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formulawolff · 4 months

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iv. raising the stakes - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.0k

warnings: cursing, age gap, mentions of divorce, power imbalances, mentions of age gap relationships, sexual references, toto wanting to be with you every second of every day, YEARNING, pining, yadayadayada, the works y'know

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“don’t tell me it’s that fucking nitwit.”

the team principal nearly growls, fury oozing into every single word.

“i haven’t talked to him in a while,” panic starts to flare up, “fuck, fuck, fuck. what do i do?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“ignore him?”

“i can’t do that,” you suck in a breath, “you need to go to my room. just sit on my bed or something until he leaves.”

“scared he’s going to catch on or something?” toto arches a brow, his tone shifting from scorn to a light-hearted tease, “oh schatz, are you worried your little boyfriend won’t like that you’re with another man?”

“no,” you scoff, “you know exactly what would happen if daniel saw both of us. go to my room. stay there until he leaves.”

“fine,” he rolls his eyes, clambering to his feet. he stretches slightly, wincing, “that was not my best idea.”

“that’s what happens when you’re an old man.”

the remark lights a new fire in toto, the austrian licking his lips, “oh don’t worry love, this old man will you show you soon he’s actually–”

“get. in. my. room.” you hiss, scrambling to your feet.

“fine, fine,” he exhales, nodding towards the end of the hall, “i assume that’s it?”

“yes,” you affirm, “just stay there. answer some emails or something.”

“will do,” he whistles, turning on his heel.

once the door to your room closes, you clear your throat. your voice was probably shaky from what just occurred. hell, even your brain felt like it was a pile of mush.

there was not a single thought rattling around, your memory only replaying a constant loop of what just happened.

oh fuck. you realize your shorts were completely soaked. and it was noticeable. although you weren’t going to be opening your legs, you were obviously flustered.

time to act like nothing ever happened.

quickly, you throw a blanket over you, “come in!”

daniel pokes his head in, a bright grin enveloping his face, “hey there, winner, winner!”

“how are you?”

“i’m okay,” he shrugs, crossing over to the couch, “were you watching something? i thought i heard some voices.”

“oh yeah,” you nod fervently, “i was just watching some tik toks before you came in.”

“sorry it’s so late,” daniel fiddles with a loose thread on his shorts, “i figured i would come by after all the press and all that. you must be tired, yeah?”

“a little bit.

“it was a huge day for you,” he points out, “i’m happy for you. i really am. i couldn’t think of anyone who deserved that win more than you.”

you can’t help but feel a grin form, “thank you, danny.”

“also,” he lets out a shaky breath, “i feel like i owe you an explanation why i’ve been so distant this last week.”

“oh daniel you don’t have to–”

“but i do,” he interjects, his voice so quiet you had to lean forward to hear it, “i guess when you asked me that question after bahrain, i was confused. to tell you the truth, i was confused about how my feelings for you. i guess i never really addressed the feelings i had for you until you brought it up. yeah, i do have feelings for you. i am attracted to you. but i can’t act on them because i know that you would never pursue me in that matter. you’ve always seen me as one of your best friends, and that’s okay. i figured i would take a step back so i could heal without hurting you or lashing out. because it’s not your fault, it’s all been one-sided.”

“daniel i–”

“you don’t have to say anything,” he shakes his head, avoiding eye contact, “i had to heal on my own. i had to come to terms without bringing you into it. it would have been immature of me to make you feel like you had to reciprocate the attraction. besides, i feel like you’re attracted to someone else.”

your heart nearly stops beating for a moment, eyes widening, “oh – um, i–”

“you’ve always spoke so highly of carlos, and with the way you look at him, i have a gut feeling you like him.”

you can clearly picture toto in your room, leaning against the door, listening to every word. this meant you had to tread these waters carefully.

very carefully.

“oh daniel,” you begin, “at the moment, i’m not attracted to anyone on the grid. if anything, i see most of you guys like my brothers. it’s the best group of friends i could have ever asked for. if i were to have romantic relationships with any of you guys, i feel like it would diminish the bonds we have. also, i just don’t think it’s very professional. we have to keep things professional, you know?”

“i understand,” daniel’s eyes meet yours, and you can’t help but see nothing but anguish, “i appreciate you, i really do. can we just act like you never asked that question?”

“of course.”

“i love you,” daniel leans forward, scooping you in an embrace, “you’re the best. i’d stay and chat about your big win today, but i bet we’re both exhausted. i’ll text you, okay?”

“okay,” a giggle bubbles up as daniel shakes you back and forth, “i love you too, danny.”

“i’ll see ya around,” he places a swift peck on your temple before getting up, “sleep well. you deserve some rest.”

“you too,” you murmur, waving as the australian strolls out, “see you around.”

“byeeee!”

once the door shuts, you flop backwards, breathing out a sigh of relief.

that seemed to go well.

shooting up, you remember that there was a very large, very handsome austrian man waiting for you in your room. wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, you spring up, nearly jogging down the hall.

pushing open the door, your breath hitches in your throat.

instead of being wide awake, toto is slumped on your bed, limbs sprawled out. light snores fill the air, his chest rising and falling. rays of moonlight cascade into the space, shrouding him with a soft glow.

quietly, you make your way to the bed, discarding your shorts and underwear. after seeing the clothes on the floor, you realize you may as well ditch the top too. peeling it off, you toss it, burrowing under the comforter.

toto stirs, blinking, “how long was i– oh my god.”

you can’t help but smirk as he’s left speechless, mouth agape, eyes nearly as wide as saucers, “not long. daniel only came over for about fifteen minutes.”

“and you didn’t wake me the moment you started taking off your clothes?”

“i didn’t know i was supposed to,” you tease, scooting towards the principal, “you don’t have to leave. you can stay.”

“i don’t know if i should,” light kisses pepper your nose, cheeks, and forehead, “they’re probably all wondering where i ran off to. i’ve been gone awhile and haven’t been answering my texts or calls. if i’m not careful, they might send out a search party.”

“lewis hamilton can’t be without his team principal for one second?”

at your response, toto laughs, his chest vibrating against your shoulder blades, “you’d be surprised. at times i wonder if i adopted him as my own. george too.”

“please?” you roll over, facing him. for extra measure, you jut your bottom lip out, ensuring that your lashes flutter as you blink, “please stay?”

“hmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “what’s my incentive for staying?”

“you know, not everything is a business transaction.”

