#Leigh Shaw
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ginnsbaker · 6 months ago
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (16/17)
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Part Summary: You and Leigh cling to each other, counting down the days until she leaves next year for Matt's book tour.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.300+ | Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strap-on usage (r receiving), oral (r receiving), sex in public | Author's note: Just R and Leigh being all over each other before we wrap up this series :)
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV I Part XV
-
Your internal clock kicks in at five in the morning, even though it feels like you and Leigh only just fell asleep, exhausted after hours of chasing each other to the brink and back. You’ve long since stopped counting the times you’ve brought each other over the edge, a relentless pursuit of pleasure that left both of you gasping, spent, yet craving more. 
Was it possible to share an orgasm that stretched into what felt like hours? If so, how were you not just a tangle of bliss-wrecked limbs, dead to the world?
You vaguely remember a drowsy conversation as you were both drifting off, your sweaty bodies tangled in the sheets. You’d managed a murmured question about the future, about what happens when Leigh hits the road for the comic tour. But she’d just pressed a lazy, silencing kiss to the corner of your mouth. “What if tomorrow an asteroid hits Los Angeles?” she’d teased, nosing the length of your jaw, pressing a kiss here and there.
You tried to frown, your mind foggy with sleep. “Be serious,” you muttered.
“I am,” she whispered back, her lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’m dead serious about sucking every drop of now, not wasting a second on what-ifs.”
You’re not entirely sure what happened next, only that when Leigh said the word suck, you felt a tingling sensation that surged down to your core. Before you knew it, you were on your back again, with Leigh skillfully coaxing out the final, shattering orgasm of the night from you.
Stretching your back, you hear a few satisfying pop, reminding you how sex with Leigh was nothing short of a workout, your muscles pleasantly sore from it. The first pale light finds Leigh beside you, her back turned, skin bare, and just a whisper of the sheets covering her. You realize you’ve monopolized the covers throughout the night. 
You carefully pull the sheet over her, tucking it around her exposed shoulder. She’s still out, peaceful, her breathing even and deep. You can’t help but slide closer, wrapping an arm around her waist, her skin so soft and warm. You kiss the back of her neck lightly, her scent—a mix of sweet sweat and the faint floral of her shampoo—fills you up.
Soon enough, the gentle rhythm of Leigh's breathing lulls you back into sleep.
-
When you wake up again, hours later, the bed beside you is empty. The covers are tucked around you, forming a comforting cocoon, undoubtedly Leigh’s thoughtful doing. 
There’s no rush to throw on clothes; you relish the comfort of the sheets against your bare skin as you slide out of bed. It's not your first time being in Leigh’s room, but the last time you were here, you barely made it a foot inside before being overtaken by the fight you were having. Last night was different. In the darkness, nothing mattered except Leigh’s cries of pleasure, the slick heat between her thighs, and the taste of her lips, completely consumed by the wonders of her body. With the slow start to your morning, you realize you now have all the time in the world to explore Leigh’s room.
Though, quite literally, there’s not much to unpack here.
In one corner near the windows, stacks of cardboard boxes are still wrapped in tape. They are remnants, you guess, of her life with Matt. Drifting over to Leigh’s desk, you notice a notebook sitting there, its pages shut tight. The temptation to peek is there, but you respect her privacy, leaving it untouched. Above the desk, a small shelf is lined with books—classics you recognize and, surprisingly, a few romance novels by Emily Henry. You're not usually into romance, but you make a mental note to check out this author on your next visit to a bookstore.
Exploring Leigh’s room reveals a charming minefield. Clothes are draped over chairs, pooled on the floor, or spilling from drawers. The dresser is a jumble of lotion bottles, perfume, earrings, and hair ties. It's all quintessentially Leigh—somewhat untamed. Your self-guided tour brings you inevitably back to the doorway. Just as you’re turning to give one last look over the room, the door bursts open. It's Jules, and the moment she sees you, her eyes widen in horror.
“Jesus, Y/N!” Jules shrieks, throwing her hands up to shield her eyes. “What the hell?”
Scrambling, you grab a throw pillow off Leigh’s bed and hold it in front of you. “Jules! I, uh, didn't think anyone would be coming in,” you stammer, cheeks heating up.
“Why are you naked in my sister's room?” Jules demands, her voice muffled by her hands, still covering her face. The question sounds ridiculous even to her ears—everyone knew you and Leigh had a date last night.
Of course, you're naked in her sister's bedroom the next morning. Where else?
“I—We were just—” Every explanation sounds more absurd as you try to find the words.
“Just—don't. Please, just get dressed,” Jules interrupts, still not looking at you.
Nodding, you quickly grab the first clothes you can find, not bothering to check if they’re yours or if they’re clean. Within seconds, you're awkwardly pulling on a white shirt featuring a pickle wearing aviators, captioned Dill With It, and squeezing into lime shorts that are definitely a bit too snug and short for your taste.
“I'm decent,” you announce, hoping your voice doesn’t betray how flustered you feel.
Right then, Leigh emerges from downstairs, looking bewildered by the commotion. “What’s going on?” she asks, eyes darting between her flustered sister and you in your bizarre outfit.
Jules lowers her hands slowly, peeking out with one eye before fully facing you. Her irritation is palpable as she glares at Leigh. 
“You said I could borrow your charger from your bedroom!” Jules exclaims, her finger quivering slightly as she points it at her sister.
Leigh blinks, her lips twitching as she fights the urge to laugh. She sneaks a glance at you, your face now resembling a ripe tomato from embarrassment, and mutters almost absentmindedly, “I assumed she'd still be asleep.”
Jules huffs, “Whatever.” She strides over to Leigh's desk, grabbing the charger with a dramatic flourish. You stand frozen, barely breathing. As Jules heads for the door, she pauses, crinkling her nose as if a new thought has just occurred to her. She turns, eyes narrowed slightly in disgust. 
“And open a window, would you? It smells like a brothel in here. Gross.” With that parting shot, she's gone.
Leigh lets out a breath and shakes her head. She steps closer and wraps her arms around you, her laughter bubbling up. “Well, that was something,” she says, coming over to wrap you in a hug. She gives your shirt a playful tug. “You kind of rock the pickle look, though.”
“It's a new trend,” you joke, pulling her a little closer. As you do, you lean in to kiss her cheek softly, whispering, “Good morning.”
Leigh smiles and leans in to kiss you on the lips, but you instinctively bring up your fingers to your mouth, mumbling, “I haven’t brushed yet.”
Unfazed, Leigh simply pries your fingers away and presses her lips firmly against yours. It's a quick but solid peck, leaving you both smiling.
“Morning breath doesn't scare me,” she murmurs, tracing a finger down your throat to your clavicle. “Besides, after last night, I think a little morning breath is nothing we can't handle.”
Grinning, you dive back in for another kiss, deeper this time, as Leigh starts steering you backward towards the bed. Just as the back of your knees hit the mattress, a rumble from your stomach interrupts the moment—loud, untimely, and embarrassingly intolerant.
Leigh chuckles, her forehead resting against yours as she catches her breath. “Guess that's my cue to feed you something other than kisses,” she says with a smirk, pulling back and offering her hand to help you up. “Come on, Jules made breakfast.”
Gratefully, you take her hand, letting her lead you out of the bedroom.
-
“Forget that research gig, I'm heading straight to America's Got Talent,” Suzie jokes, staggering back to the table after a spirited, if slightly wobbly, rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart. She's already half-drunk but radiates happiness, her performance having drawn cheers and hearty sing-alongs from the crowd at the karaoke bar.
She flops down in her chair, cheeks flushed and grinning, as your group erupts in cheers and claps. Tomorrow is Suzie's last day, and you had her pick the venue for her farewell party. Knowing how much she loves to sing during downtime at the clinic, a karaoke bar was an obvious choice.
“Here's to Suzie!” you shout, trying to be heard over the sound of a couple belting out a ballad on stage. “For the longest time, you've been the clinic's backbone and heartbeat. We never would've made it without you. You'll be terribly missed, but remember, our door is always open for you.”
The table erupts in cheers before everyone empties the glasses they're holding up. You drop back into your seat, feeling a little dizzy after that round. It's a small group—just you, Suzie, Foreman, Sara, and your maintenance guys, Joey and Mike.
Suzie suddenly leaps to her feet, glass raised high. “And a huge shout-out to the hottest boss I've ever had the pleasure of working ‘under’!” she yells, punctuating her words with a devious wink. Your team bursts into laughter, their uproar drawing whistles and applause from some folks at nearby tables. Sara chimes in with a spirited “Hear, hear!”, while Foreman simply rolls his eyes, a hint of envy in his expression—he's already made a pass at Sara and was swiftly rejected.
You wave your hands dismissively. “Alright, alright, let's not give everyone the wrong idea,” you say, your cheeks reddening a bit from both the attention and the alcohol. Just as you're about to retake your seat, feeling the room sway slightly with your tipsiness, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You fumble it out to see Leigh's name lighting up the screen. You’d texted her this morning inviting her to join the farewell, but her busy schedule had made her confirmation uncertain.
You excuse yourself and stumble slightly as you rise, steadying your hand on the back of your chair. Weaving through the tables, you find a quieter spot near the entrance of the bar to answer the call.
“Hey,” you say, pressing the phone to your ear, your voice dropping as you move away from all the ruckus. “Everything okay?”
“Hey,” Leigh's voice cuts in, a bit choppy and barely audible over the blaring speakers. “I'm outside of the... Brass Gibbon? Am I at the right place?”
You miss the last part of her sentence. “Sorry? Can you say that again?”
Strangely, you catch Leigh's deep sigh perfectly. “I said I'm outside,” she repeats.
“Oh! Hang on, I'm coming out.”
You dash out of the restaurant and spot Leigh leaning against the wall. You can’t help but rush over and wrap her in a tight bear hug. It’s only been two days since you woke up in her bed, but you’ve already missed seeing her, smelling her, feeling her in your arms.
