and it always hits that spot. like i said, fake dating is my favorite trope, and MISSION fake dating???? i'm in heaven

smut: there’s quite a bit of smut, but it’s at the end and even if you stop reading after they kiss it’s really worth it. 

Over Easy by Lissadiane

words: ~9k

important tags: hook up gone awry, awkwardly crashing the birth of a baby 

notes: need y’all to know that this has one of my all time fav smut scenes, i kinda know it by heart. don’t quote me on that, this is our secret. this one’s just so so SO much fun, i’m having the time of my life every time i read it (which is at least like once a month) 

smut: yes, and it’s kinda the best part, but everything else is so fun as well that i really wouldn’t wanna miss out on it

The Love You Deserve by flawedamythyst 

words: ~8k 

important tags: unhappy family holidays, homophobia, family issues, jewish bucky barnes 

notes: another must-read christmas fic for me; clint goes home for christmas to an uncle of his or something but they all turn out to be homophobic assholes or something and then bucky shows up to save the day <3

smut: NO SMUT 

what you really, really want by Noxnthea 

words: ~8k 

important tags: pining, misunderstandings 

notes: *blurts out* THEYVE BEEN IN LOVE FOR AGES AND THEN WANDA HEXES THEM SO THEY THINK THEVE BEEN DATING FOR YEARS!!! this is SUCH an underrated fic, it doesn’t even have 200 kudos like wtf??? SHOW IT SOME LOVE!!!

smut: NO SMUT

The 300 Club by Noxnthea 

words: ~10k 

important tags: no powers au, scientist clint & bucky 

notes: there aren’t enough scientist winterhawk AUs so HUGE THANKS noxnthea for feeding us. i will literally haunt you if you don’t read this one, ITS SO UNDERRATED!!! AND SO FUN!!

smut: NO SMUT

For Everything There is A Season by dr_girlfriend

words: ~9.7k 

important tags: crack fic, secret service agent!bucky, small business owner!clint barton 

notes: crack fics are always gold and this one especially, it’s such a ridiculous idea, how could you not love it? always a very fun read! 

smut: NO SMUT

Background Noise by Reremouse 

words: ~8k 

important tags: modern au, deaf clint barton 

notes: MILLENIAL BUCKY!!! clint is bucky’s upstairs neighbour and extremely loud bc he’s well… deaf. lol. and bucky’s a night shift worker which really isn’t a good combo on first thought. but on second thought, these are clint and bucky, so OBVIOUSLY they’re gonna make a great combo out of it. it’s fuckign amazing. plus bucky & sam friendship!! good shit guys, good shit.

smut: NO SMUT

you didn’t hear that by jedusaur 

words: ~2.6k 

important tags: roomates, eavesdropping 

notes: super self-indulgent rec, i always read this one when i need some cheering up lmao it’s just so fun and they’re kinda nasty and UGH. love. it explores the range of bucky’s super hearing. do with that what you want. 

smut: yes. it explores the range of bucky’s super hearing in every way ;)

one more time by squadrickchestopher 

words: ~4k 

important tags: touch starved, hurt clint barton 

notes: i don’t even know why i love this one so much, but it holds SUCH a special place in my heart. it might be my undying love for touch starved!clint who finally gets his well-needed hugs by bucky. there’s also an amazing podfic by flowerparrish for it, make sure to give kudso to them both!!! 

smut: NO SMUT

the salt on your lips by veryrach 

words: ~9k 

important tags: kissing, an absolutely ridiculous lack of communication 

notes: exactly what the tags say. it’s a 5+1 as well, WHAT ELSE DO YOU NEED IN LIFE???? 10/10. i remember waiting for months for the last few chapters and it was SO worth it!!

smut: NO SMUT

Love Potion No. 10 by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~8k 

important tags: love potion/spell, not actually unrequited love

notes: i won’t say anything about the story bc i don’t wanna spoiler it, but i’ll say that i re-read the second half of it at least once a month, it’s just THAT sweet. 

smut: NO SMUT

There’s No ‘I’ In Denial by flawedamythyst 

words: ~5k 

important tags: truth spells 

notes: clint gets hit by a magic truth gun and can’t lie anymore. such a fun & cute read every single time.

smut: NO SMUT

The Name of the Game by squadrickchestopher 

words: ~6k 

important tags: competition, trash talking, feelings realization 

notes: this one’s just so so fun, it has allllllll the winterhawk banter anyone could ask for. and i always love me some competitive idiots in love

smut: NO SMUT 

Full Barton by aw_writing_no 

words: ~6k 

important tags: no powers au, cop!bucky, human disaster clint 

notes: what the tags say. clint embarrassing himself in front of bucky who enjoys it a bit too much gotta be one of my fav tropes. 

smut: NO SMUT

one more little mistake by shatteredhourglass 

words: ~3k 

important tags: clint barton wears glasses, bucky barnes is horny for clint barton 

notes: these tags are basically the entire fic lmaooo. it’s great, i love nothing more than HOT HOT HOT clint barton and bucky realising how hot he is 

smut: almost lmao (they get interrupted while making out) 

my hands no longer an afterthought by shatteredhourglass 

words: ~3k 

important tags: getting back together 

notes: i have a sweet sweet SWEET spot for winterhawk getting back togethers if handled well, and this one handles it soo well. 

smut: NO SMUT

Five Lies People Believe About Clint and Bucky by EVVS 

words: ~1.5k 

important tags: established relationship 

notes: this is one of those fics i always go back to if i have a few minutes and need some (bitter)sweet fluff. it’s exactly what the title says, some lies are fun, some are painful, and all of them just hit that spot 

smut: NO SMUT

My Sausage Brings Alll the Boys To The Yard by flawedamythyst 

words: ~1.7k 

important tags: bad flirting 

notes: this one’s so stupid it probably shouldn’t be on here but i remember how i was reading this in class for the first time when i was still in school and i was almost pissing myself bc it made me laugh so hard. very fun, go read it >:(

smut: NO SMUT

bonus for the freaks:

Filthy Porn Fridays by squadrickchestopher 

there’s 18 works so far, it’s smut smut smut aaaand - you guessed it - smut. if you wanna see the boys fuck nastily, this is your place to be. 

(delicate tension is the best fic of the series, it’s actually a roadtrip AU and not just smut, highly highly recommend) 

alrightyyy, i think that's it for now :) this took me quite some time so i'd appreciate some reblogs or whatever!! we need to spread some winterhawk love guys!!

all my love goes out to every author i mentioned here, and every other author who's ever written winterhawk. you guys are my heroes, idk what i'd do without you. literally ripping my heart into a thousand pieces and giving every single one of you a tiny part 💜

[astonmartingf]

HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME NOT ; MSC47

childhood friends to lovers! mick schumacher x verstappen!reader . . . when push comes to shove, you would never admit to having a crush on mick as you grew older. this however ends up with you convincing yourself that he would never love you outside the platonic relationship you built through the years, despite all evidence pointing to the obvious— he loves you, but you think not.

amgf this has been plaguing my mind, and after writing atrocious angst (ybom) i'm here to write a palate cleanser on my mind 😔 i also chose to write this instead of study for a chemistry exam, i keep making the wrong decisions but seeing as i made this was it so wrong??? i think not. enjoy like always 👍

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, maxverstappen1, and 76,863 others

yourusername some things never change 🐻

view comments...

user1 and now what? what are we?????

user2 awww baby mick and baby yn are adorable

user3 the way yn is more attached to mick than max

user4 i remember in an interview where jos said when he couldn't find yn he'd look for mick since he was a tall boy

user5 wait where? when was this?

user6 in an old interview, idk when but it was with michael as well

user7 they're actually so adorable, oh my gosh

mickschumacher terrorizing the earth, one forest at a time, here's to more hikes in the future 💖

yourusername you bet i'll be there, it's scary how we aren't sick of each other yet

mickschumacher i mean it's you, why would i be sick of you?

yourusername as you should!!! i'm great to be with

maxverstappen1 mick is just too kind to kick you out

yourusername you're jealous we kicked you out!

user8 they're actually all that's in my head

user9 how are they not dating????

user10 because people of different sex can be friends?

user11 i get the shipping but they're good as friends so why?

user12 i mean they look good together, it's just wishful thinking

user13 oh imagine having a good looking childhood friend and not dating them, ofc they've been friends for so long wtf

user14 i mean, they are a good match so, leave people alone for shipping them

user15 they may be a good match but it's still weird so idgaf you're wrong

mickschumacher

liked by yourusername and 726,947 others

mickschumacher with the feel of your hand on mine 🐇

view comments...

user16 oh gosh please help them realize what they're made for each other

user17 i was so convinced they're just friends but then mick pulls shit like this

user18 i can't keep on defending you if you do this???? boy?

yourusername if you hadn't held my hand then and there i would've flown away

mickschumacher okay that's exaggerating, but as if i'd let that happen

yourusername because it was so strong, you were holding my hand tightly

mickschumacher are you complaining or thanking me?

yourusername thank you mick 🫡 you're the bestest friend ever

user19 they're actually driving me insane

user20 even the wind ships them

user21 don't you think that's the universe making a sign to both of you?

user22 "as if i'd let that happen" okay mick, wtfffff why is he doing this?

user23 they can't keep doing this and just pulling the best friend card at the end, they need to hold responsibility for us

liked by maxverstappen1

user24 bro max liked????

user25 what does he know? wym??? max oomf, why are you liking this comment?

user26 max is tired of their bullshit i know

user27 if max is tired we can be of help, i for one am volunteering out of the goodness of my heart and not because of my nosy ass

user28 okay yn and mick you can share it with the class

yourusername

liked by gina_schumacher, victoriaverstappen, and 86,047 others

yourusername a week of mick 🐻

view comments...

user29 yn is with mick instead of being at a grand prix????

user30 you're telling me they're just friends? shut up actually

user31 i'm deluding myself and saying they're dating

user32 they're so cute (they're driving me crazy 😮‍💨😩😭😀😊🥹😠)

mickschumacher thank you for watching me hase

yourusername ofc!!!! i am your number one fan bärchen 💖

maxverstappen1 is this the important thing you have going on?

yourusername yes it is, it's not like you won or smth

maxverstappen1 wow... am i going to have to steal you from mick now?

yourusername bold of you to assume i would leave mick

user33 they're actually insane wtgfhfjg

yourusername uploaded a new story

[look, it's a bear!] [jk it's my boyfriend hehehehe]

view replies to your story...

user34 OH NOOOO

user35 is this MICK? hello? mick stand up??!

user36 what about mick 🥹

user37 a soft launch out of nowhere? wth????

user38 this is mick? it's Mick isn't it? please tell me tkzusbdkajdj I NEED TO KNOW!NNN

mickschumacher you're evil hase, what have you done

i want to have you to myself a little longer, is that so wrong 😠

mickschumacher i don't think anyone can have me like you do

YEAH!! that's right, i love you bärchen 💖

mickschumacher i love you hase 💖

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

My heart is a bloodhound!

PART 1 ★ PART 2

Quick summary: It happens again, when the year festers into August again and leaves the two of you raw and vulnerable like open wounds.

Word count: 15K… 🤓

Warnings: canon-typical mentions of death, violence and injury (there is mention of like eating people but idk); grief; misogyny; Rust's personality; semi-public SMUTT T-T (MINORS DNI); same level of pretentiousness, maybe a little more, as the first part.

