#oh and shaw was not there too?
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btw where is malacia
#unless im blind#whereismyson??#oh and shaw was not there too?#our left backs really left our backs huh
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Person of Interest | 3.03 'Lady Killer'
#person of interest#poiedit#tvedit#poi spoilers#sameen shaw#john reese#nikolatexla#this episode was wild!#guys so what's up with jim caviezel?? so i followed him a while ago on insta and i wasn't satisfied with what i saw so i unfollowed him#i believe he's a pretty devout person. also a trump supporter 🥴️ ofc im not hating the character he portrayed bc of that#also a bunch of people in tags called him shit and jerk so i wanna talk about it. was he rude on set or is this just about his personality?#titc enlightened me about this thank you. so basically like every religious zealots this guy is an absolute lunatic.#i have dozens of them in my country too. 'the president is the new moses' oh go fuck yourself pls
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Just wrote 10+ pages to finish my Mayhem Twins, Strangers to Siblings, fake dating/couples counseling fic that has expanded into them being involved in so many shenanigans behind the scenes and has Root, Harold, and Cole building The Machine together in the background!
So if someone wants to read that encourage me to type it up & post it before I reason myself into never letting it see the light of day
#I went way too hard on my world building/ background planning and will likely write one-shots about it cause most of it didn't fit#like Shaw Zoe & Fusco starting a theivery ring similar to Leverage and helping people in trouble- while stealing other stuff for money!#and John & Carter try to track them down!#person of interest#sameen shaw#john reese#fic writing#oh and the reason I say type it up is because I wrote it in cursive in a notebook! In total it's like 15 pages so I wrote most of it today.
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"If there was anything to be noticed, I believe that you, the connoisseur of human nature, you would have noticed it."
Sir Charles and Poirot pay a visit to Miss Wills at the theatre.
#three act tragedy#sir charles cartwright#hercule poirot#muriel wills#martin shaw#david suchet#kate ashfield#I'm just shamelessly taking any opportunity to plaster his pretty face all over my dash#every scene with him in it makes me go:#“oh I need to gif this!”#I also want to pet his hair - is that too much to ask?
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the one problem with someone writing THE perfect fic for a certain pairing (Especially rarepairs) is that then youre forever left chasing more like that one perfect fic :(
obviously theres LOTS of good fics out there and i also have a lot of faves that are more ooc (as a completely neutral descriptor!) and very fun. but theres always those one or two fics for a pairing that drive me fucking insane and i have to space out my rereads.
#this is because i reread the stone butch geralt fic again. which lives at all times in my head rent free#and is why i started my most recent wild hunt playthru.#one line especially i truly think about on a WEEKLY basis.#this is also though about that ofos butch/femme moicy fic.#and the shaw/root/the machine series.#and. the one active kigo fic im subscribed to. which im rereading from the beginning rn bc it just updated.#and bc something about kigo makes me insane like no other ship ever has since.#OH AND OF COURSE. KNIGHT AU. though that may as well be original chars but it belongs in the same category.#my posts#feel free to ask for the names of any of these lol. at some point ill do a fave fics list maybe. though that may be too illuminating lol.
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I keep thinking about Shaw’s occasional /ˈvəʊ.kəl ˌsɪt.juːˈeɪ.ʃən/ (vocal situation), mostly about how it sounds to other people. Because for all intents and purposes, he sounds like he’s speaking English. Anyone who’s listening can clearly recognize that the patterns of phonemes and intonation match up with the language. He should be saying things that have meaning to you.
They just… don’t. There’s no connection between the sounds he says and their meaning as English words to an observer. It’s headache inducing to listen to, because the entire time you’re pressingly aware that you should understand him. That the patterns of sounds should be something you immediately can attribute meaning to. But it’s nothing but pure noise.
#zeeposting#august shaw#my poor poor man with every disease#no wonder he gets high all the time if it took continuous focus#for my words to be understood by people like that#i would too#scheduled to post in the morning bc Wuh oh sleep schedule’s fucked
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MATHIAS SHAW'S HOME
Very few know where it is. It's very well hidden in one of the many nooks and crannies of Stormwind, only accessible if you know what specific shortcuts to take. So hidden, that some agents speculate whether he just lives in his office.
Those who do know: Renzik, Elling Trias, and the Wrynns ( it does not matter how much shaw serves turalyon, that bastard will not get personal shaw detail rights ) — these are the only people who have the privilege of sending things directly to his house, with Renzik being the only person allowed to physically show up at his house ( technically, the wrynns are too, but the likelihood of that happening is so very low he doesn't consider it. when the wrynns need him, HE goes to THEM )
This is not the same house he grew up in ( that house is long gone, after the ransacking of stormwind ), nor is it the same house he almost raised a family in ( after separating from edwin, pathonia and her favored assassins came in and emptied the house for him, all but dismantled it board by board so there was nothing left for him to lament over ). It's a one bedroom, basic little house with a second floor for an office and training space, and a yard for him to do what he pleases. It was commissioned shortly after he was coronated Spymaster.
To get there, it takes some weaving between the various ivory towers that border Old Town. Once you've found the correct opening — careful, it's a narrow squeeze, much easier to reach if you're shorter in stature — hug the wall and follow the path until your feet reach cobblestone. An opening appears; a humble grassy area, nestled nicely between ivory walls and unsuspecting buildings. Isolated. Protected. Plants line the sides of the cobblestone path leading to his front door ( on the left are plants often used in poisonous concoctions favored by rogues ; on the right are herbs often used in cooking and remedies ).
It's of your average Stormwinder architectural make. Nothing special. Some stones are arranged on its side in uneven layers; a closer inspection would yield the assumption that these are done on purpose, specifically, so Shaw may climb and scale the house to the roof with ease ( he likes to perch, to be above it all )
Entering the house, you are struck with the immediate scent of cinnamon and bay leaf tea. Often the house is cold; Shaw does not spend much time here, and has to nurse the fireplace. The living room is strikingly well furnished. Nearly everything is vintage; the rugs bear intricate patterns, the couches just as patterned, throw pillows with beautiful golden embroidery everywhere, throw blankets of various designs covering each couch and seat. The chandelier is an old fashioned make of candles. The picture frames are also old fashioned, each bearing various paintings of landscapes across Azeroth. There is a large piano at the side of the room, and the fireplace is bordered with stones and plants. A large book case is propped against the wall; a glimpse at the kitchen, and there is a table with one chair, the table cloth also bearing the same embroidered make. The entire living room is old fashioned.
It looks well kept, well decorated at first glance, doesn't it? But if you look carefully, you'll notice it's chaos; none of the couches and seats match. All of them divorced from their proper sets. The pillows and covers do not match in set either, each of different colors and different make. Every fashioned candle holder is different in color and make and date. The piano is dusty. It hasn't been touched in years ( mathias doesn't play piano. pathonia did. ). The rug does nothing to compliment any of the furniture or the color schemes happening; in fact, it runs a little too short than what an interior decorator would recommend for its placement. The bookcase has a broken leg, and is propped up by two textbooks about poisons.
The house is decorated by a man who knows nothing of the sort.
The thing is; he didn't choose any of these. Not really. These gaudy, embroidered, old fashioned, vintage, dark-academia-cottagecore-esque furnishings all used to belong to Pathonia. When she passed, she had a grotesque amount of belongings and no place to put them. What's in his house now are the things he handpicked from her stuff and shoved into his living room. Favorite pillows, favorite seats, favorite candles — so yeah, nothing really matches. The sheer clutter of it all makes it look like the house is well decorated, but it's an illusion. It's all just noise.
Aside from the chaos, he at least keeps the place well cleaned and organized.
Look to the walls, though. The staircase, even. All the wooden doorways, and the wooden railings of the staircase have been whittled and carved and sculpted into. On the doorways, unfinished carvings of flocks of birds. Eagles whittled in the railings, trailing up halfway before disappearing into unfinished shreds. Aimless. The carvings of birds overlap each other, as if the carver had run out of space and simply decided to carve more on top of what was already there. Even the coffee table has been whittled at its legs, though it looks to have been abandoned since one leg became uneven. All of it done by a man who seemed to have gotten bored, and took a knife without care or regard and just began cutting into every corner of the house he could get his hands on.
Everything in his kitchen is well organized and labeled clearly. Color coded. He has a gaudy old teapot that's seen better days. The utensils all come from different sets. When he has time, he cooks for himself. He likes those days. He doesn't always have time.
Upstairs, the decorations get a little less gaudy. He's running out of all the pillows and cloths and tapestries and candles to put up. His office is mostly bare, save for several potted succulents and another bookshelf ( this one, less dusty than the living room one ; he actually reads these books ). His bedroom is the plainest. A full size bed, white sheets, blue blankets. Two humble pillows. Generic nightstand. Generic wardrobe. His normal clothes that aren't armored leathers, uniforms, stealth gear, tactical gear, belts and satchels filled with weapons, have an autumn feel to them. Browns, olives, greys and dark blues. He favors turtlenecks and khakis and big coats.
Room decor is bare. There is a small, small framed picture ( yes, one of those old, gaudy ones from dear old patty ) of an old sketch of a little girl with charcoal black hair. No more than five years old. It's Shaw's drawing, unfinished, but all the important details are there. Her little smile. Her big cheeks. Her little bandana. A sketch is all he has; cameras didn't really come around until Year 28 after all. It's all he has of Ness.
This is Shaw's house. He doesn't spend too much time here. When it rains, he keeps all the curtains open to watch it. He sleeps on the couches more often than not. He carves on the wood when he gets antsy. And if he's lucky, he'll hear a meow outside, and find the tortoise shell stray cat he dubbed Tea Kettle that he likes to feed now and then. Sometimes he lets it inside. He can't have pets. She can't stay. He can't give her a home. But he still feeds her. And sometimes, she sleeps on one of the ugly throw pillows beside him on the couch.
#si report: meta#si report: headcanon#profile: intel#location: mathias' house#( i've been sitting on this headcanon for so long like tbh it was the moment i thought of THIS )#( that i decided to come back to rping shaw )#( and then i just KEPT FORGETTING TO ACTUALLY *WRITE* IT LMAOOO )#( anyways. i like to think about what a house for a guy like THis looks like. and it looks like this. )#( his living room just looks like a GRANDMA'S HOUSE )#( the kitchen too )#( you look at this place for longer than a minute and you're like ''oh. oh so this guy's CRAZY. ok got it.'' )#preemptive strike ; queue
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Man and Superman is one of those works where I kinda feel like it was just made for me to enjoy, and I think the most significant example of this is that not just do I love all the characters and their roles in the story, but it has characters based on almost all of the DG characters I like (as main characters, nonetheless!) and none of the characters or subplots I don't care about.
#jack tanner i love you forever. tavy robinson i love you forever. ANN WHITFIELD!!!! I LOVE YOU FOREVER!!!!#oh and leporello is there too!! and the commendatore!#no other characters from dg#sorry elvira fans#no zerlina or masetto either. although those three don't really fit into the plot bc jack isn't really don giovanni is he#i love how it subverts the roles of these characters in the original#very fun very cool thanks bernard shaw#anyway if you like don giovanni you should read man and superman it would be fun#operaposting#man and superman
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actually I'm not done. Was 2022 a uniquely bad year for music??????? because I didn't think so! But looking at these wins????? It sure looks like it. Well actually it probably looks like this every year and I probably have made these exact grumpy posts before but WHATEVER!!!!
#I don't even like unholy but good on Kim petras Sam Smith for the win ig only good thing in this wave of godawful choices#Oh and the Caroline Shaw win cuz I like her#Sorry for hating on wet leg I will do it ahain#Ok gemini rights I say is a reasonable win too even tho it's not a personal fav#Sorry im in a mood or something#Like how much did Columbia pay for these hstyles wins lmao
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Talk about Tessa (pre-betrayal) and talk about Sage (post betrayal)
(PLEASE LOOK AT THESE AMAZING BANNERS @the-blackened-dove MADE FOR ME) TESSA "The damned best thing that's happened to me besides. . .well, besides Lourdes. It's not simply that she saved my life in Afghanistan; the advice she gave me to stay my course instead of joining Xavier's side was invaluable, and all her advice since has been as well. I don't always follow it, of course---one's one decider must be oneself in the end---but I respect no source more. She is a precious asset, and I provide for her accordingly with whatever she needs; I appreciate that she has yet to exploit this. Many have likened her to a robot, and while I believe they mean this as an insult, I see it as a compliment; computers are precise, unhindered by emotions or their own ideas of morality, and simply do as you ask. I've never had cause for anger or grievance with her, not even once. Even when my endeavors were failures, her part in them was not." SAGE "Who? No, really. I'm not tryng to be facetious or funny. I realize I truly have no idea who that woman is. I tried to get her to be Tessa once by force, and then was foolish enough to accept when she offered to do so willingly, blinded by hope. I paid the price for that, as I should. I really can't say much about her. I suppose however clever and ruthless I thought Tessa to be, Sage is more by far. It does make me wish I held her service still---but I'll never be fool enough to attempt or accept it again. As I said before---like trusting a scorpion. I abandoned Tessa to Bogan, I grant---perhaps I had a plan to rescue her without paying the ransom, perhaps I simply cut my losses, I'll never say because it doesn't matter---and if she had turned on me for that....that I would understand. I couldn't begrudge it, it would only be sensible. But that wasn't it. It was that Tessa was never real in the first place; there was only ever Sage." @emmatriarchy
#Shaw that was not the advice she gave you#she just said you'd be rich if you didn't take Xavier's path#anyway a thought I've had a lot is that it would make a lot of sense if Shaw intended to rescue Tessa himself#rather than have to choose between her and his fortune#and Storm just got there first#but Claremont never has him say or imply this and I'd think he'd bring it up in trying to win her back#and tbh it seems to me an idea that lets him off the hook too easy#like sayng oh he didn't REALLY leave her to Bogan he had a PLAN#like#I don't like retconning things to make chars look better even chars I like#at the same time it does seem sensible#so I go with him just saying#what if I did#but never clarifying if he actually did or not#never claiming it#leaving it ambiguous#bc as he said#it really doesn't matter#emmatriarchy
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One day im gonna be in a PM seymour video and hes gonna be like "heres Alex. He named his One And Only OC (which is a self insert to the point that his lore is "self insert") after him. He claimed dr bright and betty glitchtale after he heard what their authors did. Pretty sure he has an army of transgender tweens/teens who probably know guns more than they know maths. For some reason hes shaped like an alternate but he purrs like a cat. 90% sure the only reason he wants to learn about computers is so he can delete all the money off accounts of problematic people. Hes very nice but yeah if it wasnt for his parents teachings he would have already killed someone in a comically gruesome way."
And i genuinely have no idea wtf to do with that
#and thats excluding my#welcome to the multiverse#thing#like seriously we have#cyana going OOC whenever i try to talk to her by swearing up a fucking malestrom#Director House from SCP (aka rounderhouse) being the CEO of hell#<- and also that whole “the only devil that can still be called such with a big The is the one from hazbin hotel” thing but whatever#then we have to talk about all the shit on the moon#gabriel ultrakill and gabriel tmc being the same guy and also friends with FUCKING MERU THE SUCCUBUS BECAUSE BOTH OF EM R BOREÐ#not to mention the whole “belowstory” thing which started as The Strongest Sans That Isnt A Mary Sue But Is Also Horror And Creepy#and deevolved into “you thought HELP_TALE was fucked up? oh you sweet summer child.”#and lets not talk about the whole SCP Shitfest of Cringe Parodization#like- 2317 doesnt want to be the bad guy? 166 and 239 are dating because they're close in age?? BRIGHT AND SHAW COEXISTING?????????#yeah look#pm seymour#if you read this#keep the ibuprofen close#and dont ask too much about the whole “manager of Gay Shit (even tho im straight)” thing.#like yeah i get to be near cute tgirls but... thats it?????? i guess????????#i mean i give em their meds and hormones cause i wanna help and-#(insert miscellaneous unhearable yapping)#(possibly about geopolitics)
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•°. *࿐ HIDDEN PLEASURE
pairing: professor!rafe x reader warnings: oral (m receiving), slight exhibitionism, 18+ mdni word count: 679 a/n: requested by @nemesyaaa
“Oh fuck…” he heavily breathed out, your hands running up his thighs to his bulge, palming him through his slacks. Rafe looked down at you and couldn’t help but notice how pretty you looked, your thick lashes fluttering at him and lips glistening with lipgloss.