She laughs and returns the hug. As she tries to pull away, you tighten your grip, holding her for a few more precious seconds. She relents with a soft chuckle, patting you lightly on the back. When you finally let go, her eyes roam fondly over your face, taking in your slightly flushed cheeks and dreamy stare. Seeing this, her smile only widens.
“Someone's had a few too many,” she teases.
You hiccup and try to defend yourself, “I’ve just had three—no, four!”
Leigh smirks and shakes her head. “Four, huh? Must've been some party,” she says, taking your hand. As Leigh leads you back toward the bar, you find yourself gazing down at your intertwined hands, a goofy grin spreading across your face. You giggle softly to yourself, slightly buzzed and thoroughly enchanted by the simple act of holding her hand.
Upon reaching your table, Suzie waves enthusiastically to get Leigh's attention. Leigh responds with a bright, “Hello, everyone!” as you both approach the group. There’s a moment where everyone looks expectantly at you, waiting for an introduction. Momentarily distracted by Leigh's presence, you get a nudge and a whisper from Suzie sitting next to you, “Introduce her, you goof!”
Quickly regaining your composure, you turn slightly, still holding Leigh’s hand. “Everyone, this is Leigh,” you announce, proud and slightly nervous. Everyone takes turns shaking her hand and introducing themselves. You watch anxiously as Sara stands up to greet Leigh, but Leigh's smile never fades, and a wave of calm washes over you as you observe your team warmly interacting with your—
“Is she your girlfriend?” Foreman asks overtly. The room goes quiet. Everyone's eyes swing between you and Leigh, waiting.
You're stuck, words lodged somewhere in your chest, not sure what to say or how to say it.
And then Leigh beats you to it.
“Yes.”
You blink, staring at Leigh, flooded with relief and suddenly feeling very, very horny.  When Leigh notices your dazed look, her face switches to concern. “You okay?” she asks. Before you can answer, she’s already grabbing your hand, turning to everyone, “Excuse us, Y/N's not feeling great.”
You're still reeling from her bold affirmation and too captivated by Leigh to piece together a coherent thought. The next thing you know, you're being guided—rather roughly—into one of the bathroom stalls, your back pressed against the door as Leigh locks it behind you.
Leigh leans in close, her breath hot against your ear. “You shouldn't be wearing your white doctor's coat out like this,” she murmurs.
You open your mouth to explain—it was chilly, and beneath the coat, all you had on was a skimpy black strappy dress. But as Leigh slides the coat from your shoulders, her lips find your earlobe, gently nibbling. The words die in your throat, replaced by a sharp intake of breath. Leigh pushes you harder against the door, her body pinning yours with surprising force. That's when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness of a strap beneath her pants. A deep, needy moan spills from you as she starts grinding against you.
How did you miss the pronounced bulge in the tight jeans she wore to meet everyone? Was this part of her plan? The nerve of it—meeting everyone, introducing herself so confidently and casually, all while planning to take you here, in a public bathroom. It's almost as if she was silently bragging to your team, “Yeah, I’m about to fuck your boss in a public bathroom. Nice to meet you.”
The thought alone makes you soak your panties. Despite the thrill, the risk of getting caught in public makes you hesitate. “Leigh, they’re waiting for us,” you protest weakly.
Leigh just grins against your skin. “But I'm not done making you feel better,” she whispers slowly, making you clench your thighs together from how hoarse her voice has gotten. Her hands are deft as she bunches your dress around your waist and begins to unzip her pants. All the while, she deposits open-mouthed kisses along your neck, leaving a trail of saliva in their wake. 
“Leigh…” you whine, unsure if you're trying to make her stop or urging her on out of impatience. She just smirks, that knowing look in her eyes telling you she’s got you right where she wants you. Before you can protest again, she pulls you into a deep, toe-curling kiss that melts your doubts away.
Then, you see it. Leigh pulls out a seven-inch strap-on, its girth substantial. Her hand barely fits around it as she spits into her palm and coats the silicone with deliberate strokes, preparing it. 
You're teetering on the edge, mind spinning, when Leigh switches things up on you. Suddenly, she’s on her knees, and before you know what’s happening, she’s tugged your panties down. You’re about to react when her tongue hits you, slick and warm, tracing up your pussy.
“Oh my god!” you cry out.
Leigh’s tongue works magic, and she hums against you. “You taste sweeter every time,” she murmurs, just before her tongue dives back in for more. You can only moan in response, words failing you completely as pleasure builds. Just when you’re about to peak, Leigh pulls away, leaving you hanging on the brink. She stands quickly, grabs the strap-on, and steps closer. Her grin is wicked as she rubs the toy against your slick folds, coating it with your arousal. When the thick head nudges your clit, you can’t help but curse out loud.
“Leigh! Fuck!”
Leigh clamps a hand over your mouth, her eyes widening slightly as she hears someone enter the bathroom. She gives you a quick, commanding look, silently instructing you to wrap your legs around her. As you comply, the toy squeezes tighter in your folds, making you shudder.
“Put your arms around my shoulders, hold tight,” she murmurs, breathless from the effort she’s exerting to hold you up. She guides the tip of the cock to your entrance. “Ready?” she asks softly. You nod, pressing your face into the crook of her neck to drown out any sounds. Without another word, Leigh thrusts into you in one swift motion. The size is a shock, and you bite down on her neck to stifle a cry, the slight pain mingling with deep pleasure. Sensing your need to adjust, Leigh holds back, her body taut yet patient, giving you a moment. Once you give a slight nod against her neck, Leigh starts moving again, slowly at first. 
She continues thrusting into you, speeding up just a little, her lips just inches from your ear. “I've been thinking about this, fucking you like this,” she whispers.
Dumb with pleasure, you gasp out, “H-Here?”
“Not here, silly,” she breathes out, her rhythm faltering slightly as a particular thrust grazes her clit just right. The strap-on drags tantalizingly against your walls as she pulls out, then sinks back in deep, hitting spots that light you up from the inside. Leigh’s fucking you like the strap is a true extension of hers. For a second there, you wish it were. 
“Ideally, I'd have you in your bed, where you can scream your l-lungs out,” Leigh whimpers as her movements grow more and more out of control. She drives into you relentlessly, each stroke making you slicker, drawing moans from deep within you. “S-Seeing you tonight... I couldn’t w-wait.”
You've never been so wet, so ready, and every time she pulls back, you feel the absence of her deeply, desperately not wanting this to end.
Leigh changes her approach, drawing back slowly until only the head of her cock remains inside you, before surging forward, slamming into you. Each powerful thrust pins you harder against the door, the sound of your bodies smacking together rocking you into a lust-filled haze. The sheer strength of her movements turns you on even more, making you more slippery, and soon you can practically hear the sound of her fucking you—wet, squelching noises that you're sure anyone nearby can hear.
True enough, you catch the sound of hurried footsteps and the door slamming shut as someone rushes out, likely realizing what's happening. 
With the coast clear, she carefully lowers your legs from her waist, sensing that you’re close but knowing you need more. Just when you think you might lose it, she suddenly pulls out. You barely have time to gasp, ready to curse her for stopping, when she swiftly turns you around and positions you over the toilet, making you brace yourself on the seat.
Without warning, she enters you from behind, the angle allowing her to go deeper. Leigh drags your dress further up your body, her hands roaming over your smooth back before digging into your hips. Your breathing becomes shallower as she continues her unforgiving pace, but you crave more.
Sensing your need, Leigh sneaks a hand in front of you, her fingers finding your swollen clit. She circles it tightly with three fingers, massaging the engorged nub. “Look how big it's grown,” she whispers huskily in your ear. “You're so ready. Practically dripping everywhere.”
You whimper helplessly, tears forming behind your eyelids from the amount of pleasure you’re receiving. 
“I wish I could come in you, fill you up.”
That does it. Your body tenses, and a powerful orgasm crashes over you, making you cry out. Leigh tries to hold you up, supporting your weight as you lose all sensation in your legs.
“Fuck, Leigh!" you moan, trembling. “That was... oh god…”
Leigh doesn't stop, her own need for release driving her forward. Despite your pleas about how sensitive you are, she continues relentlessly, her fingers expertly working your clit again. “Leigh, please,” you whimper, your body overstimulated and trembling. “I can’t—”
“Just one more, baby,” she groans. “I-I’m close.”
At Leigh’s plea, your body, still reeling from the first orgasm, starts building up again. “Oh god, Leigh,” you gasp, feeling the pressure mount once more, your body trembling uncontrollably. Within seconds, you're hurtling toward another peak, your legs shaking as she drives you over the edge. A second, even more intense orgasm rips through you, your cries echoing in the small stall. Leigh finally lets out a low, guttural moan, her own release hitting as she keeps you bent over, her fingers never stopping their assault on your clit until every last wave of pleasure has wracked your body. 
Shortly thereafter, Leigh finally slows, her thrusts easing until she stops completely, still buried deep inside you. She pinches your ass appreciatively, then tests how sensitive you are with a small thrust that has you hissing. She chuckles at your reaction, taking pity on you. Bending over, she kisses your cheek and whispers, “I'm gonna pull out now, okay?”
You nod weakly, still catching your breath. Leigh begins to withdraw slowly, her eyes fixed on the junction of your bodies. She watches, fascinated, as she draws back, the wet tendrils stretching and finally snapping from your pussy to her cock. 
“Look at you,” she murmurs in awe, half to herself, as she finally frees herself completely and tucks the strap back inside her pants.
“Are you okay?” she asks, noticing you’ve been in the same position longer than usual.
“Yeah, just give me a minute... or five,” you reply with a breathless laugh.
She laughs softly too, then helps you pull your panties up from your ankles. Once you're somewhat decent, she sits on the toilet lid and pulls you into her lap, resting her forehead on your chest, eyes closed, her breath steady on your sternum. You weave your fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp gently. Leigh sighs contentedly, but then her voice turns apologetic. 
“I'm sorry for… I literally lost control. It's just... I keep seeing you and thinking of February, when I have to go and I—”
“I know what you mean,” you interrupt softly, tilting her head towards you with fingers under her chin. “I don't want to waste a single moment.”