A/N: Holy fuck this sucked the soul out of me (wish Rust Cohle would suck the soul out of I MEAN WHAT), i am super proud of this though!! Went through many iterations and this was the least shit! 🎀🎀🎀 This is technically part two to The idler wheel but can be read by itself too. May or may not write other things for this guy but for the time being, I need a cleanse 😭 BUT please please enjoy and please please interact, i love reading comments and so many lovely people commented on the first part, im gonna do my best to respond to any/all this time 🤘MWAH MWAH

***

It’s difficult to differentiate between the thrill of being left alone here with him and the slow-sinking dread of the implications of that.

With the return of the musk of the summer, those three ruthless, windless, unrelenting months that would seem to drag on for several lifetimes when I was a kid, the memory of where I was last year—and the year before that, and the one before that—hangs brightly in my mind. Stale, not quite dead – so bright. Crawling with mildew.

Stepping into the bar had felt like entering another dimension. Maybe it was the suits that gave it away – every single God-haunted patron—the truckers, the farmers, even the old dog lying at a man’s feet—had turned, sensing foreigners as acutely as the immune system registers a bodily threat. I knew Johansson felt it: that dark pull over the back of the neck. But under Marty’s overconfident, swaggering lead, that winning smile, we soon assimilated. Skin swallowing a bullet.

God forbid you ever leave the town you grew up in. Shame on you if you don’t, though. How sanctimonious of me to change my mind and return after earning a spot amongst the lucky few escapees.

Something in this place still irks me.

At least, in Brooklyn, there was always noise: cries of a baby in the apartment over, the discord of traffic bursting through the streets below, the rush of a crowd, the overlap and slur of private conversations. At least the badness would stare you right in the face; at least people were evil to be evil. At least there were corners where things could hide, where it made sense for shadows to exist: all to explain the paranoia that stalked me.

But here?—it seems so open. Like, if a rare, hot wind would blow through a Louisiana town, it could do so in one straight path, through walls, through people, without ever getting disrupted. Everything is so light in the blazing sun, you can practically hear it: the hum of rays passing over every surface. Nothing should be able to hide. And, at night, with no sun, no rays, there is no noise. Maybe a dog. And ghosts. But perhaps it’s just the area in which I live. 

When Marty started drinking, flirting with the twenty-one-year-old barkeep, Johansson’s face had stiffened. He himself had never even touched a bottle of beer – devil stuff. We shared a look once the blond detective started gabbin’ like an idiot.

“Know what Maggie thinks?” he had laughed, slumping over the sticky table of the booth, big, sweaty palm choking out his drink. “She thinks you might be pissed at me.”

Johansson blinked hard to keep his nose from wrinkling, but, even then, he couldn’t keep from physically cringing away. “Who?” he asked, confused by those hazy, unfocused eyes.

Marty cracked a toothy grin – there was that slight gap between those front two, which had been charming at first and only managed to thoroughly disgust me now in moments like these – and pointed his finger right at me, accusing. “You.”

My stomach churned dangerously at the sight of him.

“Marty,” his partner had drawled, a low warning.

Waved away like a fly.

“Naw, it’s like—you’re on your high fuckin’ horse or somethin’.”

The words were spoken through a laugh, but I knew there was meat behind that so-called good mood. He was one of those people that tended to overcompensate. A mistake, an ill feeling. He liked to point out how I was alone, and often, too, poorly disguised as a passing joke, complete with one of those shit-eating grins that seemed to come so easy to him.

Shouldn’t he have been happy? Not only had he gotten our case, by then, but we’d handed it over with smiles on our damn faces. Nice enough to walk them through the original crime scene, introduce them to the key witnesses. Complicated. We didn’t have to do shit for ‘em, but we did. Hell, even that beer he was clutching to his chest was paid for out of the goodness of my own fuckin’ heart. Who was he to moan about the situation? He was the one who insisted on staying in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, brushing off any and all pointed questions on whether his family would be missing him at dinner.

“You know, I’d rather you were pissed,” he continued, where, really, I should have just smothered him into silence.

Rust was staring into the side of his flushed face, iron-grey eyes like a drill, like he was thinking the same thing.

“Look, you’re smilin’ at me now, but I sure as hell don’t trust it, buck. You wanna bite my head off, don’t ye?”

Like I ever could have done that.

Though the familiar weight of rage curdled in my chest, I would never admit it to the likes of Martin Hart. When he got like this—jealous, insecure, whiny—I wondered whether it was just a temporary lapse, or if this him, this true him, just lay under the surface all the time.

It wasn’t that fucking hard to plaster on a smile and take what you fucking got – I did it all the time. He could dream of a different life, but this was the one we were dealt. Fact that his grown ass hadn’t accepted that by now twisted violently in my gut. Between the two of us, I was the one that knew this – so why did he get myfucking case?

In my head, I’d let Salter have it, too. How could I ever admit I had an ego? How could I ever admit I had a mind to wrench the teeth out of the sheriff’s fucking gums? 

But I have plenty of practice acting like things don’t bother me, which is why it was so easy to plaster on my amiable smile and laugh, “C’mon, man, you know it’s only ‘cause o’ the workload.” Not that you could comprehend that, lazy fuck. To Marty, my kind’s natural state was amiable—anything otherwise would be a defect—so I’d expected to convince him. “You’ll do right by it, ‘m sure.” 

If he were sober, I know he would’ve bought it – he could convince himself that the way of the world was right and I was only being sweet to be sweet, because he deserved it. 

But Marty was drunk. Piss-drunk, loud drunk. His mind was clumsier than usual, unable to muster the energy to jump points, ignore the evidence, like he did daily. I hoped I had the power—if I had to let the case go, I wanted to at least retain an into its goings-on—but there was only one way to really have power over men like Marty when they were drunk, and I had had no interest in being one of his girls. 

My partner twitched beside me, picking at some spongy, yellow fluff protruding from a thin split in the chocolate-brown fake leather of the booth. He was just as furious as I was beneath his fort of calm.

Marty took a swig of his beer. “She wants you over soon. Maggie. Barbecue or some shit.”

“Maybe you should go home,” Johansson interjected, sharper than intended. If I were him, with his body, with his life, I’d have hit the fucker—long time ago, too. I couldn’t, but Johansson wouldn’t. He didn’t lack the temperament for brutality—I’m not sure anybody does—but, rather, couldn’t justify it to a necessary degree in his head. “I’m going home,” he’d reasoned kindly – he made it sound so easy. “Just let me take you. It’s on my way.”

Itching to leave, to return to the comfort of his wife and his little daughter. Marty had always found Johansson’s fondness of them disingenuous, had disliked my partner as long as they’d worked in the same office. He complained to me once that none of his stories seemed complete. When I asked him what he meant by that, he couldn’t answer—but I knew.

Breath short in my chest, I had half-expected Marty to lunge over the table, scratch Johansson’s eyes out. Only, Rust leaned over, dipping his head down to mutter something quietly into his partner’s ear, which was all flushed red. 

And then he went willingly into Johansson’s car, stumbling through the still, open night into the backseat.

My partner had squeezed my shoulder goodbye – I’m not sure why I didn’t leave with him. Now, I was doomed to leave with Rust. 

There, he sits across from me, smearing the ashy tar of his half-smoked, flaking cigarette over the mottled glass ashtray dragged over to his side of the table, little circles, waves, absent-minded art. Has me transfixed, some hypnotist.

If I look down like this, if I sacrifice the opportunity to look at him, I earn his careful attention: this sits in the back of my idle mind. I’ve been taking advantage of it more and more since summer broke through the sweetness of spring, which has since curdled like milk, sour. His stare drags over my face like fingers – I can almost feel his touch pressing into the softness of my cheek, dragging over the ridge of the orbital bone. 

“You’re okay?” he asks after a couple slowed heartbeats, pulling me out of the honey-pit of my thoughts.

I dart my eyes up, breaking the spell – his observation retreats, clouds, and drifts away to fix on the broken clock on the wall, the one that reads one forty-five at eleven o’ clock.

Primarily, his question irritates me. Nobody asks “are you alright?” imploringly, not unless it concerns themselves and their own wants. Salter had asked me that, right after telling me he was pulling me from my case, and, then, I had thought about crying, just to unsettle him. But what good would that have done? He’d only asked “are you alright?” to test the waters, to see if there was a future possibility of letting him pull the rug out from under me with zero consequences. Again. I couldn’t win. 

But Rust doesn’t want much from me. He doesn’t even want the case, really, which just twists the knife even further. 

“You—you know I’m good in there, right? In the box.” I carve a jagged thumbnail into this message in the table, twisting the characters wider, or taller, risking splinters.

Why should I have to give it up? And to a fucking idiot? Marty wasn’t the one who stayed all those late nights alone at the office, wasn’t the one scoured over heaps of files under low light, wasn’t the one who took the fucking beating when the suspect fought against arrest. Marty was not the one who conducted an interview like that.

My mouth thins into a hard line, but I know the words will come out whether I let them voluntarily or not. Around Rust, it’s that way. I should’ve left when I could. 

“It’s just that—it was so weird,” I continue, my head pulsing with the unwanted memory of that cabin. Marty didn’t have to experience it, Rust didn’t have to experience it—but I did. “Not jus’ wrong, or sad. Makes me feel strange, thinking about it.” 

Often, the suspects underestimate me. Johansson’s broad shoulders and tough-set jaw come off as offensive—nothing like my voice, low and gentle, and my eyes, sympathetic and warm. I’m the mother who will never judge, who is spilling over with unconditional love.

Beneath this, though, I am good at the maths of the job, the connections. Though all detectives technically develop the same constituent skills—close attention to body language tells and other biological betrayals—I ain’t sure most understand the sensitivity and strength required to confront shit like this head-on. To not avert your eyes at the mutilated woman on the bed. To inspect her eunuched boyfriend’s severed appendage, to have steady hands when photographing the scene—with flash, of course, to highlight every detail with sufficient clarity—for evidence, which must be returned to and examined again and again, each time with greater fervour still. 

I could name a few who’d joke about a thing like that, to ease the burn of that image in their heads, to sleep better at night, to leave behind the uninvited, vicarious sensation of a knife teasing over the meat of their dick. 

But the boyfriend’s corpse, we eventually located separately in a cabin in the woods, laid into the basement freezer, so peaceful, such a brutal image. Pretty parts of him preserved for mauling.

And Salter has the fucking audacity to take it away. He wasn’t the one to see something like that, to feel sick to his very stomach, to gag and have to turn away, to cringe and writhe like his skin suddenly wasn’t his, like he ought to pick himself out. I’ve been reeling with that image for weeks, living with motion sickness, and have been denied the relief of vomiting. 

“So, you need me to get that confession.”

Rust comes back into focus, perfectly still.

I nod, the back of my neck prickling with mean goosebumps. “Campbell, his DNA was all over the bodies. He was proud of it, even.” My ribs still glow with the phantom-sensation of his brutal kick there when we located him. Stomach clenching, I struggle to remain level. “But there ain’t no way in hell she wasn’t involved. He denies it, but the house is registered under her name. Maiden name, Phelps.”

“I read,” he confirms. 

I tremble in frustration – I almost wish he hadn’t. 

“It’s just—this lady’s tough.”

Eyes darting over to the dim-lit bar, scouring the scuffed hardwood floor, I can feel my face growing hot with indignation. Christ, it sounds pathetic, like a whiny kid insisting on continuing a task all wrong in order to protect their damaged pride. 

