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#elizabeth Olsen
mumblo-number-five · 2 days
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Elizabeth Olsen
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ginnsbaker · 1 day
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (5/?)
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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
-
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.
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lizziesribbons · 1 day
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This genre of lizzie pics makes me go into a spiral and then bang my head against the wall and scream and die and just cry cry like a little baby knowing I can never ever have her or touch her. She's the most gorgeous beautiful prettiest hottest sexiest yummiest mommiest person alive I need her I need her so so so bad omg
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IS THIS TRUE????
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It’s me, I’m the boy
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actressplayground3 · 2 days
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Elizabeth Olsen (34) Love & Death (TV 2023-)
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flositaa · 2 days
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The fingers, the cigarette, her….
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wandasaura · 2 days
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i’m still not over elizabeth olsens golden globes look. i will never be over elizabeth olsens golden globes look. i will die thinking about elizabeth olsens golden globes look.
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linkinggifs · 2 days
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Wanda 616 dreamwalks into Wanda 838 universe. [PT.1]
ELIZABETH OLSEN as WANDA MAXIMOFF. -multiverse of madness (2022), dir by. Sam Rami
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zalandos · 1 day
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stoneoferech · 3 days
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Elizabeth Olsen
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6cunning6linguist6 · 3 days
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Elizabeth Olsen
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ironlegend27 · 4 months
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Elizabeth Olsen
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lotsofcelebs · 6 months
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Elizabeth Olsen
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themidnightcrimson · 13 days
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good morning ࿏ wm
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summary: in which you decide to get what you want first thing in the morning.
words: 3.9k
warnings: top!wanda, power bottom!reader, dubcon/noncon, breeding kink, cumstrap (r receiving), somno (r giving), blowjob on cumstrap (r giving), enhanced strap, brief choking, just imagining slutting top!wanda out like this woeidbsibfwioe its the power bottom in me
this fic is for 18+ only. minors dni. read with discretion.
masterlist.
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The room was cool and the bed warm by the time you woke up. Legs shifting smoothly under the crisp sheets, you could hear the faint chirp of a lone bird outside the window along with what sounded like a gentle spring morning rain shower.
Plat plat plat plat the rain softly tapped against the window and quietly onto the roof above you. It was a sleepy rain, an early morning rain whose clouds blocked the sun from glaring through your window. It made waking a little easier, a little more soft.
The other thing that made waking a peaceful experience was the warm body you were tangled up with. The soft, curled ends of light brown hair tickled your bare shoulder, and it was the first thing you saw in the dim room as you opened your eyes. Your head rose and fell slowly with Wanda’s steady breath. It was resting on her bare chest, the skin there hot against your ear. She always slept so hot.
Your legs were tangled with hers, your arm thrown across her torso. As you blinked your eyes awake, you tilted your head upwards to get an angle of her from below. The stretch of her jawbone, the mountain of her cheekbones just beyond it. Heavy eyelashes fluttered closed, deep pink lips pursed in her sleep. The crinkle between her eyebrows that was always there when she slept. She was starting to get a permanent wrinkle from it, and while she was embarrassed of it, you told her it was just the imprint of all the dreams she’d ever had right there in one wrinkle between her brows so she would never forget them. Wanda was always a deep dreamer, for better or worse.
The puffy comforter you shared rested right below her breasts, likely pushed down during her overheated sleep. Her hair was splayed over her chest, barely covering the peaks of her soft pink nipples. Her skin looked pale and soft under the dim gloomy morning light. You let your hand glide over the soft expanse of her tummy, fingers pressing into her flesh as you shift, waking up a little more. Letting out a silent yawn, you casually let your hand stroll further down beneath the blanket, being thrown off guard a little when your hand touches cool silicone between her legs.