Leigh nods, then quickly buries her face in your chest to hide her watery eyes, her head nestled comfortably against your breast.
For a while, you just hold each other without saying anything, content even in the cramped space of the stall. After a while, you gently suggest, “We should get back. Don’t want to give the staff any ideas.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Leigh says, lifting her head to meet your eyes. 
She helps you to your feet, both of you adjusting your clothes, sharing a quiet, knowing smile. With one last kiss, you step out of the stall together.
When you and Leigh return to the group, it's clear they're more inebriated than when you left. Except Suzie. The smirk that spreads across her face as soon as she sees you gives away that she's pieced together what happened between you and Leigh. Your cheeks flush immediately, providing Suzie all the confirmation she needs. Without missing a beat, she guides you both back to the booth and strategically sits between you and Leigh, still smirking.
“Thanks for coming, Leigh,” Suzie says, offering Leigh a beer.
Leigh accepts the drink, taking a large gulp before saying, “Sorry for crashing your party.”
“No, you’re not,” Suzie says with an impish grin. “I told Y/N to invite you. I wanted to meet you properly before I go.”
“Oh?” Leigh looks up from her drink. “Why’s that?”
“Suzie—” you try to interject.
Suzie holds up a finger to shush you. Leigh's eyebrow arches at the gesture, clearly feeling provoked by your former receptionist's antics. You tense up for a moment, worried Suzie might say something offensive to Leigh.
Instead, she grins and says, “I wanted to meet the reason my boss stares into space half the time.”
You shoot Suzie a deathly glare, but she just laughs. 
“Really?” Leigh asks, amused. “That bad, huh?”
Suzie nods, enjoying every second. “Oh, yeah. It’s been fun watching her daydream.”
The rest of the group laughs and then Foreman accidentally spills his drink down his shirt, drawing everyone’s attention. Taking advantage of the distraction, Suzie leans in closer to Leigh, her expression becoming earnest.
“I might not be Y/N’s best friend,” she tells her, “but consider this a friendly warning from someone who cares about her just as much. Don’t break her heart, okay?”
Leigh meets her gaze head on and says, “I don’t plan on it.”
“Good,” Suzie says, rising from her seat. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to kick off the second set of my concert tonight.”
-
Leigh doesn’t mention Suzie’s little warning to you, choosing to keep it to herself. Yet, as she spends more time with you, those words linger in the back of her mind, subtly coloring her perceptions and the way she observes your interactions. It’s not something she dwells on openly, but it’s there, quietly guiding her along the way. 
You don’t tell Leigh how she’s been everything you could ever ask for these past few weeks, but you've noticed. You see her thoughtfulness in the small things—like how she always brings you your favorite coffee just the way you like it, or the way she listens, really listens, giving you her undivided attention when you talk about your day, no matter how trivial the details. And it's clear she's not holding back; she's refreshingly candid. Leigh shares everything that's on her mind, effortlessly expressing how your words or actions impact her, for better or worse—a true companionship.
The sex gradually tapered off, but your longing for Leigh has only grown—not just in a sexual sense. You miss her in the mornings when she's makeup-free, leaving a small mark of drool on your pillow. During the day, you wish you could grab lunch with her or talk about the new book you spotted in a shop window, especially after deep discussions about its author. You long to share every detail of your day with her, to hear her take on the little things, to see her in your dreams.
Simply put, you find yourself wanting her around all the time.
It's risky to find yourself wanting her even more than you already do, but you've long since surrendered control over your own heart. It feels like being a prisoner on death row, helplessly waiting for the inevitable moment she leaves LA for her tour.
-
One evening, Leigh surprises you with a picnic dinner at the park. She finds the perfect spot under a massive oak tree and lays down a cozy blanket. From her basket, she pulls out a homemade lasagna that’s still warm and a grazing box loaded with your favorite cheeses and cold cuts. 
As you settle down, Leigh pulls out a bottle of wine and two glasses. She winks, assuring you she definitely got permission to take it from her mom’s cellar.
You smile, watching her pour the wine. “So.. what’s the occasion?”
Leigh shrugs as she hands you a glass of wine, her smile easy. “I just wanted to do something nice for you,” she says simply.
You take a sip, enjoying the flavor, but there’s a nagging feeling you just can’t seem to shake off. 
“You've been going all out for me lately,” you quip, keeping your tone light. “What's this really about?”
Leigh’s smile fades just a touch, though her eyes remain hopeful. She takes a deep breath.
“I spoke with Matt's publisher,” she starts cautiously. “I’ve officially agreed to go on the tour. They've sorted out all the details—the itinerary, the places, everything.”
The news doesn't surprise you. You've been expecting this; neither you nor Leigh can keep avoiding the inevitable, hiding behind the rush of desire you have for each other, the comfortable days that are, you both know, numbered.
You fall silent for a while, simply lying down with your head in Leigh's lap. She seems taken aback at first, but quickly adjusts to make you more comfortable. You look up at her, smiling, finding her face and the night sky an unbelievably stunning match.
Leigh gives you a funny look, her brow furrowing slightly. “Did you hear what I said?” she asks.
“Yeah, I heard you,” you mumble, still distracted by her face. Then, as an afterthought, you whisper, “You were always going to go.”
She nods, looking upward, her eyes glistening as she tries to blink back tears.
“Are you going alone?” you ask.
Leigh takes a moment, then shakes her head slightly. “Danny might come too,” she admits. “But with his new job in Vegas, I doubt he’ll be able to.”
As you absorb her words, you realize why you asked. Maybe part of you had sensed it, maybe you needed the confirmation. Regardless, you know you have no say in the matter. If Danny is there, at least someone can look out for Leigh.
You hadn't noticed you'd voiced your thoughts about Danny possibly joining her until Leigh says, “I can handle myself just fine, you know.”
“Of course, you can,” you reply quickly, “but that won’t stop me from worrying.”
She gives you a soft smile and starts toying with your hair, gently pulling strands and braiding them. The slight tugs as she twists your hair into braids lull you into an almost sleepy state. You're drifting on the edge of dozing off when her voice, soft and tender, pulls you back. 
“I love you.”
Your eyes snap open. Leigh’s refrained from saying it during sex, and not that you’ve been counting, but it’s the third time. It takes you a few seconds to process, your heart catching up with your mind, and then you notice Leigh's amused smile. 
“I love you, too,” you whisper back. You can sense that your statement simultaneously makes her both happy and sad. You wish you could make it all joy, all the time.
But that’s not how life works.
Leigh bends down, her lips brushing softly against yours before she pulls away, her breath warm on your face. “Do you think this would be easier if we hadn't said those three words to each other?” she whispers, her eyes searching yours for an answer.
You sigh, mulling over her question. “I honestly don't know,” you say, voice soft but certain. “But I couldn’t have kept it to myself, not with how I feel about you. All I know is I love you, whether you’re leaving or staying.”
Leigh's eyes well up again, but this time she lets the tears fall. She leans in, her forehead resting against yours. “Thank you,” she murmurs. 
“For what?” you ask curiously, sitting up.
Leigh wipes her tear with a dainty finger, then traces the line of your jaw before pecking you on the lips.
“For being you,” she whispers. “And for showing me that life can go on in any number of ways.”
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imthxtgood · 1 month ago
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Sorry For Your Loss 01x03: 'Jackie O. & Courtney Love.'
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wandaslittlepsycho · 8 months ago
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currently thinking about meeting mean!stalker!leigh in support group, how as soon as her eyes landed on you she couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect you’d be to relive some of her pent up stress and anger. a pretty doll made for her to play with.
so she decides to follow you home one night, only to innocently observe you of course. It was curiousness, she couldn’t help herself when you would go out of your way to talk with her, buy her coffee or pastries, or wearing little skirts that made her mouth water.
but when you did these things she snapped at you to go away. she just loved watching your eyes get all watery, your lip slightly quivering hearing her harsh rejections, you looked so pretty like that.
Leigh is also way too shy to text you, afraid that what she has to say might scare you away. so she always texted her thoughts to you on anonymous numbers, going out of her way to make new ones every time you would block her.
“You looked so pretty today, honey”
“you should watch your back when you’re walking alone at night, angel. someone could try and hurt you”
“who is that whore sitting next to you? why are you wasting your time with her?”
maybe, she makes it part of her routine to follow you everyday after you leave. maybe, this evolves into her trailing behind you whenever you step outside of your apartment.
maybe, she gets an apartment in the building next to yours, coincidentally giving her the perfect view of you through her window? ₊˚⊹ 𐙚
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fandomnerd9602 · 7 months ago
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Leigh: (giggles) shut up
Y/N: no it’s true. You look like a beautiful flower filled goddess right now.
Leigh: you’re so corny
Y/N: aw shucks…get it?
Leigh smiles and shakes her head…
Leigh: why do you always make me laugh?
Y/N: cause I want to make you smile. I love you, Shaw. I want you to be happy.
Leigh takes their hand…
Leigh: every moment I’m with you I am
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For @lifespectator
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matthewrhys · 1 year ago
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Elizabeth Olsen and Luke Kirby as Leigh and Tripp Sorry for Your Loss— "Welcome to Palm Springs" (2018)
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gingiesworld · 3 months ago
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I Am Not Matt
Leigh Shaw x GN! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Unhappy ending
18+ MINORS DNI
Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)
Ever since Y/N had come into Leigh’s life, she had finally started to believe that she could move on, move past the grief that swallowed her whole. Y/N had always surprised her with flowers when they came home from work, took her out on spontaneous dates and even cooked her her favourite meal. Even though those gestures made Leigh see just how lucky she was to have such an attentive partner, she slowly started to withdraw herself from the relationship. The nights they would spend together between the sheets became little to non-existent, the spontaneous dates never really happened as Leigh always came up with some sort of excuse as to why she didn’t want to do it. Even when she received flowers soon fizzled out, Y/N soon started to realise that she was pulling further and further away. They barely spoke anymore, everytime Y/N would start up a conversation, Leigh would completely shut it down almost immediately.