“You know Johansson: once she starts with the tears, he can’t see past ‘em. Southern manners ‘n’ all: a crying woman is a delicate thing not for a man to understand but to comfort. But, with me, it ain’t the same. She doesn’t respect me.”

“What d’you mean ‘respect ’? Don’t need respect in this game.”

I scoff, which would’ve been a dire mistake with anyone else. “Y’wouldn’t know what I’m on about,” I tease through an easy smile, though I’m not feeling so funny at the moment.

He inclines his head down to me, an invitation to elaborate.

My boot feverishly taps against the floor, thrumming light like a jackrabbit on the run. 

I sigh, mouth twisting. “She keeps asking me if I’ve slept,” I confess. “Says I look like her daughter.”

For all my mothering, here comes a perp who’s desperate to play me at my own game.

I can see how intelligent she is: some hollow glint in her eyes with nothing behind; past that gleaming screen of kindness, something black, like a cherry pit.

Sitting across from her, it felt like looking into a mirror. Not just physically—though her skin is a similar shade to mine, her nails bitten and splitting like mine, and she looks close to what I imagine my own mother could’ve grown into. It was in the way that, when I smiled, she smiled. When I took a sip of my coffee, she would drink some tea. At times, it would even seem like she would speak in my voice: the pitch, the intonations, the phrasing all far too similar. I was reluctant to tell her my name. It reminded me of this folk tale, of these tall, dark creatures who only required your name to speak like you, to look like you, to replace you in your own life. Its victim would die—in some way or another. Wander the woods, eaten alive.

A harrowing feeling had crept over me, winter pressing against the two-way mirror – I was sure Johansson, on the other side, would pick up on it. Only, when I confessed my worries to him, he’d given me this doubtful look, and I really wasalone then.

“She’s playin’ you,” Rust states simply, tracing his fingers over his mouth like some pseudo-cigarette. 

“Yeah.” I grind my teeth together. Under the table, where he cannot see, my fingers curl into a tight fist, trembling with my secret violence. “And now Salter wants Marty to have it? Bull.” 

I should’ve socked him right in his dumb, slack fuckin’ jaw. One day, I will. 

“He don’t want Marty to have it,” Rust retorts smartly, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His eyes are warm in the dark – I should’ve taken my chances, raced to meet ‘em, but I’m too late. “He wants me to have it.” 

Yeah, well, I wish what was mine would stay mine.

Even if I’m inclined to be pissed off at Rust by proxy, I just can’t be. The difference between him and Marty is that he actually pays attention, real attention, not the selfish kind. Just by watching, I can tell he knows exactly what he could say, how he could act, in order to appeal to somebody—which is why I find it so odd that he chooses not to. I sacrifice my damn dignity to keep myself palatable. He does not. As a result, he is not well-liked at the office – people tend to feel caught out by him; they don’t like to feel observed, known.

When did being seen become a threat? I thought it was intimate. Though, I suppose, a piece of shit never wants to believe they’re a piece of shit.

Everyone’s the hero of their own story. 

Rust slides Marty’s half-empty beer across the table to me, which I receive with a crooked smile and a quick hand.

“Sure I won’t catch whatever he had?” 

He shrugs. “Y’ain’t as deadbeat as the rest of ’em. Oughta drag you down to their level.” 

I snort. “What, you don’t think you’re deadbeat?”

He huffs. “I’m worse.” 

Bitter, the beer washes over my tongue, leaves that funny aftertaste I never really liked, not the first time, not the last. I don’t suppose I’ll ever turn one down though, not if it was offered to me: I’d accept it if only to win points with whoever it was, points I could spend at a later date. 

“Maybe,” I start, “if you were a little more deadbeat, you’d be popular. Go out with the boys.”

When he meets my eyes momentarily, smirking, I have to grip my hand over my knee, fingertips digging into bone, and consciously remind myself via mantra not to let my face freeze. He hums, voice smooth and low like liquor, “What, like youdo?”

I should be pissed off, really. Maybe I will be. Instead, though, I choke on the smart retort I had meticulously configured in my head, some quip that would’ve maybe interested him based on what caught him before. 

I don’t know whether it would have been worse pretending like it never happened. That’s my strong point: pretending. It’s his, too, when he wants it to be. Maybe we could’ve outlasted it – all we needed was stamina.

But, instead, it’s this. Looking across at each other and knowing exactly what’s going on in the other’s head. I can see exactly how he thinks of me, what he wants to do. When he tilts his head ever so slightly, my neck glows with a promise, like the movement was mine in the first place. When I would bite at the pendant of my necklace, he used to narrow his eyes, like he ought to yank the chain off my neck. But now, he looks on softly, so unlike him, his own fingers at his own lips. I know what it feels like – I’ve kissed him there, too. 

“Don’t give me that. At least Geraci would stop shit-talkin’ ye,” I manage, tearing myself away. “Swear he’s stuck at sixteen or somethin’. But—you don’t mind it, do you?”

He shakes his head. “‘f he was smarter, maybe I would. Jus’ likes the sound of his own voice.” 

The clock has replaced me as his focal point – I can’t help but feel jealous. 

“S’why I like you,” I mumble from behind my beer. “First time I met you, I thought you’d make me feel stupid.

That seems to get him. 

He blinks, a barely noticeable twitch. “Do I? I don’t mean to.”

Can I spin this? I’m sure, if I were a little more awake, I’d be able to spin this. 

Some evil part of me hopes to make him feel guilty, to trick him into feeling tenderness for me, though I know the pursuit of that would be in vain. The type of men I know how to work—creatures of habit that take the exact path you want them to, to believe that they’re the real seducers—Rust seems entirely separate from that. He can sniff out rehearsal and practice, that robotism, like a dog – he sees it enough in criminals, doesn’t he? That’s why he’s called in for favours across state police departments.

When I met him the first time, I shook his hand, smiled, friendly-like, only to be met with rigidity and stoicism. No trouble, of course: some people just are that way. Wild horses on the highway. But his quietness?—now, that had set alarm bells off in my head. Boys at the precinct were loud – you couldn’t pay ‘em to shut up about their weekends, their football, their college years, their fuckin’ yards. When I was first exposed to it, I thought I’d gain a lot of friends. But then I realised they weren’t so much talking with me as they were talking at me. It’s why they’re so easy to read: they just tell you everything you want to know right off the bat. Even their secrets are bursting at the seams of their fat mouths, begging to be released. 

But Rust?—doesn’t talk until he finds it necessary. It’s impressive. Before that, though, the trait was enviable. I had—have—no comparable method. Even though, at first, it can seem blunt, even cold, his eloquence is refreshing. Never running in circles – only determinedly forward. So intimidating, almost like a freight train – I have to consciously keep myself from jerking back and out of the way. 

How low he must really think of me then, to see me like this. And I know he does: he sees. Everything I might have done to prevent it perhaps even had the opposite effect. I hate, I burn, I curse: it’s ugly. I cry over cases I would’ve left behind in two months tops, anyways, onto the next. I obsess over just another woman in the box. I think about him almost constantly. 

“You don’t,” I mumble, wondering if I ought to be wishing myself far away. “Make me feel dumb, that is. Not me. Others, I can’t speak for.”

We’ll have to leave soon – no doubt, this local bar is used to slow days and early nights, a blissful routine rudely disrupted by two outsiders who haven’t even really shown them good business. I glance over at the barkeep, slumped over the scuffed wooden counter and flatly watching the football up on the boxy TV set, and I recall my first job. Then, too, I’d let men twice my age buy me drinks, flirted with them. Was worth the tip money. 

Rust hums, though I really wish he wouldn’t speak at all. “Don’t pay mind to what Marty said.”

My neck prickles. 

He’s not trying to console me, is he? No, that’s not like him. Besides, it’s not like any amount of coddling could reverse the merciless truths I’m constantly reminded of in this line of work – if I’ve learned anything about sympathy, it’s that it doesn’t fix shit. If anything, it’s just another complication. It can seem beautiful, but, really, it isn’t. I can miss it, miss its warmth, miss the kind, sweet nothings my husband would whisper into my hair on the hardest nights, but it never changed the fact that I would have to get up in the morning and do it again. Rust knows this, has maybe lived this, so he’s not trying to console me. 

Maybe he’s trying to defend Marty.

Sharp and sure, that anger comes lurching up in my throat, slashing and snarling. 

The sensible part of me—what I hope is the larger part of me—knows this is not possible. Rust understands Marty’s faults better than anyone, even himself, even his wife. 

“Thing is,” I mumble bitterly, “he really means it, don’t he? He just don’t show it.” I trace the warm, smooth rim of the bottle with a light finger, though my mind is currently toying with the idea of jamming it violently down the opening. “Maybe it means more that he does keep it hidden – at least some part of him knows it’s wrong.”

Placid in the periphery of my vision, Rust shrugs. “‘s what separates us from our killers. Feelin’ it ain’t the problem. Resistance is where strength is tested.” 

“Ego,” I chuckle darkly. 

He hums. “Fragile ego.”

Underneath my smile lies an uneasiness stirred by his criticism.

Rust is not gentle with his opinions – I don’t suppose that’ll ever change. Resistance is a losing game – not even he is immune to the impermanence of these things. I’m sure he said that to me once, on a night like this. 

I’ve never been very good at refraining from things. Even from an early age, I just couldn’t say no. Teenage years: alcohol, drugs, sex. If it was tossed my way, I’d take it, anything I could get, hungry to experience something. 

Ha!—maybe I actually am more like Marty Hart than I’d like to admit. He’s trying to be an adult, albeit really, really poorly. As long as he believes he’s a good, family man, then his reality is protected. But I know I’m rotten, really. One of the boys at the precinct will call me pretty—in that sick way somewhere between the unchecked lust of a man and his paternal right to claim—but, below, I know I’ve got sickness swimming through my veins. Not blood. Something accumulated over the years, maybe from pretending all the time. 

I feel like I want to cut things, break them. Told myself to hang on until I retire, but I don’t see that happening any time soon. I’ll break. What will Rust think of me then? 

Maybe I was his low point: that fault in resistance. 

Some awful, gnawing feeling collects at the pit of my stomach, like black tar. Must be all those cigarettes. 

“Wha’s in that head?” he probes suddenly, stealing razor-sharp, fleeting glances.

I shrug, swallowing down a bout of nausea. “I dunno.” And I really don’t. Behind the surface tension, I don’t know what I feel, only that I do, and it’s so, so much. “It kinda—makes me happy to see him like that: jealous. ‘Cause he knows I’m good, and he’s wondering why he’s finishing what I started. He knows he don’t deserve it. Not like I do.” 

My confession lingers in the air like smoke – I have mind to reach a hand up and wave it all away, or suck it down, deep, erasing reality. Fuck. I’ve always been a little off when reading into Rust’s quiet – with that tightrope he seems to have mastered, I know I should avoid any step at all—it could just as easily miss its mark—but I can never seem to help myself. 

I stare at him—and I think it makes him uncomfortable, though there’s nothing there, not any normal human reaction, in his face for me to draw from. That’s fine. In my gut, I’m pretty sure I’ve got it down.

“You want to be seen as competent,” he finally says, a simple-enough statement. 

I scrunch my nose up distastefully. “No, I want to be competent.”

“Well, what good is bein’ somethin’ if there’s no-one there to witness it?” 