You pop the button of his slacks, his hips lifting from the chair to let you pull his slacks and boxers down. You pull a moan from him when your hand grips his length. You didn’t waste any time, licking a stripe from the bottom of his base to the head, swirling your tongue before wrapping your lips around him.
He’s watching as you take more of him into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head up and down. “Goddamn” he moans when your lips suction around him, the lipgloss adorning your plump lips creating nothing but a sticky mess.
He heard footsteps approaching, “Shit” he cursed, pulling your head back, his cock slipping from your mouth the second the door swung open as his students filed into the room.
He was thankful his students couldn’t see a thing, his desk covering him from the waist up, his slacks pooling around his ankles, and more importantly, hiding the fact you were under his desk.
As his students were distracted, scrambling to find their seats, he looked down at you, holding his pointer finger to his lip to let you know not to make any sudden noises. You huffed, nodding because you knew you had to stay under his desk until his lecture was over.
Luckily for him, he planned ahead of time to give an exam today which meant he wasn’t required to get out of his seat. As he went over the rules and procedures, you couldn’t help but notice he was still hard, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as an idea popped into your head.
As soon as his students grabbed a test from the empty teaching assistant’s desk and started, you wasted no time scooting closer to him, wrapping your hand back around his thick shaft. Rafe didn’t have a chance to process what you were doing as you dipped your head down to circle your tongue around his tip before your lips envelope around his head, sucking softly.
“Fuck, baby” he mutters under his breath, eyes flickering to look at you between his muscular thighs, fingers digging into the roots of your hair. You push your head further down, earning a groan from him and he quickly covers it by clearing his throat when he notices his students looking over at him. He had to keep his eyes on the class to ensure they weren’t cheating but it was getting difficult for him not to want to look down to watch you sucking him off.
He rests his chin on his hand, covering his mouth to stifle his small groans of pleasure when he feels the back of your throat hitting at his tip. Your cheeks hollow around him, slowly bobbing your head up and down while your hand pumps at his base. “Shit…just like that, sweetheart” he whispered and you hum in response to his praises, sending vibrations up his spine.
Rafe leans back into his chair, groaning softly when he looks down at you to see you looking up at him through your thick lashes, “You’re fuckin’ killing me, sweetheart” he mutters under his breath, low enough for you to hear. His grip on your hair tightens, pushing and pulling your head along his dick, your saliva coating him entirely, “Look at you, drooling all over my dick”.
His students were too focused on their exams to notice but the thought of getting caught and the way your mouth felt around him had his abs constricting as he was close to busting in your mouth, “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum”.
You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, his large hand pushing your head down, holding you there as he comes undone, thick ropes of cum spill down your throat.
tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @sturnioloshacker @heartsforvin @fae-of-prey @rafesthroatbaby @hallecarey1 @chimindity @shawtycoreee @drewstarkeys-world @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @starkeyisthelastname @hyperfixationgirl @emilysuperswag @flvredcas @rafeinterlude @rafecameroninterlude @spid6y @juniebugg @blckbrrybasket @wearemadeofstardust0 @spacexdrago @honeybunniesoobin @slumnit
#𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀𝓈 ༉‧₊˚.#professor!rafe cameron#professor!rafe x reader#professor!rafe smut#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe smut#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe fic#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble
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Doctor Who companions summarised in ten words or less (classic edition)
Susan Foreman: Gallifreyan teenager abandoned on post-apocolyptic earth because love.
Ian Chesterton and Barbara Wright: Married schoolteachers educate grumpy alien about morality.
Vicki Pallister: New granddaughter acquired!
Steven Taylor: Future Blue Peter presenter enjoys double act with adoptive sisters.
Katarina: She's lovely- oh, wait, now she's dead.
Sara Kingdom: She's cool- oh, wait, now she's dead.
Dodo Chaplet: Northerner loses accent due to BBC classism, more at ten.
Ben Jackson and Polly Wright: Opposites attract couple near-immediately overshadowed by new companion.
Jamie McCrimmon: Himbo highlander as gay as sixties television will allow.
Victoria Waterfield: Nineteenth century teenager has worst week of her life.
Zoe Heriot: Master martial artist knows one (1) throw.
Liz Shaw: Scientist is too competent for this nonsense.
Jo Grant: Cinnimon roll has no self-preservation instinct.
Sarah-Jane Smith: Feminist journalist surrounded by idiotic military men.
Harry Sullivan: Otherwise-sensible medical professional becomes world's biggest imbecile.
Leela of the Sevateem: Knife lady kicks ass, takes names.
K9: Robotic dog malfunctions for ninety minutes.
Romana: Sheltered Gallifreyan has surprisingly good fashion.
Adric: Math kid go boom!
Tegan Jovanka and Nyssa Of Traken: Hypercompetent space girlfriends have unintentional homoerotic subtext.
Vislor Turlough: Universes most incompetent assassin accidentally becomes friends with intended target.
Kamelion: BBC producer gets tricked into buying cursed prop.
Peri Brown: Dubiously-accented botanist struggles with sexism and BBC wardrobe department.
Mel Bush: Health nut weaponises volume of scream.
Ace McShane: Awesome butch bisexual pyromaniac hits things with baseball bat.
#doctor who#susan foreman#barbara wright#ian chesterton#vicki pallister#steven taylor#katarina#sara kingdom#dodo chaplet#polly wright#ben jackson#jamie mccrimmon#victoria waterfield#zoe heriot#liz shaw#jo grant#sarah jane smith#harry sullivan#leela#k9#romana#adric#tegan jovanka#nyssa#nyssa of traken#vislor turlough#peri brown#mel bush#kamelion#ace mcshane
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A Line and a Half
Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: When Dory’s eldest brother comes to visit her at Wyoming University, you don’t know quite what to make of Russell Shaw. But he knows exactly what he wants to make of you.
AN: Okay, here’s my first toe-dip into the world of Tracker with Russell Shaw! 1x12 gave me too many ideas not to explore this intriguing character. This is set before episode 12, but I have a little series I want to sketch out that will continue after this one-shot, so think of this as a “Part 1,” if you will. 😉
Word Count: 3.2K
Tags/Warnings: A kind of “meet cute,” attempts at flirting, and hints of setup for more to come…
You watched, silently simmering, as Dr. Goldstein added yet another packet of internship applications from his graduate students onto your desk.
Applicants that he, as the History Department Chairman, was supposed to review himself. Instead, he’d been adding these hours quite literally onto your desk.
“If you could review these for me as well, sweetheart. Thank you,” he said. “Get ‘em back to me by Thursday, okay?”
As a Professor of History with two doctorates in your name, you once again grated internally at sweetheart, but you tried to keep that cringe off your face as well.
Goldstein barely even met your eyes when he dropped off his burden, and then aimed to leave your office.
“Uh, Paul,” you called out, raising a finger. You stood from your desk as quickly as you could in your pencil skirt, but the man was already out the door. You followed him out, your heels clacking on the tile floor.
Damn it. Knew I should’ve gone with pants, you said, continuing to hasten after your boss.
“Paul! Just a second,” you said. That finally managed to turn the man’s head off of his phone. He glanced at you while checking his watch.
“About the internship applications…and your midterm exam essays for that matter. Don’t you think—” you started to say, but the man spoke over you.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to run. Meeting my massage therapist at noon,” he said, and rolled a seemingly stiff shoulder under his tailored blazer. “Something’s just not right here after my trip to Cali last weekend. I don’t know what I did, pulled muscle or something. But hey, they do say parasailing is a sport.”
You quirked a brow. “Do they?”
You weren’t sure that being strapped into a parachute for a nice air glide over the Pacific counted as a sport.
Goldstein shrugged at your question and he kept walking down the hall. Though he turned back to toss you a pointed finger.
“Need those by Thursday. Thanks, you’re the best,” he said.
You watched him go, as proverbial steam began to escape through your ears. Slowly you pivoted on your heels, and you went back to your office. You grimaced at the large stack of applications. You were pretty sure he padded them with an extra section of midterm exams.
Tapping your nails on your desk, you grabbed your phone next to your desktop and checked the time. 11:30 a.m.
Screw it. I’m going to lunch, you thought.
Dory had to be out of her Intro Physics class by now, which meant she’d be in her office, ready for you to drop in on her a little early. You took up your purse and almost made it out the door…but at the last moment, your anal brain made you turn back to grab a shoulder bag and the pile of applications. Maybe you could knock out a few during lunch.
Friggin’ doormat, as your brother would say. Laughing at you, probably.
You rolled your eyes and headed back out the door with your haul of papers, purse, work bag, and keys, locking your office behind you.
Why, oh why did the Sciences building have to be on the other side of campus?
It was damn near a mile walk from your Humanities building over to Dory’s office on the second floor. Your hands were laden with packets that couldn’t be contained by your heavy work bag, your purse was slipping off your shoulder, and these heels were killing your feet.
It was a miracle you and Dory had ever met on this campus. On your first day of teaching, you’d of course been hopelessly lost. Somehow you ended up at the tail-end of one of her classes in one of the science auditoriums.
She’d been gracious enough to help you, and even walked you all the way to the Humanities building so you could find your World History class before the students decided to just get up and leave. (And after fifteen minutes, they very well would.)
That day, she became your first real friend at Wyoming University. In the three years since, she’d become your best friend.
And now, her door was mercifully open halfway. You pushed it open and stumbled just a little from the transition of tile to carpet inside her office. Your papers nearly flew from your hands, so you struggled to right yourself and contain them all back into the semblance of neatness.
“Hey, girl. You better be ready for lunch because Jesus fucking Christ. Goldstein’s up my ass again and all I’ve had today is a crusty donut from the teacher’s lounge, which I’m pretty sure was stale,” you said, with your brows furrowed in frustration.
When you finally looked up from your struggles, you realized that Dory wasn’t alone. She smiled at you in amusement, sitting at her desk beside a man who made you pause. Your eyes widened.
He was leaning casually with an elbow propped up on her desk, dressed in jeans and a worn, pale green jacket—a good match for his eyes. He looked a little rugged for Dory’s tastes, but you couldn’t fault her, with the cut of that bearded jaw, and the smile raising the corners of his lips.
“Hey,” Dory laughed. “I see you’re having a good day.”
You bit your lip in embarrassment, probably smudging your lipstick.
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve knocked first,” you said, though you could see she seemed to be having an actual good day. Office picnic? Or maybe the handsome stranger was getting ready to take her out.
Dory just waved you in. She stood and set a hand on her companion’s shoulder, and he got up along with her.
“It’s okay. This is my brother, Russell,” she said, and she introduced you in kind.
“Well, hi there,” he said. He subtly took you in with his eyes as he held out his hand. Already you felt your face heating up with more than just embarrassment.
You were a bit shocked as well, to say the least. Dory had told you some…interesting things about her family, including the fact that she had two older brothers. You wondered which one this was, the middle child, or the eldest.
“Hi! Sorry. Again. Nice to meet you,” you said. You tried to hold your hand out to reach his, but a few papers began to spill out. You clutched at them on reflex, but Russell drew in quickly to help you.
“Got yourself a load there,” he said. You agreed with an awkward laugh and a shrug of your shoulders.
“My boss’s idea of extra credit,” you said wryly.
“You can set it down on that chair over there,” Dory said, pointing to one against the back wall, next to a tall filing cabinet.
You and Russell meandered over and managed to set down the stack without casualty. You were able to pull up the straps of your bag and your purse from falling off your shoulder and give him a grateful look.
“Thanks,” you said.
“No problem,” he said, giving you an easy smile back. “I actually crashed in unannounced, so if you two wanna to head to lunch, you go right ahead.”
“Uh, no. I haven’t seen you in months! You should come with us,” Dory said. She grabbed her purse to join you and Russell by the door.
You raised your hands in placation. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, especially if it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. You guys should catch up.”
Dory shook her head and grabbed your hand.
“Uh, uh. I want to hear the latest on Paul’s bullshit, and why you’re carrying half your office across campus. Let’s go,” she said, and gestured at your work bag. “Leave that here. You’re gonna eat and talk to me. No working involved.”
You laughed, but you agreed to her cajoling. With another glance at her brother, and those green eyes that seemed to be dancing, you joined them for lunch.
The three of you ended up at a diner that you and Dory frequented at least once a week. The food was good, the service was quick, and it was close to campus. Wins all around. Russell seemed to be enjoying himself, as he hummed in delight after the very first bite of his Philly cheesesteak.
“Sriracha on fries, huh?” you remarked, gesturing at the man’s plate. Your brow was quirked, but he shot you a smile.
“I said avert your eyes,” he teased. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sweetheart.”
Ugh. Another sweethearting man. You narrowed your own eyes at him a bit. He caught the look and raised a hand in defense (the one that wasn’t holding his cheesesteak).
“Uh oh. What’d I do?” he asked.
“You gave her some PTSD,” Dory said with a laugh. “Dr. Goldstein likes to sugar coat his demands with sexism.”
Russell noted your souring look with apology. You’d just finished recounting your morning for your friend, and recapping years of “sugar-coated demands” for Russell.
“Why don’t you just tell him to cram it up his…uh…” he paused. Seeing his little sister’s look of amusement, he amended. “Or you know, stuff it.”
A smile twitched at your lips. “Oh, believe me, I’d love to tell him to stuff it. But he’s technically my boss, and the department chair. Even though I’ve basically been doing his job for two years now.”
“Well, that sucks,” Russell said. “And I feel for ya. I’ve had my share of shitty bosses in my time.”
You sighed and accepted his commiseration with a nod.
It wasn’t fair, but Goldstein planned to retire early in a few years. Must be nice.
When he did, it would make you the most likely candidate to replace him as department chair. The way you saw it, this was giving you plenty of practice before you (hopefully) inherited the position.
Anyway, you shook your head. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You were more curious about one Russell Shaw. You now knew he was an army vet, and he carried himself like one. Calm, controlled, even though his smiles came easy. His tousled hair and beard, while well-trimmed and neat, still gave him a roguish quality.
“So let me guess. You’re…the eldest?” you asked. You blotted at your mouth with a napkin, having finished your chicken panini.
Russell treated you to another one of those smiles, though this one held a hint of more.
“Guilty. Though I’m the handsome one,” he said with a wink.
You found yourself smiling behind your napkin.
“I’m sure,” you replied.
Dory rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. Apparently my brother’s an incorrigible flirt.”
He chuckled and sipped at his beer, but then he grimaced.
“Ech. Friggin’ weak,” he said. “I brew better than this outta the trunk of my car.”
You raised a brow at that. “You make your own beer?”
“Damn straight,” he said. His gaze turned a hint more playful. “Next time I’ll bring you some. You can tell me what you think.”
You shared a telling look with Dory.
“Next time, huh?” you asked.
“Sure,” he inclined his head. “I pop into town from time to time. Gotta check in and pester my little sister, the physics professor.”
He laid a hand on Dory’s shoulder, squeezing warmly. You could see the pride in his eyes, and it warmed you as well.
She turned to him with a smile, reaching up to cover his hand with hers.
“You don’t pester me. I’d love it if I got to see you more often,” she said.