“I’m off.” Y/N would say every morning when they saw her in the kitchen having her morning smoothie, their heart broke a little when she only shrugged. So they left without a single word off of Leigh. They spent their day working under the hot sun, wondering what had went wrong between the two of them.
“You look like you could do with a drink after work.” Jim stated as he helped Y/N by holding the plank of wood in place for Y/N to drill it into place. “Trouble in paradise?”
“You could say that.” They answered him.
“Then it’s settled, we’re having a drink and you can tell me all about it.” He told them before they both moved on to their next tasks. The day soon went by fairly quickly, work and banter with their colleagues slowly taking their mind off of their failing relationship. Soon they found themselves sitting in a booth at a bar not too far from the construction site. “So, talk to us.” Jim told them once they had their first drink.
“You know Leigh and I have been together for a couple of years right.” Jim nodded and waited for them to continue. “I think she.” They took a deep breath. “She’s pulling away from me and I don’t know how I can fix it.”
“Have you tried talking to her?” He questioned as they just nodded.
“She doesn’t even talk to me anymore. There’s no communication with her and I am trying, I am really trying to do everything I can to try and make it right and make it work.” They rambled on as they played with their glass, swirling the liquid within. “I don’t think she loves me anymore.” They whispered sadly before they downed their drinks.
“How long has this been going on for?” He asked as Y/N shrugged.
“Months.” They told him honestly. “We don’t even sleep in the same bed anymore, I know she gets out of our bed once she thinks I’m asleep.”
“Do you think she could be cheating on you?” He asked them as they shrugged.
“I don’t know.” They looked at him sadly. “I just, I love her more than anything and I don’t think she will ever feel for me the way I feel for her.”
“Well, I think you really need to make a decision, you have got to do what makes you happy.” He told them. “If your relationship is failing, and you’re the only one who is putting in all of the effort, it’s best to jump ship.”
“I was going to propose on our next anniversary.” They admitted. “I already have the ring and everything prepared.”
“I’m so sorry buddy.” Was all he could say before Y/N grabbed their wallet and left, paying the tab beforehand. They hadn’t realized the time when they had gotten home, seeing Leigh sat on the sofa, her eyes glued to the door in which they entered.
“Where were you?” She questioned them angrily. “You were supposed to be home hours ago!”
“So you finally noticed me?” They sneered as they moved towards the kitchen. “You’ve spent months ignoring me, forgetting I even exist.”
“Have you been drinking?” She questioned as they just laughed at her. “Are you cheating on me?”
“Why would I cheat on you, huh?!” They questioned angrily. “You know that is something I would never do! I don’t make promises just to break them, and I am not Matt.”
“No, you’re nothing like Matt.” Leigh seethed. “He knew me! He loved me!”
“If he loved you, he wouldn’t have cheated on you!” They yelled. “I wouldn’t ever cheat on you. You know the kind of person I am, when I want a relationship, I want to know that there is a future. You know very well I don’t do flings and I never saw you as just a fling.” They looked in her eyes sadly, reaching into their pocket. “I wanted everything with you, I wanted to build a life and a future with you. I love you so fucking much.” Their tears started to fall as they spoke. “But I know that you don’t love me, I was just a means to help you to try and forget your pain. It’s more like an addiction to you, and once I wasn’t doing it for you anymore, you go back into this place. You shut everyone out, everyone who loves, when was even the last time you spent time with your mom or Jules these past few months?”
“I see them every day.” She answered them with a scoff.
“At work!” They yelled. “You haven’t seen them at any other time! You go to work and then come home. Maybe you go to the store on some days to get you endless bottles of wine.”
“This isn’t even the point I was getting at!” She yelled in frustration, making Y/N laugh loudly.
“You haven’t spoke a single word to me, and you have the nerve to think I would hurt you.” They told her shakily. “You have no idea how much you have hurt me, you shut me out, I had no idea what I had done wrong, I was trying to figure it out for months. But, I had done things the way I have always done them since I first asked you out. I continued to do all of the things that made you smile, or laugh. I genuinely thought we had a future.” Leigh watched as Y/N had completely detached themselves from her. “I do love you, but I can’t do this anymore.” They told her as they pointed between themselves. “I can’t keep allowing myself to get hurt because I love you so much. It’s not fair on me.”
“What are you saying?” Leigh questioned, the first sound of regret in her voice.
“I’m saying it’s over.” They told her bluntly. “Us, we’re done. I’m done.” They sighed as Leigh just watched as they moved towards their room, grabbing a bag before packing some of their belongings. “I’m going to sign myself off of the lease.”
“You can’t.” Leigh whispered as she watched them from the doorway.
“I have to.” They told her as they zipped up their bag. “I need to leave before what we have kills me, and you need to move on. Just because you’re still alive while he’s not, doesn’t mean that you can’t learn to love someone new. You deserve to be happy Leigh, you just need to heal first instead of hiding from the pain.”
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midnight-lestrange · 14 days ago
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Rio's Revenge Story🖤
Watch all three parts on youtube:
youtube
youtube
youtube
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wandasreallover · 5 months ago
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masterlist
obsession! Auseries
chapter1
chapter2
chapter3-smut
wanda maximoff
Mornings
she don't wanna be saved
Sacrifice
Ceo!wanda drabble
Till the last breath
New beginnings
Elizabeth olsen
Golden Girl
Daily Dose Of lizzie
The Assistant
The reunion
College!lizzie
Sweatest devotion
Leigh Shaw
-step-mother leigh
Grief Group
Mother!Wanda maximoff
I dont want your help
Maria hill
Homecoming
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yelenasdiary · 6 months ago
Note
Hey if you're taking requests how about one of Leigh Shaw from Sorry for Your Loss?
Fem!R and her meet in group or something different if you want. Fem!R is handling the grief of her loved one a lot differently than Leigh does because whoever it was that R lost told them to still be happy once they were gone and in a way got more closure than Leigh got.
Maybe it could be angsty to hurt/comfort when Leigh tries to call R out on how she's dealing with grief and R just tries her hardest to help Leigh through her own grief and maybe they kiss by the end? R telling Leigh that she isn't Matt and she doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon.
Lost in Grief
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem! Reader
Summary: Everybody deals with grief differently, so how do you assure the new woman in your life that you would never do anything to hurt her like she has been.
Angst, Fluff, Comfort.
Warnings: Mentions of death of a loved one, suicide, cancer, depression & grief.  | 1.3K
AC: Thank you for sending this! I don’t believe I have written for Leigh before and unfortunately, I have only been able to watch SFYL twice so bear with me if I make any mistakes! Anyways, with that, I hope you enjoy! x
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It’s midnight and you had just gotten to Leigh’s house, knocking softly on the front door of her mother’s home. She not long ago called you in tears, breaking down in grief over Matt’s death. You had met the woman in grief group, the two of you being able to bond over the love for donuts and how they were the highlight of going to group. 
You knew of Leigh’s story, and she knew of yours. The two of you having to deal with different kinds of grief. For Leigh, it was sudden and unexpected. She had questions and nobody to give her answers to them, she had been going through moments of finding out more about her deceased husband that she didn’t know. All the new information only threw her deeper in the darkness of her depression but every now and then, she would smile and share a laugh and you could tell that in those moments, she was feeling okay. 
For you, it was completely different. You lost your soon to be wife to cancer, you had months to prepare for her death, you had no questions but a broken heart and an empty house. But with time and the help of talking to a grief group, you finally saw the comfort your late fiancé left you with. She always said she wanted you to be happy and not let her death eat you up and make you hate the world; she never wanted you to lose sight of the beauty the world held just because you couldn’t share it with her. Of course, you missed her dearly and you will forever love her, but it’s been almost two years and things started to feel differently. 
Leigh opened the front door, her face soaked in her tears as she crashed into your arms. You hugged her tightly, letting her break down even more in your arms. She mumbled things you couldn’t make out through her sobs; things you were sure she would repeat when she had calmed down. You waited patiently for her to settle, giving her as much time as she needed, never letting her go. 
Matt passed away a year ago, the pain never stops, you knew that, but you hated to see Leigh in such pain. If she would let you, you would do everything you could to take her pain away, to make her happy again. Oh, how much you wished to see her truly happy, maybe it would show you a completely different side of her. It was moments like these that made you thankful for the time and comfort you got from your fiancé before she passed, this is what she didn’t want for you, to be in Leigh’s shoes.
“Do you want to grab a donut and we can talk?” You offered when the woman eventually calmed down, pulling away from your hold and wiping her tears on the sleeves of her sweater. She weakly chuckled, “it’s midnight, no place is open” she reminded you. 
“I have some at mine” you offered. She smiled softly with a light nod, “I can’t turn down a donut” she said. 
“I wouldn’t let you” you smiled. 
----
“Nothing makes sense” Leigh frowned after finishing her jam donut, “like, I keep going over everything and I just can’t make sense of it. I mean, I don’t think he just died by accident, but it almost kills me to think he killed himself” she added. This was the circle she continued to keep herself in, no matter how many times she would have this conversation with you, it was almost as if your advice and thoughts went in one ear and out the other.
“And you?” She suddenly snapped, “I don’t understand how you can be as fine as you are” there it was, Leigh’s true thoughts coming through. “How can you just forgive your fiancé for not fighting? How can you live each day not hating the pain she left you in?” She went on. 
“I guess, I had closure” you admitted, knowing how unfair it was for her to hear this. “She told me not to let myself get to a point where her death would consume my life. I miss her every day and I am angry that there wasn’t anything I could do. She simply had bad luck, but I can’t hold that against her. I think you’re angry with him, he left you so suddenly. He left you with so much pain and questions you’re running around trying to find answers too and it's slowly killing you” you added, looking her deeply in her green eyes.
It was silent between the two of you, Leigh didn’t want to admit that you were right, she thought what she had was perfect and nothing could ever ruin that, but it was ruined, it was taken from her by the very person she loved the most.