Unable to press down an exasperated sigh, I close my eyes, roll them with all the subtlety I can manage.

Foul words push under my tongue, like vomit. 

I don’t know if I’m in the mood for this tonight: smart conversation. What feels like debate. Maybe if he hadn’t been given my case, I’d take him up on the challenge, but I’ve already lost. 

I eye him, try to figure out his game. 

“I dunno, Rust,” I tell him flatly. “I think that’s called having an identity issue.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Most people do.”

My chest burns. “This isn’t a go at me, is it?”

Slow, he draws the ashtray towards him from across the table, as if the grind of the glass against the wood is a noise that ought to be savoured. 

I could be deaf, but reading his lips would be easy: “And how’d this be about you exactly?” 

I’m able to fight off the initial instinct to wince, the way in which he delivers the words, calm and deliberate, stinging like a slap to the face. What’s worse is the growing impression that he’s as bored of me as I am. 

With a furrowed brow, I watch him, heartbeat thrumming in my ears. 

“I ain’t out to get you, s’you can quit lookin’ at me like I kicked you or somethin’.”

Frowning shallowly and trying to pretend like I’m not, I glance away and commit to rearranging my face—but at the glimpse of that twitch at the corner of his mouth in my periphery, I know I’m only digging a deeper grave for myself. The noticeable heat of my embarrassment must please him.

Playing with the food. 

And I’ve got nothing to say to him—not a single word or phrase up to par, nothing to measure up to Rust’s clinical detachment, let alone destabilise him. He might’ve been reciting the coroner’s report. There’s nothing I can say to scathe him—and fuck, I want to leave a mark, prove to him that I can. I scan him for weakness, but either I’m still too stunned to see it or there is none. I have no plan of attack and no line of defence. 

Rust seems to soften in the knowledge of this. 

“I mean,” he begins, knowing now that I’m really listening, “identity ain’t fixed – it’s not permanent. I don’t scrutinise my appearance. I don’t mind my body, and my body don’t mind me. My personality hardly feels under my control – ‘s just somethin’ that is and will be—‘n’, I guess, will change, but only against my will, never because of it. Feels pointless to feel insecure about that.”

Is this supposed to be some fucked-up attempt at advice?

My priorities changed, but this place never has, never does, never will. So, it’s all dumb and the people are dumb and this bar is dumb and the boys at the precinct are dumb and, fuck, I wish Rust were dumb, too. I feel pathetic, and he does not alleviate that feeling at all. If he were dumb, I could laugh at him and make myself feel better. I could laugh at myself for sleeping with a dumb man. Instead, I think of him religiously and crave his approval. Afflicted with the knowledge that he needs to be corrupted to want me, that I’m awful enough to want it enough to corrupt him again. Tainted waters. It would be so much more comfortable if I could look down on him.

My skin writhes and ripples, and I know the only thing that would soothe it is if he touched me. Jesus and the sick man—or some polluted version of that.

My world swings under a bout of nausea as it begins to spiral – the beer does not help. 

Maybe he’s waiting it out, like I’m trying to. Forgetting is the wisest decision anyone could make, the most fortunate outcome. Though, my efforts are paradoxical: I think so, so much about not thinking about it all. 

“Sure seems like y’think about yourself a good deal, too, s’don’t you criticise me,” I mumble, clumsy. It’s a mistake to even open my mouth again – he’ll use it all against me eventually. 

Rust hums again, low, some muscle twitching in his jaw, like his body has no clue what to do when not blindly occupied with a cigarette. “Never said I don’t think about myself,” he rectifies, staring at the sweaty palms I’m wringing together tightly against the lip of the table. 

I allow my mouth to pool with saliva, trying to combat the increasing dryness of my mouth. 

“Guess the thinkin’ part is where insecurity comes from in the first place,” I add after swallowing.

When my eyes dart up to look at him, his are on my throat.

Immediately, I look away.

Maybe this is the bad kind of intimacy.

The intensity of his attention is looming, sifting through my thoughts like sand.

Sometimes, I think he has me figured out but just couldn’t care less about what he’s found. He’s feeling the power of my burning desire for him – maybe it amuses him. Maybe he’s waiting to mechanise it, letting me sit idle while a use for me finds him (if ever). Maybe I know things. Maybe I can break things open. Maybe he can take my cases from me. Maybe I can tire him out, put him to sleep. 

It’s almost worse that he hasn’t put me to work yet. 

Maybe it really was just something in the water. Maybe all I need is to visit somebody close to me. 

“Ever heard o’ that theory? ‘bout internal monologue?” Rust asks softly, leaning in and tipping his head down like only I’m worthy of hearing this here. 

My leg jerks and I can’t place why. I nod, face hot. 

“I think ‘s bullshit—‘bout some not having one. Think everybody’s got that voice in their heads.” He pauses, squints. “Mm, maybe that’s a little generous.” 

I laugh – I hope it makes him feel good. In truth, I know he couldn’t care less. 

“What d’you think it’d be like? No voice.”

The world seems so close right now, wrapping its fuzzy arms tight around us, buzzing in my ears, shadows fur-soft over my face. What does he want me to say? I wish he’d tell me, offer me respite. 

I shrug, and it’s honest, my resignation. “No voice don’t mean no thought.”

“Alrigh’. Then, what about no thought?”

I shrug again. “I like thinking.”

He huffs, angling himself back away from me. Have I disappointed him? Somewhere deep in the pit of my tummy, there’s that fleck of worry, something that tastes an awful lot like vomit. 

I expect him to finally stop talking. 

But “I get tired of it,” is what he says instead. “In between cases, or these—moments where I feel like I could burn a hole through myself ‘f I spent ’nough thought on it. ‘s heavy, like they weigh me down.” He pushes the ashtray away, his fingers the only part of him moving. 

Swept up in the rising tide of your own life, hurting around you in some never-ending circle or spiral of which you happen to be the centre. Swimming with black-eyed angels. I know how he feels – I used to feel that way. Maybe I still do, sometimes. Clinging on to the tenderness my husband used to have for me like it could save me from the guilt I would feel when I moved on. No-one would pull me out: that much was true enough. That memory of stability, of the good times, only depressed me, moving from Brooklyn back to Louisiana. Feeling small in my own life, like a piece on a chessboard, with no semblance of control, only duty, chasing this idea of who I used to be. Hunting down the bad men, wondering what upper hand is driving them across the squares, contemplating the carpenter that fashioned the pieces. Too big of a big picture can be detrimental. The fact that I know this to be true doesn’t make me an exception. 

“I think you’re tired of the things you think about,” I muse, a headache beginning to expand between my temples – perhaps the heat has finally gotten to my head. “Space better occupied by other shit.” 

I’m careful not to pay attention to Rust’s reaction, if there even is one, since the weight of his interest is pressing over my face where I really wish his lips would.

“Like what?” he challenges. 

His eyes glint with curiosity, a blade’s sharp edge. 

I bite my tongue. 

“You think you know me?” It’s more a statement than a question.

I shrug. “You think you know me, don’t ye?”

Though, he kinda does. I think he’s proud that he can read me, but maybe that’s me overcomplicating things. Maybe I’m just another person to him. I wonder if he thinks I’m predictable. Boring, negligible, painfully average. Good for one thing, and that one thing was a mistake, anyway. 

Look at him, now: his eyes have dropped to elsewhere, but there’s a soft smirk that curls up on his face, the hint of a pink tongue that traces lightly over his teeth. 

Geraci always talks shit about that look whenever Rust closes yet another case, securing a tough confession. “So fuckin’ up ‘imself, ain’t he? Jesus.” Sure, he pisses me off—for different reasons. I’ve long since come to the conclusion that he’s worthy of admiration. 

He smiles to himself – I don’t trust it. “You’re calling me arrogant.”

“Are you?” I press, gnawing at the inside of my cheek. I’m surprised at the tepidity of my voice, considering how I’m covered in boils and burns in my head. 

He doesn’t have anything to say to that, only hums in response, seemingly amused. 

“Doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” I murmur. “People are scared of bein’ known, so nobody really tries no more.”

“I don’t observe people for intimacy purposes.”

Then why does he fucking look at me like that? 

A year ago, I’d have put it down to my own desires warping my perception of reality. Really, he wasn’t interested; he was only paying me my due amount of scrutiny in order to keep his mental file of me up to date. Really, he didn’t want to touch me; really, he was just someone who fiddled with his own hands, maybe to remind himself that he could be his own from time to time. Lust is such a dangerous thing – any deeper than surface level, and it has the very strong potential to kill you. If you want something against your better judgement, do you really even want it? The haze of having Rust come so close to me is dampened by such doubts.

But at this point, he either wants me, or I’m crazy. Shit, maybe I’d rather be just that. I’ve seen his eyes like this—dark and bottomless—when hands were unzipping my skirt, or dragging over my skin. To deny intimacy? Now that’s arrogance. Anddelusion. Shit, and I thought he was so above all that stuff. Does he think I can’t figure him out?

Surely his opinion of me can’t be that poor. 

My hand cramps up as I punch down the instinct to pinch the bridge of my nose. 

“Sure you do,” I press. And I’m right. I hope I’m right. 

His stare thickens into something different, what I think might be a black, molten form of gratification. Then, it hardens, cools in a split second into these tough, jaw-breaker pellets. I’d say it was confrontational, but then his eyes flutter just as he happens to swallow thickly. Is that his pulse in his throat? 

I rub at my puffy eyes with a stiff set of fingers.

Rust drops his eyes, brushes his hand over the side of his blazer where his cigarettes are sitting warm and ready beneath. 

“What, you—lonely again or some shit?” he asks. 

I almost recoil at the sudden bitterness of his tone. 

I snort good-heartedly, but, really, the comment stings just right—he knows where to press—all the breath knocked out of my chest. “O-kay, Rust. That an accusation?”

“No. ’S an observation. Thought you jus’ loved those,” he combats flatly.

Chest burning, I have to save myself, jump ship, and look away. My mouth tastes like grainy bile. 

“You were lonely last summer. That’s why you came to me.”

The dim light above us flickers, his face phasing in and out of shadow before me like a candle in the wind. 

I roll my jaw. 

Does he look back on it with disdain? 

“No,” I snap instinctively, instantly burned by the satisfaction that crosses his eyes. 

My breath hitches plaintively. Every fibre of my body trembles and burns to defend myself. There’s not a single word that could repair his opinion of me.

“Or—yeah.” Shut up. 

I rub at my temple, desperate for relief – do they have pills for this shit? – which does not come. If he feels any pity for me, it certainly doesn’t show. 

The harsh line of my mouth trembles. “I just thought you understood me. Or made an attempt to, at least, but maybe that part was self-projection. ‘Cause nobody ‘round here’s like you. I know you think that’s stupid and I was being naïve or—” I swallow though my throat is dry as ever, “—or dumb, or somethin’, but that’s what I felt. At the time.”

His gaze is fixed on my neck.

“At the time,” he echoes. It’s a question, I realise after a couple moments.

“Yeah. Fuck y'want me to say, asshole? 'm not—I’m not gonna embarrass myself with you, Rust. That what you want me to do? Show you just how dumb I can get—?”

“Sure like to speak for me, hm?” he bites back quietly, making it so damn easy to run right over him, to feverishly stamp out that insufferable fucking softness to his voice. Shit, I wish he’d just raise it and yell at me already.