“Ah, I know, I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her. “My job’s got me all over the place. But I’ll be here for a week or so on this gig.”
That intrigued you. “What do you do for work?”
“Ah, well, you could say I'm a contractor. Private security mainly,” said Russell. His shoulders shifted as he became a little more guarded, you noticed. “My company connects me with the client for as long as the job lasts. Could be a few months, sometimes a few days, depending.”
“Oh, wow. Do you live here in Wyoming?” you asked. He paused, but tilted his head a little, back and forth as he considered your question.
“I kinda bounce around,” he said. “Just go from one job to the next. Sounds a bit unorthodox, I know, but it’s a living.”
“Interesting,” you nodded, but inside, you thought that sounded like a hard way to live.
Unstable…and lonely.
“You know, it’s amazing how much you and Colter have in common,” Dory said. She folded her hands on the table and met her brother with a pointed look.
He huffed in response, though he glanced at you, then back at his sister. As if he was saying, You really want to do this now?
Dory had told you before that Colter was a “rewardist,” or some kind of bounty hunter. The nature of his work kept him busy, and seemingly too busy for his sister. But you also sensed there was an edgier history here.
For the first time, you felt like you were intruding in a moment between brother and sister that went beyond words.
After a moment, Russell shook his head.
“Look, I tried with him, all right? He won’t talk to me,” he said. He went back to eating, polishing off his fries. He offered you one that was half-smothered in sriracha.
“Come on. Live on the edge with me,” he teased.
You eyed the sauce-covered fry in distaste, but after glancing up at his more playful smile, you accepted his offer. You chewed in contemplation, and found that the tangy hint of kick wasn’t so bad.
“Eh? Eeeh? Delicious, am I right?” he said, his hands going wide.
You rolled your eyes, but you nodded in agreement.
“It’s all right,” you replied.
“Yes!” Russell’s hands swept up higher, like he was celebrating a touchdown. "See, I told ya."
You couldn’t help but laugh. Dory shook her head fondly and gave him a clean napkin for the bit of schmutz she spotted at the corner of his mouth.
“Here, wipe your sriracha face.”
“You really don’t have to,” you said, as Russell helped you gather your stack of papers and slung your work bag over his shoulder.
“No, no. I’m a bonafide gentleman. Ain’t that right, D?” he asked his sister. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, but she did give you a knowing smile.
“Oh, his intentions are pure,” she said.
And by that, you both understood her meaning. His intentions couldn’t be any clearer than a mallet over the head, but you kind of found it endearing.
This man really carried your stuff from the Sciences building across the entire campus to your office. All the while, he asked you about how you and Dory met, the kinds of things you two did together, and if you thought she was happy working here.
You had a feeling he was trying to learn more about his sister’s life. On one hand, it was rather sweet. On the other, it made you realize that there was distance in this family, both literal and figurative. You were glad to hear that Russell, at least, was trying to bridge that gap with his sister. Dory deserved to have more of that in her life.
As you explained to Russell while you led him down the hall to your office, your friendship with her had just…clicked. From the very beginning.
“Dory, you know. She’s more than kind,” you said. “She’s a real one. I can rely on her, even when I can’t rely on my own family.”
Russell hummed at that. “That sounds like a story.”
“Yeah,” you said, glancing away for a moment. You smiled and met his gaze once more. “Maybe one for another time.”
“So you’re on board with a ‘next time.’ Good to know,” Russell remarked. Your smile deepened.
It was good timing when you two finally reached your office. You unlocked it and let him inside, so he could set down your bag, and the god-forsaken stack of internship applications back onto your desk. You’d probably be stuck here working late on those.
“Well, thank you so much. You really didn’t have to schlep for me,” you said.
When you turned, Russell was a bit close. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make a trill of something zip up your spine. You smelled more intensely his cologne, woodsy and warm. Looking up at him, you once again found his smile.
“It’s no problem,” he said, but his eyes met yours for a moment, as if he lost his train of thought.
“What?” you asked, a bit nervous.
“Anybody ever tell you, you got soulful eyes?” he asked.
It took your brain a second or two to compute, but when his words registered, you had to laugh. You held it behind your hand, while the other went to steady yourself on your desk.
“Well, that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” you said, shading your “soulful” eyes with a hand.
You didn’t know it, but Russell’s face warmed in slight embarrassment. He recovered though, taking in your pretty laugh, and the shade of your hair, let loose around your shoulders, and yes, your eyes, when you let him see them again.
If he hadn’t known before, now he was convinced.
He wanted to see more of you before he left town.
“Hey, now that was 100% genuine,” Russell said, but his grin spoke volumes. When your mirth died down, he scratched the back of his head.
“Okay, cards on the table. Would you be interested in grabbing a drink with me sometime?” he asked.
You took in a breath at that. You actually did consider his offer, because homebrew and sriracha fries be damned, there was something more to him. It was lying in wait, behind those eyes that were drawing you in.
However, this was also a man whose job basically made him a nomad. It didn’t exactly scream relationship material.
Which only left the alternative: something…casual.
You just didn’t know if that alternative was such a good idea. Not with your best friend’s brother.
“Just a drink. No frills, no more grilling you about my sister,” Russell said, breaking you from your deliberation. He gestured a hand between the two of you. “Just this. You and me.”
Eventually, you sighed. Your lips raised into a more genuine smile.
“Sometime, huh?” you asked.
He smiled back. “Tonight?”
You hesitated, but despite your better judgment, you nodded before you could change your mind. You still weren’t sure what to make of this guy, but you were willing to find out.
“Sure,” you said. “Howley’s at eight?”
“Well, all right,” Russell said.
He surprised you by sweeping up your hand into his. You looked up at him, curious, but not wary. Anticipation tingled down your spine.
He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. Soft shock made your eyes widen as you blushed, feeling the subtle graze of his beard against your skin.
Who is this guy, Cary Grant? you thought.
But when he pulled away, you had to remind yourself to breathe. Again, you caught sight of his cheeky grin.
“See you tonight,” he said.
AN: He is beauty he is grace, he is Mr. Sriracha Face. 😆
Let me know if you guys liked this! 💜 It's my first time writing a character based solely on one episode, but next up is a series that will continue this one-shot. It's called Every Second Counts.
Next Time in Part 1:
“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips.
You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still on the Wyoming University campus after your last class.
Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.
“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.
▶️ Keep Reading: Part 1
Ko-Fi Me ☕
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#A Line and a Half#russell shaw#tracker#russell shaw x reader#russell shaw x female reader#russell shaw x you#russell shaw fanfiction#russell shaw fanfic#dory shaw#colter shaw#jensen ackles#jensen ackles characters#tracker fanfiction#tracker cbs#russell shaw series#tracker series#zepskies writes
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blood and glitter ➛ a sienna shaw x fem!reader oneshot
pairing(s): sienna shaw x fem!reader
summary: sienna shaw is an enigma with wings and a sword, destined. oh, she’s also your friend who you may or may not be a little in love with…
tags ~> fem!reader, fluff, smut, romance, friends to lovers, explicit sexual content, explicit language, no mentions of art the clown/any deaths, not really canon tbh, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering, scissoring, praise kink, d/s undertones, gay panic, awkward romance
warnings!: nsfw, pretty graphic smut, explicit language
word count: 11.3k+
a/n: this is my first ever time posting any writing of mine on here so i hope you all enjoy, i’m also going to be posting this to ao3 if you guys ever read stuff on there :) i’m currently experiencing terrifier 3 brain rot especially because of sienna so i need to write this to get it out of my system cus DAMN.
i've tried to make the reader's character not super specfiic as to be as inclusive as possible - the only things described physically is that the reader has female anatomy
The steps that led up towards Sienna’s bedroom looked a little menacing as you stood at their bottom. It felt like you were about to enter a whole other private world you previously had never had access to. The situation was strange, not strange in nature, but because of the fact that although you and the other girl had been friends for months, you still had yet to step foot inside her bedroom.
You had been to her house before, especially when Allie and Brooke wanted to hang out too but had never been in her bedroom. The upstairs of her house was uncharted territory.
But it was normal right? It was completely normal, you were just a friend visiting another friend’s house, about to enter their bedroom so the two of you could get ready for a Halloween party. Every teen movie had this exact moment of calm where the characters could have dialogue and bond a little before moving onto the last big final act.
Sienna wasn’t just your friend though, to you she was something more. You didn’t want to just be her friend.
You had known she was special ever since she had waved you over one near summer afternoon to her lunch table and had complimented you on the iron-on patches that were littered across your jacket. The two young women sitting with her had looked a little confused when she started rambling on about Daft Punk and French Police (the band, not the law enforcement), but you had understood.
Like a puzzle, you two had fit perfectly together, two pieces clicking into place.
At first the fluttery feeling that bombarded your stomach at the thought of her was mistaken as relief. Platonic affection, and slightly pathetic gratitude that finally you didn’t have to sit alone at lunch. That you would now have some people you actually knew.
But once the four of you had begun to hang out, even though you and Allie got close fast, and Brooke at least tolerated your presence, your ever-growing bond with Sienna was different.
That bond, the thing you had labelled as different, should’ve made it easy for you to climb the stairs and waltz into the bedroom like it was yours. Instead, it had your feet glued to the floor. Barbara, Sienna’s mother and the one who had let you in, finally noticed your hesitation.
The woman didn’t seem to find it strange, simply chuckling and gesturing for you to go up. “She is expecting you honey, don’t worry.”
Simply giving her a smile to try and seem relaxed only aided in making you look more nauseous. And to save yourself further embarrassment in the company of your new friend’s mom, you went upstairs. A few of the room doors were opened, but instantly looking within the second one you knew it was Sienna’s.
The room faintly glowed with dim lamp light, and the walls were covered in posters and pieces of art that were sure to have been done by the brunette herself. Every time you had the pleasure of being shown something she had created it always managed to take your breath away. You yourself weren’t exactly terrible when it came to a pencil and pad, but your talent laid more in academics than anything truly creative.
Sienna had actually offered to teach you how to draw one evening after you had caught a glimpse of her notepad; design sketches for costumes and makeup looks covering the pages. The temptation of spending more time with her outside of classes and lunch break had won you over. So far, with her help, you now knew how to draw something reminiscent of a detailed cat. Nothing Picasso-like, but it was a start.
One of the things on her wall that caught your eye was a neon white LED light in the shape of a skull. It showcased there was something a little morbid about the beauty of Sienna’s aesthetic too. Both of you had bonded over your love for all things morbid and you regularly had horror movie nights – sometimes with Allie and Brooke. Most of the time it was just the two of you though, the way you preferred it.
“Hey” the young woman had noticed you standing in the doorway and got off the bed to greet you.
Holy. Shit.
She had messaged you pictures of the costume she had created throughout the months, showing you the tiresome but fulfilling process of how it came to be. But none of them had been of her actually wearing it. You subtly tried to grab onto the doorframe, so you didn’t fall over flat on your face.
The Valkyrie armour your friend had adorned was a shiny bronze, and the intricate details of everything needed a few looks to really sink in. It wasn’t only the outfit itself that was making your heart palpitate; half of her hair was down, and the other half was sorted neatly into pretty braids.
The realisation she had actually made all this herself added another extra reason to your speechlessness – the main fact being though that she looked like something out of a fantasy nerd’s wet dream. But in a good way, definitely in a good way.
“Wow…” was all you could say, making her laugh and spin around so you could see the back of her costume. The two majestic wings sprouting out of her back seemed ironic then as you were almost sure she was an angel.
“What’d you think?” Sienna asked, turning back around so she could gauge your reaction. Not that there was much to analyse there though, you were still silent – but thankfully had managed to close your mouth. Running a hand through your hair you tried to find the words to express how ethereal she looked.
“It’s great, really great.” Way to go, loser.
Her face dropped just a little, did she think you were being insincere because your response was so short? Quite the opposite. You quickly scrambled to try and rectify your statement.
“No, like I really mean it. I-I mean the shoulder piece, the wings, it’s so detailed and pretty. And your makeup, I mean wow you look so…sparkly!” Although what you had just said embarrassed you even further, Sienna’s disappointed expression had been replaced with fondness and amusement.
“Yeah?” the cosplayer murmured, turning back to the mirror, and admiring herself for another moment. The truth was, she was extremely proud of how it had turned out, and your approval had meant a lot to her especially considering her mother’s likely disapproval when she saw what she’d be going out in. The weight of your opinion to Sienna was more than what was standard or acceptable for the average friend, even if she couldn't admit that.
You nodded. “Yeah.”
“I can’t wait to see your costume” she smiled, looking down at the backpack you had put down on the floor. The reality was setting in that you’d have to show her your costume.
Seriously, compared to Sienna’s costume, everyone else’s would be very much underwhelming – it was mean of her to assume everyone just was as talented as she was. The chic vampire look you were about to try to achieve would definitely not live up to standard, but you couldn’t spend the entire evening in her bedroom doorway.
“Can I get changed in your bathroom?”
Sienna’s head tilted a little in confusion at that, but realised you weren’t comfortable with getting undressed in front of her, so she smiled and said: “Sure, it’s the first door when you turn right, you’ll easily find it.”
Running a hand down your crisp shirt to smooth it out, you glanced at yourself in the mirror - so far you just looked a bit like a fancy Victorian aristocrat. It was agreed that the girl in the other room would help you do the special effects (and general) makeup for your costume, and you hoped that it would help elevate it to be a little more Halloweenesque.
No doubt your other two friends were doing the exact same thing right now, Allie putting a lot more effort into her costume than Brooke though.
“You ready for your makeover, Dracula?!” Sienna shouted from the other room, making you almost drop the comb you had brought with you into the sink (slicking back your hair was a harder affair than first thought).
You cleared your throat before replying. “Umm yeah hang on!” Grabbing what she’d need to transform you into a citizen of Transylvania, you walked back into the bedroom.
Standing in front of the bed, you gave her an awkward half sort of twirl. It made your cape swish around at least.
Sienna bit her lip as she tried not to laugh. “Wow, umm, it’s actually quite cool. I think the makeup will give it that extra oomph though, can’t have a vampire without fangs.” Both of you looked towards the package that contained the fake fangs. Also splayed out on the bed was a collection of makeup: eyeshadow palettes, mascaras, lip gloss, concealer – all Sienna’s, and some fake blood, glittery fake blood. You supposed that was where the chic part of your costume came in.
The armoured girl looked at you for a moment for patting a space on the bed, silently asking you to sit down so she could get started. You complied a little too quickly, feeling almost lightheaded by being in her presence and by being so close.
“Fangs or makeup first?”
You pointed to the fake, glue-on fangs a little apprehensively, hoping the glue wouldn’t fuck up your teeth.
Sienna worked quickly and efficiently, like how she did most things – you knew this because you spent admittedly quite a lot of time looking at her when she was in the middle of doing something. Brooke sometimes teased you for it, but you were pretty confident you had the others convinced your admiration for the artist was purely platonic.
“Open your mouth” the brunette instructed, you shifted on the bed a little and did as you were told. Her fingers tingled as she touched your face, tilting your head up so she could press on one of the fake fangs to your tooth, holding it until the glue stuck.
Whilst it wasn’t exactly what you had hoped for when you sometimes wished for her fingers in your mouth, it felt adrenaline-inducing all the same. You couldn’t take your eyes away from her face, even though you knew it was rude to stare, and even though you were almost certain she was aware of your staring. Sienna’s outfit and makeup was breathtaking, a homage to just how talented she was – how beautiful she was too.
The idea of her as some sort of mystic Valkyrie warrior fit, it fit perfectly and made you want to faint every time you looked at her.
“Okay, second and last one, just stay still for a moment.” The brunette applied a tiny dab of prosthetics glue to the end of the other vampire tooth before gesturing for you to open your mouth again. You did so and glanced away as she held the fake fang in place, trying not to acknowledge how flush your face was getting.