“and I-“ you paused, breaking the silence. Your eyes dropped to the floor as you ran your tongue over your bottom lip, “I hate seeing you like this” you added in an almost whisper. 
“But you’re right” Leigh replied, letting her tears fall freely. “it’s killing me” she added. 
You slowly looked up at her wanting nothing more than to just tell her how you'd been feeling but now was not the time. “I just wish things weren’t so hard, I wish I just knew what he was thinking, I wish I could’ve helped him. Even if his death was an accident, he was still hurting” she added. 
“It’s easier said than done, I know but you can’t keep running in circles Leigh. You deserve to be happy again, to enjoy life again and I think deep down you know that Matt would want that for you too” you gave her a comforting smile but all she did was nod in reply. “How about you stay here tonight, I’ll take you home in the morning” you offered when your eyes caught the time on the clock hanging on the wall of your living room. 
“Only if that’s okay, I really don’t want to put you out” 
“Don’t be silly, I have guest room” you smiled once more. 
----
It had been a week since you last saw Leigh, after you dropped her off at her home the following morning. She’d been ignoring your texts, hadn’t been in grief group which made you think maybe you had upset her with some of the things you said to her that night. You ran into her sister, Jules, at the store who told you that Leigh had just been working extra classes while their mother was under weather. It helped ease the thought that maybe you had hurt her, but it still didn’t stop your worries. 
A soft knock on your front door interrupted you cooking dinner, you turned the stove to low and wandered over to the door to open it to Leigh. 
“Leigh, are you okay? I haven’t heard fro-“ she cut you off by crashing her lips on to yours in a deep kiss. It was unexpected and sudden but you found yourself wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her close into you, deepening the kiss. 
Leigh pulled away, eyes filled with tears as you gently cupped her face, “I’m sorry, I can’t stop thinking about what you said, and I thought maybe you were trying to tell me something else” she said in destress. 
You wipe her tears, “don’t be sorry” you said, looking her deeply in her eyes once again, “I was. I know Matt hurt you and I swear on my life, I would never do that to you, ever. You need time to heal, I understand that, and I will always be here for you. I’m not him, I’m going anywhere” you added. 
“Do you promise?” She asked, searching your eyes for an answer. 
“I promise” you replied softly.
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Taglist:  @marvelwomen-simp | @swaqcenix | @scarlettbitchx | @natashamaximoff-69 | @evilcr0ne | @boredandneedfanfics | 
If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.
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wandaslittleweirdo · 5 months ago
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oh yeah just like that
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writing-house-of-m · 1 year ago
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Playing Games & Mischief
Leigh Shaw x GN!Reader
Summary: Leigh's sleep talking has you wondering what she could have been dreaming about
A/N: I only got this request when I asked for some ideas last week, which I'm actually grateful for lol Here you go anon, I hope you like it. It is very cute in my opinion 😌 but let me know what you all think!
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You have been wanting to see Leigh all day, she was already gone when you woke up this morning. There has been something you wanted to ask her since you woke up in the middle of the night last night. 
Something you think will embarrass Leigh which means you have to mention it for your own entertainment. 
The sound of the front door opening and the rustling of bags indicate Leigh is finally home. ‘Finally!’ You think. You have had to wait for her all day (a few hours). 
Sneaking into the kitchen you quietly walk up behind Leigh and wrap your arms around her, your voice is low when you speak. "Hello wife," you say, pressing a kiss on Leigh's neck. 
You don't think you will ever tire of saying that - 'wife'. 
Leigh greets you back and when you look up to see the full grocery bags she turns her head to peck you on the cheek. She busies herself with emptying the contents of said bags. 
After you place another peck on Leigh's shoulder you pull away giving her some space to continue with what she is doing. 
You stand by her side leaning against the counter and crossing your arms over your chest.
"Mrs Leigh Shaw, my love, my wife, the eternal light of my life." Leigh raises an eyebrow at your antics wondering where this is going to go. “I have a question for you.” 
You don't wait for a response and continue, "Does 'You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them' sound familiar to you?" You ask. 
Leigh squints her eyes at you confused. 
To clarify, you add sweetly, "What were you dreaming about last night, love?" While grinning. 
It's quick, and if you were anyone else they would not have seen it. There is the briefest look of realisation on your wife's face before she schools her features once more. 
And even though you know she knows you can catch her in a lie, she still chooses to withhold the truth from you. 
"I don't know what you're talking about, babe." Leigh grins back then turns around to walk to one of the cabinets to put some cans of food away. Purposely looking away from you because she doesn't want you to see the sheepish look on her face. 
Oh, she wants to play. Time for a little fun. 
"Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie,” your grin widens as you raise an eyebrow. 
Leigh makes her way back to stand next to you seemingly unaffected. 
Being with Leigh for so long means you know all the right buttons to press. So the tone of voice you use is one you know will get a reaction out of her. 
You lean in close, one hand leaning against the counter, the other going to the small of Leigh's back while you speak low, “You know, I know when you're lying. Why must we play these games, Mrs Shaw?” 
Leigh glances over at you from the corner of her eye then sighs, resting her hands on the flat surface in what you think is defeat. 
You're so close to her now you can practically feel the effect you have on her especially with your voice teasing Leigh right by her ear, "Tell me love, what was it you were dreaming about?" 
Leigh turns her head to you, your lips inches apart. You twitch your eyebrow while biting your bottom lip ready for Leigh to fall victim to your charm. 
What you don't expect is for Leigh to reverse the roles. 
"What if I say I was dreaming about you?" It's Leigh's turn to raise her eyebrows and bite her lip. 
"I had you in the palm of my hand,” she narrates sultrily, hand on your chest to push you so that your back is pressed against the edge of the counter. “And you just wanted to," Leigh's hand slowly makes its way up your bicep,"touch me." She finishes as her hands glide up your neck and rest there.
Goosebumps flair on your skin as you sigh, affected by how close she is, her breath brushing your lips. Your eyelids droop as she takes hold of your stings and plays you like a puppet. 
This is not going how you thought it would. 
"Then what happened," you whisper. You're surprised you even get the words out with the way her fingers play with the hairs at the nape of your neck.
"And then," she pushes her body, if possible, even closer to yours. Her soft edges mould perfectly to you while your arms catch up to the instructions your brain is sending out to wrap around her waist. You feel heat radiating from your cheeks and the tips of your ears when she brushes her nose against yours. 
When she leans in, “And then…” you blink slowly waiting for the gap to close. But Leigh pulls away, "And then I woke up!" She slaps your cheek twice then heads out of the kitchen, leaving you standing there in a dumbfounded mess. 
"You can finish with the groceries, I'm going to go shower," Leigh says, her voice bright. She pauses at the doorway to look over her shoulder at you. You, with your wide eyed, mouth agape look of despair, "love." Then proceeds to walk away. 
You rub the back of your neck while you scrunch your eyebrows together, "What just happened?" You sigh to yourself, looking at the items that still need to be put away. Your brain then slowly catches up with the fact you had just been played. 
Freezing for a second, it hits you. What she instructed. And where she is going. 
You scoff as a smirk takes over your face and before you know it you're racing off in the direction your wife just went, "Leigh Shaw, you're going to regret that!" 
When Leigh hears your footsteps closing in on her she tries to run away but you are too quick for her. Leigh shrieks when your arms wrap around her, capturing her like prey. 
You both fall into a fit of laughter stopping a few feet from the bathroom. Turning Leigh around in your arms, she buries her face in your neck to avoid looking at you, playing coy. 
"Nuh uh, let me see those pretty eyes, baby," you say, using your hand to guide her face away from its hiding place. 
When her green eyes meet yours your smile is automatic. You swear you see them sparkle with how much they seem to be shining at this moment. The sparkle you initially think is admiration turns out to be mischief. 
She raises an eyebrow, "So, how exactly am I going to regret my actions?" Leigh asks cheekily. 
"Let's just say, 'You did some bad things, but I'm going to be the worst one of them'." You mock Leigh with her own words from last night, making yourself chuckle. 
In response Leigh rolls her eyes, pushing your shoulder. 
Shortly after, the mischievous look takes over her face once again, "I want to know how you're going to punish me." 
That damn lip bite is going to be the death of you, but this time you are not going to let her win. 
You lift her up with ease and lean in close, your lips barely grazing hers to say, "Oh, I have a few ideas," before closing the gap between you and making your way to the bathroom. 
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ginnsbaker · 8 months ago
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (12/?)
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Part Summary: You know Leigh well enough to recognize that she never acts without intention. She must have agonized about this too—about that kiss, about you. And she's making it difficult for you to guess just what conclusions she had come to in the time you were apart.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.500+ | Warnings: Smut | Author's note: I honestly don't know what else to write in the summary without giving too much away, so without further ado… P.S. No cliffhangers this time ;)
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI
-
A week after Thanksgiving, as the icy Maine wind whips across the tarmac at Rockland Airport, you find yourself holding a container of lobster cakes—your mother's way of sending a piece of home back with you. Despite her protests about you cutting your visit short, she spent last night in the kitchen, crafting your favorite dish, the smell of butter and ocean filling the house. “Eat these when you miss home,” she had said, pressing the container into your hands with a sad smile. The decision to leave early was anything but easy.
You initially planned to stay five more days in Camden, but Leigh's radio silence prompted you to book a direct flight to Los Angeles. It was eating you up inside; you had to go back. The familiar dark screen of your phone kept you on edge; you hadn't expected Leigh to strictly follow through on her promise not to contact you. She had a way of doing the unexpected. Or maybe you've been so wrapped up in your thoughts that you underestimated how deeply she wanted you that night. And perhaps you've overestimated your own anger, believing it would even slightly lessen your feelings for her.
Sitting in the window seat with the whole row to yourself, you stare at your phone as the flight attendant's voice crackles over the intercom, signaling it's time to switch to airplane mode. Impulsively, you tap out a text to her.
Belated Happy Thanksgiving, Leigh. If you’re free tomorrow evening, maybe we could talk? Perhaps over dinner?