“—Yeah, whatever. You like this shit, don’t you? Y’think you deserve a fight?—well, I’ll give you one. That what you want? ‘Cause what?—what, you get to ignore me, pretend I don’t exist, act like you’re above fuckin’ me—” his eyes flit away, bringing my roiling frustration to a crest, “—No, don’t you fuckin’ look away,” I scold, a bite, jutting a crooked finger into his space. 

He obeys, but that look in his pale eyes is so hollow, it almost makes me feel bad for saying anything at all. Almost. 

I try to press down my anger, but it’s spilling over, now, far beyond things so trivial as control. I clasp my hands together in a prayer that they will finally listen to me and not move again. 

“Fact that you feel anything at all makes you feel like shit, huh?”

His expression has glazed over, cool and smooth.

Half-expecting him to walk out and rightfully abandon me here, I stare hard at him, like I might chip into that exterior. If I managed it, I’d slip it in my pockets as proof. Silently, I beg him to prove me right. 

“Sorry,” I snap. No, I’m not. I hope it cuts at him. “You do what you want, I don’t fuckin’ care. But, please, do not patronise me like that again, Rust.” 

God offers no help with the silent plea I send Him. He does not care, so I shouldn’t care, and that’s the end of things. I’ve survived worse natural disasters than him. He’s just a man, and this is just what happens with them. Still, the disappointment floods like poison under my skin. I’m a stupid girl, really. 

“I understand if you regret things, but you don’t have to say it out loud. It’s mean. But, fuck, I dunno, maybe you mean to be.” 

I take a moment to untangle the knot in my throat. He watches it all, quiet again, his eyeline sitting heavy over where the skin shifts and stretches over my neck. 

I adjust the collar of my shirt, fiddle with the gold necklace that sits hot over the contour of bone. Rust stares as I wedge the small pendant tightly in the vice of my thumb and forefinger. 

“Feels like you don’t even fuckin’ like me half the time. All the time.”

Christ, I should’ve left with Johansson. 

My heart is racing like a wild mustang – it’s a surprise, really, that that old hunting dog lying over by the bar hasn’t noticed, singled me out as something to chase, to kill. My belly’s exposed, soft and ripe and asking for it. I forget, sometimes, that there are things out there that kill things that kill, too. 

He doesn’t plan on giving me a break; I wouldn’t deserve it, anyway. “Wha's it matter to you if I like you or not?”

My cheeks burn furiously. 

I stare at that bone-bird tattoo that fledges from the nest of his sleeve. With the way my head’s spinning, it almost looks like its skeleton wings are actually moving, unfurling and ready for pilgrimage. 

“It don’t.” It’s a disgrace to myself to answer that god-awful question, but what’s more pathetic is the way I shrink into myself when Rust’s attention crowds in over my face. “I jus’ thought you knew me almost as well as I did.” 

“And currently?” he asks.

The moment hangs. 

“Just answer. I already know – just wanna see if you’ll lie again.” 

I close my eyes a second—mistake—and breathe, breathe in and then breathe out, shaky but slow. It’s no use. 

“Same.”

He nods. “Not better?”

I shake my head. “No, never better.”

Furrowing his brow, Rust tilts his head down slightly, a soft curl falling gentle over his tense forehead. “But you wanted intimacy.”

So it is intimacy to him? 

Maybe this should count as a win for me, but it certainly don’t feel like it. This isn’t the slow slip and slide of last summer’s end – though the heat had swallowed whole everything from here to the other side of the Mississippi, there was something so clipped about the words that left me, left him. I’m sure I was more drunk then than now, but, even so, my mind had been so level, like I’d done it all in my sleep. Now, here, I have done it in my sleep. I’ve revisited him a hundred times in my daydreams, but all that practice has left me for dead. I would’ve killed for an opportunity like this a month ago – it’s like he’s taunting me. It should be easy. 

Rust is smart enough to make me wonder if he wants me to feel this way. 

Intimacy is planned and eventual, whether that’s due to his power or some cosmic fate. Everyone knows the decision they’re going to make, somewhere in their brains, deep inside. People only ask for advice to condone their decisions, to spread out the responsibility, which, at the end of the day, still remains solely with them. Shit, he’s rubbing off on me: I sound like a fuckin’ asshole. 

No, all this thinking won’t save him from the sensation of human feeling, emotions. No amount of planning prepares you for skin-to-skin touch. No time spent evaluating can undo it either, and I’ve tried so hard. His way doesn’t work. 

“Everyone wants intimacy,” I end up rambling, voice thin and dry and brittle. “Even folks that don’t want intimacy want intimacy. ’s not love or sex, really, I don’t think, though those are good, too. It’s not a way to find yourself. It’s jus’ trust. Or companionship—”

“And that’s what you want?”

Carefully, I rake my eyes over his face. Does he ever flush from the heat? 

Hopeless and too muddled to bother with concealing it, I try to assess whether he’s displeased with me. I try to memorise this moment, so I’ll be able to turn it over in my head later, just another one of my crime scene photographs. 

“Dunno yet,” I confess quietly. “I’ve had partners. And partners. When I was younger, I thought I’d have this life packed chock full of amazing relationships, and these—connections.”

The soft, disappointed eyes of my husband come to mind, which haunt all my relationships. I’m so hungry for another body, for connection. Why does it seem so easy for other people? 

“Truth is, it don’t happen all that much. To me, at least. You?”

Surly and bone-tired, Rust shakes his head. “Didn’t have much hope for it growin’ up,” he admits. 

“But you wanted it,” I press, clumsy and clinging to the sag of his voice. Of course, he’ll pick up on the trace of hopeful, aimless, false victory that undercuts my words; he’s the only one who ever could. 

For a moment, though, I second-guess myself. 

It’s pathetic, really: I’d give almost anything to walk as him for a day, though, even then, I’m not sure I’d understand him any better.

Sometimes, my imagination runs away from me: in my dreams, I do. I wake under the impression that we’re one and the same, that, just maybe, he, similarly, is dreaming as me. It’s a pulsing obsession, difficult to conceal. Whenever a moment becomes still, I think about it: at night, he is transported; in his dreams, he touches with my hands, sighs with my voice, tastes with my mouth. Then, at least, that would explain these funny sensations I get in the morning: so weathered and worn, a strange ache in my muscles, like I’ve been sleepwalking.

How else could he know me so well? 

Or maybe I’ve really fucking lost it. Somewhere along the way – maybe after seeing that half-eaten body swaddled in thin cotton in its freezer cradle – I think something else took the wheel. Why that thing is racing towards him, I have no idea. It’s laughable, really.

Rust blinks calmly down at his hands. “Reckon the deniers are dumb?” he murmurs. 

Squeezing the bridge of my nose, I do my best to press back against the foul memory of dismembered limbs. Whoever had eaten the man—who was now beyond recognition—did they feel satisfied? Comforted with how forever close he was to them now? When I was small, I used to think sex was crawling into another person's body, like a cave, and letting all of their insides warm you, love you, wrap you tight. 

I swallow thickly. 

“Your words, not mine,” I reply through a tight smile. “Reckon it’s easy to find a distraction.”

"Have you given up?" he asks. “Finding a distraction?”

I don’t entertain him with a proper answer to that – I merely shrug and scratch at my scalp, tucking loose strands of sweaty hair back into the loops of my braid. Rust must be frustrated with me. To want a companion, to want the good life. Rivalling Marty in my delusion. 

He slides his hands into his lap, continuing: “Distraction is the way to peace?”

I shrug again – I think it’s starting to piss him off. “For a time, I guess.” 

“So, ‘s that how you’re takin’ quittin’? Think about other stuff whenever you want a smoke? Occupy yourself?”

Once I realise my leg is going dead, fuzzy from sitting still so long in this dark booth, I flex my thigh, flex my hands under the table, wide-open and then tight-shut, processing the blank slate of his gaunt face. I press my fingers into the sticky vinyl, delight in the interrupted drag of them up, up, up as they curl to fists, my shoulders up to my ears. 

When he says things like that, it makes it so hard to dislike him. I almost wish he’d ignore me, like he did the first couple weeks before it became clear to the both of us that it couldn’t be undone: his back constantly to me, sending messages only through Marty, refusing to look in my direction, like I might tempt him again into being a version of him he hated. At least, before, his coldness hadn’t been directed at me specifically. Then, it was a retaliation, a wall meant to keep me out. Where were his books on philosophy then?—to tell him that attachment leads to desire leads to suffering? That kind of suffering would be better than this kind. 

This is worse. This is so much worse. I’d rather not have something at all than have it toy with me like this. 

It takes a considerable amount of co-ordination to fabricate the apathy in my posture, my eyes, my expression, to compensate for the unease that pulses like a new artery in my throat – though, at the silvery glint that flickers in his eyes, I know it’s all for nothing. He’s already seen the hurt that, really, I can’t pin on anyone but myself. He’s raking his eyes slowly over my face. It’s fucking mean. Do me the favour of a mercy-killing, God.

I never even told him I was trying to quit.

“What,” I begin, concentrating very hard on keeping myself from stammering and from slurring, from crying and from grasping at his hand, “like that association thing?” 

I’ve heard of it, obviously. I know every trick at this point: old wives’ tales to the latest research papers at the state university library. It’s psychological: whenever you want something, instead, think of awful, gross, repulsive things, and make yourself hate it. I’ve tried it before, but it doesn’t always work. How can you convince yourself that one thing is disgusting when it’s undeniable how good it really was?

Rust nods.

“I mean, I tried it,” I tell him lowly. 

Overstatement: I tried it for approximately three days and two nights before I caved, unlocking the drawer in my study with shaky, desperate hands, hungry.

“But I’m always thinkin’ about it.”

Shit. He seems to have regained a nerve: Rust stares calmly ahead at me—not through me or just past me; at me. This is what I wanted, isn’t it?

He leans his weight over his forearms upon the table, on offence. Is this how he works his suspects? Well, shit, I’ve studied his methods from the privacy of the other side of the false mirror enough times to be able to answer that, actually: this is how he works his suspects. Initially, at least, to gauge their personality, their wants, their fears, what they need him to be. 

Thing is, I can’t pin down his intention with me. Is it just the satisfaction of the kill? Or maybe revenge for what I did to him last August. I broke down his walls: an unforgivable sin. I condemned him to the effort of building them back up, of shoving me out—if I ever managed to intrude in the first place. Maybe I deserve this. 

With his sleeves folded back, the dark lines of Rust’s tattoo jut out, growing along his tawny, leather-tan skin like lichen. I try not to stare.

His eyes complete a pre-emptive scan of my face, and, really, I know I should not let him see any change there in my expression, though my mouth twitches to frown. I try to gather my forces. I try to prepare myself for it, for that inevitable intrusion.

“‘f you’re so desperate for it, why’re you fightin’ back?” he asks, unblinking and cruel. 

My mouth twists, and I let it fall into the frown it wants. “‘Cause I wanted to feel better.”

It sounds dumb because it is dumb, even though it’s true. 

Low, he hums. He straightens, softens, and finally leans away. It’s like the vacuum around me leaves with him, and, there, now, it’s easier to breathe. 

He must note the way my chest rises and falls so stiffly, like there’s a weight resting over my heart. 

“Withdrawal’s a breeze, ain’t it?”

“You’re not fuckin’ funny,” I scoff, digging my nails punishingly into my palm. He smokes and drinks like he welcomes cancer, or hopes for it, so I don’t think we’re on a level playing field.