After they had been applied, and your teeth really did resemble ones of a bloodsucking creature of the night, Sienna moved on to doing your makeup.
The close proximity she had to your face was beginning to make you feel a little sweaty. The first step she took for your transformation was making you look a little more pale than usual, sickly. Not wanting to make it too obvious or campy by using face paint she instead used foundation, concealer and powder a few shades lighter than your natural skin colour.
Next came the eye makeup, Sienna dabbed very small amounts of what seemed to be eye shadow under your eyes to give the appearance of dark circles. Not that she needed much help with that, you were a bit of an insomniac.
The eyeshadow she used around your eyes was black and glittery, drawing attention to your irises. It felt weird trying not to look at the other girl when she was staring so intensely into (or rather, around) your eyes. The same thing happened when she was doing your lip gloss to quote unquote ‘draw attention to your mouth’ and subsequently, your fangs – you thought she might have been staring a little too hard.
And finally, the fake blood. Sienna had dipped the end of a very fine makeup brush in the fake crimson, tickling you slightly as she dabbed your lower lip with it. For a little extra effect, she let some run down your chin, staring a little intensely as some of it ran down your neck a little as your head was tilted back.
Trying not to take the moment as more than it was, and trying to calm your racing heart, you got off the bed to admire your friend’s handiwork in the mirror.
“Holy shit” you laughed, looking at your face from different angles. You could pass as Dracula himself if it wasn’t for the glitter in the fake blood Sienna had running down your chin. Unless he was a very campy Dracula.
“Sparkly Dracula” she commented, looking a little distracted as she assumably admired your costume. You turned around back to her and shot her a genuine smile.
“I love it, thank you.”
The girl shrugged a little and tried to brush the compliment off, but you could tell she was secretly happy to be praised. Sienna always acted humble and dismissive whenever someone complimented her artistry, but you could tell it made her feel good. She, in your opinion, should have been used to compliments by then as everything she touched turned to metaphorical gold, Halloween costumes were no different.
“Right come on” she followed you in getting off the bed and grabbing her phone as the two of you were already running late. “If we’re not there soon we’ll miss all the fun.” A part of you wanted to ask what was fun about a bunch of gross sweaty teenagers getting drunk and rubbing up on each other on a dance floor.
You’d much rather just spend the evening in her bedroom watching cheesy 80’s slasher movies and eating popcorn. But you could tell Sienna was looking forward to it, seeing it as an opportunity to blow off some steam, and held your tongue. The things you did for love.
The floor under your feet vibrated with music as the two of you tried to weave your way through the crowd to where Allie and Brooke were. You, thankfully, saw no sign of Brooke’s boyfriend (small mercies). Finally reaching the two of them, you all got a chance to admire each other’s outfits.
Neither of their costumes were as well-crafted (or as hot) as Sienna’s but both looked cute, passable for Halloween. Allie thought the glitter in your fake blood added a nice touch.
“What are you? A gay Dracula?” Brooke snorted, taking another swig of whatever was in her cup. Without knowing any better, and going by her facial expression, it looked like she was drinking straight up gasoline. At her best friend’s remark Sienna tried not to roll her eyes.
“Leave them alone, I think they look great.”
Brooke gave her a look.
“What?”
The blonde smirked, simply shaking her head as she looked around. “Nothing.” The slightly awkward moment was broken when the song changed to a favourite and Allie pulled all of you to the middle of the dance floor. A thing you had yet to mention to them was that you didn’t dance, not well at least. The idea of embarrassing yourself in front of Sienna made you want to dig a hole in the ground to crawl into.
“Come on” Sienna goaded you. Suddenly it seemed like the entire room faded away as she grabbed you by the hips and made you dance with her. Allie and Brooke and everyone else suddenly didn’t exist. The strobe lights on the ceiling made the glitter paint on Sienna’s face sparkle, her eyes equally so.
It felt like looking into a galaxy. Your heart was about to jump into your throat.
Perhaps she thought you looked silly almost frozen in the middle of the dancefloor as she started to laugh, head tilted back like an amused goddess. After a little bit of encouragement, and after the fear of looking like a socially awkward freak in front of the other girl took over, you started to dance with her. Properly this time.
A part of you didn’t want to just let go, you were hyperaware of the people all around the two of you. That was the way it had always been for you, so focused on if others were looking at you, and if they were, what they were thinking.
Surely Sienna’s carefreeness had started to rub off on you, as right then you were so tired of caring what others thought, so tired of feeling a knot in your stomach.
Everyone except Brooke and Allie seemed too drunk to even notice anything. Why did it even matter?
The two friends were near but kept their distance, almost as if they wanted to watch you and Sienna rather than dance themselves.
“Do you want a drink?” Sienna’s voice cut over the loud bass. Maybe liquid courage really was a thing. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak at that moment in time. The brunette simply grabbed your hand, goading you to spin her around a final time before she whisked off towards one of the refreshment tables; a pair of angel wings the only thing you could spot of her in the crowded room.
A total of about five seconds passed before someone had grabbed your arm, turning you around so you could face them. It was Allie, who was sporting a grin like the Cheshire cat. Immediately you felt defensive, the look Brooke was giving you too increasing it tenfold.
“What?” you frowned, slightly backing away as you wrestled out of Allie’s grip. She didn’t say anything herself, instead looking at Brooke to voice their joint thoughts – that was how it usually went.
The blonde took a sip of her vodka and tonic through a straw as she took a quick glance to where you assumed Sienna was. “She looks hot in her costume, doesn’t she?”
Arms crossed tightly over your chest, a picture of insecurity, you shot back: “Sorry?” It wasn’t even jealousy that caused the reaction, you were just overwhelmed with everything that was happening.
“Sienna looks hot in her costume, doesn’t she?” Brooke repeated, voice dripping with patronisation. Sometimes it felt like she thought your brain processed things twice as slow as the average persons. Currently it was as you were being to suspect what they were implying.
Trying to control your tone and keep your reaction impartial, you shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so, it’s pretty cool.”
Allie giggled. “You guess so? Please, me and Brooke have been watching you stare at her all night.”
Shit, okay, the suspicion had been right. Both of them had caught onto exactly how you felt. Fear was like a punch to your stomach, making you feel a little nauseous. “Please don’t say anything” was the only sentence you could come up with.
The two girls’ eyes widened, realising they had finally just got conformation on the thing they were only carelessly teasing you about. In reality, they had no more than an inkling towards how you really felt about Sienna. Brooke then laughed. “Shit, dude, I only like kinda suspected it but wow we were right!”
The seconds passed by like an eternity as the tension in the atmosphere could’ve been cut with a knife.
You could only breathe a sigh of relief when Allie reassured you: “I won’t say anything to her I promise,” then sending a very stern look to the definitely tipsy blonde next to her, “neither of us will.” She punctuated the word ‘neither’ particularly harsh – both of you knew gossip was as crucial to Brooke’s survival as oxygen was.
As if reading your minds, the young woman in question put her hands up almost in surrender. “Yes, yes fine, I won’t tell her anything.” Her expression shifted. “However, I’m not going to lie and say if you continue the way you are that she’s never gonna put the pieces together. That is if she hasn’t already.” Brooke slightly nudged you on the arm, trying to drive her point home as gently as possible.
Were you really that obvious?
Before you could ask her to elaborate on how your very intense crush on Miles County’s resident Valkyrie warrior was obvious or defend your honour (and the semblance of pride you had left), Sienna glided up next to you in a flurry of bronze armour and gorgeous hair.
Pressing a red solo cup into your hand, she raised an eyebrow as she looked around at the three of you standing static in amongst the moving crowd.
“What’s up guys?”
Allie, Brooke, and you all equally detested the fact sometimes that your friend was so able to read the room. Sienna’s emotional intelligence was normally something that set off butterflies in your stomach, but currently it made you want to throw your drink all over someone, Brooke seemed the most appealing option currently and make a dash to the nearest exit.
“We’re just talking about who we’ve seen here tonight so far” the lie came quickly and smoothly from Allie’s lips, leading you to internally note that she might have been less innocent than you gave her credit for.
You and Brooke nodded enthusiastically, as if it didn’t make the whole scene look even more weird. The two of you were like water and oil, when you got along something was usually up. Simply brushing it off as you guys not wanting to divulge something to her, Sienna took a swig of her drink and changed the subject.
“Where’s the boyfriend?” she asked Brooke. The grimace on her face indicated she disliked the guy as much as you and Allie did.
The blonde shrugged with a roll of her eyes. “Probably dancing up on some bimbo somewhere, I don’t know, I don’t keep him on a leash.”
Allie snorted. “You should.”
You and Sienna tried not to laugh, shooting each other a look as Brooke visibly got pissed off. “Yeah whatever.” Without even sending a glance to the rest of you she walked away – clearly the comment had struck a nerve, and she wanted to find Jeff to make sure he wasn’t actually dancing with someone else.
Allie watched her go with an expression a mix of guilt and irritation. “She can never just be pleasant.”
“Duh, it’s Brooke” Sienna laughed, once again shooting you a look. This time you didn’t know what it meant, it seemed she was sneaking glances at you just for the sake of it now. “Maybe you should go check on her? She was drinking quite a lot.” There, that was it, what made Sienna special. Despite your friend being a bitch to you all moments ago, the brunette still had her best interests in mind.
Allie bit her lip and you could tell internally she was battling between being petty and putting that aside to be a good friend. The other side won out, as it usually did where you guys were concerned. “Fine, I’ll go find her.”
At first glance it seemed that Brooke couldn’t have gone far, but Allie’s small form soon was swallowed by the ever-growing crowd.
“You, okay?” Sienna asked you as you looked around the room. She knew you weren’t the biggest fan of large crowds, or people in general rather.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Taking a deep breath you finally took initiative for once and extended your free hand. Your friend didn’t need to ask what you wanted, and grabbed it, leading you both to a less crowded area of the dance floor.
One drink turned into two and soon the both of you were tipsy, constantly bumping into each other as you danced. Sienna didn’t seem to care, she looked as if she was having a really good time. That realisation sent warmth straight down to your toes, the fact she found pleasure in your company was a miracle in your opinion.
The time you spent dancing together felt like hours as you grew increasingly tired, but you were slowly starting to sober up. Sienna seemed to be sobering up too. Soon she was grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the crowd, and down a deserted hallway that was much further into the building than everyone else was. She double checked no one was around before levelling you with a serious expression.
“I kinda need some advice.”
Instantly you were on high alert, worried that something had gone wrong throughout the evening. So instead of exposing yourself as the anxious freak you were, you tried to act irritated.
“What about? Aren’t we supposed to be having fun right now?” You weren’t completely lying; the middle of a party wasn’t exactly the best opportunity to pull someone aside for what seemed like a serious talk. But Sienna looked as if something was troubling her, and you didn’t want to push her away.
“No, no we are, I am I promise. But I need to ask you something.”
Had you done something wrong? A million scenarios ran through your mind, most of them ending with you heartbroken and without her in your life anymore. Maybe if you acted more annoyed, she wouldn’t be able to see how scared you were about what she was going to ask.
“Ugh fine but make it quick I wanna get another drink.” The last thing you wanted in the world was more alcohol, but you needed to make it seem believable.
You had rarely seen Sienna so nervous. “Umm let’s say hypothetically someone is here, and I really like them.” It felt like a fist had taken a hold of your heart and was squeezing so hard you couldn’t breathe, but she continued talking. “And I’m pretty sure they like me too, and I really want to kiss them, but I don’t know how to go about it.”
Oh, you should’ve known. How could someone like her ever feel anything for someone like you?
“What?”
Immediately she looked guilty, perhaps she had realised from the surely heartbroken look on your face that your affections regarding her were more than just friendly. “Look it’s fine we don’t have to talk about it, we can just go get more drinks- “, she tried to backtrack, but you knew if she didn’t explain fully, you’d be (even more of) a mess for the entire night.
“No, its fine I’m just…surprised that’s all… who is it? if I can ask?”
This was going to hurt. Was it Daniel, the artsy kid who she always joked around with in history class? Or maybe Davonte, one of the guys you knew she had grown up with. Truthfully the options were endless, Sienna was the type of person that you just couldn’t dislike. It didn’t help that she was stunningly beautiful on top of that.
What she said next wasn’t particularly weird but wasn’t what you had expected. Usually, friends would be all about telling each other who they liked, she seemed hesitant to divulge that particular piece of information. Didn’t she trust you? “Oh um, would your advice be different depending on the person?”
“…Probably.” You knew the only true advice you wanted to give to her on the topic of kissing someone else was: please don’t. But the bitter truth overcame you that you two weren’t together. She saw you as a friend and nothing more. You had no right to control Sienna’s life that way.
“Okay what about just in general?”
Shrugging, you tried to give the most impartial advice you could muster up. Inside though all you wanted to do was drive home and go to bed – you could wallow in self-pity tomorrow. You just hoped she wouldn’t kiss this guy in front of you.
“Well, um, I don’t know… I guess just ask them if they’re drunk, because consent is important, and if they’re not and they seem into you just go for it you know.”
“Right. Okay.” Sienna took a deep breath and bit her lip. The silence between you began to grow strange, why was she acting so weird? You were about to question why she was acting so off before she blurted out: “Are you drunk?”
Confusion washed over you, you assumed both of you were basically sober now – neither of you were lightweights. And also, you practically had to be as you were supposed to be the one driving you and her home. “No, not really, I’ve kinda sobered up basically. Why are- “
Suddenly her lips were on yours.
Oh.
Your teeth nearly bumped together with the force of it as she crowded you against the wall, before gaining composure and pulling away. The air felt warmer somehow as you both caught your breath. Then you moved forward, and that time were the one to initiate the kiss, a lot more softly. Her lips were tacky from her lipstick and your lip gloss, but you didn’t care.
She tasted like mint, the type of mint flavour you’d expect from chewing gum. It was odd that you could probably guess now that she used spearmint toothpaste.
When you both pulled away again, she finally spoke. “You’re such a dumbass for thinking I wanted to kiss someone else you know, my feelings for you weren’t exactly a secret.”
Her feelings for you?
“Oh.”
Sienna bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. “Did you not know?” You shook your head. “Brooke and Allie have been teasing me about it nonstop for weeks I swear.” They knew, and suddenly you felt quite stupid for believing they were as clueless as they acted.
“Assholes” you could only laugh. You were once again cut off when Sienna grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into for a deeper kiss. Clearly, she had been holding this back for a while and you would have been lying if you said it didn’t make you feel weak in the knees to have her be so rough with you.
The way you were being pressed against the wall would most likely leave you with a bruised spine later, but you couldn’t feel anything in that moment except for Sienna’s warm hands moving under your shirt to feel your bare skin, and her tongue eager and skilled against your own.
The sensation was almost dizzying as she moved away from your lips to kiss down your jaw, leaving a trail of lipstick and fake blood across your face. You honestly didn’t care if anyone could see the both of you, and if you looked ridiculous covered in the proof of your current make out session.
For once in your life, you didn’t care about playing it safe, doing what seemed like the most socially acceptable option – all you were focused on was how it felt.
Sienna’s breath was warm against you as she took a moment to try and compose herself, before failing to and losing it completely as she began to bite and suck bruises down your neck.
Maybe she should’ve gone as the vampire instead as you were sure those marks would stay for a good couple of weeks. But it made you hot to think that days from now you could have a physical reminder of what was currently happening. Proof that this wasn’t just another particularly adventurous wet dream involving your newest yet closest friend.
Sienna had always seemed so gentle in every way, but now she was gripping your hips so hard it started to hurt. Shit, she really did have a different side to her. It made another bolt of heat go straight between your legs. Your underwear was already soaked and none of this was helping.