It was Wanda’s new creation still left strapped around her hips via harness from last night’s endeavors. It took a lot of research and magical effort for Wanda to create her enchanted strap that functions like a biological part of her body. Using her magic, she enchanted the strap so that she can feel through it and cum through it. Let’s just say the first few tries once she perfected it could be described as very quick, hot, and wet on her end. It was the most mind-blowing feeling she had ever felt, being able to feel you inside. Even now, a few weeks later, she still warns you how sensitive it still is, which you could tell from the beginning because of how fast she came with you.
Wanda’s magic was very powerful—spontaneous creation. For that reason, she insisted on wearing a condom the first several times using the enchanted strap out of fear of accidental pregnancy, though you knew she secretly had a breeding kink. Finally, she stopped using condoms, but she still pulled out of you every time. It was hot, seeing her get so close to just doing it, to just letting go and planting her cum deep inside you. You could see it on her face every time. But every time, milliseconds before release, she pulls out and chooses to spill all over your tummy or back instead. Of course, that was also hot in its own right. But you desperately wanted her to cum inside. You weren’t sure if it was the risk or the ownership aspect of it, but you fucking needed it.
And you knew she wanted it too. She had a tendency to hold you down when she’s about to cum, almost as if she is about to force you to take her cum, which you willingly would take every single drop. You even told her in a heated moment of passion to cum inside you once, and she almost did accidentally. Hearing you say that made her orgasm immediately, and she had to frantically pull out right as she spurted all over your mound, making sounds you’d never heard her make.
And now, in the dim morning light with cozy rain coming from outside, and Wanda’s soft, warm sleeping body with her cock in your hand as you thought over all these times with the new magical piece, you wanted it.
But she was so pretty and peaceful in her sleep with her crinkled brow of dreams and her slowly rising and falling chest. You wouldn’t wake her.
Licking your lips, you shifted your body so that you hovered over her, taking great care in slinking down her body without moving the blankets or the bed too much. With the hem of the blanket resting at the back of your neck, you rested your elbows over her plush thighs, eyeing the strap that now sat right in front of your face.
Humming, you trail your fingers to the harness straps, fiddling with the fabric on her hips for a moment before you carefully let them trail to the base of her cock, taking it in your fist gently. Glancing back up to her, you saw the same image—her head resting on the pillow, turned to the side, sleeping peacefully like an angel. The warmth between your legs grew as you formulated the plan of your desires, licking your lips and coming closer to her strap.
You placed Wanda’s length in your mouth. It surprised you every time how big she was—an advantage she smugly gave herself when crafting her piece. Suctioning your lips, you began to swirl your tongue around the tip of the strap with a gentle but purposeful pressure.
It didn’t take long before your mouth ignited the spell within the strap, and her magic peered through the silicone in cracks that looked like molten lava in a crimson hue. That’s how you knew she was aroused now, and as you looked up at her again, she was still sleeping as peacefully as ever.
It took some practice for you to understand how to give your girlfriend a blowjob since it was your first time, but Wanda was patient and could get off with basically any touch you gave her with how sensitive the strap felt when she wore it anyways.
So you lowered your mouth further down on her strap that was warming up between your lips, keeping your hand on the base to keep it steady. Letting your other hand gently squeeze her thigh, you sucked her gently, wanting to make her feel good but not wanting to wake her up. It startled you when, as you took her entirety in your mouth so that the tip of her cock poked the back of your throat, Wanda’s legs twitched under you. It was only once and, looking up as you deepthroated her, you saw that the sleeping look on her face remained unchanged.
The depth with which you took her in your throat prompted tears to form in your eyes and saliva in your mouth. Sniffling, you kept taking her all the way in and then suctioning as you lifted your mouth from her, letting your tongue flick around her tip before deepthroating her again. You were slow and gentle, but she was hot and throbbing with magical arousal. You could even smell it on her now and, reaching down under the base where her slit was, you found that she was wet there, too.