“i just wanted to hear you beg a little.”

the truth of the matter was that the team principal knew if he stayed, he would be in too deep. even further deeper than he already was.

oh, toto wolff was already weak for you.

but now?

it was far worse than he could ever imagine.

there was just something about you that he couldn’t shake. as you laid beside him, moonlight swathing your figure, he couldn’t resist admiring. fuck, you were just so gorgeous.

however, that was not the only thing that drew him in. your aura alone was attractive enough. confident, radiant, oh so intelligent, and level-headed. also, you were unapologetically yourself. toto needed that. he needed someone to match his energy.

the fact that you were one of the best drivers on the grid was just a bonus to the plethora of qualities that he adored.

of course, there was that ever-present thought looming in his mind.

if a single soul found out about this blossoming relationship, every aspect of his life would come crumbling down.

his children would shun him. he would be let go from his esteemed position at mercedes. the fia would exploit his wrongs in every way imaginable. the media would have an absolute frenzy. his drivers would no longer speak to him.

and susie? oh god.

although there was still a band gleaming on his left finger, the marriage with susie had devolved three years ago. the papers weren’t signed until several months ago, the team principal keeping that matter private. merely for the sake of his ex-wife and children. wearing the band was simply a promise he made with susie for the time being, to keep the public thinking that they were still happily married.

the divorce would be announced at the end of the 2024 season, just so that the media wouldn’t speculate.

although, they already speculated more than he liked.

yet, there was this part of him that urged him to take that risk. to pursue you. to get to know every part of you. to learn, cherish, and love you in every way possible.

you were his golden girl, without a doubt.

a shining ray of light that deserved the world.

and by god, he was more than determined to give you that.

“toto,” your eyes were closed, lashes fluttering as a hand ran through your hair, “can you please stay?”

“if i stay,” the team principal shifted his body, propping himself up with an elbow, “i’m going to have to leave early. probably before sunrise so that i’m not spotted.”

“you could just disguise yourself.”

“right,” a light chuckle flows his lips, “i’ll find a mustache and stick it on. no one would ever dare recognize me then.”

“you think?” fuck, your giggle was going to be the death of him.

“i know,” leaning over, he presses a kiss on your temple, “i’ll stay, schatz. just don’t be disappointed if you wake up and i’m not there. all right?”

“all right,” you nod, sleep slurring your words.

quickly, toto unbuttons his shirt, discarding it to the floor. fuck, it was probably going to be wrinkly in the morning, but he didn’t care. as long as he got to spend a few more hours with you, it would make up for it. standing, he unbuckles his belt, slacks falling to the floor.

pulling the comforter back, he curls up next to you, bringing you close to his chest.

“you know, sixteen-year-old me would be screaming, crying, throwing up, right now.”

“is that right?” his chest rumbles as he laughs, “well, we’ll have create a time machine to let sixteen-year-old you that all of her dreams come true.”

“are you sure you don’t have a crush on me, mr. wolff?”

“like i said before schatz,” his arms squeeze you gently, “crushes are for children.”

“then what is it?”

“we’ll have to find out,” toto found his eyelids drooping as you snuggle closer, “goodnight, golden girl.”

in his heart, toto knew the answer all too well.

if the two of you continued to meet like this, one of you would be bound to want a relationship. with such a bright future ahead for you, would you even want to settle down at mercedes with a man like him? a previously divorced man going through a potential midlife crisis?

additionally, if the two of you continued to meet like this, one of you would be bound to fall in love.

and if that was the case, the stakes would only be higher.

not only would be acquiring one of the best drivers in formula one’s history, he would be acquiring the girl he loved.

and god, was he determined to make that happen.

by any means possible.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @toldyouitwasamelodrama

please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3

#formula 1 #toto wolff #formula one #toto wolff x reader #f1 #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x you #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #daniel ricciardo #toto wolff smut

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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year

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...

#it's so weird trying to describe yourself when u really aren't something u used to be #like until i was probably 21 or so id say i was shy. very very shy. but now im like was that even true? was i ever shy bc im not now #maybe i was just quiet and anxious. maybe thats just what being shy is. but im still both of those things but im not shy #im sorta like a hermit. i dont really go around ppl if i can avoid it but i dont hate being around ppl. its just that im less anxious when #im alone. but if u put me around ppl i like to talk to them so im not shy. ill say whatever. i dont really give a fuck #but if u throw me in a group i go back to being a non entity. i guess thats just being an introvert with an asocial streak #thats a thing i noticed while i was at the grad weekend i attended in march. the group would gather and do things while i kinda just #wandered away from them to poke at trees and sit in the snow. i dunno i just feel better away from ppl. my brain gets a lot louder if ive #been too social. which is a shame bc its interesting to watch ppl and understand how thry work #my friend came over to day goodbye before i leave next week. which was nice. i wish we would have hung out more in person but so it goes #and i think in my head im a lot more contained thst i actually am. like if u set me a task that becomes my focus but im also sorta all over #the place. partly bc i think my brain works on like a lag. and also my mood is a little elevated rn so im sorta like *jazz hands* and #talking too fast and too much and oversharing. yesterday i was instrucing an undergrad and felt so bad bc my brain was all over the place.#could not b made linear. im tired now tho bc theres nothing more draining than being emotionally honest and talking for like 2hrs. woof. it #so hot. like fucking so hot bc the monsoons have started and humidity is up so my swamp cooler is fucked and its gotta b at least 80 degree #inside my apartment. holy christ. and the temp has been over 100 degrees for like at least 2 weeks. its so hot its kinda alarming. and im #glad my friend was also freaked out by how hot its been bc oh god its hot. and i cant focus. ive done fuck all today. but i did get rid of #couch which is so so so great. ugh. someone make the sun stop making it so hot #unrelated #its been over 100 degrees outside for like 2 weeks. not on my apartment #and when i say i wish i spent more time with my friend irl. i mean it in a distant sort of way. like thats how im supposed to feel. like i #dont kno if thats actually what i feel or i kno im supposed to b social but idk if i actually mean it

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rintoorou · 2 months

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ALOHA, HAWAII — iv. you meet people twice

(wc: 780-ish…)

the sound of a telephone ringing wakes you from your slumber.

head still buried deep in the pillows, you blindly reach for the handset and hold it up to your ear. “hello?”

“good morning, ms. sakusa! were you able to settle in all right?”