Pulling away she said: “Can I touch you?” and the question made your brain short circuit for a moment. You had no idea she had even wanted to kiss you until moments ago, and now she was basically saying she wanted you that way. If in any other situation or with any other person, you probably would’ve told your friend that this was moving way too fast – but oddly with Sienna, it just felt right.
Insecurities weren’t a foreign concept to you, quite the opposite actually, but the area was pretty dark and you trusted her enough to go further.
So, despite your heart basically beating out of your chest, you nodded. “Yeah.”
“You sure?” her eyebrow was raised, clearly not pegging you as the type who was down for doing anything affectionate let alone intimate basically in public. There wasn’t anyone around, and probably wouldn’t be for a good while, but there was always the risk of getting caught. You suspected Sienna found it exciting, whereas you felt a little paranoid but were going along with it anyway because she was clearly really into it.
And if, God forbid, someone was going to walk past or spot you guys, they wouldn’t see much. You were firmly set on keeping most, if not all, of your clothes on, even if you were in Sienna’s bedroom you would probably consider that option too.
“Sienna please, just, yeah.”
Clearly that was good enough of an answer for her as her hands were sliding up slowly under your shirt. “What about here?” she asked, meaning your chest.
Consent was the most important thing, and you found it sweet she was so adamant on making sure you were comfortable, but if she didn’t touch you there or even lower soon you thought you’d genuinely explode from pent up tension.
Nodding, you pushed yourself forward and let out a sigh as her hands finally met your breasts. Surprisingly, her hands weren’t cold, and it was satisfying to feel her one of the places you needed it most. You were still wearing a bra, but it didn’t even matter if you had kept your shirt on or not as Sienna was reaching around behind you to unhook your bra with one hand anyway.
It was a little awkward to get it fully off and out of your shirt but once you had Sienna was all too ready to feel your bare tits. You tried not to gasp as she squeezed them softly, before pinching one of your nipples and laughing when you squirmed (very much not out of discomfort, but something else).
“Are you sensitive?” she teased, laughing as you tried to send her your best imitation of an annoyed look. “Can I use my mouth?”
“Please just…” the request was too embarrassing to ask out loud, but you could see that Sienna liked watching you squirm. She wasn’t going to budge until you admitted what you wanted. “Yes, please.” You were repeating yourself now, too much of a mess to really consider how to word anything.
She unbuttoned your shirt just enough to get access to your breasts and you immediately shivered as the rush of cold air that hit your chest. “You’re going to be the death of me I swear” she laughed as she leant down as low as possible to take one of your nipples into her mouth.
“Shit” the curse was out of your mouth before you could stop it. Sienna’s mouth was so warm and felt so good already. When it came down to the actual business of physically getting you off, you knew you wouldn’t last long. Even her just playing with your tits had you feeling like putty in her hands.
The girl let out a moan as she stopped sucking to kiss all over your chest and neck, nipping you here and there with her teeth to make you shudder. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it any longer, she stood up fully and asked if she could unzip your suit slacks.
“Fuck, okay” you tried to catch your breath, air coming out in puffs as you tried to steady yourself.
The effort proved futile as she moved forward and kissed you with an open mouth yet again, pulling at your bottom lip periodically with her teeth to drive you just that little more insane. Damn, she really did like biting huh? You made a note of that for future purposes, although the “future” in question was most likely less than hours away.
Sienna’s hands moved quickly at your belt, unlooping it before pulling it off and throwing it carelessly on the ground. Next was the zip of your slacks and the top button, once opened she slid her hand swiftly down into the front of your suit trousers. No time to waste, you supposed, someone could walk past any minute.
Besides, her urgency was incredibly sexy. It was like she needed you as much as she wanted you. At first, she began to touch you over your underwear, marvelling at how wet you were.
“Shit, you’re so wet, all of this is because of me?”
“Yeah” your voice was shaky. The understatement of the century.
She groaned as if your words had physically done something to her, and you swallowed hard. “Jesus I can’t believe we’ve waited until now to do this; I could’ve had you like this for me so long ago” she sounded frustrated. You wanted to admit that you shared the same sentiment, that ever since you had first saw her you had wanted to kiss her until the both of you had passed out from lack of oxygen.
You were going to agree, say ‘me too’ or even just kiss her again, but suddenly her fingers were putting pressure right on your clit. It felt just as good through your underwear due to the friction and just how worked up you already were.
She seemed to be observing your face as she added more pressure and then took it away again over and over, starting to rub little circles slowly.
“You like that?” Sienna moaned, then she needily sighed as you pushed off the wall slightly to push your hips further towards her. “Hang on baby” she kissed you and moved her hand away, making you groan into the kiss a little annoyed she was such a tease.
The frustration didn’t last long as this time she was moving her hand back into the front of your slacks, but also inside your panties this time too. Her face was now buried into your neck, kissing, and licking at the bruised skin there, so you could feel when she gasped as she was met with the feeling of your bare wet pussy against her fingers.
“Holy fuck” Sienna sounded almost winded as she pulled her mouth away from your throat, like she was just as worked up from this teasing as you were. “Can I put them inside?” she asked.
“Yes.” and suddenly her index finger was pushing inside you, eager and warm walls practically sucking her in. Your whole body felt electric, and you moaned as she added another digit alongside her index finger – her middle finger this time, stretching and filling you perfectly.
There was a theory that artists tended to be more dexterous with their fingers, and you were starting to believe this was true as the brunette easily found your g spot. Kissing you hard to muffle the sound of your moans, she pressed her fingers up against it again and again. Her thumb moved up to your clit and began to rub circles and in all honesty, you thought the noise you were making (even when muffled) would attract the attention of the rest of the party rooms away.
Sienna’s entire hand was soaked now, some of your arousal dripping down her wrist. The noises being produced were so obscene that you’d feel shameful if you weren’t currently on cloud nine. You were so close, hands gripping onto the sides of her arms as you needed to hold onto something to stop yourself from shaking so much.
It was also a good thing she had you pressed so harshly against the wall as now your knees were Jello. She could tell from how your cunt was tightening around her fingers that you were close to cumming and, to her credit, thought she had teased you enough – so doubled down on her efforts.
The tension inside of you finally snapped and you came with a muffled half moan, half scream as you absolutely drenched her fingers (shit, you had no idea you could even cum that much). Sienna kept on kissing you, taking her thumb off your clit but still keeping her fingers moving inside of you as to not overstimulate you too much as you rode out your orgasm.
She broke the kiss, and you gasped for breath, both from lack of sufficient air and how overwhelmed you were with pleasure. The aftershocks made you clench a little around her fingers every few moments and she watched in fascination as your chest rose and fell, face so warm your flush could be seen in the dark.
Finally catching your breath and regaining (most of) your composure, you felt as Sienna finally pulled her fingers out from inside you, already making you feel a little empty.
She, instead of wiping her hand on your suit pants or her own leg, instructed you: “Open your mouth.” It wasn’t a question. There was no please. You knew you could refuse anytime you wanted.
Immediately doing as she said, your stomach fluttered at the dangerous edge to her voice. You were met with the taste of your own cum as you sucked her index and middle finger into your mouth eagerly, wanting to prove yourself. Prove yourself as what exactly, you didn’t know. But you were beginning to learn that whatever pleased her, pleased you.
“Good girl” Sienna praised without seemingly really thinking about it, and your hands clenched at her biceps, almost accidentally biting down on her fingers with how hard your body physically reacted at that with something. The dark-haired girl could judge from your reaction that you had definitely took the compliment well. “Oh? You like when I call you that?”
She took her fingers out of your mouth and let out a breath of amusement as you couldn’t meet her gaze. “I expect you to look at me when I’m speaking to you.” Well shit. A hint of intimidation mixed in with your arousal as you let go of her arms and tried to meet her eyes with your own.
“Sorry” you murmured. You had no idea why you were even apologising, but something about Sienna’s words had unbalanced you. In a good way though.
After a moment she backed off of you, making sure you weren’t going to collapse due to how weak your limbs felt now.
“Can you-“ she paused for a moment to take a deep breath, “can you get on your knees for me baby?” She was looking up at you with pupils so blown her eyes were practically black and you felt the sudden urge to have your mouth on her somewhere. Maybe her mouth; it was sparkly, no doubt from all the glittery fake blood that resided around yours. It made you want to giggle, until what she had just asked you registered.
Holy fuck. Was this really happening? Did she mean what you thought she meant?
“Of course you don’t have to- “, the makeup artist was already backtracking, paranoid she had suggested something which made you uncomfortable. You shook your head a little too enthusiastically.
“No, no, i-it’s fine… I want to.” You reassured, moving the two of you so that your positions were now flipped, you crowding her against the wall this time. It was strange though, as even though currently you were acting as the more “dominant one”, you were hanging off of her every word. Like she was the one who was meant to be calling the shots.
Sienna’s head tilted down as she watched you get on your knees in front of her. Her facial expression was one of pure surprise, with a hint of arousal. She looked as powerful in that moment as you believed her to be, a winged warrior whom your heart was in the hands of. But in that moment, she was also just your friend: courageous, and smart and funny.
You wanted to give her the world, but that was currently impossible, so you supposed this would have to do.
“Can I touch you?” the question was shaky as you looked up at her. It was weird to see her from this angle, so used to looking down at her slightly due to the height difference being more so in your favour.
There was no hesitation. “Please.”
So, with trembling hands, you ran a palm up her thigh, marvelling how soft her skin was. Some people were a boob person, some were an ass person, you preferred thighs. And you wanted Sienna’s wrapped around your head as soon as physically possible.
The brunette obviously agreed that the anticipation had gotten too much, as she was then taking off the bottom part of her costume carefully as well as the undershorts she had worn under it. You had (very reluctantly) stopped Sienna when she had reached her underwear and was about to take those off too, wanting to do that yourself.
With her legs slightly spread you could see that her wetness had soaked through her panties. Trying to not bite your lip so hard it bled, you took them off and helped her step out of them carefully.
The sight you were met with had you internally scrabbling to remain composed. In between Sienna’s legs was a triangle of dark trimmed hair, and when she spread her thighs apart you were hit with the realisation of just how wet she was. The arousal was dripping down her inner thighs and making your mouth water.
You looked up at her for a signal to go ahead, and once you had received one you kissed your way up her thigh before grabbing her leg and resting her left foot on your left shoulder. Marvelling at her spread open you could feel from her body language that she was a little nervous. The feeling was mutual, so you tried to ease the tension a little bit.
“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this” you giggled. Jesus, socially awkward much? Sienna Shaw had you between her legs with no panties on and you were giggling like a loser. The thought did nothing to dispel the fluttering feeling in your stomach, it was as if the weight of her foot on your shoulder was the only thing keeping you from floating off the ground.
The brunette let out a huff of laughter, leaning back until her head hit the wall, rather in disbelief herself. “I can’t believe this is happening to begin with.” Your facial expression must’ve turned into something a little less light-hearted as she quickly rectified her statement. “Not that I’m not loving this, you look really cute right now.”
Heat simultaneously rose up to your face and down between your legs at the compliment.
“Seriously, you’re being so good for me”. One of her hands ran through your hair and then moved down to caress your face, you leaned into her touch.
Although technically this was just a hookup between 2 good friends at a Halloween party, the moment felt special. You had no idea why she had feelings for you of all people, but the way she was looking at you right then made you believe that she was genuinely telling the truth. That you were the one she wanted to be with, the one she wanted to do this with.
You leaned forward impossibly closer to her, face just mere inches away from what laid in between her legs. Looking up at her, you wanted to make sure it was okay before you finally got what you had wanted for what felt like forever.
“Go ahead baby”.
The permission she gave to you was the final thing to shatter your composure entirely, you gripped the back of her thighs and finally tasted her. Moaning as you buried your face without any shame into her pussy, you heard as she gasped, most likely from the eagerness of which your tongue was exploring her cunt.
“Jesus Christ” Sienna swore as you licked one long stripe from her entrance right up to her clit, repeating this until she was a trembling mess. Her façade was slowly cracking as you felt her get more desperate to cum, the dominant persona she had shown earlier melting away slightly. In all honesty you didn’t care about the dynamic between the two of you right now, you just wanted her to cum all over your face.
The shorter girl’s blunt nails dug into your scalp as she grabbed your hair harder to grind against your face, deciding the pressure and pace you were going at (which was admittedly rather to tease than anything) wasn’t enough.
The taste of her plus the fact she was practically fucking your face made you moan so loud you almost felt embarrassed. The idea of her using you like this was too much to handle, and shifting a little on your knees you discovered you were wet again already.
You were only almost embarrassed at your own noises because they were clearly sending vibrations straight up to the brunette’s clit and making her let out a string of curses. Her arousal had drenched the bottom half of your face and was dripping down your chin, you wished this could last forever. You would gladly spend the rest of eternity doing this with her if it was possible.
“Fuck that feels so good baby” Sienna tried to say more, before the words trailed off into a groan. The only thing stopping you from moving a hand between your own legs was the fact that you were more worried about holding her up. Sienna’s legs were shaking with pleasure, and it was hitting some sweet egotistical spot in your chest.
Her breathing was getting faster and more ragged as she leant against the wall, clearly on the edge. It made you want to both slow down and speed up at the same time – you wanted to make this last as long as possible. For all you knew, tomorrow it would be like nothing had happened, like you two were just close girl friends. Like you didn't now know what sorts of sounds she made when she’s being eaten out.
But Sienna’s hands were tightening in your hair, and you needed to know more than anything how she sounded like when she came. What her cum tasted like. The uncomfortable ache in your jaw was immediately forgotten as you doubled down your efforts. She tasted absolutely amazing and you knew you’d never forget doing this, could never forget doing this.
She sounded so pretty coming apart above you, panting and moaning as you abused her clit with your tongue.
As the both of you were already pent up, within a few more moments she was coming with a loud gasp, pressing herself against your face as close as physically possible as if she was scared you were going to move away. The reality was that you were more likely to just stay there and never leave. The noises she made were hopefully unheard by anyone else, but you, you were sure to hear them in many wet dreams to come.
Is this what heaven was like? Was she actually some sort of ethereal being? More wetness flooded your mouth, and you were thankful that your feelings for her were so obvious, as otherwise she might not have dragged you here under the guise of needing ‘friendly advice.’
Soon the loud gasps had quietened into barely concealed whimpers, and you were holding yourself back from kissing your way up her inner thigh to do it all over again.
Sienna was trying to catch her breath coming down from an admittedly very intense orgasm, and her grip on your hair was a lot gentler as she stroked your face. “Holy shit.”
You seconded that sentiment, feeling almost dizzy with both satisfaction at making her cum and need for relief again yourself. The ache between your legs was becoming unbearable again, but the current position you were in made you hold off on relieving it so soon.
For a moment, it was quiet except for her quiet breathing and the much louder sound of your racing heart. The two of you could also hear the faint music from the party happening somewhere off in the distance.
“Are you good?” the brunette checked up on you. It made you want to laugh and cry at once – good? You had just acted out your biggest fantasy with someone who you were borderline in love with. Good didn’t cover it.
“Y-yeah.”
Sienna stroked your hair, silently glad that she hadn’t pushed any boundaries with you. It made your heart swell to feel her being so gentle with you, showing she could be as sweet as she could be rough. The perfect balance. You managed to gather enough strength to get up off of your knees and on your feet again to kiss her.
The other girl’s arms wrapped around your neck as she pulled you close, the two of you needing a minute to take in what had just happened.
You realised both of you were still partially undressed and pulled away from the kiss to button your shirt back up and grab the discarded part of her costume as well as her underwear and undershorts. “You should probably uh,” you gestured to her naked lower half, secretly appreciating the sight but more paranoid than anything that some stranger was going to come past and get an eyeful of her ass or more.