He quirks his head. “Well, do you?”

“Do I what, Rusty?” 

Amused, he rolls his jaw. Good – I hope I’ve provoked him. 

“Do you feel better?” 

I run my tongue over my teeth. “Sometimes,” I reply truthfully. “Not right now.”

He searches my face. 

“I can give you a ride home,” he offers. 

Fuck, and what will that be like? Ten times worse than this. I’ll come away the husk of a woman, worn down by his disapproval. My own fault for wanting anything from him in the first place, really. 

Teeth gritted together, I shake my head, ready to pull a muscle in my damn neck. “Didn’t mean anythin’ by it. Sorry.” 

No, I’m not. I ought to slap him, and then run away, back home, or back to my house, or to a brand new city. Or he could finally cuss me out, save me the wondering. Then, I could lick my wounds and they would finally stop reopening. 

I scratch at my scalp. 

Rust eyes my hand like he’d like to rip the bad habit away from my body. For a moment, I think he will—the tendons in his hand flex and writhe under the skin—but, no, he only brushes a thumb against the valley between his nose and cheek, and he holds his tongue for once. 

“Wasn’t offended,” he corrects firmly. “I’ll take you home.”  

Flashing with annoyance, my eyes dart up viciously to penalise him. “And what?” I hiss. 

He sits back, doesn’t answer the question.  

Jaw clenched, I wait to see if he’ll look away, but he doesn’t. 

My irritation soon fizzles through, condenses to a low, simmering understanding, steadily tended to by the intensity of his steadfast gaze. 

Oh. 

My eyes soften. 

Oh – I have him, don’t I?

He shows no signs of the tentativeness he had displayed last time—if Rust could ever be tentative. His eyes do not shift and scuttle around me; they meet mine, challenging my comfort. He does not tuck himself into a corner; he remains leaned over the table, just like that. How could I have known? 

I stare back, brow pinched in confusion. 

In the heat of last August, I’d peeled away from him knowing exactly how I’d convinced him he wanted me. Maybe I was evil for it – a good person wouldn’t use somebody’s faults against them, would they? And maybe that’s what it was: selfish. If he hates me, he’d be right to. 

Which is why I’m so puzzled that he doesn’t. Or rather, indifference was the baseline. Hell. And this? I don’t know. 

Swelling dangerously with the well-loved memory of his delirious mouthings over my skin, I grow rigid.

My temples throb and ache, the threat of tears still very real.

“Mind?” he asks – I watch, wide-eyed, as he pulls a pack of Camels from his pocket. 

Trembling slightly, I shake my head, though saliva is already pooling over the pit of my tongue, warm and soft, just like my desire. Luckily, he’s too preoccupied with his lighter to see it: how my body ripples at the scrape of his voice. 

The promise of nicotine dances like a phantom in the mouth, just from watching him place a cigarette between his lips. When he flicks open his Zippo, the sharp, shuddering candle of it taunts me, and I finally understand what they say about moths and flames.

I watch him take a long drag.

That all-consuming hunger lurches up in me again, and I swallow the warm spit that’s steadily been filling my mouth. 

Oh, Christ. This can’t be real. Desire shouldn’t be this bloody. Desire shouldn’t be the thing with teeth and claws, the ugly thing that tips into violence. Or obsession. With how often my thoughts return to us in the summer, I’ve wondered obsession as a possibility. The difference between myself and those who commit crimes of passion is control. Rust is dangerous for me. What is he thinking? What’s in his head? I ache to pry it open and explore, to swim close to him, for my skin to melt into his, to consume and be consumed. Not a moment’s peace, and that’s what I’m chasing, isn’t it? Peace and quiet?

I don’t have to say anything – he can read it all, mulling over the fine changes in my expression, the softening of my body, some pre-emptive instinct. Will he touch me tonight? 

With a cautious hand, ready to jolt back if met with teeth, I reach out to him and remove the cigarette from his pinched fingers—which he allows—then bringing it to my mouth, taking a drag myself, nice and slow, good and deep, a sigh, like home.

He watches me.  

“Don’t say anything.”  

And he doesn’t. He just watches, watches, watches as I take another drag. He shivers, and I feel it reverberate through my bones.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” I ask him softly, pressing down a quivering breath, smoking his cigarette. I’ve never mustered the courage to ask before.  

For once, though, I really don’t have to: I know exactly where his head is. Where else? He’s back in that room, infected by the drowse and drunken fever of August, with me, living it again. Where I’d coaxed him into the temptation, wicked as the snake in the garden. He should’ve pushed me to leave with Johansson and Marty – of course, I would’ve stayed. I’m a rotten thing, and my heart is a bloodhound. He’s the better of the two of us. I’ll take whatever of him I can get – anything. 

He meets my eyes directly, so hopeless, so raw. Is he asking? He shouldn’t be. 

But what will he have me do? I’m at his disposal, really.

“And?” I ask, throat dry. 

When he moves to speak, the words that leave him are low and slow: “You did something to me,” he manages. 

I scoff. 

“S’that a good or bad thing?” I ask.

Rust huffs like what I said was funny. More likely, though, it’s the way my eyes are so wide, the way my hand is pressed between my thighs, that amuses him. “Can’t decide.”

My mouth trembles as my eyes scrape over his neck, which I know, I remember, to be hot and alive, thick with it over the pulse. I was so high off of it: his warmth, his weight, his press. 

I indulge in one last drag, using the last scraps of my energy to conjure the pungent stench of rotting flesh in the cruel sunshine, the pick of eager flies and their cacophonous buzzing, the churn of vomit in the stomach. I look at Rust and try to do the same: the months of silence, his back decidedly turned to me, him accepting my case, and his arrogance and his apathy and his severity. He is a harrowing connection that I should rather not have made.

The technique doesn’t work. I don’t know why I thought, even for a minute, that this time would be different from the last. 

With him staring calmly at me, like I deserve it—the trap, the squirming sensation over my spine, the hopeless, unavoidable heat that claims my face—it’s just another arrow pointing to the same conclusion. Maybe we should just let August have its way with us again. Twin plagues.

Trembling ever so slightly, blood so warm, so thick, I flick ashes out into the tray between us. 

“I should put this out,” I mumble, though my hand yearns to return it to my mouth. 

“’s my cigarette,” Rust mutters.

“Sorry.” I offer my hand to him. “Want it back?”

I know what I must look like to him, pupils dark, the size of the moon, like a plate. Here, in the darkest part of the dark bar, I open myself to him, warm, molten, inviting. And God, this must be a dream—because I know what he wants, and I know that he’ll accept me. How we got here doesn’t matter anymore. Maybe he’s thought about it for some time, and only now, in a moment of stillness with him, have I even noticed. Too caught up in the fine details of a painting to think of the artist’s intention, which is always more important.

Silent, stare inexorable, he accepts the cigarette, only touching my fingers quick, like I’d burn him. Maybe I will. Serves him right: he was always going to haunt me either way. I ought to get mine while I still can.

The hunger laps at me.

I want to coax him open-wide. I want to peel away his demeanour and wrap myself close to him. Body heat is the best way to keep warm, isn’t it? I’m sure I read about that somewhere. It’s still fresh in my mind, like a cut. I can’t manage a day without playing it over at least once. I want it again: I want to breathe him in and let him sit in my chest and seep into every cell and let him be part of me that way, at least until the next breath.

He can see it in my eyes: the freneticism of my thoughts, racing like a storm, desires like bullets like rain.

“You ever think about what you want?” I try asking him, voice strained tight over my heart in my throat. 

“People only ever think about what they want,” he parries, batting away any trace of diffidence. He secures his cigarette between his lips, shifting. “Let’s leave.”

At his first movement, I slide out of the booth. 

Sometime during our conversation, the place emptied out. It must have been around when I finished Marty’s leftover beer that the weight of the locals’ beady stares—which had already faded to the back of my mind, in the same way that a dark alleyway can still make you uneasy though you know nothing would ever happen to you there—finally left me. There are no witnesses left to see me following after Rust like a dog, my body thrumming like the lone bug zapper out on the porch, which cracks! just as we exit. 

The broken clock reads three o’clock when we leave, but I know that, really, it’s only midnight.

Fortunately, the heat has cracked for once, like old, beat-up, splitting leather. Stepping out onto that night path, the breeze is warm and fragrant, dancing over my cheeks, playing gently with the loose threads of my hair. It’s a clear, blue, never-ending night – the dirt road which accompanies us is a long, winding, indigo river that spills unseen over the far, far horizon. The neighbouring fields—one a rolling stretch of grass; the other of wheat—are alive in the wind, flung one way on exhale, drawn the other upon inhale. 

Thank God for the noise of it: their rustling whispers, in a language we can’t understand; the soft whistle of a passing gust of air; the firm, crisp crunch of dry mud and dust under my boots. Thank God for the sway of things: the cradle of humidity; the press of my arm to Rust’s, which he permits only for a second, with his face angled away. Then, he slows, coming to walk just behind me, still parallel.

Flickering strands of long-grass brush my knuckles – I grab onto one, pull the seeds off it in an easy swipe, and scatter them as we go, one by one. 

Briefly, I glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, his eyes are fixed on me, on my every movement, like he’s making sure I’m actually real. The corner of my mouth twitches up into a smile. 

Rust’s cigarette flares between his lips. 

I scratch gently at my wrist, reminded of the flowing of my blood just beneath the skin, hot and thick.

You get nowhere in life just hoping things will fall into your lap like this—and, anyway, what good is getting something that you didn’t work for? Where’s the gratification? It’s artificial, feeble as plastic. Christ, it was even a struggle to get my head around Johansson and his propensity to dole out favours. I understood a write-up – won’t pretend I’m above ass-kissing – but tidying up the office kitchen and keeping quiet about it? I thought it was stupid: letting people reap the rewards of your own effort, and for what?

So, the buzz of earning Rust’s touch that first time?—shit, nothing compared. No drug, no high; nothing. I really thought I did something. Satisfied some secret ambition I didn’t know I held. To have him like that. To be able to replay that night, swallow it like a pill. To look at him and know what was underneath his clothes and his skin, and perhaps further inside, too. Shit, I took so much from him, but the mental gymnastics of the effort justified it, right? And, now, he’s going to give it all up again. Wants it, even.

Haven’t I played this out a thousand times in my head? I’ve seen the future—a number of futures—where I’m able to argue for his affection. Fight for your love – that’s what my daddy used to tell me whenever he was feeling sentimental after yelling.

I’ve had endless conversations with him in my head, edited accordingly as time passed, as he changed, as I changed, as the air between us changed. Possible flirtation seemed silly, futile, after a week. Sex appeal would go unnoticed by him – wasn’t like he looked, anyway. Not the type to chase tail. I found myself longing for him to please linger uncomfortably in doorways to rooms I was in, to leave things near me and come and collect them just after I was gone so that, maybe, he’d still feel the warmth of my presence and understand it was only ever warm that way for him. The idea of genuine confession always sprung up during the quiet nights alone together in the bullpen, but I was always able to talk myself out of it when he wouldn’t so much as glance at me after two, three hours.

It must be a million threads of conversation up in my head, which is why I guess it’s so hard to untangle the great knot and retrieve just one, because, now, there are no words that come to mind when it matters. Or maybe it doesn’t matter: I don’t think he needs convincing at all.