“yes, thank you,” you reply groggily, pulling the duvet closer with your free hand. still tired from the flight, you vaguely remember the golf cart ride to your lodging, the staff helping you with your luggage before bidding you goodnight, and crashing on the bed as soon as you shut the door closed.

“i was just calling to inform you that the guest in the complimentary suite arrived last night." your eyelids flutter open at this; you remember asking the front desk a favor too. ever since kiyoomi told you that his fiancé asked a friend of his to help you with the wedding preparations, you couldn’t help but feel anxious. atsumu wouldn’t ask him, right? those in your small college circle knew how bad your relationship got—from irritated glares sent across the room to hurtful jabs disguised as jokes. they noticed how you started arriving to get-togethers separately until you eventually just stopped coming. on the day after graduation, you removed all your mutual friends from your socials and blocked him.

even so, you hoped atsumu still held some sort of friendly affection for you and be considerate enough to not ask him, but just to ease your nerves, you asked the receptionist to call and let you know when his friend arrives.

“he arrived around an hour after you did, actually. we didn’t call in case you were already asleep.”

“that’s alright. thanks for letting me know.”

“no problem, ms. sakusa! let us know if you need anything else." the call ends with a dull beep before you finally pull yourself up to sit. you flip over your phone to check for any messages, but the image of a dead battery flashes on the screen.

you check the clock on the nightstand; it’s 9:41 AM. figuring it’s not too early for atsumu’s friend to be awake, you plug your phone into the charger and head to the bathroom for a shower.

it’s warmer outside than in your cabin, but the refreshing summer breeze makes up for it. unlike the rain, you enjoy the soft glow of the sun on your skin and the way it almost instantly makes you feel at ease. a staff member greets you as you pass, and you smile back. it only takes you a few strides until you’re standing in front of an oak door similar to your own. you take in a small breath and tentatively knock three times.

you wait for a bit, though you don’t hear anyone on the other side of the door. he’s probably still asleep.

you step back to leave, but the front door swings wide open. “oh, good mor—”

your words falter as you take in the disheveled man in front of you. even with the sleep still evident in his eyes and an unkempt shirt revealing just a little bit of his collarbone, you instantly recognize those narrowed green eyes staring back at you.

“what the—”

“fuck,” suna curses, his eyes widening, “what the hell are you doing here?”

you draw in a sharp breath, “what the hell am i doing here?! what the hell are you doing here?”

“i’m helping atsumu with his wedding.”

“i’m…” you take a moment to process his reply, then it hits you. suna is the friend who’s supposed to assist you with the wedding; at the same time, he realizes that you’re the relative atsumu was talking about. of fucking course.

he lets out a bitter scoff as he tears his eyes away from you, immediately making your eye twitch. it takes so much of you to resist the urge to hit him right then and there.

“you’re going to turn this wedding to shit.”

“then by all means, leave. aren't you good at that?”

“oh, i know when it’s right to walk away.”

the glares you send one another are intense, harsh and fiery. unresolved anger and frustration from the breakup and years of not seeing each other come rushing back, leaving neither one of you willing to back down.

you tell yourself to be the bigger person, but you simply cannot stand to look at him any longer. “stay the hell away from me, suna.”

his eyes narrow, “ditto.”

the door slams shut just as you spin on your heels, fists clenched as you march back to your cabin. kiyoomi (and maybe atsumu) better have a damn good explanation for this because there’s no way in hell you’re working with your asshole of an ex.

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soxcietyy · 7 months

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hii, can i req a older bf + soft dom yuuta please?

Biker Yuta

Age gap, soft dom, Yuta being fine af in general

It was almost every night, the exact time at 1:30 am where a loud bike would pass by your house. It was so loud that it would wake you up from the deep slumber you where in.

At first you didn't think much about it when you first moved into your new house but now its been months and you kept hearing that loud bike zoom by. At some point you grew tired of it and decided tonight was the night you would confront whoever this selfish individual was. There was tones of roads that person could go on and he decided your street was the one to travel on every night? Did this person not have a job?

Grabbing your coat you slip it on and walk out in your pajama’s that consisted on small shorts and a tanktop. Checking the time on your phone you noticed it was five minutes till one. Walking out the door you stand by the mailbox with your arms crossed. The passing cars probably thinking that you weren't fully right in the head. After a few minutes of standing there you could hear the loud bike from a distance.

How where you supposed to get this person attention? you had no clue but decided to find out once it was time. As the bike got louder you step into the middle of the road. When the vehicle came into view you had to shut your eyes from how bright there headlights. Using your hand to cover your eyes from the light you could feel two hands grab you and pulled you to the side. With a gasp you turn around to see them?!

What was the biker doing here? shouldn't he be the one...

before you could finish that though a car zoomed by extremely fast. Then it hit you, you could of almost died mistaking that car for the biker.

"what are you doing in the middle of the road like that? you could of gotten hurt." A male voice said from behind that helmet.

"I thought it was you!" you say grabbing you heart that almost popped out of your chest

"Me? either way you shouldnt be doing that. Arnt you supposed to be in bed at this time?" He asks as he sat you down on his bike.

"yea i actually am but a loud bike likes to go through my neighborhood, waking me and everyone else up! Do you know how much sleep iv lost because of you?" you say angrily.

grabbing his helmet with both hands he slowly takes it off and shakes his helmet hair before looking at you. "Im sorry I didn't know i was bothering people with my late night rides." he says. "Im usually coming out of work at that time and well this is the way I go to make it home.

"Well how about being more quiet? I would hate for us to have issues." You put your hand on your hip.

"Issues? Now I don’t think that’s necessary. How about I make it up to you?" He mocks you by putting his hand on his hip too.

"How will you make it up to me? Do you know how much beauty sleep iv lost because of you?" You quirk your brow.

"Well before I even give you an answer I need to know about you such as name and age."

"My name is y/n and I’m nineteen." You answer.

"Seven years apart mmh, well how about you let me relieve all that stress you got pent up? If you know what I mean. My name is Yuta by the way." He places his helmet under his arm.

27 and he looks young? He’s also not bad looking at all. It wouldn’t hurt to try something with someone more experienced than you. "Sure but I would hate for your back to give out in the middle of it." You hum

"Hey I’m not that old, let’s see who’s back gives out first huh?" He chuckled as he followed you back to your shared house.

Your roommate was luckily out of town for the week so you had the whole house to yourself. It didn’t take long until he was over you. Smothering you with kisses and the string cologne he wore that smelled rich of leather. His bangs touching your forehead as they dangled over you. He still held his helmet in his hand before he dropped it so he could get a better hold of you.