Sienna giggled a little at the expression of pure anxiety on your face, thinking that sometimes you were prone to worrying over nothing. There had been no one where the two of you were the entire night. “Calm down, I’ll put my clothes back on” she teased you light-heartedly as she took her underwear and undershorts from you. “Wanna help me put them back on?”.
With all the sex stuff you had forgotten she was almost as much of a dork as you were. Either that or a really big flirt. Probably both.
You ignored the fact you still were incredibly pent up and let her grab your shoulder for balance as she got dressed again. “Can we go back to your place?” you asked, handing her the Valkyrie skirt, and watching as she adjusted it around her waist.
“Oh?” Sienna shot you a look, “of course”. She gave you a peck before taking a hold of the knot of your cape and tightening it, somewhere down the line it had loosened and was close to falling off. “Are you okay to drive?”. Both of you had been sober for quite awhile now, and you trusted that you were fine to get you both to her house safely. You told her you were going to be okay behind a wheel.
The thought of being with her in the privacy of her own bedroom sounded like something to look forward to right now.
As soon as Sienna’s bedroom door slammed behind the two of you, she was pushing you towards the bed, neither of you even bothering to turn on the lights so the room wouldn’t be encased in darkness. Jonathan was out with his friends at some party, the same with Sienna’s mom, meaning the two of you very thankfully had the house to yourselves.
You both collapsed onto her bed in a tangle of limbs, your lips working their way down her neck. Taking charge seemed far away for a brief moment to her as you climbed on top of the Valkyrie warrior, before she remembered how deliciously pathetic you had sounded moaning into her.
Without even thinking, Sienna pushed herself up off the bed and against you, hooking her legs around your back and flipping you two over so now she was the one on top.
You let out a noise of surprise as you looked up at her. “Shit, okay, not complaining about this”.
“Of course you’re not complaining you loser” she laughed, not really meaning the insult. Even if you were a loser, maybe she liked that.
When you grabbed her hips, Sienna responded by grinding down into you, making your breath hitch. Her face showed a mix of concentration and arousal as she tried to take off her wings, shoulder piece and breast plate as carefully and as quickly as possible – sure the costume had taken months to create, but she also really wanted to be inside you right then.
It took a moment, and you having to actually sit up and help her, but finally she was naked from the waist up and you were rewarded with the sight of her bare chest.
Her breasts were perfect, as you had expected them to be, even if they hadn’t been you still would’ve wanted them in your mouth as much as you wanted them right now. The brunette’s hair was framing her face perfectly as she looked down at you, the lamp light illuminating the space around her almost creating the impression that she was glowing.
Grabbing her by the hips and pulling her towards you, the warrior shifted in your lap as you teased one of her nipples using your mouth.
“Fuck” she swore, grabbing the back of your hair when you moved one of your hands away from her hip to fondle her left breast a lot less gentle than you were being with your mouth. Sienna couldn’t believe this was happening still, she had known about your crush on her for a while now but was surprised either of you had the metaphorical balls to do something about it.
Oh, but was she glad though, now pulling you away from her chest and pushing you forcefully down on the bed. “Enough of this teasing bullshit” she practically growled, ripping your shirt open so hard that some of the buttons popped off.
Frankly you didn’t care, the whole costume was bought on a budget and besides, you were too turned on to think of any of the practicalities.
Once your shirt was open, she shimmed down you to take off your belt again, this time for good, and throw it across the room to land somewhere on her bedroom floor. Next came your cape, which would’ve made you giggle in any other situation. Sienna pulled down your slacks with an urgency that, coming from her, was previously unbeknownst to you.
She unhooked your bra and threw it to the side to join the other clothes that were on the floor. “Take these off baby” she was gesturing to your suit trousers.
You kicked them off, leaving them in a bunch at the end of her bed. The half-naked girl bent down to kiss you again as she worked on taking the rest of her costume off, now both of you were basically only in underwear (you still in your shirt somehow – neither of you seemed to care, more concerned with the feeling of her hips pressed against yours).
“You’re so beautiful” you couldn’t help but comment, running a hand down her arm and noticing the gold shimmer of her glitter paint in the dark. Sienna’s face flushed but you didn’t notice, a fact she was grateful of.
The two of you both didn’t feel like you needed to say anything else to each other for a while, simply kissing and enjoying the sensation of her bare chest against yours. The brunette’s breathing was getting heavier though and soon she was reaching to pull down and take off the last article of clothing she had on.
She asked you: “Can we try something?”.
That question made you as curious as it did aroused. “Umm okay”.
Sienna stroked your thigh comfortingly, worried you were anxious for no good reason. “I can do all the work just-” she sighed as she climbed off you for a moment to take your underwear off too, “lift your leg up and put it over my shoulder baby”. Feeling a mix of apprehensive and overwhelmed you did as she said – your stomach fluttering as you noticed how strong her hands were.
Then you realised what she was doing, no stranger yourself to porn. And could only moan as she pushed her hips forward and down, so that her cunt met yours.
“Does this feel good for you?” she asked through pants, clearly enjoying it herself. She felt so wet, and you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from swearing when your clits rubbed together. It was too much and not enough at the same time – this was going to be the death of you.
You could only reply to her question with a string of curses and moans as she experimented with different angles, trying to get the most direct contact with your pussy as possible. Some led to more contact than others but all felt as equally good, and the noises that were being made caused your face to feel hot.
Sienna seemed to go harder when you tried to speak but found you couldn’t form any words, it was becoming clear to you that she liked when you were a desperate mess.
“You look so cute right now” she said, knowing that neither of you were going to last long. “God I love you so much” leaning down, the dark-haired girl kissed you, still rocking her hips against yours as much as she could in the position.
Even though you weren’t getting as much pressure on your clit before now, you still opened your mouth into the kiss – noticing how close you were. She had just said she loved you.
Sienna was pressing her face into your neck now, overwhelmed, her breathing growing more ragged by the minute. “We can’t go back from this you know. After this you’re mine” she sounded close to crying, “I can’t just be your friend, I can’t”.
You didn’t know what to say, so you kissed her again and held her until you both came hard. It was the truth though, the both of you couldn’t be friends anymore after what had happened.
You tried to catch your breath, body still trembling, and told her: “I love you too”.
On the Monday two days later, the weather was warm and got increasingly more unbearable as you pulled your hoodie up, hoping to whatever God was listening that the concealer on your neck wouldn’t rub off anytime soon. Sienna had rocked up to class in a similar fashion but seemed to pull it off better than you did. Neither of you had approached each other in public for fear of embarrassing yourselves.
Pretences were tiring to keep, and after the weekend that had passed you wouldn’t be able to look the brunette in the eye anymore without blushing.
You would call her your friend as you hadn’t necessarily put a label on your relationship yet; however, it was a lot more complicated than that now, and you had never been so happy about complications before. Allie and Brooke had texted you a few times over the weekend talking about aimless stuff, and mainly just making sure that you were alive after disappearing on Friday.
But you couldn’t tell if they had realised what had gone on – going off of what Sienna had told you about them the night of the party you guessed it was only a matter of time before it would be confirmed to them.
Actually, the idea wasn’t as daunting to you as it would have been mere days ago though. It felt like something in you had unravelled, like a rubber band had snapped; you were no longer as fearful of being judged anymore. Maybe it was just because you were so happy, for the past three days now you had woken up in a good mood and it was all down to one person.
Sienna, even when she had just been your friend, made your biggest troubles seem like mere inconveniences when she was around. Her presence was so calming and self-assured. As long as she was with you, nothing could ever hurt you. The girl had said that to you before and you had believed it wholeheartedly. You still did.
And now you two were making the metaphorical (and in this case kind of literal) walk of shame to the lunch table you guys shared with Allie and Brooke every weekday. Both of them seemed a little distracted, but upon realising you and Sienna’s presence they then seemed all too alert. Brooke actually put her phone away. Was this the Twilight Zone or something?
“So” the blonde coughed as you sat down next to Allie. Sienna taking the place next to Brooke. Keeping a distance between you and your crush right then was a good idea as you were sure they were about to borderline interrogate you guys. “What have you guys got for lunch?” Brooke asked, stabbing some salad with her fork.
What a pleasant surprise, for once in her life Brooke Valdeon wasn’t being a complete bitch.
Allie seemed to be following suit, silently asking Sienna to open a bottle of soda for her as she couldn’t do it herself. Neither of them seemed to care that you and Sienna had definitely hooked up and were probably more than friends. The only thing that they said that even showed an inclination of their knowledge was when Allie complained about now being the only single one amongst you all.
“Seriously guys, there’s so many single people out there – surely one of them’s for me, why haven’t I found them yet?”
Brooke rolled her eyes; “Cause you say cringe shit like that.” You all laughed and even Allie had to crack a smile at that, knowing it was pretty much true.
After lunch break Sienna had offered to walk you to class, just the two of you, leaving a surprisingly supportive Allie and Brooke in your wake. She had her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans and looked incredibly nervous. You had literally seen her entirely naked not even three days ago, and she was still acting like you guys were at the end of a first date or something, you would’ve poked fun at her if it wasn’t so cute.
“Would you wanna come round mine tonight? We could watch a movie, I just renewed my Shudder subscription” she offered quietly.
You tried not to smile, “Like a date?”
She looked down at her converse, nothing like the girl you had been with on Friday. “Yeah, I mean, if you want it to be…”
Instead of giving Sienna a verbal response you checked the hallway was empty before grabbing her by her hoodie strings to pull her close and kiss her. You pulled away after a few moments, happy you could now do that without risking making a complete fool of yourself. Watching you as you turned around and opened the door to your next class, Sienna looked surprised. Surely that was a good enough answer to her question.
“So, is that a yes?!” she shouted after you, flustered.
“Duh, Sienna! Of course it’s a yes!”
a/n: and then you guys had a super cute date/movie night and watched the Texas chainsaw massacre and lived happily ever after with no scary borderline immortal clown ruining your lives ::))
#sienna shaw#terrifier#terrifier 3#wlw#sienna shaw x reader#sienna shaw x fem reader#x fem!reader#x female reader#sienna shaw x you#smut#fluff#friends to lovers#mutual pining#terrifier 2#art the clown#damien leone#fanfic#terrifier 2 fanfic#wlw smut#terrifier allie#jonathan shaw#lauren lavera#Spotify
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (17/17)
Part Summary: “I firmly believe that when you do the right thing, everything will eventually fall into place. It might not turn out exactly as you hoped, but you’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.”
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 7.600+ | Tags/Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of smut Author's note: Wow! Those five months went by so fast. Thank you so much for being with me on this journey. It's been my honor and pleasure sharing with you this story :)
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 | Part XVI
-
“Tell me that your love is a sure thing” - Golden Vessel, Emerson Leif (“Hesitate”)
“Do you think I should ask Y/N to come with me?” Leigh asks, idly twisting a gold bauble between her fingers. She stares at it a beat too long, like she might find the answer in the curve of its shiny surface.
It's three days before Christmas, and true to Shaw family tradition, they're just now getting around to setting up the decorations. It wouldn't have happened at all if Amy hadn't taken the initiative to remind them. She was supposed to help, but she's vanished again to meet another “friend.” Leigh and Jules are suspicious, thinking their mom might be seeing someone in secret.
Jules, teetering slightly on the ladder, twists around to give Leigh a raised eyebrow. “To the Harrison’s bash for New Year’s? Hell yeah, why not? She’s a blast. Could shake things up a bit.”
“No, not that,” Leigh exhales, now regretting even bringing it up. “I mean the comic book tour for Matt.”
Jules steps down, one rung at a time, until she’s down to Leigh’s level. “Oh. That’s…quite a step. But, why not? Sounds like an adventure for you both,” she says.
Logan zips by, a sheeny red bauble in his mouth, set on a mission to place it next to his bowl in the kitchen. He keeps fetching or chasing after the scattered Christmas balls, sending them rolling all over the house. Leigh and Jules have been running around, picking them up and putting them back on the tree.
“It’s not just that,” Leigh says, glancing out the window where the first hints of evening are brushing the sky. “Asking her to come means asking her to leave everything here behind. Her life, her responsibilities. It’s different for her—she has a real career.”
“Hold up—what we do is a real career too. We’re improving lives with healthy habits, remember?”
Leigh laughs sardonically. “Come on, Jules, we're kinda just floating, working for Mom. Y/N is a doctor, owns her clinic, has staff. That’s...”
“That’s a big deal,” Jules agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s a huge ask, for sure.”
Silence hangs for a beat, the only sounds being Logan’s light panting as he settles down, ornament forgotten.
“Do you think she'd actually say no?” Jules suddenly pipes up, climbing back up the ladder to resume her decorating. Leigh spots a stray ornament a few feet away, points at it, and calls out, “Fetch!”
Logan springs into action, scampering to retrieve it. As he returns, triumphant, Leigh gives him a pat on the head and passes the ornament up to Jules.
“Actually, it’s quite the opposite. She’d jump at the chance,” she tells Jules.
“So, what’s stopping you?”
“She might regret it later,” Leigh says quietly. “And that could mean losing her.”
Jules frowns, understanding the bind her sister is in. She stretches out a hand, and Leigh takes it, their palms pressing cold and warm together. “I’m sorry.”
“And if I leave her here, I might lose her anyway,” Leigh adds, the heaviness of two futures making her shoulders sag.
Jules gives her hand a firm squeeze. “But what if you both end up regretting not taking the chance? It’s only a few months. Maybe Y/N can sort something out with her clinic?”
“It’s still too risky for her business. She’s poured everything into that place, Jules. Asking her to step away, even briefly—it’s…it’s selfish.”
“Life’s full of risky asks, Leigh. Sometimes, you gotta bet on what’s scary. Risk a little heartbreak on the chance it’ll bring you both something remarkable. Maybe this is one of those times?”
Leigh releases her hand and moves to another bare section of the tree. “Is that the kind of thinking that made you decide to look for your biological parents in Vietnam?”
Jules snaps the tinsel down, her response coming quick and a bit sharp. “Yes.”
Leigh winces slightly, realizing her question might have prodded an unintended sore spot. “I didn’t mean—”
“I get it,” Jules interjects, sighing as she tries to bring the conversation to a close. They’re both dealing with their own issues, and as much as she loves Leigh, she knows she’s not in the right headspace to offer solid advice—especially advice she’s not even sure works.
Leigh clamps her mouth shut. She doesn’t want this to turn into an argument either.
“Maybe just talk to her? See what she thinks? Who knows, maybe the biggest leaps make the most sense when you’re doing them for the right reasons... for the right person,” Jules says after some time.
“You really think so?” Leigh asks, her voice threaded with hope.
“I do,” Jules nods, her hands busy rewrapping the tinsel Logan has graciously returned. “Just talk to her. It’s either a ‘what if’ or a ‘what now.’ Better to find out which.”
-
Leigh comes with her mouth open, but no sound escapes. Her body trembles as she experiences what she knows is the best orgasm she's ever had—though she remembers saying the same thing about this morning’s quickie in your bathroom. It just seems to keep getting better each time.
You slowly climb up from her pussy, trailing soft kisses along her stomach. As you move upward, you let your tongue lightly trace a stripe across one of her nipples, eliciting a shiver from Leigh. She’s still catching her breath, but when you finally reach her lips, she pulls you in for a deep, consuming kiss. The way her tongue wrestles with yours tells you she’s already eager for more, her hands tangling in your hair as she holds you close.
You break the kiss, smiling down at her. “Hi,” you murmur, almost shyly.
Leigh, still a little dazed, brushes the strands of hair off your forehead and gently traces your lower lip with her thumb. “You know something?” she asks, her eyes wandering over the marks and lines on your face.
“Hm?”
She kisses the corner of your mouth. “You're kind of amazing,” she says softly.
“That good, huh?” you tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
Her hand, which has been cupping your face, slides down your neck before she pulls it back to herself, biting at her index fingernail.