It’s straightforward, maybe too much so, but it’s sent before you can overthink it.
The flight attendant's voice fills the cabin once more, reminding everyone to switch their devices as the plane is about to take off. You comply, toggling the setting and sealing off any immediate replies. The engines roar to life, and as the plane ascends, you try to push away the knot of apprehension tightening in your stomach.
As you wait to fall asleep, you think about Leigh—whether she’s seen your message and what she might be feeling. You wonder about the time apart, recalling the old saying that distance makes the heart grow fonder.
Or does it make it forget instead?
-
You touch down in L.A. just as the date ticks over to December 1st, the clock a little past midnight. The moment the plane reaches the gate, you grab your phone and switch off airplane mode. There's a message from your mom, checking in to see if you've landed safely, and you text her back to let her know you did. Suzie has also texted, saying Foreman called in sick and asking if you can cover at the clinic later. You shoot back a quick reply, saying you just landed, you'll catch some sleep, and might be in late in the morning.
But there’s nothing from Leigh. No text, no missed call, nothing to indicate she received your message or is interested in meeting.
You sigh and, without thinking, tap her name on the screen. The call goes through, and the phone rings as you make your way through the late-night crowd at LAX. It continues ringing, unanswered, until it finally clicks over to voicemail. You mutter a soft curse under your breath. Of course, she's not going to pick up—it's 12:30 in the morning. You consider sending a quick apology text but then reconsider, figuring you've already pushed enough boundaries by calling her this late.
Instead, you slide your phone back into your pocket and head toward baggage claim. You weave through the half-awake travelers and the sterile glow of the airport lights, finally spotting your suitcase trundling along the carousel. You heft it off and make your way through the automatic doors. You glance one more time at your phone, half hoping for a notification, but it's blank. With a sigh, you head for the exit, feeling the exhaustion settle in.
-
You check your inbox first thing in the morning, but there's still nothing from Leigh. You don't have time to overanalyze this again because you're already running late for work.
-
The whole day is swamped, with emergencies piling up alongside a packed schedule of immunizations and follow-ups. Suzie mistakenly booked an entire week's worth of scheduled vaccines for today, a Saturday. She explains that the clients requested to move their appointments to the weekend, adding, “We're closed on Sundays, so I thought today would work.”
You try to hide your frustration, not wanting to lay the blame on her. Your nerves are already frayed, and every hour that passes without a word from Leigh has you feeling more on edge.  As you tend to your patients and give instructions to the staff, you feel the pressure building, a headache beginning to throb behind your eyes. The never-ending stream of clients leaves you with no time to catch your breath. Between each appointment, you plaster on a polite smile, but inside, you're counting down the minutes until you can check out of, well, everything.
As the clock hits seven, you can't take another minute. The clinic has been a madhouse since the doors opened. You barely glance at Suzie as you callously tell her, “Close early. I'm tired.” Without waiting for her response, you trudge straight to your office and slump into your chair, eyes closed against the harsh fluorescent lights. Resting your head back, you exhale slowly, letting the tension drain from your shoulders. The fatigue wraps itself around you like a fog, and for a moment, everything falls away.
A few minutes later, you hear a gentle knock. It's Suzie, standing in the doorway with a paper in her hand. Without opening your eyes, you mutter, “What is it?” Your irritation seeps through, but you’re too drained to rein it in.
Suzie hesitates before stepping into your office, her expression unreadable. She extends the paper towards you. “It's my resignation letter,” she says quietly.
Your eyes snap open, and the paper feels heavier than it should as you take it from her hands. You’ve been nothing short of awful to her all day, snapping at every turn. 
“Is this about today?” you ask. 
She gives you a small, weary smile and points to the date on the letter. “I wrote this last week, right after you left for Maine.”
You glance down at the letter and see that it’s dated exactly a week ago. “Why didn’t you give it to me sooner?”
“I didn’t want to ruin your vacation,” she says softly. “I know how much you needed that break. And honestly, you’ve got enough on your plate right now without me adding to it.”
You can feel the burn of frustration and shame behind your eyes. “You’ve been a rock here, Suzie. I don’t want you to go. Please reconsider.”
She shakes her head gently. “I’ve thought this through. It’s time. I care about this place, and about you, but I need to move on.”
You let out a long breath. “I see. Still, I'm sorry today was so rough,” you say, looking up at her wistfully. You try working your puppy eyes, and for a moment it seems effective as her expression softens into a frown. 
But then she says, “It’s not the clinic or the work I do here. I got an offer for a research position; it's something I've always wanted to try.”
That makes you smile. If that’s the case, then you’re truly happy for her.
“I understand. I wish you hadn't felt the need to keep this to yourself, especially with everything else happening today,” you say, still clutching the paper tightly in your hand, crumpling it slightly.
Suzie shrugs. “I didn't want to add to your stress. Don’t worry, I’ll count the 30 days' notice from today, not the date on my resignation, so you have time to find someone to replace me.”
From that, you know her mind’s already made up. As you read her letter again, your eyes start to sting. You glance back up at her, your vision blurring. “Suzie, thank you,” you mumble thickly.
“Hey, it's okay,” she says gently. “I'm not leaving town. We can still grab lunch whenever. I know how glued to your desk you get, so I'll drag you out for a bite now and then.” You let out a shaky chuckle, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.
“It's just—I’m going to miss you, and I don’t know how I'll replace you,” you say with a sniffle.
“Missing me is a given,” she says, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Actually, I might know someone interested in my job.”
Your ears perk up at that. Good help is hard to find these days, especially with more demands from applicants and a tight job market. “Who?” you ask, curious.
Suzie turns around as if she's going to leave without answering, but then she glances over her shoulder, her smirk widening. “Sara.”
-
A little while later, you catch Suzie just as she's finishing up in the lobby.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll lock up. You’ve done enough today,” you say, sending her home. She gives you a grateful smile, slings her bag over her shoulder, and wishes you a good night before heading out.
Finally alone, you take a moment to decompress. Clasping your hands behind your back, you stretch, trying to release the day's tension. A dull ache climbs up your spine, reminding you how tight your muscles are. Unable to hold the position for more than a few seconds, you relax, the discomfort too much to bear. It's hard to tell whether it's from the long-haul flight yesterday, your age creeping up on you, poor posture, or all of the above. 
On a whim, you book a late-night yoga session at the Beautiful Beast, hoping to relieve the tightness in your back. It’s been a while since your last visit.
Afterward, you head to the small bathroom in your office to get ready. It's basic, not meant for much more than washing hands and changing scrubs, but it’s all you've got. Stripping off your day's clothes, you step into the shower, letting the hot water beat down on your back. The steam fills the tiny space, and the heat melts a bit of the stiffness away. After a quick rinse, you towel off and slip into your yoga gear. The stretchy fabric feels liberating after being in stiff work clothes all day. You roll up your yoga mat, tucked behind the office door, and switch off the bathroom light.
As you're about to head out of the clinic, you check your phone, hoping to see something from Leigh. There's nothing—she hasn’t even read your last message. The stonewalling feels all too familiar, and you're tired of it.
You slide into your car, letting out a weary sigh. As you start the engine, thoughts of Suzie's suggestion to hire Sara sneak back into your mind. You can't help but chortle at the idea—it’s so unexpected, almost comical, considering how you know Sara and her standing friends-with-benefits proposition. It feels far-fetched, and knowing Suzie, she was likely just teasing.
The drive to the fitness studio is as mechanical as it gets. You're hardly aware of the turns you take until you park in front of the building. You step out, mind still elsewhere, and open your car door—right into someone walking by.
“Ow!”
“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—” you start to say, cutting yourself off when you see who it is. 
Leigh, of all people, is rubbing her elbow, wincing. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, and she’s wearing a plain white shirt under a jacket, paired with simple black tights. 
“See me? Lovely excuse,” she quips, her eyes fixed on her arm rather than you. Her expression is primed to unleash more frustration when she finally turns to meet the source of the blunder.
 “I—” Leigh stops, visibly surprised to see you. Quickly, her face smooths into something more neutral. “Y/N. You…you really should watch it.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. “Are you alright?”
She rubs her elbow once more, then nods slowly. “Just startled me a bit, but I’m fine.”
Once you both regain your bearings, you unconsciously begin rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, hesitating despite the things you’ve rehearsed in your head all week. Your text message inviting her to meet tonight lingers at the forefront of your mind. But before you can bring it up, Leigh catches you by surprise.
“So, you’re heading in for a class?” she asks casually, as if the last time you saw each other didn’t end with a kiss and a confrontation that put the aforementioned kiss on hold.
“Uh, yeah, yeah, I am,” you reply. Then you remember Leigh doesn't work here anymore, but with her mother owning the place, it's no surprise to see her around occasionally. 
Still, you ask, “How about you?”
“You mind if we walk while we talk?” Leigh suggests.
You nod, a little thrown off but managing to say, “Sure, just let me grab my stuff.” 
She waits a few seconds as you gather your belongings, and then you both start walking toward the building. Leigh sets a brisk pace, always a step ahead, and you find yourself almost hurrying to keep up with her.
“I just got back to working here again,” she says after a beat.
Surprised, you ask, “Oh, how did that happen?”
“Long story,” she replies with a slight shrug, her eyes focused ahead.
Unsatisfied with her vague answer, your eyes drift to her lips. Memories of that last kiss flood back—their soft, velvety feel and that distinct taste that’s all hers, like fresh water after a long, grueling hike. It's a taste that's unmistakably Leigh, nothing else like it. As you walk together, you struggle to stay present. This isn’t at all how you pictured your reunion with her would go. Not by a long shot.
“Leigh,” you call out, stopping abruptly. Your voice comes out higher than intended, quivering a bit. You clear your throat and try again, “D-Did you get my text yesterday?”
Leigh glances back over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. “No.”
The bluntness leaves you momentarily stunned. You wait for her to follow up, to ask about the text, but she doesn’t. As you both step into the Beautiful Beast studio, you start to ask if you can talk later, but Leigh gets there first.