The kisses were fast but deep. It was almost as if he was so desperate to get a taste of you. As he continued to kiss you his gloved hands snaked under your shirt and fondled your breast. You couldn’t lie and say he didn’t look fine with his blacked out gear. If you knew he looked like this you would have confronted him long ago.

Pulling you closer to him he removed your bottoms and his right hand glove. "Want me to teach you how a real grown man should treat a lady?" He whispers in your ear before sliding his fingers in you.

He long fingers bend and move around inside of you. He made sure to touch every spot causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. Biting your bottom lip you shake your head unconsciously. You didn’t even noticed when he crouched down and began to eat you out. That was until your legs began to shake uncontrollably.

"Yuta" you moan

Hmm? He Hums causing you to jolt from the sudden vibration. Why was he so good at this? Could it be his years of experience? Whatever it was you wanted to thank everything that made it possible for him to be with you tonight. He was eating you out so sloppily that the noises echoed in the room. His tongue glided side to side on your clit as his fingers moved in and out of you. You gripped his hair as you got closer to your orgasm. His other hand grabbed your thigh so you wound the able to escape his grasp.

When you started orgasming you moaned his name once again. Tears rolling down your face from how good it was.

Turning you over on your stomach you could hear him unbuckling his belt. Tilting your head back you could see him adjusting himself to your entrance.

"Arnt you going to take your clothes off?" You ask him wondering why he was fully clothed.

"Wouldn’t want to distract you from the main event." He smacks his hard member on your behind.

He then leaned over you and grabbed your face directing you to look at your pile of stuffed animals in a corner.

"Arnt you too old for those things?" He says amused.

"You can never be too old for stuffed animals" you mumble.

Without saying another word he slammed right into you. Your eyes widen at the feeling of being filled up. You don’t think you’ve ever had something this big inside of you. Squeezing your eyes shut you feel how he slides in and out of you smoothly.

"There you go, you’re taking me so well. Thought you would have been crying for me to stop." He says as he quickens his pace. You grip onto your blankets as he slams in and out of you. Each thrust getting deeper and harder. You could hear him breathing heavily next to you ear. You could also heard how the necklaces and chain that he wore cling together with every move. His non gloved hand moved under you and began to pull on your nipple as he continued with his pace.

"You just so cute." He says as he kisses your head, your cheek and your shoulder. "I think I’m gonna start bothering you even more if it mean we get to do this everytime." He mumbles. "Not going to lie I was having second thought about this but I’m so glad I went along. You feel so fucking perfect around my cock." He wraps his arms around your body and slams you all the way into him until he reached places you never thought were possible.

Your jaw drops as he doesn’t let go. Your eyes rolling back at this new painful yet pleasurable feeling. "Yuu" you cry out trying to catch your breath but him hearing you say his name like that turned a switch on for him. He fucked you while you were still being lifted up. Your feet not being able to touch the ground as he used you like his personal cock sleeve. You squirm in his arms being overwhelmed by everything but he held a tight grip on you. At some point you stopped trying and gave in. Your toes curling as you orgasmed once again coating his member in white.

"Easy now, just bear with me for a minute I’m almost there." He groans.

After a few more slams he finally finished inside of you.

He placed you back down slowly and collapsed on top of you. Breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath.

"Fuck, are you On birth control? Or do you need me to get you a plan B?"

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starry622 · 1 year

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Please Help Out a Homeless and Disabled Trans Man (URGENT)

unfortunately, i, too have to extend my paw for money. at the ripe age of 19.

i have been functionally homeless for over a year, but ive managed to stay off the streets due to who i once thought was a kind and caring family member, but he has finally said the quiet part out loud:"im sick and tired of you being here, im gonna have to kick your ass out". hes given me a very rough estimate of just longer than a week, though i think i can extend my stay a little longer than that.

once im out, ill have no money, no shelter, and ill be stuck in the middle of nowhere. i cannot work a normal job due to disability, so i cant make money in that way. Anything at all helps.

i am unable to make a gofundme, as i dont own a phone, and he will not provide me with one, but i accept donations via paypal <-link if youll notice, it is a business account, and this is because i take commissions. if youd rather pay me in exchange for art, you can message me.

for visibility, here is the full link:

more info under cut:

even if i were allowed to stay, this family member has not been the best person to live with, put lightly. He does seem to really care, but hes old-fashioned. hes also once taken advantage of me and has also forced me to conform to my agab, which includes forcing me to shave and pressuring me to stop taking my testosterone, to the point where he wont pay for it if i dont promise to wean off of it. i would much rather be anywhere else, if i had the choice. and soon, i wont have a choice on the matter.

i dont have a specific amount of money in mind, there is no specified goal. i will have to go back to my mother, and i will have to live with her on the streets, as she is also homeless, though shes seemingly on the brink of getting an apartment that i will be allowed to live in, if she can get it before someone else does or before the process has to be renewed.

i will mainly use the money for my healthcare needs (testosterone) as well as for food and hopefully housing, if i make enough to help with that.

its okay if you cant donate, but please share if possible. i dont want to be back on the street, alone, and in a city im not familiar with. even just a little bit could help me cover the cost of going back to the city i once lived in and reuniting with my mother, who will undoubtedly help me more than anyone will ever know.

#mutual aid #paypal #donations

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ginnsbaker · 6 months

Text

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (5/?)

Part summary: With Leigh, it feels like for every step forward, you end up taking two steps back.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.600+ | Warnings Some angst, het stuff | A/N: Texts in italic indicate they happened in the past. We get an insight about R's past with Matt and a little surprise at the end.

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Next part

You'd hardly expect to meet a decent guy on the street nowadays.

Though, to be fair, it's less about meeting him and more about running straight into him. At the moment, you don't give it much thought. You distinctly remember wincing from the impact, feeling solid muscle and jutting bones, and a surge of irritation bubbles up inside you because you're not exactly having the best day. But then, the man you ran into looks up, and his face is all apologies.

He looks like he might cry if you don't forgive him, so you do. As you stand there, trying to process the situation, he notices the coffee spilled all over the floor—your coffee, which has now created a sad, dark puddle around your feet.

“Can I buy you another coffee?”

Despite the kind gesture, you find yourself shaking your head, more keen on changing out of your coffee-stained coat than sticking around any longer.

From a few steps away, his impatient friend calls out, “Are you coming, Matt?”