“I’m sure you can tell,” she whispers, her voice low and sultry. To emphasize her point, she arches her hips, the slickness between her thighs evident against your skin.
“You’re going to have to give me a minute,” you sigh, letting your head fall to her sweaty chest. “You’ve completely worn me out.”
Leigh laughs, a soft, melodic sound. “Really? Getting tired already? What happened to your stamina?”
You don’t bother to retort, content just to lie there listening to the rhythm of her heart. “It’s hard work keeping you satisfied,” you say after some time, your voice muffled against her skin.
She tightens her hold around you, the gentle stroke of her fingers in your hair making every thought slow down. The security of her embrace makes everything seem right in the world, and it emboldens you to voice a thought that's been on your mind more and more lately.
“You know,” you start, lifting your head to catch her eyes, “I was thinking… maybe you should move in with me.”
Leigh stiffens just a bit, her eyes darting away for a moment, and you instantly regret how fast you’ve blurted it out. You sit up, trying to backpedal, “Only if you want to, I mean... it was just a thought. You're here most nights anyway, and your toothbrush is already—”
Before you can ramble on, Leigh leans in and silences you with a gentle kiss. “Slow down,” she whispers against your lips, her smile reassuring.
You chuckle, giving her a sheepish, lopsided smile. “Right, right,” you agree, settling back down beside her.
Leigh shifts to lie on her side, propping herself up on one elbow. Her eyes, still dark with want, sweep over your body—flushed, soft, and still quivering slightly from your efforts to pleasure her. She catches herself, though, and with a more composed motion, she pulls the blanket up to cover you, tucking it around your chest.
You look up at her, your expression ironically innocent, waiting for her to say what's on her mind.
“I’d love to,” Leigh finally says. “But do you really think it’s the right move?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ve just started exploring what this is, what we could be, and I’m already planning to leave. It feels like I’m setting us up for...” Leigh doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to.
Matt's book tour looms over both of you, an ever-present shadow no matter how tightly you try to cling to each other. It's as if you believe that by melding into one with Leigh, you could somehow will her impending departure into nonexistence.
Though before you can say anything, your phone rings from the coffee table beside you. You reach over and grab it, your mom's name flashing urgently on the screen. A quick glance at the time sends a jolt through you—you were to pick her up at the airport but completely lost track of time.
Leigh sits up too, clutching the sheet to her naked torso. “What is it?”
You wince, the irony of the situation not lost on you. “It's my mom,” you explain hurriedly. “I should have left, like, half an hour ago to pick her up at the airport. She’s staying with me for a few days until right before New Year’s.”
A moment ago, you were discussing moving in together, and now you find yourself needing to ask her to leave.
Leigh raises an eyebrow, smiling coyly as she realizes the implications of your mother’s arrival. “And let me guess, she's staying here? In your one-bedroom palace?”
“Yeah,” you say, scrambling to get dressed. “Which means I need to air out the place, change the sheets... make it look like I live like a monk.” You stop for a second, looking at Leigh with an apologetic frown on your face. “And I kind of need to ask you to leave now. Please don’t be mad.”
“Mad?” Leigh laughs as she swings her legs out of bed and starts gathering her clothes. Once she's collected them all, she steps closer, gives you a quick kiss, and murmurs right next to your ear, “I’m furious.”
You kiss her hair gently before stepping in front of the mirror to check your appearance, making sure you don't look as disheveled as you feel.
“Gives us both some time to think about everything. The tour, us moving in, all of it,” Leigh says, slipping into her jeans.
“Absolutely,” you agree, watching her.
“Change those sheets well, huh?” she teases, zipping up her bag. “You know how moms can be.”
You grimace jokingly at her comment. “Please, don't ever use 'sheets' and 'mom' in the same sentence ever again.”
Leigh laughs again, clearly enjoying you squirm. She slings her bag over her shoulder, waiting for you to finish getting ready.
As you cap your lip gloss, an idea suddenly strikes you. Seeing Leigh's expectant look reflected in the mirror, you ask, “Hey, how about you join me to pick her up at the airport?”
Meeting your mom seems like another huge step in your relationship, but she doesn't hesitate.
“Is it okay with your mom?” she asks, a bit wary.
You shrug, taking her hand confidently. “Why wouldn't it be?”
-
Apparently, you’re the spitting image of your mother.
At least, that’s how Leigh sees it as she watches you both hug it out in the arrival section of LAX. As a fitness pundit, Leigh immediately notices your mom's excellent posture, despite her petite frame. It's the first thing she observes in anyone, and your mom is no exception. Beyond that, you both share the same quick smile and the way your eyes light up in laughter—deep brown, the color of rich coffee, which Leigh finds particularly striking. Even the gestures are mirrored; the way you both tuck hair behind your ear when nervous, or the confidence in your strides.
What distinctly sets her apart from you, though, is how intimidating your mom appears to be.
As you walk to the parking lot, holding your mom’s hand in one of yours and Leigh’s in the other, your mom chats animatedly about a hot spring resort she discovered near your hometown. Leigh keeps half a step behind, doing her best to stay engaged while keeping up with your pace.
“So, how was your flight?” Leigh asks, finding a moment to wedge herself into the conversation.
Your mom barely glances back, responding briefly before turning her attention back to you. “Long, but it’s always nice to spend Christmas with my daughter,” she says, squeezing your hand affectionately.
Leigh tries again. “It's pretty nice weather here, isn't it? I bet it's a lot colder on the East Coast right now.”
“Oh, it’s freezing out there, Leigh,” you chime in, completely oblivious to the awkward interaction between your mom and your girlfriend.
Your mom nods but doesn't elaborate, her focus still on you. “We should stop by that bakery you always gush about,” she says, eyes bright with excitement.
Leigh's grip on your hand tightens slightly, and she lags further behind. “Oh, that store closes at five. It’s seven already,” you say.
Desperate to connect, Leigh tries for the final time. “There are special light installations in the park for the holidays. Would you like to go see them?”
Your mom finally looks back, but her smile is thin. “I’m not much into these ‘light installations’. Too much walking.” She quickly shifts back to you. “How’s work been?”
“Work’s been busy, but manageable,” you say, glancing back at Leigh, who offers a small, strained smile.
The three of you continue to the parking lot, the conversation feeling increasingly one-sided. As you reach the car, you open the trunk and help with the bags, all the while trying to think of a way to include Leigh more naturally.
“Leigh and I were thinking of checking out that new restaurant downtown,” you say, making an effort to draw your mom's attention to her.
“Sounds nice,” your mom replies. “But actually, I'm not hungry—just a bit tired.”
Leigh’s expression falls just a bit, but she quickly masks it, helping with the last of the luggage. She figures that’s her cue to leave.
You can’t hide your frustration. Your plan was to have a nice dinner, a proper introduction. “Are you sure, Mom? It doesn’t have to be a long meal,” you push back gently.
“Let’s just get your mom home, she’s had a long day,” Leigh tells you softly.
You glance at your mom, silently pleading for her to reconsider, but she only smiles. “Maybe another time, dear.”
Reluctantly, you agree.
-
You lead your mom into the living room, urging her to make herself comfortable while you hurry to get the bedroom ready. The sheets need changing, the windows thrown open to freshen the air, and the whole space needs a bit of tidying.
“I’ll be right back,” you mumble, disappearing into the bedroom.
In the bedroom, you work quickly, stripping the used sheets and flinging the windows wide. You hustle, smoothing on fresh sheets, fluffing pillows, and straightening up—getting rid of all the evidence of what you and Leigh had been doing all week.
Meanwhile, your mom isn't one to just sit around. She takes in the scattered magazines, the couch cushions askew, and the dishes piled up in the kitchen. With a small sigh, she gets up and starts putting things in order. She straightens up the living room and moves on to tackle the kitchen. Before long, the sound of running water and clinking dishes fills your tiny apartment.
When she’s done setting things in order, she starts rummaging through your fridge and pantry. With only a few ingredients at hand, she decides to make do with what you have. Soon, she's boiling spaghetti and slicing hotdogs to toss into the mix. This dish was a childhood favorite of yours and remains a go-to comfort food. As soon as the familiar aroma wafts through the air, you find yourself irresistibly drawn toward the kitchen.
“Is that...?” you start, a delighted smile spreading across your face at the sight of the generous layer of shredded cheese melting over the thick red sauce.
“Sit down and eat while it's hot,” your mom commands with a warm smile.
You don’t need to be told twice. Fork in hand, you dive into the spaghetti as though you haven't eaten in days. Considering your usual diet of takeout and quick fixes, that's not too far from the truth. You chat about small, inconsequential things—the new coffee shop you tried last week, the remarkable cases you’ve encountered in the clinic this month, the shows you’ve been watching on Netflix.
Finishing your meal, you lean back with a satisfied sigh, feeling truly content for the first time in a long while.
“Mom?”
“Yes, dear?”
“So... what do you think of Leigh?”
“So that’s Leigh, huh?” Your mom pauses, setting down her cup of tea with deliberate care. “The widow of the guy you unknowingly dated for a while, not realizing he was married?”
“Yeah, that’s her,” you confirm, nodding slowly as your nerves start to build. The last time you brought up Leigh to your mom, you were almost ready to throw in the towel until she urged you to give it another shot. Now, more than anything, you're hoping she'll give her approval.
She nods thoughtfully, then with a sly grin, says, “Well, she's definitely out of your league.”
“Mom!” you exclaim, embarrassed.
She chuckles, clearly pleased with her little joke.
“Come on, be serious,” you plead.
Your mom clasps her hands on the table, and gives you that look—the one that means business. You can't help but roll your eyes at her theatrics, clearly aimed at getting a rise out of you.
“Leigh seems lovely,” she says. You can tell she’s sincere and that makes you sigh in relief. “And I really appreciate how she tried to engage with me earlier.”
You relax slightly, but then, as you replay the earlier interactions in your mind, you realize Leigh seemed frustrated and your mom wasn’t as welcoming as she usually is. Your face scrunches up as this sinks in.
“Wait, you were really standoffish to Leigh earlier!”
She holds up her hands in a half-shrug, her smirk fading into a more thoughtful expression. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to come off that way at all,” she says. “I guess I was just being overprotective. You know, considering how everything started between you two.”
You appreciate her motherly instincts but wish she'd given Leigh a fairer chance from the start. “I get it, Mom. But Leigh is really important to me now. It would mean a lot if you could try to get to know her better. For me?”
“Of course, sweetie,” she says. “What do you need?”
“Well, for starters…” you start, pausing as you try to find the right way to explain. You're about to share that you'll be spending Christmas dinner with the Shaws this year. It's always been just the two of you for the holidays, so you're not sure how she'll take the news of including others she hardly knows. “You’ll have an opportunity to bond with her the day after tomorrow.”
“What’s on Tuesday?”
“Christmas Eve dinner,” you reply. “At the Shaws.”
“Dinner at your girlfriend’s?” she clarifies.
You nod, your lip catching between your teeth. It still feels a little surreal—exciting, actually—being able to call Leigh your girlfriend. “Yeah, Mom. I thought it’d be nice for us to join them this year.”
Instead of giving an outright yes, she asks, “What should I bring? I want to make a good impression.”
You stand up and walk around the table to give her a hug. She wraps her arms around you and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Thank you,” you mutter into her shoulder. “Maybe bring your blueberry pie? Everyone loves that.”
“You love it,” she says cheerily. “Consider it done.”
Slipping back into old habits, you start clearing the dinner dishes, just like you used to when you lived with her. As you stack dishes and run water in the sink, your mom begins unpacking her bags in your bedroom. As you scrub the dishes, thoughts of following Leigh and leaving everything here behind start to overwhelm you. Once the kitchen is spotless and the last dish is put away, you realize you can't keep these feelings bottled up any longer.
You call out to your mother as you dry your hands on a kitchen towel. A few seconds later, she reappears in the living room, her face expectant.
“Hey, uhm,” you say, not knowing how to start. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
“Go on,” she urges gently.
You take a deep breath before continuing, “Matt’s comic book is getting published posthumously. The publishing company wants Leigh to join a tour to promote the book, and I'm… I’m thinking of joining her.”
Your mom's expression becomes inscrutable as she processes the information. She walks to the couch and takes a seat. After a long pause, she asks, “What will happen to your clinic here?”
You look down, fidgeting with the towel in your hands, and then meet her gaze. “I’ve thought about that,” you say. “I’d need to find someone to cover for me. It wouldn’t be easy, but... I feel like I need to be there for Leigh. This is important to her, and… she’s everything to me.”
You try to read her reaction, but every line on her face remains perfectly still and composed. “Is it because you want to be there for her,” she says slowly, “or because you're afraid that if she leaves, you might lose her?”
Your eyes drop to the floor, and that's answer enough for your mother.
“Come here,” she says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to her. Wordlessly, you oblige.
“It's okay to be scared,” she whispers. “Loving someone means taking risks. Just remember, you need to be true to yourself as well. Leigh is important, but so are you.”
“I just don’t want to regret not giving my all to see this through with her,” you say.
“You love her,” she states, not as a question, but as a fact.
“I really do,” you say quietly.
“I firmly believe that when you do the right thing, everything will eventually fall into place. It might not turn out exactly as you hoped, but you’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.”
-
Your mom's words stay with you throughout the night. As you lie in bed, you can hear her soft breathing, her back turned to you.
You’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.
Your phone vibrates gently beneath your pillow, and you smile when you see a message from Leigh.
Leigh [10:45 PM]: Can’t sleep. I miss you.
You [10:45 PM]: Miss you too.
She doesn't reply, but she fills your head well into the night. The future is uncertain, but one thing feels right: going with Leigh on her tour is the decision that brings you peace.
-
Christmas Eve dinner arrives sooner than you expected.
Pulling up to the Shaws' house, you're amazed by the decorations that the siblings have tirelessly worked on for the past two days. The house is transformed into a festive wonderland, with twinkling lights draped over every surface, garlands of holly framing the windows, and a towering Christmas tree visible through the living room window, adorned with shimmering ornaments and tinsel.
You watch your mom's reaction as you both step out of the car, seeing the lights reflected in her awe-filled eyes. You beam at her, proud of your girlfriend's decorating skills and holiday spirit.
You and your mom walk up to the doorstep. She clutches her much-loved blueberry pie, which you’re looking forward to having a hearty slice of tonight, while you carefully hold Leigh's gift—a Lego typewriter modeled after a vintage 1950s design. You feel a twinge of nervousness about how she’ll receive your gift.
Moments later, the door swings open to reveal Leigh, all dressed up, and for a moment, you're speechless. Leigh has always been beautiful. No matter what she wears—be it casual joggers, sleek dresses, or even just her underwear—she never fails to leave an impression. Tonight is no different; she takes your breath away all over again.
“Merry Christmas!” Leigh greets brightly. “Almost, anyway,” she adds with a nervous laugh.
“Your decorations are incredible,” your mom says, smiling at her.
“Oh, thank you!” Leigh replies, her cheeks flushing at the unexpected compliment.
“Where should I put this?” your mom asks, holding up her pie.
“You didn’t have to, but wow, that looks amazing! Come on in, I'll show you,” Leigh says, stepping aside to let you both in. She leads you to the kitchen, where the smells of holiday cooking are even stronger. “You can set it right here,” she points to a spot on the counter already laden with various dishes and desserts.
Just as your mom sets the pie on the counter, Amy walks in. Leigh introduces her mom, and the two women share friendly greetings before Amy’s attention quickly turns to the blueberry pie. They dive into a lively discussion about cooking, swapping recipes as if they’ve known each other for years.