Getting excited, you bobbed your head perhaps a little too hard, and she twitched again, this time letting her head sway to the other side. You paused, waiting for any sign of further movement or signs of being awake, but she was still deep asleep, the crease in her brow deeper now. You went back to sucking her off dutifully, and as wet sounds filled the air, Wanda moved again, this time arching her back. The movement sent her hips bucking up, which shoved her cock into your throat unexpectedly, causing you to choke on her girth.
Recovering, you continued carefully and watched as she twitched and squirmed in her sleep, somehow still staying deep asleep even as you could feel her throb faster. Her lips fell open at one point, soft gasps of air filling the quiet, dim room along with your wet sucking sounds. Her body heated up even more under your hands, and she started to buck her hips more.
Picking up your speed, you deepthroated her more and more, choking yourself on her strap while she grew even more restless. You knew she was seconds away from cumming, so you grabbed the base of her strap and sucked harder and faster. Finally, with a whispery, sleepy moan, and a more violent twitch of her hips, Wanda came in your mouth. You kept your mouth around her, feeling her warm cum gush at the back of your throat and ooze down it. You waited, letting her twitch and gasp and push out every last drop of cum before you finally swallowed it and took her out of your mouth. She was sweet to the taste with just a hint of metal, an interesting mix of her magic that reminded you of the taste of her real arousal.
There were many benefits to this magical creation of Wanda’s, one of many being that there was an unlimited supply.
Her cock now wet and shiny and slightly glowing, you carefully crawled back up her body and straddled her. She had almost immediately fallen back into utter stillness as soon as she came, except for her chest that was rising and falling much faster now. Biting your lip, you reached down and took her breasts into your hands, squeezing and letting your thumb roll over her nipples that were already rock hard for you. You could feel her cock, resting below your thigh, twitch and throb, basically vibrating with magic. All you could taste was her cum that coated the inside of your mouth, the taste still soaked into your tongue.
She just looked so pretty, even more relaxed now, having just helplessly cum in your mouth without even knowing it. Leaning down, you pressed a chaste kiss to her still lips before moving your mouth to her neck and pressing soft, wet kisses there. You let your hand grope her breasts for a moment before sliding it down and rubbing her tummy, lowering it further and further until you reached below yourself and took her strap in your hand again.
Still kissing her neck, and feeling her twitch once below you, you adjusted yourself over her cock and rubbed your throbbing, wet slit down her length, not letting it go inside. You remember the first time you did that, before she ever went inside you with the new strap, and she had prematurely came. She had been so embarrassed, taking off the cum-filled condom and tearing the strap off of her and getting up, but you’d found it so hot. You loved having this control over her. You loved knowing that you held this power over her, that you could make her cum so easily, that she desired you so much that she found it hard to even have any control. You wanted to tease her constantly, to degrade her and embarrass her by using her desire for you against her.
Wanda’s sleepy breaths hitched as you rubbed your warm, wet folds up and down her length, leaving a wet, sticky trail on the strap. She shifted under you, turning her head back to the other side. Her eyebrows creased deeper, her face contorting into a look of neediness as she subconsciously bucked her hips, pushing herself harder onto you. Chuckling, you gave her one last kiss on her neck before sitting up fully, unable to control yourself anymore. You wanted to get what you truly wanted out of her before she woke up.
Your breathing growing heavier, along with the rain pattering much harder on the window outside, you lined Wanda’s cock up with your entrance, letting it sit there pressed against it for a moment. You took a deep breath—her size still surprised you, and you still needed to relax and prepare yourself before taking her in. Thanks to the blowjob and how wet you were, there was enough lubrication for you to lower yourself down on her cock, feeling her slide right in and stretch your walls around her.
“Fuck,” you whispered as you stopped halfway, feeling a tinge of pain. Wanda shifted beneath you, which didn’t help, so you just took another deep breath and basically slammed yourself down on her, Wanda’s entire cock ramming deep inside you.