“What you so quiet for?” he asks faintly. 

When I look back, he’s stark against the brooding sky like some shadow-man. His outline hums like he’s pulling away into his own silhouette. 

I can’t seem to smile. “Nothin’.” 

He won’t push—at least, not on this—and I’m glad for it. 

Rust’s beat-up semi is all lonely sat in a dip up in the road, waiting for us. Same semi he’d driven me home in from work this one week I was getting my car fixed up, in which a series of slow, mutual interrogations would take place along the light-streaked highway. In the office, you were lucky to drag a full sentence out of Rust, but, alone, it wasn’t so hard to get him to talk at all.

Maybe I had just wanted to be better than him, to learn how he worked, how he was such a good interrogator, and bleed him dry. That was why I couldn’t look away: every choice in his demeanour could help me surpass him.

Even then, I learned to be careful with my looks. I had the feeling he��d morph into something else if I stared long enough, the way the shadow in the corner of your bedroom changes shape when you’re bone-tired. Sometimes, he would. And on the Thursday night of that week, when he had pulled over and thrown up, shaking, into the dark thrush, I hadn’t uttered a word as he climbed back into the driver’s seat. But, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, I’d stared at him with the filmy eyes of a hungry nocturnal animal.

Then, at least, the curiosity wasn’t a burden. Not like it became when I drove myself home come that morning after.

I could tell it was different the moment I shifted awake, feigning a sleep for just a couple more minutes.

Dressed again and putting on a pot of coffee, his back was to me. I had shuffled up, pulled on my clothes, and I knew the stupor of the night had faded. So, really, when I stepped past him and he closed the door behind me without a word, I shouldn’t have been upset. 

When I reach the pick-up first, I twist to look at him. 

Rust has slowed to finish his cigarette at a safe distance, eyeing me warily.

He crushes the stub into the dirt, then glancing out into the long night. 

“Straight home?” he asks. 

I shake my head, and the rigid line of him gives just a little. It’s so dangerous to be seduced by your own influence, but the realisation that I’ve had any at all is fuel enough to the plea in my wide eyes.

Rust advances haltingly. If I move, I’m sure he’ll flinch and bolt. So, I test the theory: better to weed out what’s already decayed.

I angle myself towards him, open like a door. He tosses his jacket into the bed of his pickup, stepping through.

The heat seeps back between us, slow and thick like a flood of molasses, and it becomes very clear, suddenly, that we never should’ve tried to barricade ourselves. Pretty sure Rust’s known this a while, anyways: he’s the one who leans in for me, kisses me slow.

This time, his hands are quick to curl around my body, where the tension in that tight cord all down his spine has snapped. Or just eased up on him—but that’s unlikely. And unimportant. With his firm touch petting up my spine, climbing each rung, it’s all unimportant.

A pulse of arousal strikes me like an electric current as Rust pulls the blouse out of my skirt, his face close to me.

His tongue pushes into my mouth again, and I hum over the husk of nicotine. It’s a haze in the brain, one I’ve missed. My skin tingles and my thoughts warp in this leer, like a nic rush, only I haven’t had one of those in years and years.

I can’t exactly call what I’m feeling satisfaction. There’s no win to this. My teeth sunk into him so sweet last time, and the thrill of getting him, of tripping him up with his own desire, was almost as good as the actual feeling of him inside me. But it’s different now: so obvious, it’s funny. Though my first instinct is to doubt and pry apart, maybe want is the most trustworthy thing a person can feel. It’s animal and instinctive, and it’s inevitable, so it’s always true. Ugly, sometimes, but always there. There’s no room to question his want, because I can taste it on his tongue, I can feel it pressing over my stomach, I can hear it in the way he hums at the sear of my skin. 

It must be a favour to me: the blatancy of it all. For however direct he may be, I’ve always felt that Rust has these plans within plans. Nothing is as it is on the surface: you have to dig to get to the good stuff. It’s disorienting, having it all laid out for me. And I’ll take anything he gives me.

I don’t want to leave any room for doubt in his mind either. 

So, I clutch at him hungrily, so drunk on his warmth, and thump my back against the door he opens for me to close it again.

I don’t ask, and I’m glad that he doesn’t make me, only presses my body flush against the cool surface of his side-door, until the only part of me free to move are the fingers that curl over his arms, as if they could sink through the fabric and then the flesh underneath. There’s only dogs and ghosts out at this hour, anyway; eyes in the long-grass. No-one but them and him to see my hips jerk against the precise hand under my skirt. 

He hadn’t looked at me this much before. Even when my eyes go glassy and I have to blink hard to try and regain my smarts, to not finish too quickly, I know he’s staring at me like a scientist.

When the next needy noise is drawn from me, I bury my face into his neck to save myself the embarrassment of being seen like this, even though it’s pointless. His fingers are dragging aside the damp fabric of my underwear anyway, sliding through my silky desire. When his knee shoves between my legs to keep apart, he changes the pressure of his hand, circles tightly over where shame does not apply. Restraint is a man-made practice that never prevails over biology. I should know this. Still, though, my face is hot as I whine into his shoulder. 

Rust doesn’t ask me to look at him, not yet, and I’m so grateful for it. I bite into the meat of him at the push of one finger, then keen all the way to my toes at the hook of two, rocking against his palm thoughtlessly as he fucks the both of them in deep.

The clink of his belt buckle barely processes through the smoke of sticky eyes and open mouths and the press of his body. But the absence of his hand from my hip, of it working between us?—that’s what ushers normal sensation back into me. I recover from the limp slump against him, but not quickly enough to understand or resist him guiding my hand to wrap around his swollen cock, coated with spit. 

He grunts as he tightens my grip around him, coaxes my hand how he wants it. In the back of my mind, though, of course I remember. Only, his fingers are so far inside that my head is spinning, teetering on the precipice of another thought I know I’ll lose, one that dissolves at the slight scrape of nail, one that would never matter as much as the soft then firm press of him against my cervix. My eyes water, and there licking at me is only a faint, abstract impression of embarrassment when Rust grips over my jaw, calloused heel of his palm heavy on my neck, and hauls me away from the hiding spaces of his body’s crevices.

“What, you fuckin’ shy now? You wanted it, so look,” he mumbles, digging his fingers into the soft parts of my face a little more, like there’s some hidden button beneath the surface that can make my droopy eyes fly back open. There must be because, somehow, it works. He angles my face by the scruff of my neck.

I can only stand to look between us for a few jumpy heartbeats before my eyes settle on the comfort of his even face, which he seems to accept readily, breath hitching. He does not blink. The intensity of his observations hounds me, lights me up like points on a star, even when my vision smears and melts at the dizzying curl of his fingers. Lucky for my weak knees he’s got his hand over the nape of my neck, his thighs pinning my own. I shake against him, some pathetic thing, and tremble when he keeps massaging there deep inside.

“Don’t go dumb on me, girl,” Rust scolds quietly when my hand loosens around him, his own having to leave the heat of my neck and come down to correct the pressure, the pull. My head lolls without the support of his hand. “Ain’t gon’ say nothin’?” 

Words spill uselessly into a pool before me, slipping through my fingers. My pulse slams in my throat, lower, too, against his touch, each beat meeting him as he works me over again. 

What I manage is a choked noise, all clogged up inside. I have little to do with it: just a body, a heartbeat and a compulsion to be near, nearer, nearest to him. Half a mind that’s lagging worse than the computers at work, that realises far too late that the body is curling into itself again, so tight, so wet, and fuck, fuck. 

He removes his fingers, that slow drag, and tells me to turn. When I don’t—completely without, dull and aching—Rust twists and shoves me against the window, which goes cloudy at the breathy moan pushed up from my slack stomach. 

Slow-like, a cold hand snakes under my shirt, smooths up my burning spine, all the way up, all the way down, hooking in the waistband of my skirt, knuckles burrowing into the soft dimples in my back. My whole body shivers as he slides his palm over the back of my neck—a comfort for which I’m desperate to become familiar—and squeezes gently. If I keep my eyes open, all I can see of him is that black silhouette in the window, a reflection. A homogenous mass, humming at the edges, devoid of the detail of things: can’t see the way he drags his thumb up along the line of my spine, traces where it meets the skull; nor the way he steps forward, teases the air out of my lungs, enjoys it, tugs my hips closer to him by the gusset of the underwear webbed between my thighs; nor the way the cool metal buckle presses red lines into flesh. 

The sight of Rust doesn’t matter so much as the understanding that it’s him behind me, that it’s his truck my cheek is being pressed into, that it’s his—fuck—that it’s him sliding through the heat of me, so close. The tip notches and makes it all the easier for my eyes to flutter shut. It helps with the vertigo that follows the rough push of him inside. 

My fingers grasp for the little ridges in the door. Best place for them ends up to be under my mouth, though, to keep my head on my shoulders, to muffle the noises I was sure only animals made. My knee jerks sharply against the truck at the first white-hot pulse of pleasure – I hiss, smearing the drool at the edge of my mouth with the back of my hand, so glad he isn’t in clear enough line of sight to chastise me with his tendency to notice and never forget. 

But he knows—he must fucking know by now—because the heavy hand clasped over my scruff curls around my face, and Rust forces two fingers into my parted mouth, presses over my soft tongue. 

He pulls himself out just to feel the total length of me taking him again, so painfully slow. Feel the initial resistance, the spongy give, the sweet slip, the drag, all of it. So full, I feel sick with it. Overindulgence. Knocks me weak, doesn’t mind it when I bite down on his fingers to take most of the weight out of my sob. What I take from him, he takes from me—we’re even that way—so Rust, already with his nose flirting with the crook of my sweaty neck, nips over my erratic pulse, pushes his tongue over where I’m sure he can see the skin throbbing with the violence of it. Vampire. He could draw blood and I wouldn’t mind: he knows I need bloodletting. 

So fucking dumb to think for a second it could be sated by just one time. I needed it again before it even ended – I knew it in the split second he touched me. The grief of closure was as adamant as a shadow. Stupid. He must think it, too, because, shit, the snap of his hips is mean. Punishment: you should’ve known. 

“We ought’a be in your bed. I should be fuckin’ you through your bed,” he complains gruffly, his mouth dragging over hinge of my jaw.

I moan around the fingers in my mouth, which hook together with his thumb to pinch the fleshy inside of my cheek, challenging my lost focus. No matter. There’s nothing we can do now. 

The seize of my body doesn’t take him by surprise at all, not that I expected it to, and the words that follow are easy, like he’s been thinkin’ of them as loud and clear as day as it would be to speak ‘em: “Shit, that feels good, sweet girl, huh? Tha’s it, just take it. That’s good.” And he lets the warmth gush out before stuffing it back in. “You’ll take one more.”

I stare at the endless field to the side of us, melted over the curve of his door, shivering despite the humidity that always finds you around here. I choke more on my own tongue than his fingers as Rust fucks me slow, like I deserve it.

“Need it s’bad, huh?” he drawls into the shell of my ear. “Why you gone all quiet on me, baby?—thought y’wanted it.” 

He drags his fingers out of my mouth, daring me to speak. He slides his hand between my stomach and the side-door, gliding down between the thighs, smearing my dripping arousal over the skin. 

My toes curl tight again as he pushes deeper than before, sits there like he knows my mind will do the rest of the work. The grate of his zipper as he shifts draws a mangled sound from the pit of me, not hidden by the brace of my trembling arm. 

