creamy ... ⊹ Ი𐑼

trigger warnings for

this is a vent blog but i feel like warnings aren't the worst thing in the world. i love NORMAN!!! and matthew mcconaughey and unicorns and hard-core music and lots of things but i tag pretty much everything

i like writing imagines + just for fun. totally love reqs tho but only for norman charaters or rustin cohle tho!

ed

body dysmorphia

parasocial relationships with irl person

self harm

fatphobia

the spring crimewave simmered down as the summer heat rendered everyone too hot too move. rust and marty enjoyed the quiet escape to fish on the marina. maggie never found herself on open waters, despite the constant talk of plans. captain sally's was close enough to walk which greatly benefited them when leaving the bar. it was a place stuck between time somehow. outdated menus and sticky floors yet with dressed up staff like more modern places. the girls dressed up in short sailor dresses and the men in navy dress whites. it was somewhat ridiculous when they first walked in, but getting called captain by long legs and a push-up bra was pretty nice by marty's standards.

the cold air blasting in the building felt like heaven on their sunburnt skin as they entered. a hostess greeted them with the standard “ahoy, captains!” before letting them to the bar.

“you ever get tired of starting at a pair of squeezed up tits, marty?”

marty raised his eyebrows with his standard look but before he replied the bartender arrived to take their orders. symmetrical whiskey sours arrived promptly even with the late crowd. small blue shot glasses with the house vodka came after, cheap and acidic. while rust tipped back his sour he saw a blue uniform warped by the bottom of his glass.

you locked eyes with him, though yous were looking lower before you noticed he was staring at you. the thin white tank-top he sported was stuck to his chest and waist by old sweat and from across the dark bar it was like a beacon of masculine

aura. marty noticed rust stuck in thought and noticed you.

“looks like she belongs on a twisted version of a cracker jack box. never get used to these damn costume things.”

you passed holding a tray of dark beer, the foam at the top dripping down the sides. your perfume scented the air behind you and rust inhaled deeply at the sweet caramel and salty sweat mixture. his face ticked an invisible smile at the uncanny resemblance of caramel corn and peanuts.

they sat quietly for an hour, drinking and watching. marty watching the sports on tv and rust watching the people intermingling. occasionally their eyes would catch on legs or tits or the bottom ruffles of a uniform as someone bent over or walked too fast. it was mellow and easy and tame.

“do you remember me?”

leaning at the corner of the bar was you, same girl as before caught lost in rustin’s torso. rust scanned you for familiarity while trying to ignore marty's attempts to flatter you into mush.

“you involved with a shooting 2 years ago?”

“bingo! glad i can say it's nice to see y'all again, since it's under normal circumstances.”

you laughed casually and marty joined your easy nature but rust remembered your case. the shellshocked version of you, the interview you nearly collapsed at.

“you been okay? can't believe it's already been two years.”

marty and you engage in small talk, something he's a master at when it comes to young women. you bat your eyes and flash your painted nails. rust stayed quiet and prepared to leave early to leave you two alone until your eyes kept flicking towards him, despite his silence.

“how have you been, officer cohle? louisiana been treating you alright?”

he remembered your case was early into his residence as state DCI. you are young to be working in a place like this so two years back you were baby faced and scared. rust had found himself disclosing his private life to you to help you open up in the interview room.

“texas and louisiana don't have much of a difference, besides their ghosts. ‘nd don't call me officer when i'm not here to question you.”

the tips of your ears grew warm at his light chide. it made you realize the barrier between you was gone and you timidity stepped closer. now you leaned on a barstool next to rust with marty behind him. the short pleated dress pressed between your thighs as you leaned back to rest on the cushion. four eyes zeroed in on a forbidden spot within you.

“ah sorry! so… what'cha guys doing after this? this is pretty far from the station, isn't it?”

marty started to zone out after noticing you taking a liking to rust, mindlessly sipping his bud light and looking at the tv. another round of shots and whiskey sours came, the vodka sliding over to you.

“i dunno if i should while ‘m working.”

rust paused for a moment, watching you look around cautiously. that girl from the past was still in you, he mused that it either made you too hard or too soft. he would find out soon enough.

“when do you get off? have a drink after.”

he lazily offering the after hours drink in that deep, hypnotic tone he spoke. you felt a compulsion to comply with him so you told him it would be soon but only slightly before closing. there was an agreement to just see where the night takes them.

marty had long since left by the time you forgot how many shots you had taken. rust smiled, actually smiled at something you had said. he had a watchful eye at you pawing at his arm, ignoring the burn your nails left on his sunburn. your hands were soft when they lingered on his bicep, starkly reminding him of your youthfulness.

“thank you, again. for being so nice to me during the interviews.”

rust started to dismiss you but you leaned on him to cut him off, inadvertently pressing your chest into his side.

“no, i know i was difficult. it meant a lot to me, rustin.”

“seeing death makes you change. lots of people can't handle it and you didn't act any worse or better.”

your drunken brain functioned slow and the emotions clogged at what he had said. there was a quiet pause between you, the bar long been emptied and closed.

“good to know you can forget it for a while, at least.”

your face dropped for a moment before you fixed yourself - flashes of memory attacking you like an electric storm. being with rust now felt like a summer rain, at any moment the sweet rain could turn deadly.

one shot remained and neither of you moved to take it.

“if it drink anymore i won't be able to make it out the door. you said you had a boat on the marina?”

you both stumbled down the dark block to the dock, you moreso. the boat was dark and you held to the back of rust's wife beater until he turned on the cabin lights. the under cabin was messy and littered with beer cans, the men obviously not expecting company.

“very ‘man cave’, if you ask me.”

“more cave than man. marty likes her more than his real wife I've started to realize.”

you laughed and sat on the unmade bed, pushing away thoughts of anyone else having been in it. rust stood by the mini fridge and opened another can of beer. when he returned and stood over you, it suddenly felt overwhelmingly hot in the small room.

“even though i've been working at that bar now, i have managed to avoid beer. smells funny, i think. can i try yours?”

he finished his sip and looked down his nose at you on the bed, skirt fanned and sitting prim and proper. rust took a large hand to fix your head in position and tilted the beer towards your awaiting mouth. you couldn't help it spill down the side of your mouth and throat, wetting the halter top of your navy dress. the room darkened not in light but in atmosphere. a chill went through you despite a heat building inside you.

he took away the beer and you looked up at the mysterious look on his face.

“did you like it?”

you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and paused at what he said.

“i- what?”

“the beer. y'like it?”

there was a shift in rust's tone that rendered you unable to speak. you nodded your head and look up at him through mascara-caked lashes. rust moved closer to you and took the hand on the back of your head to rest heavy on your neck. your face was close to his stomach, close enough to smell the ocean water and musky sweat from fishing earlier. the masculine scent burned your nostrils.

he leaned down to you and placed his other hand beside your thigh on the bed. the weight of him caused you to lean slightly. he licked the beer off your neck and trailed kisses down towards the open part of your chest. he mumbled something you couldn't hear.

“rust?”

“you've got that same look.”

“what do- what do you mean.”

you had to pause before something akin to a whimper or moan escaped you inadvertently. you could feel his fingers on your neck playing with the tie holding your straps together.