As if on cue, right as you let out a louder shriek than you meant to because of the way her cock hit your cervix, Wanda also let out a sleepy form of a moan, her head swaying to the side as her legs shifted under the blankets below you.
Placing your hands on her shoulders, you stayed still and felt her throb inside you as she squirmed, watching her eyes scroll side to side behind her eyelids. Biting your lip, you slowly lifted yourself off halfway before coming back down again, nearly seeing stars when she hit your deepest point again.
It was obvious that doing this wasn’t going to keep her asleep for much longer. She was still moving, eyelids fluttering, lips twitching as if trying to speak between her growing breaths. She was breathing faster now, redness blooming on her cheeks.
There was no point in being careful now. Grinding your teeth together, you rolled your hips, throwing your head back as she hit your sweet spot in your lower tummy. She was so big that her cock was basically all you could feel as you rode her, feeling pure pleasure bloom inside you as you anticipated the ending you were dreaming about.
“Mmmm-nnnn” Wanda murmured as she squirmed more beneath you, kicking at the sheets covering her feet and arching her back. “Ahhh…” She was starting to come to, being lured by your actions into an in-between state between sleeping and waking. She was arching her back off the bed and bucking her hips up into you, natural instinct to have more friction and be as close to you as possible coming through.
Power filled you as you stared down at the helpless witch, her cock lodged deep inside you, throbbing as you bounced on it. You bit the tip of your tongue and squeezed her shoulders, digging your nails into her skin as you rode her cock.
The feeling of your nails in Wanda’s skin was the one thing that brought her into awareness. Her eyelashes fluttered, mouth dropping open. Finally, her eyes opened fully, exposing those pretty irises that were usually green but were now a deep, sleepy crimson red from the magic she was subconsciously using.
A grin slashed across your own face, your tummy filled with excitement as you watched the look of confusion on Wanda’s once peaceful face. This was the second moment you were anticipating the most. Her eyebrows contorted in confusion as she stared up at you, her eyes blank with dumb sleepiness at first as her mouth let out heavy breaths. Then she blinked a few times, her eyes falling down over your body and to her own. She saw her cock, glistening with wet, appear halfway with every other bounce you made. She watched it appear as you lifted up, and then disappear again as you slapped yourself down on her lap.
Then she felt it. The tight, wet warmth. The squeezing of your walls around her. The more textured parts around your cervix, how much warmer and tighter you felt the deeper she was. Your lips smushed against the base of her cock when you had her fully inside. The ridges of your cunt massaging her length as you jerked up and down on her, the friction feeling like a white hot flame of pleasure with each stroke.
Her mouth fell open wider with a loud, startled moan, her hands immediately slapping onto your hips and holding them. “Baby!” she exclaimed in surprise, trying to blink the bleariness out of her eyes as you continued fucking yourself on her.
You giggled at her reaction, how she was confused but so turned on and so obviously overwhelmed by the feeling of you milking her cock as soon as she woke up, this being the very first thing her consciousness experienced this rainy morning. You felt her cock swell a little inside you, now that she was awake with her magic.
Her breathing turned into gasps, her eyes squeezing shut as she hissed through her teeth, her hips trembling as you slammed down onto them. “Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck,” she croaked, her voice sleepy and husky and burning hot in your ear.
“I always wanted to wake you up like this,” you whispered, scratching down her chest and over her nipples, causing her to let out the cutest little high-pitched whimper.
“Fuck,” was all she could whisper, holding your hips as they bounced up and down on her length.
You could see the sweat breaking on her forehead, the flush in her cheeks, the way her tummy tightened under your palm. She was getting close.
“D-Did you use prot-protection?” Wanda stammered, her brown hair starting to stick to her temples. She knew the answer. She could feel it, but she needed to ask anyway.
Chuckling, you let out a pornographic moan just to make her shudder and then said, “Nope.”
Wanda’s eyes widened a little in panic. She could already feel herself leaking a little, or maybe it was just your wetness, which was also dripping down her shaft and onto her thighs. Through the slight panic in your eye you could see the desperation, the idea she always dreams about sitting right there in her brain.