Leigh turns to you, her eyes shining. “I'm so glad you’re here now,” she says softly, her fingers lightly brushing against yours. Craving more contact, you gently grasp her hand and guide her to the backyard where Logan is nonchalantly marking a geranium. With no one around now, you draw Leigh close and kiss her deeply. Leigh responds just as fervently, her hand coming to rest on your waist and then squeezing, making you moan into her mouth. She takes advantage of the moment, slipping her tongue in. Her other hand finds its way to your neck, pulling you even closer. You can feel her heartbeat against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own.
When you finally pull back, breathless, you rest your forehead against hers. Leigh's eyes are half-lidded, her lips slightly swollen, tempting you to lean in once more. Just as you're about to, she finally takes notice of the enormous box under your arm.
“Is that for me?”
“Yes,” you say, handing it to her. “I hope you like it.”
Leigh's eyes widen as she takes her gift, her excitement further lighting up her soulful green eyes.
“I've got something for you too,” she says, giving the box a little shake. “It's upstairs in my bedroom. Want to get it now?”
You shake your head, matching her giddy smile. “Maybe later. If you take me to your bedroom now, I can't promise we'll be back in time for dinner,” you say.
Leigh chuckles. Honestly, she feels the same way. “Well then, can I open this now?” she asks.
“Absolutely! Go ahead. I really hope you like it.”
Leigh quickly starts unwrapping your gift, her fingers deftly tearing through the wrapping paper. As the paper falls away, her eyes widen in pleasant surprise at the sight of the Lego typewriter.
“Oh my gosh, it's perfect! Thank you so much!” She carefully places it on the ground before wrapping you in a tight embrace.
“You're welcome,” you whisper, circling your arms around her waist and pulling her close.
When she pulls back, her eyes are brimming with happiness and something deeper—pure, unfiltered love. She stares at you, her gaze soft and intense, as if she's seeing you for the first time.
“I can't believe you remembered,” she says, referring to a conversation you had weeks prior. “This means so much to me.”
You smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to make you happy.”
Something in your words strikes a chord within her. Without thinking, she blurts out, “Come with me to Matt's comic book tour.”
Her eyes widen slightly as she realizes what she's just said. But she doesn't take it back; instead, she buries her face in your neck, breathing in your scent. With each breath, she finds the idea of being apart from you increasingly unbearable.
“I want you to be there with me,” she continues with more conviction. “I can't imagine doing this without you.”
She pulls back slightly, needing to see your reaction. In your eyes, she finds the same depth of love she feels for you, mirrored back at her.
“As you wish,” you whisper, leaning in to seal your promise with a kiss.
-
Dinner is a success, largely due to Amy's and your mom's excellent cooking skills. The pasta prepared by Leigh and Jules wasn't a total disaster, but it had its mishaps. After the first batch turned too soggy—practically mush—Jules had to dash out in the middle of dinner to buy another pack of pasta.
Leigh’s father made a brief appearance with his new family, stirring a bit of awkwardness between the exes. Luckily, your mother defused the tension by suggesting a family game. It wasn’t long before laughter filled the room, with Jules energetically shouting clues at those struggling to guess the words on their foreheads.
In the middle of the game, Leigh volunteers to do the dishes. You offer to help, but Jules quickly drags you out of your seat to be the next one to guess the word. While you’re preoccupied, your mom quietly slips out of the living room and follows Leigh into the kitchen.
Leigh is surprised to see your mom. “I've got this,” she assures her with a polite smile. Despite your mom having considerably warmed up to her, Leigh still feels a bit anxious in her presence.
Your mom simply picks up some dinnerware that has already been washed and starts wiping them dry with a towel. “Do you know why Y/N became a veterinarian?” she asks casually.
Leigh smiles, recalling your story about Max, the first animal you ever helped. “Yes, she told me about rescuing a pup. It was really touching,” she says, her eyes softening at the memory.
Your mom observes Leigh, who has already returned to busily washing the dishes. “That’s right. But there’s more to it,” she says.
Leigh stops what she’s doing and tilts her head. “What do you mean by that?” she asks.
“Y/N did get into veterinary school,” your mom begins, placing a dry plate on the stack. “But she dropped out after the first semester. She had this deep-seated dream of traveling the world.”
Leigh listens attentively, wiping her hands on a dishcloth.
“Her father and older brother are both veterinarians, running a small clinic in our town. Naturally, they encouraged her to follow the same path,” your mom continues, “and while she loved animals, she also wanted to explore every corner of the world ever since she was a kid.”
Leigh's hands pause in the sudsy water as she absorbs every word.
“Her father gave her his blessing, and off she went. She traveled the world for two years.”
“What brought her back?” Leigh asks.
Your mom takes a deep breath, her knuckles whitening as she grips the towel more tightly. “H-Her father and brother were killed in a car accident,” she says, each word seeming to be painfully forced out of her.
Leigh's hand flies to her mouth in horror. “Oh no, I... I didn’t know,” she stammers, feeling a rush of guilt and confusion. Why hadn’t this crucial detail come up before?
“It was a terrible time,” your mom says quietly, “but it brought her back home.”
Leigh is silent, guilt gnawing at her for not knowing such a significant detail of your life. She’s been so caught up in sharing her own thoughts and plans, and you’ve always been the listener, never pressing her to ask about your past. She realizes now how little she’s asked about your family.
Leigh abandons her chore altogether. “W-What happened then?”
“After the accident, without their expertise, we couldn't keep the clinic running,” your mom replies, her voice steadier now but still tinged with sadness. “We had to put it up for sale. It was devastating to lose what they had worked so hard for.
“For a long time, Y/N was depressed. She blamed herself for not being there in the last two years, for putting her own interests first. And with the clinic gone, she felt like she had failed to preserve their legacy.”
Leigh is at a loss for words, her eyes growing bleary. “I’m—”
“Being a housewife all those years, I suddenly found myself needing to help put food on the table so Y/N could go back to school,” your mom explains. “For a year, she was just a shell of herself, hardly the vibrant person you know now.”
Needing a moment to process all these revelations, Leigh moves to the dining table and sits down. Her legs feel weak at the thought of you being so heartbroken. She knows grief all too well. Losing one person she loved nearly destroyed her; she can't imagine losing two at once.
“Y/N is the most… beautiful, wonderful and well-adjusted person I know,” Leigh says after a while. “I wouldn't have guessed she went through all that.”
“My daughter is a miracle,” your mom states with a soft smile.
“Thank you for telling me all this,” Leigh says sincerely. “It means a lot to understand what she’s been through.”
Your mom nods and says, “I'm not telling you this just because you're her girlfriend. I'm telling you because I know she’s planning to follow you and leave her practice here in LA behind.”
Leigh's breath hitches as she takes it all in. Learning about your father and brother, she realizes she nearly forgot what she asked of you just hours ago. It's not just a job or a business you're leaving behind—it's a dream that keeps their memory alive, a part of you where they still live on.
“Please, don't ask her to leave everything behind,” your mom says, her voice almost pleading. “Just promise her that you'll come back for her.”
It’s not an easy promise to make—or keep. The mere uncertainty of what lies ahead holds her back. She can't stand the idea of breaking a promise to you or betraying your trust in any way.
Leigh's silence stretches on, and your mom speaks again. “If you can't promise to come back for her, just end it. Don't let it drag on. She's tougher than she knows. It'll hurt, but she won't be alone—I'll be there, and so will her friends and coworkers.”
Leigh balks at her. “I don't want to rush into a decision.”
But your mom isn't listening. Her concern cuts through her caution, compelling her to share more. “After we lost half our family, she was never the same. She’d sacrifice everything for someone she loves, always skeptical of a second chance. She loves like there's no tomorrow.”
It’s the one thing your mother said tonight that rings truest about you. You do love as if it's the last thing you'll ever do.
Before Leigh can respond, Amy walks in, sensing the tension immediately. “Is everything alright?” she asks, her eyes darting between Leigh and your mom.
Leigh suddenly realizes she's been crying, and so has your mom. Your mother excuses herself to the bathroom, leaving Amy looking concerned and bewildered.
“What was that about?” Amy asks.
Leigh, shaken and overwhelmed, struggles to speak. “I-I need to get the gifts for everyone. They're upstairs,” she stammers, then quickly heads to the bedroom, needing to escape and collect herself.
Amy watches Leigh leave, then reaches for the blueberry pie, trying not to read too much into the haunted look in her daughter’s eyes.
-
It’s a cold January evening when Leigh finally gathers the courage to talk to you. Your mother flew back to Maine three days after Boxing Day, and the rest of the holidays passed by in pure bliss. The two of you are curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, the remnants of dinner still on the coffee table. She’s been avoiding this conversation, clinging to the hope that something might change. But the more she thinks about the family you lost when you were younger, the more convinced she becomes that your mother was right.
“Can we talk?” Leigh’s voice is soft, almost drowned out by the movie playing in the background.
You mute the TV and turn to her, a look of concern immediately crossing your face. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about our future,” Leigh says slowly.
It doesn’t immediately ring any alarm bells in your head, but your heart starts to race. “Okay…” you murmur. You can't help but notice her hands twisting nervously in her lap. You reach out to steady them, and as she looks up, her resolve breaks.
“I love you. You mean the world to me, but…I don’t know if it’s right for you to come with me.”
You frown, eyebrows stitched together in confusion and denial. “Leigh, what are you talking about?”
She looks away, her hands slipping from your grasp as she inches further into her corner of the couch. “I can’t be the reason you give up everything you’ve worked so hard for,” she says.
“I’m not,” you reassure her, trying to keep calm. “It’s just for a little while, right? Less than six months on tour. And it's not like we'll be non-stop; the schedule allows breaks. We can come back home in between. We’ve discussed this, remember? We have a plan in place.”
Leigh grows quiet, her gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. She takes a long breath through her nose, as if preparing herself for something even harder to say. “That's the thing,” she whispers. “I might not come back.”
Everything around you stills.
“What do you mean, you might not come back?”
Leigh’s eyes remained glued to the floor. “For the longest time, I’ve thought about leaving. Now that Jules is embarking on her own trip to Vietnam, and Mom is planning a long vacation in Europe, it feels like the best time to explore what's out there.”
“Leigh, we've been planning this together. It's just a tour. We'll be back,” you reiterate in frustration, starting to grasp at straws.
She merely shakes her head. “Everything about this place reminds me of Matt—both the good and the bad memories. Maybe I—”
“Great. The Matt card again,” you snap.
Leigh bristles at your comment. She stands abruptly and begins to pace. Seething. “Card?” she retorts sharply. “This is my life, my pain—”
“And you’ve just been running away from it all!” you counter, standing up too. “Running away from me!”
“Didn't you?” she fires back, her voice breaking.
“What—”
“Didn't you do the same thing when you lost your—” Leigh can't finish the sentence. It hurts too much to even say it.
You take a step back, shocked. “How did you—”
“Your mom told me.”
The room certainly feels like it's closing in. Unable to stand any longer, your legs give out, and you collapse onto the couch, burying your face in your hands and massaging your temples. Leigh watches you for a moment, then sits beside you. She reaches out tentatively but pulls back, unsure of what to say or do.
Your hands fall away from your face, and you turn to her, your eyes filled with pain and betrayal. “You learned about me losing my dad and my brother, and your response is to... leave me as well?”
Leigh's eyes fill with tears again, and she looks away, unable to hold your gaze. “It’s not like that,” she whispers, her voice trembling.
“What if I promise that the clinic will be okay? Foreman can manage things while I’m away, I trust him,” you suggest, your voice wavering as the reality of the situation starts to consume you.
Leigh shakes her head, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I can't,” she murmurs. “I can’t feel good about myself knowing I'm pulling you away from something important to you.”
“But you're what's important to me, Leigh,” you argue weakly.
“That’s not how it works, Y/N,” Leigh says, trying to fight more tears threatening to spill over. “It’s too imbalanced. We don’t need a relationship where one of us is sacrificing too much. That’s not healthy for either of us.”
You sit in stunned silence, her words sinking in. You've always been willing to sacrifice for the people you love, but now you see how it could be a burden for Leigh.
You swallow hard, trying to compose yourself, the words sticking in your throat. “And you think the best for us is to be apart?”
She nods reluctantly. “I think the best for you is to not have to choose between your love and your life's work. I can't ask you to put anything on hold, not for me.”
“But I choose you, Leigh,” you say, tears now streaming down your face. “Doesn't that count for something?”
Leigh can’t help herself any longer. She moves closer, needing to comfort you despite being the source of your pain.
“It does,” she whispers, gently wiping away your tears with her thumb. “It counts for everything. But I need to know that you're not losing yourself to be with me. I can't live with that.”
With that, she pulls you close. You hold each other tightly, falling asleep on the narrow sofa, clinging to each other as if letting go would mean losing everything.
But by the time the sun has risen high in the sky, Leigh is already gone.
-
There are days when you feel bitter about Leigh deciding to break up with you, especially with weeks still left before the tour begins. You oscillate between anger at her decision and a reluctant acceptance that it might have been the right choice for both of you. More often than not, the anger prevails, leading you to drink yourself to sleep, only to wake up the next day to discover that nothing has changed.
Leigh is still leaving.
-
To your surprise, Amy willingly provides you with Leigh's flight itinerary out of Los Angeles. In the days leading up to her departure, you find yourself constantly formulating and discarding plans. Will you show up at the airport and whisk her away? Convince her to change her mind? Perhaps even show up with your own suitcase, ready to join her if you can persuade her at the last minute that she’s making a huge mistake?
Ultimately, none of your scenarios play out. However, you do find yourself at the airport, arriving ten minutes before her boarding gate closes. There, you spot Leigh standing in the lobby with a small suitcase. In that instant, you feel like you’ve accepted—for real this time—her decision to do this on her own.
You watch from the shadows as her gaze darts around as if searching for someone. Your heart swells with a mix of hope and sorrow, realizing she might be looking for you. You stay hidden, watching as she pulls out her phone and dials a number. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket. With your eyes still on her, you answer it.
“Hey, it's me,” Leigh starts awkwardly, as if implying that you might not remember how she sounds. You haven’t spoken to each other in weeks.
“I know it's you,” you reply softly.
“I'm about to board,” she says, and you can hear the reluctance in her voice.
“I see,” you say, struggling to contain the emotions that might slip through the cracks of your nonchalance. “Did you pack some food for the flight?”
She laughs, a tearful sound that squeezes your heart. “Yes, I picked up some donuts.”
“Sounds unhealthy, Ms. Shaw. Try to order some broccoli in-flight,” you tease her lightly.
“I hate broccoli,” she deadpans, her voice layered with a stubbornness you know well.
Then, she asks the harder questions, “Where are you? What are you doing?”
You mull it over, caught between honesty and the need to protect her decision. “I'm just hanging out in the clinic,” you lie, unwilling to reveal that you are there, watching her last moments before departure. “Will you call me when you land?”
She sounds like she wants to protest, but you cut in, “I need to know you're safe. It would really help me to know you're okay out there.”
After a few seconds, she agrees softly, “Okay, I'll call.”
“I’ll wait,” you say. “However long it takes,” you add, leaving the meaning of those words open for her to interpret.
They announce final boarding.
“Listen, I—I have to go,” Leigh says quickly. “Please, take care. Goodbye, Y/N.”
“Goodbye, Leigh,” you manage to say, your voice catching as you watch her walk away.
You end the call and pocket your phone. Watching her wipe away a tear and head towards her gate is almost too much to bear. You allow yourself a moment, a small smile playing on your lips, proud of her courage and saddened by her departure. You’ll be waiting for her call, but if it never comes, you'll understand. These moments don't erase the past several months you've spent getting to know Leigh.
And you wouldn’t trade them for the world.
-
At exactly ten in the evening, Leigh calls you from Boston.
#unbetad#my writing#my fic#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen#leigh shaw x reader#leigh shaw x female reader#leigh shaw#sorry for your loss au#leigh shaw x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility
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