“We can pick this up later, Y/N. We should really get to class,” she says, heading into the room full of waiting students without waiting for your answer.
You're left more stumped than ever. Last time, she was almost on her knees, begging for forgiveness. Now, she's acting like nothing happened. How did everything change so much in just a week? With a head full of questions and doubts, you roll out your yoga mat and try to focus on the practice ahead. You can't help but wonder if the kiss you shared with Leigh really happened or if it was just a mirage of your desires.
You struggle through some of the poses, wobbling and nearly toppling over more than once. Leigh, however, doesn't chide or correct you as she used to; she mostly leaves you alone, focusing instead on helping others who are struggling more than you. It makes you feel strangely isolated, even though you know she's just fulfilling her role as an instructor and there are plenty of beginners in tonight’s session.
As the hour winds down, Leigh's soft “Namaste” signals the end of the class. She bows gracefully to the students, and you don't waste a moment, rising immediately to make your way to her as she rolls up her mat.
“Leigh.”
“Hey,” she responds breathlessly, not looking up. Other students pass by, thanking her, and she responds with smiles and cheerful “see you next times.” You stand there, feeling awkward as you wait for a turn.
When the last person leaves, Leigh finally looks up at you. “What's up?” she asks.
You find yourself stuttering, still fixated on the text message. Feeling a bit pathetic about how much it’s affecting you, but you shake it off, remembering why you cut your visit to Camden short. It was because of this—because of her.
“Leigh, can we talk? About... you know, how we left things that night?”
Her face remains jarringly impartial as she wipes down her mat. “Talk? Here? Right now?”
You quickly shake your head. “No, I don't mean right this second,” you clarify, watching her closely to gauge her reaction. Are you the only one feeling like you're on a tightrope? 
“You haven't had dinner yet, right?” You try to sound nonchalant too, but it's a struggle.
She looks around the emptying studio as if she needs a moment to consider. After a few beats, she nods. “Sure, why not? I’ll just change and meet you out front.”
You can't help but smile, mainly out of relief that she said yes. “Great, see you in a minute,” you say, realizing you need to change into drier clothes too.
Fifteen minutes later, Leigh steps out, looking refreshed as if she didn't just burn through a few hundred calories leading a rigorous yoga session. She's wearing a cozy gray sweater and cargo pants, a much more laid-back look compared to your jeans and cardigan.
As she draws near, she tilts her head slightly and says, “I actually brought a car. Have you thought of where we're going to get dinner?”
You scramble to think of a suitable place. In-N-Out pops into your head—quick, easy, but completely wrong for the kind of talk you need to have. You can't imagine hashing out your feelings under the harsh lights of a fast food place, over burgers and fries.
“Um,” you stammer, looking around like inspiration might hit you in the face. 
“How about we head to your apartment?” Leigh suggests out of nowhere. “It's closer, and we could grab some drive-thru on the way.”
You blink at her suggestion, surprised she'd even consider it after everything that went down last time at your place.
“There's only one parking spot,” you say blankly. “And the street has no parking after 10 p.m.”
Leigh seems unfazed, offering a quick solution. “Then we’ll just take your car. I can leave mine here.”
Your nerves flare at the thought of having her back in your apartment. Your tongue feels heavy, and you can't think of a single reason to tell her why it’s a bad idea.
“Okay,” you say slowly. “Let's do that.”
You head to your car together, fumbling with the keys as you unlock it. Leigh slips into the passenger seat, and you take a deep breath before starting the engine. You pull into a drive-thru of In-N-Out and Leigh scrolls through her phone, picking out what to order. 
You know Leigh well enough to recognize that she never acts without intention. She must have agonized about this too—about that kiss, about you. And she's making it difficult for you to guess just what conclusions she had come to in the time you were apart.
-
The takeout is spread across your dining table, a small feast that Leigh ordered for the two of you. Boxes of fries, nuggets, and burgers crowd the surface, enough to feed a group. You barely nibble on a fry while Leigh is already finishing her cheeseburger, wiping her fingers with a napkin and eyeing the remaining food.
“You weren’t hungry, huh?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Guess not,” you reply, wiping away the residual salt from your fingers.
Leigh takes a sip of her drink, washing down the last bite before looking at you with purpose. “Mind if I go first?” she asks.
You narrow your eyes. So, she's eager to dive right in. “Sure, go ahead,” you say. You observe Leigh closely for the first time in what feels like ages. Concealer cakes beneath her eyes, settling into the natural wrinkles there. She’s still undeniably beautiful, but there's a tiredness to her now that’s hard to miss. Her cheeks, usually lifted by her prominent cheekbones, seem hollowed out more than usual.
“I guess I want to start by saying that I'm…” Leigh trails off, her eyes darting around as if the right words might be hidden among the packets of ketchup and silverware. “...a horrible person.”
You open your mouth to protest, but she cuts you off smoothly.
“No, listen. You were right. I ignore you out of nowhere. I take advantage of your kindness. And it’s not just you—I’ve been doing this with everyone around me for a while now. I haven't cared about what others think or feel because I was focused on being true to myself, always playing the ‘dead husband’ card. I’ve taken everyone's patience and understanding for granted, and I’m really, really sorry.”
You sit back, stunned. The whole evening, you'd braced for a different kind of conversation. You expected Leigh to say the kiss was a mistake—just a result of nerves or a lapse in judgment driven by jealousy. You had been so sure she'd shut you down, just like all the other times. 
“You're sorry?” The words slip out unbidden, tinged with surprise and skepticism.
“Yeah,” she says, looking you square in the eye. “I know it's hard to believe, but I really am sorry for how I've treated you.”
It’s going well—too well. Your mind struggles to accept it, but your heart?
“I thought you were going to say that night was a mistake. That the kiss meant nothing,” you whisper so faintly, almost as if you don't want her to hear.
“It kept me up for nights,” Leigh replies just as softly, “and that doesn’t usually happen to me over a simple kiss.”
Your heart soars.
She doesn’t regret it. She’s sorry. This is all going too well.
“It was on my mind the whole time, even when I was all the way across the country,” you whisper wantonly. 
The corners of Leigh’s lips twitch upward, and you can't tell if it's a good sign. Her saying she’s just as affected blinds you to any other cues that might suggest otherwise.
“There’s something else I need to tell you,” Leigh says darkly, leaning back into her chair with a weary slump. “Because I’m done living in half-truths and half-realities. I can’t handle any more surprises.”
You feel a flash of confusion, trying to stitch together what Leigh might say next. She knows about your cheesy alter-ego on her advice column, the details of your past with Matt. But half-truths? What does she mean by that?
Leigh meets your gaze, and there’s something about her stare that tells you she’s coming apart, yet she's clenching every muscle to keep herself intact. You want to reach across the table, to offer a touch that might steady her, but her hands are hidden, clenched in her lap beneath the table. Her shoulders hunch, making her seem smaller, as if she's trying to fold into herself.
“Leigh, just tell me,” you urge, though not impatiently.
She exhales slowly, the breath you hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I broke up with Danny,” she finally says, and for a brief, absurd moment, relief washes over you. 
That's…it? 
Your smile starts to form, naive in its inception, but it’s quickly stifled as Leigh’s voice drops lower, and her next words cut through the nascent joy. 
“And then he said something I didn't think could drive the dagger Matt left in my heart any deeper,” she says slowly, like she’s having a hard time dragging every syllable.
Leigh takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling deliberately. “He told me he was pretty involved when you and Matt got together. That you first knew him as Nick, and he helped Matt reach out to you.”
Your heart sinks. You had almost forgotten that night with Danny when you discovered his real identity and how he fit into everything. He'd begged you to keep quiet, and in his desperation, you agreed—not because he pleaded, but because you believed Leigh was happy with him. It wasn’t your secret to reveal, not then.
You've known this all along and never said a word. Your throat tightens as panic sets in, your heart racing with the implications of having kept this from Leigh. Guilt pricks at you, cold and sharp.
“I…” Your voice falters, and you swallow hard, thinking, This is it, this is how I lose her. 
“I didn’t think it was my place to say anything,” you say. “I thought you were happy with him. I didn’t want to be the one to—”
“Y/N,” Leigh interjects softly. Her tone stops you cold—it's not angry, just… defeated. Which, somehow, feels worse. She looks down, twisting a napkin between her fingers. “I’m telling you this because I’m finding out that secrets can be just as hard to handle as loss.”
You nod absentmindedly, still processing, and move to clear the table in a daze. Wrapping up the leftover food, you tuck it into the fridge. The mundane task doesn't ease the tightness in your chest, but it gives your hands something to do.
“You’re not upset I didn’t tell you?” you ask, like you can’t believe you’ll come out of this conversation unscathed.
Leigh takes her time to answer. With your focus on tidying up, you miss the way her hands ball into fists. When she finally speaks, her voice has a steely edge for the first time this evening.
“At first, I was livid, of course. But Danny bore the brunt of it. He claimed he wanted me, but he was never on my side. If he were, he would’ve never helped Matt cheat on me.”
You finish tucking the last container into the fridge and lean back against the counter, your eyes on Leigh. She's staring out the window. How is it that she’s telling you these things, yet it still feels like she’s not revealing anything at all?
“I should’ve told you sooner,” you say softly. “I’m sorry.”
Leigh gets up and walks toward you. She stops so close that your breath catches. You remember the last time she was this near, how the world blurred, and how hard it was to think clearly. You can see the way her jaw tightens as she takes a breath.
“It wasn’t your secret to tell,” she says.
“But—” you start to say, though the thought fizzles out as she steps even closer.
“You're okay in that regard,” she murmurs, her voice low. 
In that regard? 
You want to ask what she means, but Leigh shuffles nearer still, her eyes searching your face. She's so close now that you can see the faint reflection of the kitchen light in her eyes, specs of yellow in darkened green. It’s nothing short of dazzling.
“Do you forgive me for last time?” she asks quietly. 
A lump forms in your throat, and all you can think about is how desperately you don't want to mess this up. You had forgiven her long before stepping onto a plane back to Maine. It happened as soon as you let her walk away that night, but you just couldn't accept how easy it was. 