“Yeah, just wait a sec,” Matt responds, his attention still on you. You usually don’t trust men running into you without an agenda, but there’s something about him that tells you he didn’t mean to, and that he’s more than willing to make up for it.

“No, thanks. I got it…”

He looks unnecessarily worried as he leans in a bit closer. “You sure about that?” he asks.

His brown eyes are the friendliest pair you’ve seen in a while. And being essentially alone in this new town, they pull you in like gravity.

“Y-Yes. Just watch where you’re going next time,” you stammer, attempting to stabilize your shaky legs.

“Matt!”

Matt nods hesitantly, then mumbles, “Sorry, I have to go. Again, I'm really sorry,” before his gaze releases you, and you feel its force that held you in a vice-like grip easing away.

As you're walking away, you keep having to tell yourself not to look over your shoulder, even though every part of you kind of wants to.

You guess you must be really lonely, to cling onto the first bit of kindness someone throws your way.

Your deliberate attempts to bump into Leigh finally pay off one brisk Friday morning. But it’s not in the way you’ve imagined it would go.

The town is just waking up, the chill in the air biting at your cheeks as you take your routine jog through the quiet streets. You've discovered that running suits you better than yoga, mainly because it's something you can do solo, and you've always leaned towards activities where you can be by yourself. You’re tired, but you try to lift your knees higher with every stride, keeping your cadence in check.

Turning a corner, a sudden commotion catches your attention. A group of rowdy teenagers barrel down the sidewalk, loud and oblivious to anything but their own world. One of them, a bit too caught up in the fun, nearly crashes into you, forcing you to swerve unexpectedly.

In your effort to dodge, you step right into the path of Leigh Shaw.

It all happens too fast; there's no chance for either of you to do anything else. You crash into each other, the impact sending a jolt through your bodies. You tumble sideways, your arm shooting out instinctively, breaking your fall and softening the impact as you land. Leigh lets out a sharp yelp as she staggers forward from the force of the collision, a look of shock quickly spreading across her face. As she falls, her knee scrapes against the rough concrete, and when she finally sits up, there's a noticeable gash, bleeding freely.

“Oh my god, I am so, so sorry,” you blurt out, horrified at the sight. “Are you okay? Can you stand?”

She grimaces, glancing at her knee, then back at you. “Well, I've definitely been better,” she says, trying to keep her voice light despite the pain. You give her a hand up, and as she leans on you for support, you can't help but notice she's dressed in denim shorts, a blue parka, and flip-flops—not exactly the attire for a morning jog. The sun's just starting to show its face, and you're left wondering where she's headed so early, if she's not out for a run or something.

Looking around, you notice the roll-up shutters of nearby establishments are still down, indicating they won't be opening anytime soon. It’s apparent that there's nowhere immediate to find help or a first-aid kit. You scratch the back of your neck, an awkward idea coming to you.

“I don’t think there’s nowhere we can ask for help,” you start, trying not to sound too anxious about what you’re about to suggest. “I've got a first-aid kit at my place, though. It's not far. We could fix you up there, if you're okay with it?”

Leigh takes a beat, and then gives you a nod. “I guess that's my best option right now. Lead the way.”

As you start walking, Leigh instinctively grabs your arm for support. Your foot have barely hit the pavement when she suddenly grips tighter, fingers clawing into your arm as she lets out a hiss of pain. The wound must have stretched as she bent her knee to take a step, and with the way she's limping, you realize making her walk is a bad call.

“Shit, I'm really sorry,” you apologize again, the situation dawning on you. This isn't at all how you wanted to run into Leigh again, especially after trying to find a way to reconnect since the dinner in her car. “Let me get an Uber.”

Leigh starts to object, but you're already pulling out your phone. The last thing you wanted was for your attempt to help to end up hurting her more.

“So, where were you headed earlier?” you ask casually, hoping not to pry too much. “Doesn't seem like you were out for a run like I was.”

Leigh’s injury is more severe than you first thought; after hitting a rough patch on the pavement, her knee took the brunt of the fall. The skin is scraped away in several places, revealing angry, reddened flesh beneath.

“Grocery, or something,” Leigh mumbles, distracted and wincing a bit as you ready another dab of antiseptic for her knee. The moment the cotton touches the wound, she can't help but jerk away slightly.

“Sorry, sorry,” you murmur, soothingly, noticing she's struggling to stay still. To help steady her, you gently hold onto her calf, and that's when you feel your cheeks start to warm up. “I'll be as quick as I can,” you promise, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

“I’m okay. You're doing...fine,” Leigh sighs between clenched teeth, obviously trying to downplay her discomfort.

You know you're not fine, certainly not in the way Leigh means. All you can hear is yours and Leigh’s breathing, and your heart stuttering in your chest, because despite barely seeing Leigh in recent weeks, this annoying little crush won’t go away. It’s weird enough that she’s Matt’s wife, and you can't shake the feeling that you’re probably the last person she’d ever look at that way. Not to mention, you're not even sure if she's into women.

Once you’re done cleaning her wound, you carefully wrap a bandage around her knee. Then, you head to the fridge to grab some ice, noticing Leigh's puzzled look when you return.

“What’s that for?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.

“I have a feeling you're going to have a bone bruise after that fall,” you explain, handing her the ice wrapped in a cloth. “This should help with the pain and keep the swelling down.”

She accepts it, a small smile of gratitude on her face as she says, “Thanks.”

“No problem, it's my fault anyway.”

“It was an accident,” Leigh points out.

An accident that, if I'm being honest with myself, I was somewhat hoping for, you reflect with regret.

Leigh looks relieved as she presses the ice against her knee, eyes closing for a moment. With the immediate pain taken care of, you can't help but wonder again where she was headed earlier as you start pulling ingredients out of the fridge to whip up some breakfast.

“Hope you're hungry,” you say, flashing a smile as you fire up the stove.

“I'm fine, really,” she says, but the moment the bacon starts sizzling, she caves. “Actually, I could eat.”

With your back to her, you could smirk all you want at her change of heart. After frying up the bacon and eggs, you pull out some leftover rice and begin chopping garlic.

“What are you making?” Leigh asks suddenly from behind you.

“This is something I picked up on my travels through Southeast Asia,” you share as you cook. “Can't do bacon and eggs without it anymore. But I'll get some toast going for you.”

Leigh's face lights up, almost childlike. “Toast sounds great.”