He zeros in on my clit, all sticky, and circles tight. I shudder. 

“Give in,” he says to me in a voice so low and soft that it barely reaches me above the high frequency splitting through my skull. He rolls that bright pearl between his finger and thumb. “You feel it?” 

Mindless and eyes all milky, I still manage a nod, grateful for the mean pin of his knees against my shaking thighs. 

He hums. “So give in.” 

Fuck, this is absurd. The mind can just about string two and two together when Rust lends a forearm beside my head for me to rest on, to grip over: so he’s pictured this, wanted this, for how long? I knew the stagnancy was a front, swallowed something else, but—my mouth goes wet and slack over his forearm at the languid roll of his hips—but it wasn’t realistic to imagine it was this. Rust struck me as someone incapable of reconciling himself with his wants. Shame over acceptance because he thinks it’s atonement. Should’ve known better than to think Rust believed in redemption. 

The silhouette in the window is looking over the empty road, scanning for cars that won’t ever come—but his hand is warm under the tent of my shirt, easing over my waist, slow, as everything clamps up, trembling, again. Body and a heartbeat, he tugs my hips back to him, again and again, until he’s a hot, shuddering line all through me, face in my neck, crushing the fight out of my lungs. 

His nose presses over my cheek, and his breath is coarse there, too, panting, when he lifts his heavy head. My throat goes so loose and open, greedily drinking in the sweet-sticky scent of him. 

“C’mon, now,” he says to me once he’s pulled my underwear back up, dragging the cool, damp gusset against the mess of me for good measure. He pinches my hip, then over my thigh, like that might get me to quit shuddering. “Time to go.” 

When I don’t move, he smooths a hand gently over my hair. Tucks a loose chunk of it back into the mess of my braid before deciding it’s best if he lets it loose completely. 

Rust winds down the window as he holds open the door for me to clamber onto the bench.

“Y’can sleep ‘f you want,” he mumbles once he’s got me curled up on the seat, leaning through the frame. He tilts his head – the shadows have always hidden his eyes, but I like how the pinch in his brow has melted away at least.

If I had half a mind, I’d use it to shove his face out my goddamn way. Instead, I settle for the narrowing of my eyes and a decided huff. “Won’t.”

Lie. I fall asleep like anything, mellowed by the sweet rush of wind over marshland, the spirit of it weaving inside, and the weight of Rust’s hand tucked in the tight bend of my knee.

[astonmartinii]

pick of the crop | logan sargeant social media au

pairing: logan sargeant x fem farmer!reader

sometimes opposites attract so much that a city boy is willing to get mud on his trainers

based on this request: Logan sargeant x reader smau, where she’s like a farmer in the country, and people are surprised that they’re so different? - @indesicivelyconfuzzled

MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI?

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 611,209 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargeant: never been so thankful for a two week break in the race calendar, farm time has been overdue.

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user1: did we just unlock the farmer version of logan

user2: real ones have known farmer logan since his f2 days

oscarpiastri: ugh... couple goals i guess

yourusername: you guess?

logansargeant: you wish you were us

yourusername: let's not pit two powerful women against each other

oscarpiastri: thank you y/n

yourusername: i was talking about me and lily, y'all can fight amongst yourselves

user3: you guys are fake as fuck cause why didn't you tell me logan has a gf

user4: a farmer gf ?!?!?!?

alexalbon: so i got heat from you for @albon_pets (follow me) but your gf has a whole ass farm?

logansargeant: and what? dodger would defo take otter in a fight

yourusername: stop the violence

alexalbon: see, this is why people are confused on how you guys got together

logansargeant: i'm just standing up for my dog child ?

yourusername: leave the children out of it

user5: idk how or when this happened but i am enjoying seeing another side of logan

user6: for real haven't seen his feral side since prema

user7: two weeks on a farm will do that to you

yourusername

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yourusername: the y/ln farm takes the cota paddock, thanks @alexalbon for recommending fifi for the job of paddock drama queen

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user9: she brought a horse for her paddock debut ???

user10: idk about you guys but i am thoroughly enjoying whatever the fuck is going on right now

logansargeant: i think fifi did great (i think dan might be friends with us now)

yourusername: she's a gentle queen (omg we've made friends?)

danielricciardo: damn right you have a new friend what a STALLION

yourusername: you can ride her if you want :)

alexalbon: WE CAN?

landonorris: WE CAN?

maxverstappen1: i would like to ride the horsey

yukitsunoda0511: dan woke me up with his scream of joy so you're morally obligated to let me have a ride on fifi as well

logansargeant: well if i knew all i needed to do was bring y/n and fifi to the paddock to make friends they would've been at miami :(

user11: crying so the reports that logan was feeling really lonely were real?

user12: at least he has y/n?

oscarpiastri: cool kids have already ridden with fifi :)

logansargeant: you screamed the whole time?

oscarpiastri: semantics

danielricciardo: i'm outside williams hospitality let me in

yourusername: that was fast?

charles_leclerc: it's kinda in the job description (we're all here please let us in)

user13: the way all the teams are gonna be like where are all of our drivers and why are they all running away?

williamsf1

liked by yourusername, logansargeant and 610,994 others

tagged: logansargeant, alexalbon

williamsf1: austin you delivered !! logan and alex pick up three and four points each in logan's first points and our first double points finish of the season !!

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user14: someone tell y/n she's not allowed to go home, she's a williams employee now

liked by logansargeant

alexalbon: WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETRE I LOVE YOU AMERICA

logansargeant: 🤨🤨🤨🤨

alexalbon: don't lie you love the bit

logansargeant: no i think YOU love the bit

alexalbon: today i love YOU 😘

yourusername: 🤨🤨🤨🤨

alexalbon: i guess i love you too

yourusername: i would like to think so. don't think i didn't see you swipe a jar of marmalade

alexalbon: GUILTY

user15: williams points, maybe america isn't all bad ...

yourusername: home race did pretty boy so good :))))

logansargeant: idk i think you might just be my lucky charm and can never leave my side again

yourusername: what about the children logan :(

logansargeant: fuck dem kids

logansargeant: JOKES

oscarpiastri: 📸 📸 📸 got ur ass

logansargeant: why are you here?

oscarpiastri: i want naming rights of the next babies 😬

yourusername: logan :((((((( they have feelings :(((((

logansargeant: i'm sorry :( i just love you :(

yourusername: awwwwww i love you too

oscarpiastri: so can i name the next babies PLEASE

yourusername: you wanna give logan a tow next race?

oscarpiastri: fuck no

yourusername: then there's your answer

user16: what the fuck is going on here?

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 7,103 others

tagged: logansargeant

yourusername: there's no such thing as a snooze button here

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user17: FARM LOGAN FARM LOGAN FARM LOGAN

user18: farm logan makes me weak in the knees

oscarpiastri: why are there two pictures of logan?

logansargeant: choke.

oscarpiastri: woah i didn't know comedy was illegal in texas

yourusername: to perform comedy you kinda need to be funny oscar

oscarpiastri: i am funny?

yourusername: sure ...

oscarpiastri: stop trying to look like a nice gf on the internet you make fun of him just as much as i do

logansargeant: she did say that she prefers dermot over 'my ass'

yourusername: LOL sorry logan....

landonorris: am i dumb?

oscarpiastri: yes :)

yourusername: ass is another way to refer to a donkey lando

landonorris: ohhhh. in that case i am a massive donkey

yourusername: oh that's not...

user19: y/n having to deal with more than logan and oscar will kill her i fear

alexalbon: SHEEP PLEASE BRING SHEEP NEXT RACE PLEASE I LOVE SHEEP

yourusername: you good?

alexalbon: i love sheep. sue me

yourusername: we actually host sheep cuddle session at the farm lol

logansargeant: can confirm they are very cuddly (not as much as you)

alexalbon: 1. why thank you logan 2. LILY CANCEL THE FLIGHTS

logansargeant: i was talking about y/n... but i knew you remembered our snuggle on the plane

alexalbon: i'm like an octopus in my sleep, just ask lily or george

user20: please santa bring me a cuddle session with the sheep at y/n's farm 🤞

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 503,776 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargeant: 2024 williams? no. y/n's tractor? YES

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user21: country boy i love youuuuuuuuuuuu eh

user22: third pic is doing something to me that is irreversible

yourusername: lovely lovely cowboy, i might have to ban you from working on the farm cause you're too distracting

logansargeant: saying that as if you don't make collecting eggs look like the hottest thing in the world

yourusername: you looking mighty fine wrangling the cows

logansargeant: you riding a horse makes me go feral

alexalbon: OKAY WE'LL BE ENDING THAT THERE BEFORE IT LEAVES THE PG RATING

yourusername: boooooo you're no fun 🍅 🍅🍅

logansargeant: as if you aren't posting up your feet all over the timeline 🤨

alexalbon: ffs it's just double trouble with you people

user23: only time that driving a tractor is attractive for f1 drivers

oscarpiastri: you guys look like you've jumped out of a trashy romance novel

yourusername: you read them enough to know that

oscarpiastri: what is on my kindle is between me and god

logansargeant: oscar jack piastri leave us out of your smut

oscarpiastri: oh stop being so dramatic, i don't want to know what you freaks do on that farm

logansargeant: and you'll never know. don't think of my girlfriend like that

yourusername: and don't think about my boyfriend like that

oscarpiastri: you people are infuriating

yourusername: we irritating 👯‍♀️

logansargeant: they hate to see bad bitches winning 💅

user24: this relationship is so precious to me

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 31,503 others

tagged: logansargeant

yourusername: farm update: meet the formooooola one grid!!

yuki has eaten all of my shoes :(

alex has taken station in the chicken coup

charles thinks he's a dog?

max and daniel just snooze everyday under the orange trees

george is always right at the door every morning

oscar and logan are just obsessed with each other and the goats

yes i did name the one with the prettiest coat after lewis

fernando is always sat on some poor soul (usually one of the cats)

carlos and lando chase each other constantly

lance and esteban are chill and just like cuddles

valterri drags zhou to do dumb stuff (they got stuck in a window? don't ask)

pierre demands to be brushed everyday

checo, nico and kevin are the mother hens

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user27: stop the count!!! this IS the cutest moment of the year

yukitsunoda0511: i'm sure cow yuki has a very good excuse

yourusername: i don't have any leather shoes so at least he's not a cannibal?

logansargeant: he did eat my limited edition converse though 🤨

lewishamilton: i simply HAVE to meet cow lewis he sounds like a great dude

yourusername: he's very calm and does love affection

logansargeant: he let me give him belly rubs !!

lewishamilton: that is cute (do not try to touch my stomach)

logansargeant: ... noted

user28: i will never recover from this and need constant updates please

logansargeant: cow me might be obsessed with oscar but real me is still obsessed with you

yourusername: don't tell the others but both you and cow logan are my faves - i love you

logansargeant: awwww i love you too

alexalbon: OUTRAGE

oscarpiastri: ROBBERY

yourusername: oh please ....

logansargeant: you snooze you lose

danielricciardo: awww they can't even separate us as cows @maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1: we're bffs in every universe daniel

yourusername: this is very heartwarming

logansargeant: we're still better though, right?

yourusername: oh of course

danielricciardo: ???

maxverstappen1: ???

fin.

note: two in one day? i am on a roll - i hope you all enjoy with me finally writing for logan !! i for one am glad he's getting a second season!