You purposefully clenched, and she bit her lip and threw her head back, her body lifting off the bed as she pushed herself into you. You gasped at the depth but used your strength to pin her hips back down to the bed.
“Baby,” she breathed, her eyes barely open. “Baby, get up.” Her voice grew breathy with quickness. “I’m gonna cum. Get up.” She slapped your hip a few times to make you get up, but you kept riding her.
“No,” you purred, leaning down closer to her face and smirking. “You can easily push me off if you want to.” You watched her, struggling to keep her eyes open, her body moving with your bouncing, look up at you with such a strong mix of horror and desire on her face. You waited, but she only continued to struggle beneath you, not making any effort to use her magic or strength to push you off. “So why don’t you?”
Wanda whined, throwing her head back and closing her eyes as if just looking at you was going to make her bust. Her nails dug into your hips as she trembled, looking like the pleasure was turning into pain as you continued to ride her. There was no way she would actively deny you. She could stop herself all she wanted when it was her in control, but if you were going to take it from her, she couldn’t not acquiesce.
“Baby, please,” she murmured through gritted teeth, tears forming in the corners of her eyes from the struggle to keep herself from cumming. You knew she could stop it if she wanted to—you didn’t have her physically wrangled, and even if you did, her magic could put an end to it immediately. “Please, get up, I can’t hold it.”
Grinning, you slam your hand over her throat, and she gasps, choking slightly as you squeeze her throat. “You’re so cute like this,” you whisper, “Begging me to stop. You’re the one who can’t control yourself.”
Tears were falling down her cheeks now. “Please, please,” she begged, her eyes squeezed shut. “Please, baby, I can’t—I can’t hold it—I’m gonna cum, fuck, please…”
“Do it. Give me all your cum,” you hiss, riding her harder to the point where the bedframe slams against the wall. Wanda, choking on the pressure of your hand around her throat, trembled and violently twitched below and inside you as she tried her hardest to hold it. But she was hot to the touch, and so were you, and your cunt felt so good squeezing around her cock, and you were taking complete advantage of her which she found to be so hot, and she hadn’t been able to stop dreaming about breeding you for weeks now, and it was all too much for her to even stop it.
“Fuck, baby, fuck, get off, I’m gonna… fuck, fuck fuck!”
Wanda’s nails dug into your hips as her words turned into incoherent babbles, her mouth falling wide open and her body lifting completely off the bed as she finally lost all control. You tried to watch her as long as you could, but your eyes fluttered closed when finally you felt her cock give one last hard twitch before loads of her burning hot cum went gushing deep inside you, splashing the wall of your cervix and filling your tummy all up.
The feeling made you cum, shivering on top of her and squeezing around her which only prolonged her orgasm even more. Wanda saw flashing images of you pregnant, which had been fueling what she thought was fear for weeks now, but she was learning just now that that fear was pure fetish. She tugged your hips down onto her and pushed herself as deep inside you as possible as she loaded you with her cum, surprising you with her strength as she kept you in a complete hold.
After a few moments, when she had filled you with all she had to give, which was a shocking amount this time because of how long she had held it, and you were limp against her chest, recovering from your own orgasm, Wanda finally relaxed, letting go of your hips and closing her eyes.
“Fuck,” she breathed, panting as sweat rolled down her tear-streaked face. You were quiet for a minute, relishing the feeling of a full tummy of Wanda’s cum, her cock throbbing gently in your cunt. You were so glad she’d enchanted that strap.
Finally, you hummed, looking up at her. She looked dazed and fuzzy-minded, her eyes hooded and cheeks blushing red from embarrassment. She sighed and grinned sheepishly, placing her hands over her face. You smirked. “That was a lot better than cumming on my tits, right?”
Wanda breathed. “Well, good morning to you, too.”
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