You and Leigh settle into your meal, you with your plate of garlic rice, bacon, and eggs, and Leigh with her toast done just right alongside her bacon and eggs. She surprises you by complimenting how you cooked the eggs, noticing they're slightly burnt to a crisp around the edges.

“I've never had my eggs quite like this before,” she says.

“Oh, that?” you chuckle. “Learned the technique by accident some time ago. Got distracted and ended up leaving them on the heat a bit too long.”

She laughs too, and soon enough, you're both just talking like old friends, the conversation breezy and effortless. You begin to get a real sense of Leigh's sense of humor and it complements yours in the best way. Leigh loops back to when you mentioned visiting Southeast Asia, and you're more than happy to share your experiences, considering she's never left the country.

“...I’m pretty sure Hawaii counts, right? With the weather and everything, plus it’s really far—”

You’re still cracking up over some joke she made moments ago, and now you’re wondering if you’ll ever stop.

“No way, Leigh, it doesn’t work like that!” you get out between laughs, holding onto your stomach as you shake with laughter.

The more you talk, the more Leigh hangs on every word, making you feel surprisingly at ease. Sharing stories about places you've been and things you've seen becomes less about bragging and more about just sharing your adventures with someone who’s really listening. It's kind of refreshing, actually, feeling this free to dive into your memories with someone so interested.

That is until the topic eventually shifts to your fitness routine. It's then that Leigh offhandedly mentions, “You'll probably see more progress with the new instructor next week. I heard she’s got a certificate and all.”

You pause, fork paused mid-air. “New instructor? You’re not leading the class next week?”

Leigh simply shakes her head no.

“Then, when are you coming back?”

Leigh takes a breath before saying, “I actually quit.”

Hearing her say she’s left the studio nearly makes you spit out your breakfast. You're halfway through a bite, trying to wrap your head around the news, when suddenly, Leigh checks her phone. Before you can even dive into a million questions about why she quit, she's saying she needs to head home.

Your thoughts are spinning, but you don’t miss the opportunity to offer her a ride.

“You drive?” Leigh looks surprised.

“Yeah, just got the car this weekend,” you manage to say, still reeling from the shock that Leigh won't be at Beautiful Beast anymore.

“Are you sure? I can just call a cab,” Leigh mutters, probably noticing you're a bit out of it.

“No, really, I insist,” you say. Making her walk on that knee seems like the last thing you should do.

Leigh tries to brush it off once more, “Again, an accident.”

You ignore her, grabbing your keys from a dusty fishbowl. “Doesn't mean I won't be kicking myself over it.”

She lets out a sigh, and you can't quite tell if she's resigned or just annoyed.

As you pull up in front of Leigh's house for the first time, you're immediately taken in by its typical three-bedroom layout. The lawn, however, looks like it hasn't seen a mower in quite some time, giving the place a lived-in, somewhat neglected feel. You quickly get out of the car to help Leigh to the front step.

Then, out of nowhere, Leigh curses, patting down her pockets in a panic. “Fuck, I forgot my keys.”

“But someone should be home, right?” you ask.

Leigh rings the doorbell, her expression turning sour. “Yeah, my sister,” she mutters, clearly not thrilled at the prospect.

You're taken aback when, a few seconds later, it's Jules from the studio who opens the door. The sharp look they exchange isn't lost on you; it's clear there's more to the story than just Leigh coming home without her keys. You're gearing up to say goodbye, assuming Leigh will head inside, but instead, she turns to you and says, “Wait right here.”

You do as she says, glancing at the ground, shuffling your feet back and forth.

“Hi, I'm Jules, Leigh's sister. I've seen you around at Beautiful Beast. You're one of Leigh's clients?” Jules smiles at you, politely offering a hand for you to shake. You accept it and introduce yourself in return. Watching her face, you see the moment she puts it all together.

“Oh, you're the vet who Matt had—I'm sorry. It's just, I wasn't expecting to see you here, helping Leigh home.”

You knew where that first sentence was going, but you're silently thankful Jules decided to pull back and not finish it. You force a smile as you explain how you got here. “She was out for groceries, and I kind of ran into her, leading to a bit of a fall, and now—”

“No, she wasn’t,” Jules cuts in sharply.

“Sorry?”

“Leigh didn't come home last night,” she says. But before you have a chance to process this new information, Leigh returns, clutching a fifty-dollar bill.

“For the trouble,” she tells you, getting in front of Jules.

You attempt to wave it off. “Hey, you don't have to do that—”

But Leigh isn't taking no for an answer, she presses the bill into your hand. You never see it coming what happens next: she plants a quick peck on your cheek, effectively shutting down any further protests. The spot where her lips brushed against your skin tingles, and it’s all you can think about for a moment. Without waiting for you to react properly, Leigh starts herding Jules back inside the house, throwing over her shoulder a quick, “Thanks again, Y/N. Bye.”

You're left there, holding the bill in one hand, touching your cheek with the other, and staring at the closed door, suddenly very aware of how little you actually know about what's going on in Leigh's life.

Suzie shoots you that knowing look again as you head out of the clinic decked out in your active gear.

This time, a blush creeps up on your cheeks, memories of your chat with her about someone “making those sweat sessions worth it” floating back, and you try your best not to let your thoughts drift to Leigh. But then it hits you that she won't be there. Despite your dedication, the sheer excitement of going to the studio isn't quite what it used to be without her as your instructor.

Just as Suzie is about to lock up, the door bursts open. A man rushes in, cradling a small dog in his arms, panic written all over his face. He explains, breathless, that his pet is struggling with labor.

Suzie looks back at you. “I could call Foreman for this,” she says, already reaching for her phone. You stand there for a second, deliberating. Leigh won't be at the class; she's no longer at the Beautiful Beast.

Then, making up your mind, you hold out a hand to stop Suzie. “No, there’s no need. I've got this.”

It feels like you've just walked into one of those old-timey romantic movies, where chivalry isn’t dead and everything turns out way better than you could've ever hoped. In hindsight, it’s better. Because it’s real, and you're right in the middle of it, living a dream you didn't even know you had, with the kind of guy you thought only existed in those movies.

The night air is cool and light, brushing against your skin as the car slows to a stop in front of your apartment. To say the least, it's been an unexpected evening for a first date, and easily one of the best.

As Matt pulls up to your building, he turns to you, a sheepish grin lighting up his face. “Well, here we are,” he says, as if surprised you've arrived so soon.