You nod, unable to trust your ability to speak. 
Leigh's eyes soften as she watches you. Her fingertips brush against your jaw, her touch feather-light. 
“Is it okay if I kiss you, then?” she asks, both careful and seductive.
Your resounding yes comes in the form of you closing the gap, your lips meeting hers like an arrow striking its target. Leigh’s arms wrap around your shoulders instinctively, her fingers brushing the back of your neck, and you pull her in even tighter, deepening the kiss. Her breath mingles with yours as she sighs softly against your mouth, and it’s only then that when you feel all of her that Los Angeles starts to feel like a second home.
There are still questions, an unending list that always surfaces around Leigh, but they evaporate one by one when her tongue flicks out, seeking entrance. You surrender, lips parting, allowing her to taste you. The kiss grows with a messy urgency in seconds. Her hands roam down your back, gripping tightly as she presses in, as if trying to melt into you. You draw her nearer, your chests flush together as the kiss becomes wet and breathless.
Your apartment is silent except for your soft pants and the slick sounds of your lips meeting.  Doubts about your ability to please a woman creep in after such a long hiatus. But before these thoughts can take hold, Leigh takes charge. She grabs your hips and gently guides you backward toward the bedroom, cutting off any chance for you to slow things down.
She breaks the kiss just long enough to slip your cardigan off your shoulders and whisper, her breath warm against your lips, “Should we take this somewhere more comfortable?”
It seems almost unfair for her to pose that question while simultaneously moving to your neck, drawing a soft groan from you. Her teeth gently graze a sensitive spot just below your clavicle, applying pressure that promises to leave a mark, then soothing it with her tongue.
Leigh smirks when she feels you struggle for breath, much less for words. Your knees buckle slightly, but she holds you up with a firm grip, guiding you back until you bump against the edge of the bed. 
You know you're on the verge of something that might change everything, but right now, you're entirely Leigh's. There's no space to consider the implications, to remember that she was Matt's grieving widow just months ago. Right now, she's just the girl who holds your attention completely, the one who couldn't get rid of you even if she tried.
Leigh tumbles with you onto the bed, her thighs straddling your hips. With practiced ease, she removes her shirt and bra all at once, leaving her bare above you. The sight strips you of any last coherent thought. She isn’t the image of perfection peddled in glossy and well-curated social feeds; her body is beautifully real. Her tits look heavy and asymmetrical, round as grapefruit; her nipples pinkish-brown, pebbled and inviting. There’s a soft fold in her belly, and an overwhelming desire washes over you to kiss it. You think you might die just from looking at her.
You look up at Leigh and tell her, reverently, “You’re so devastatingly beautiful.” 
Leigh's cheeks flush as she tries to hide her smile behind her hair. “You don't have to tell me that,” she whispers. “You already got me into your bed.”
You chuckle, nerves still humming under the surface. “You were just as beautiful when devouring a cheeseburger.” Both of you laugh, the sound light and easy, allowing some of the thick sexual energy to dissipate slightly. 
You find yourself relaxing just enough to admit, “I'm not sure how to touch you right, but I want to make you feel good.”
“Just do whatever feels good for you,” she suggests, her expression softening further.
You scrunch your face a little at her, letting out a small chuckle. “That’s the thing—I haven't been getting much action myself.”
Leigh’s smile spreads wider into something mischievous and you swallow dryly at the sight. She shifts off your lap and settles at your side, propping herself up on one arm to look down at you. “Let me help you with that,” she murmurs, her voice low.
You're no longer smiling, feeling your face flush as you ask, “What do you have in mind?”
Instead of answering, Leigh’s fingers trace down to the button of your pants, deftly unfastening it. She gently scratches the skin beneath with her fingernail before sliding the zipper down. You watch as she bites her lip at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear before glancing back up at you. Her pupils are wide, the deep green of her irises barely visible in the surrounding darkness.
“Take them off,” she instructs softly.
You swallow heavily and do as she says, trying not to cover yourself despite feeling incredibly vulnerable. You haven't been naked in front of anyone in so long, and you're embarrassed by how exposed and wet you are right now.
Leigh watches you closely, and you can see the desire burning in her gaze. With her free hand, she reaches for you, her touch gentle, coaxing your thighs open as she trails her fingers up your inner thigh. You draw a sharp breath and close your eyes, expecting her fingers to graze your wetness next.
But Leigh surprises you—and herself—by guiding your right hand just below your navel, her fingers warm and sure on your wrist. Her times with Danny were about dominating and taking, but with you, she wants to give, to watch, to soak up every moan, every breathy reaction, every shiver. She wants to see you take pleasure for yourself, deriving her own pleasure from it.
“Start there,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear. “Tease yourself.”
Your hand hovers there, and she gives a slight nod of encouragement. As her touch slips away, you begin to explore the softness of your own skin, tracing light circles below your belly button. You utter a soft, “Fuck,” when your fingertips graze your slick, discovering just how turned on you really are. The filthy noises it creates make you whimper.
Leigh watches you hungrily. “You should be doing this more often,” she murmurs, eyes tracing the movement of your fingers now glistening with your own arousal. “You're so fucking hot. It's such a shame.”
The sound of her voice makes you arch your back further, hips bucking as you start a wide circular motion against your clit. Exerting every ounce of control not to come right away, you focus on the sensation of Leigh's eyes on you and the stimulation from your own fingers. You want to hold out, to let her watch you teeter on the edge. Your teeth dig into your lower lip, trying to curb the wave of pleasure building inside you.
Leigh's voice is a soothing command, whispering, “That's it, be patient. Don't rush it.”
“Fuck, Leigh, I’m—” Your words die in your throat as she lifts your shirt slowly, exposing your nipple to the cool air for a brief moment before her mouth engulfs it. The sensation of her sucking, then laving your nipple with her tongue, circling it, mimicking the motion you're doing on your clit, sends a jolt through you. Little flicks of her tongue to the tip of your nipple drive you crazy, and you gasp, your body responding eagerly to her touch.
Your rhythm stutters as she discards her pants and panties in one swift motion, leaving her gloriously bare. The sight of her naked body ignites a strong wave of desire to touch her instead, but Leigh pins you with a warning glare, silently telling you not to stop.
She straddles one of your legs, and you gasp when you feel her warm, wet pussy against your knee as she starts rocking against it. You position your leg to give her better leverage, and she starts sliding against you, her tits bouncing with each motion. Leigh's sucking on your nipple becomes sloppier, more frantic, until she can no longer concentrate and releases it with a wet pop.
“Oh, fuck, Y/N—” 
Leigh’s face contorts in pleasure as her drenched folds meet your thigh over and over, sweat dripping down between her breasts from the strain of holding herself up above you. The sight of her fucking herself against your leg is nothing short of mesmerizing. You increase the movements of your fingers, rubbing harshly at your clit as you watch Leigh, her breath coming in short gasps. Her eyes flutter closed, and a soft moan escapes her lips. The sound drives you wild, and you curve your spine, lifting your hips to meet your own hand.
Sex with anyone else has never felt this good before, and she hasn’t even properly touched you yet. It’s intoxicating, the way she takes her pleasure and gives it to you all at once. You’re lost in the haze of it all: the smell of Leigh’s arousal, her sweat-soaked skin, the sight of her tits bouncing and her face flushed with desire.
With your free hand, you grab the back of Leigh's head, guiding her down towards you. “C-Come here,” you manage to say, your voice breaking with need. 
Leigh obeys, her mouth meeting yours in a frenzied kiss. You swallow each other's moans, the taste of her lips sending a fresh wave of desire coursing through you. It's this simple, sweet connection of lips that utterly dissolves all your defenses.
A keening moan escapes you as Leigh slides a finger inside you, pushing deep to the third knuckle, causing your head to tip back and break the kiss as the tightness in your belly becomes too much. “Leigh, can I—” Your voice is a mere whisper, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.
Leigh's eyes meet yours, and she nods vigorously, her breath coming in short gasps. “Yes, come. Come with me.”
It's too much—the sight, the sounds, the feel of her—it’s all too much. With a final, shuddering whine, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you. Your body convulses, muscles clenching and releasing as you ride out the intense pleasure. Moments later, Leigh follows, her body shaking as she comes, her moans mingling with yours. Leigh’s face is a picture of bliss, her eyes half-closed, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. You try to memorize it before she collapses on top of you, a sweaty mess of tangled limbs and satisfied sighs.
Blindly, you stare up at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath, feeling Leigh's hot puffs of air tickle your neck as she catches hers. Slowly, you circle your arms around her waist, keeping her on top of you, acutely aware of every point where your skin meets hers, the warmth spreading between you. 
You bury your nose in her hair and breathe in deeply. This act feels more intimate than anything you had done moments ago. The simple closeness, the quiet afterglow, the way you can actually feel her heart beating steadily against your chest.
Minutes pass in comfortable silence, your thumb tracing lazy patterns on her back. Her breathing gradually evens out, each exhale growing softer and deeper. Realizing she's fallen asleep, a contented smile spreads across your face. You press a gentle kiss to her temple, letting your lips linger there for a moment. Carefully, you reach for the covers and draw them over both of you. You hold her close until your own eyelids grow heavy, and you drift off to sleep as well.
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imthxtgood · 1 month ago
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Sorry For Your Loss 01x03: 'Jackie O. & Courtney Love.'
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lizzieolsenlover · 11 months ago
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I desperately need someone who can make a phone wallpaper out of these pictures ❤️😭
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fandomnerd9602 · 1 year ago
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Y/N walks in and sees Leigh’s Christmas sweater…
Y/N: oh goodness that sweater is ugly!
Leigh: you picked it out for me!
Y/N: I know. I did that on purpose
Leigh: why?
Y/N: because I wanted you in something so hideous, I’d rip you out of it the first chance I could
Leigh: you have to catch me first (laughs)
Y/N chases Leigh around the house…
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bingu-lou · 8 months ago
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