You don’t want to say goodbye. Not yet. So you stay put in the passenger seat, doing your best to draw out the last strands of the evening.

“So, Nick was the mastermind behind all this?” you tease, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you two.

Matt chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, about that... I had no clue he asked for your number until he handed it to me and said, ‘You owe me one’.”

“He’s the perfect wingman, then?”

“I guess you could say that,” Matt agrees, smiling. “I didn't tell him about my interest in you, but Nick knew anyway. He's good at reading people, always has been.”

“I see,” you say, your gaze following the contours of his cheeks, which carry a soft pink blush. It could be from the red wine you both enjoyed at dinner, or, you find yourself hoping, it might be because of you. “Well, he has my thanks. I really thought he was the one interested in me though.”

Matt laughs, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. “No, it was always me. Since the moment I, uh, ran into you.”

There’s a moment where you both just stare at each other, tacitly acknowledging the serendipity of it all—the accidental meeting that could've ended with a simple apology and nothing more.

Yet here you are.

“You know, I'm glad it was you,” you profess, feeling a boldness that usually isn't there.

Matt breaks into a huge grin, but it's really in his eyes where you can see just how happy your remark has made him.

“Would you... maybe want to do this again? Without the running into each other part, I mean,” he says softly.

You laugh, nodding. “I'd like that. Just maybe start with coffee next time. And no spilling.”

“Deal,” he says, his grin infectious.

As you step out of the car, a proposition forms in your mind and you backtrack.

“Would you like to get that coffee now?”

Sometimes, you find yourself dreaming about your memories with Matt, particularly the part Leigh interrogated you about. Even though you stuck to the facts, you couldn't shake off the feeling that you were somehow deceiving her.

You wonder if this is why you haven't been able to sleep for days. That, coupled with the fact that you've been handling emergencies yourself instead of calling Foreman as you used to. Suzie has mentioned that since you're taking on all the emergency cases, you might be overcompensating your intern. You don’t tell Suzie though that your work has become a welcome distraction from the realization that your new hobby no longer holds your interest, leaving you with extra hours to fill before returning to the solitude of your apartment.

And without seeing Leigh, there’s only your own head to get your fill of her. You find yourself thinking about her now and then, about what she's been doing, wondering if she's found a new job after leaving her yoga instructor position. She crosses your mind at the most random hours of the day, take right now, for example—staring at this little 8-day-old Shih Tzu puppy in the incubator, its fur somehow has you thinking of Leigh's hair color.

The puppy was part of a litter brought in for a C-section. Tragically, its mother didn't survive, and the owner, possibly overwhelmed by the situation and the impending bills, abandoned them. Out of four puppies, this one, the runt of the litter, was the sole survivor.

“What are we going to do with you, huh?” you muse aloud, the puppy blinking back with innocent eyes. “I can't take you for myself; you'd just end up living here in the clinic with me. And let's be honest, living in a hospital can't be much fun, right? It’s not safe either, exposes you to diseases.”

You sigh, brushing its length with your forefinger. “The other choice is to send you to a shelter. I'm sure someone would fall head over heels for you and adopt you in no time. But,” you sigh, your heart heavy, “I can't guarantee that'll happen quickly, as much as we both might want it to.”

“Finding where you fit in this big world isn't easy, you know? It's like searching for that one place, or that one person, where you could simply just… belong to. But I guess when you finally find it, it feels like winning the lottery, right?”

The puppy makes a noise, automatically bringing a smile to your lips. You wonder if Leigh has ever thought of the same thing—about searching for where she belongs after losing her home and everything familiar when Matt passed away. Perhaps it's even scarier for her. The thought of finding that one thing that's uniquely ours, only to lose it forever. What if we're only given one thing that's truly meant for us?

And once it's gone, what does that leave us with?

One sleepless night, after deciding to bring the puppy home for a more personal touch in its care, a thought crosses your mind. What if you could restore some of what was inadvertently taken from Leigh? Maybe bring back a piece of home and purpose that seemed to have slipped through her fingers when her world turned upside down?

It’s true, the puppy's late-night energy partly nudged the thought your way, but deep down, you believe Leigh will be perfect for him. You're sure she'll adore him, and he's bound to love her just as much.

Just as you're settling back to attempt sleep again, your phone starts ringing. You blink at the screen, disbelief washing over you as you see it's Leigh calling—the same woman you've recently realized you have feelings for, and who's been on your mind just moments ago. A part of you wonders if she dialed the wrong number by mistake, but it keeps ringing, compelling you to answer.

“Leigh?” you answer, the name almost a question in itself.

On the other end, you hear her take a deep breath—an ironic move given how the call exudes a vibe of urgency. Then, she speaks, her voice clear yet carrying an undercurrent of something you can't quite place.

“Y/N Are you available to talk right now?”

“Yeah, I am. What's going on—”

“No, not on the phone. Can you meet me right now?”

You glance down at yourself, noting your sleep shorts and tee. You're so comfortable and cozy in bed, and the puppy had just gotten to sleep. It's tempting to reschedule this some other time. But the thought of Leigh Shaw on the other end of the line, coupled with the worrying nature of her request, tilts the balance. The idea of saying no, only to find out something bad happened to her, is something you know you wouldn’t forgive yourself for.

“Yes, I can meet you,” you say, hurrying your movements and snatching your jacket from the cabinet. “Where?”

The date doesn't end with just late-night coffee.

Matt's hand is on your ass, fingers digging in like he owns the place. You’re gripping his tie, pulling him in, again and again. Both of you are still wearing all your clothes, but they're starting to feel like barriers as you both lean into each other, striving to get as close as humanly possible.

The invitation for a nightcap, decaffeinated per his request, had both of you sitting a bit too close on the couch, sharing silly smiles over steaming cups as if you were already lost in love. When the cups were drained, conversation drifted dangerously towards the topic of sex, and that's when you caught yourself staring at Matt's lips. Before he had a chance to react, you were going for it, giving into weeks of pent-up sexual tension.

Matt's lips find their way to your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Encouraged by the heat of the moment, your fingers start to work on the buttons of Matt's shirt, eager to explore further.

But then his hands caught yours.

“W-Wait…”

You’re stunned, pulling back almost reflexively, feeling a bit embarrassed as you tried to figure out if you crossed a line.

“Did I... do something wrong?” you ask.

Matt shakes his head and then kisses you on the forehead. He further reassures you by saying, “No, no, it's not you. I just think we might be rushing things a bit. I really like you, and I want us to be sure about this, you know?”

Inside, you’re a mess of wants and needs, but as much as you want him tonight, you realize you want him even more tomorrow, and the day after. You won't rush this, especially if he's not ready. So, you nod, squashing down the throbbing between your legs as you try to concentrate on anything but his half-open shirt.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything,” he adds, wearing that apologetic look on his face that got you the first time.

In response, you hold Matt's face gently, giving him a quick, soft kiss on the lips. “I really like you too,” you say, despite feeling like those words pale in comparison to what you truly feel for him.

Standing up, you figure he'll say his goodbyes and head out. But instead, Matt looks up at you, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

“I don't want to rush things,” he repeats. “But, I also don't really want to leave just yet. Would it be okay if I stayed the night?”

The request takes you by surprise, a warm fluttering sensation bubbling up inside you at the thought of him wanting to stay. “Of course, you can stay,” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. “But I hope you're okay with the couch.”

Matt laughs and starts pulling off his socks. “There's nowhere else I'd rather be.”

Ever since Leigh asked to meet at a gas station on the sketchier side of town, your anxiety hasn't settled. It's a part of town known for trouble, somewhere you'd rather not be, especially in the dead of night. It doesn’t matter, because you’re hopelessly driven by concern and an unspoken affection that won't let you say no to her, no matter the time or place.

You walk up to the convenience store next to the gas station, its fluorescent lights flickering ominously, almost like you've just stepped into the opening scene of a horror movie. It's dead silent, aside from a radio playing inside the store, turned up by the person manning it in a feeble attempt to fill the silence or maybe to keep company. Leigh is inside, visible through the large, pane-glass window, nursing a coffee, alone. The way she's standing, something's off.

You make your way towards her, hands buried deep in the comfort of your hoodie's pockets.

“Hey—”

She's like a coiled spring at the sound of your voice. That should’ve been your first clue.

“Why did you lie?” Leigh asks point-blank.

“Leigh, I—What do you mean?”

Leigh's face twists into a grimace that chills you to the bone, a clear sign that tonight's going down one of two paths: either you both find a way through this mess, or she cuts you out for good. But you're lost, genuinely clueless about any lie she's accusing you of. You've been straight with her, at least you think you have.

Her nostrils flare, her eyes burning holes into you as she waits for some sort of confession. But all you can give her is a dumbfounded look.

After a while, Leigh's patience wears thin. “We're not doing this here,” she growls, glaring at the lone store clerk, who seems amused and makes no attempt to hide his interest in eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Leigh, I seriously don't know what you're talking about.”

“Just come with me,” she snaps, ushering you back outside, pulling at your arm with a grip that leaves no room for argument. It's painful, the way her nails dig into your skin, but you suppose you deserve it, whatever it might be. If it helps her release her anger, you're willing to bear it.

Leigh stops, plants her hands on her hips, and just looks at you, like she's waiting for something to click in your head. “Leigh, please—” you start, but you're cut off not by her anger this time, but by the sight of her eyes glistening, fighting back tears.

“You're really going to make me say it?” she manages to choke out, before giving a humorless laugh and running a frustrated hand over her face. Before you can protest again, she thrusts a phone into your hand. It's lit up, a text conversation open and waiting. As you scroll through the messages, your mouth opens in shock. They're from Matt.

Skimming through the texts, your jaw nearly hits the ground. He's recounting your first date, detailing how the night ended with him at your place. He admits nothing happened, but not for a lack of desire. Instead, he confesses he held back because he's still wrestling with the fact that he's married to Leigh. He mentions wanting to make sure when he jumps in with you, he's not dragging any “chains” along.

He goes on, saying he felt you were on the same page, ready to go further, and implies the only reason things didn't heat up was because he had self-control. Reading this, you can't decide if Matt's just showing off or if he's trying to justify his half-steps to whoever's reading this on the other end.

“Whose phone is this?” you blurt out, the only question that registers in your brain. It turns out to be the wrong thing to say, though, as it’s precisely the spark that ignites Leigh's fury, sending it cascading over the edge.

“Don’t fucking change the subject!”

You press your lips into a thin line, your own frustration simmering. “I didn't lie to you, Leigh.” You wave the phone with Matt’s messages like some kind of proof, arguing, “He even says here nothing happened!”

“It's not just about what did or didn't happen!” she fires back, her eyes blazing. “You wanted it to happen. You were ready to go there with him. You wanted more, and you're still not owning up to it.”

At this point, keeping your emotions under wraps isn't an option anymore.

“Yes! Of course, I wanted to go there with him,” you explode, your hands coming up in the air in surrender. “I found him attractive, thought he was a great guy, and—single, Leigh! I thought he was single when I was falling for him, okay? Are you happy now?”

Leigh's response is to laugh, but it's not a happy sound. It's bitter, mocking, and it just keeps going.

You're standing there, breathing hard, your breath visible in the chilly air, when it hits you why she’s so upset: When you were telling her the details of your affair, you made it sound as if what happened—or almost happened—was just a casual fling. And Leigh, she just soaked up that version. In doing so, she somehow managed to forgive Matt, forgive you for your role in it, and even toy with the idea of being friends with you.

You made her believe it didn’t mean anything more than what she meant to him. It ripped off the bandage and thrust a knife back into her wound.

After Leigh's laughter fizzles out, the cold seems to bite a little harder, and you notice her shivering—whether from the cold or the tumult of emotions, you can't tell. She's just in shorts and a thin shirt, unprepared for the temperature drop.

Seeing her like this, vulnerable and cold, you feel the urge to just hug her and make her feel a fraction of how badly you regret deceiving her all along. Because saying “I'm sorry” feels way too small for the giant mess of feelings you're dealing with, especially the ones about her that you didn't even realize were piling up until now.

“Leigh,” you whisper, bargaining for something you don’t know.

She meets your gaze, a bit more peace in her eyes now, but that doesn't stop the tears from finally rolling down her cheeks. She's about to speak when suddenly a car pulls up in front of you, its headlights flashing across your faces, momentarily blinding you both.

A man steps out of the car, and Leigh recognizes him immediately. You do too, although it takes you a second longer to realize. Before either of you could react, he's already launching into a tirade. “Leigh, what the hell? Leaving in the middle of the night, stealing my phone—”

“Not now, Danny.”

You freeze, every fiber of your being locking onto the newcomer—because you're almost certain Leigh misspoke.

His name is not Danny.

It’s Nick.

#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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