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romanoffsbish · 9 months

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Sabotage is a Girl’s Best Friend

Yelena Belova x F!R | Wanda x Natasha

Request (I lost it, but it was a simple / easy to remember- Jealous Yelena who sabotages every date R has until she’s caught) | WC: 3,959

Yelena quirked a brow at you as you waltzed into her room, having slammed her door into the wall to emphasize your frustrations, you fell back onto her occupied bed and groaned, "That was the third failed date this month!"

"Maybe love isn't in your future Y/N Y/L/N."

"No, it is. I just think you're finding the duds."

Natasha looked down at you with a smirk, it was almost as if she knew something you didn't, but you knew there was no point asking. Because the redhead did know, but she would never say it to you for her little sister's sake.

——

She knows what it's like to have to learn how to be a human being again, to develop deep feelings like the ones Yelena so clearly has for you. It's not too far off from her agonizingly slow love story with Wanda. However, the witch was aware of her feelings the whole time.

You're oblivious. Painfully so. Watching you two together is entertainment for the couple.

Wanda's almost always ready to meddle, but the redhead always stops her. She knows that Yelena would hopelessly ruin things if forced into it too soon. Which would be a real shame, because Natasha was rooting for you wholly; Yelena was good at keeping you, the resident klutz, safe, and you softened Yelena's heart.

The blonde deserved to have someone she could be care free with, and that loved her.

Natasha knew you loved her, so, as soon as you left the room she began to harass her sister.

"Yelena, you can't keep doing this to her."

Yelena sighed, hands over her face in shame. "I have no other choice." Her shoulders shook as she held back a sob. "I can't lose her when I haven't even had a chance to have her yet."

"Then make a move," Nat urged, her hand tight as it squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. "I hate seeing her so dejected, you're going to give her a complex. Tell her the truth, then the both of you can have the happy ending you deserve."

Yelena scoffed, "Y/N deserves better Natalia."

"You are plenty enough Lena," Natasha sighed.

"Not for her." Yelena shook her head with a hoarse sob, and so the redhead pulled her into a tearful hug. "Y/N loves you just the same, and would be crushed to hear you say that."

You wiped away the tears, nodding towards the closed door in agreement as you heard them. A bittersweet smile overtook your face as you took determined steps towards your bedroom.

If she wouldn't make the damn move, then you would have to. Starting by catching her in the midst of sabotaging yet another date. One you'll have set up for the both of you after she hopefully confesses instead of running away.

Natasha left her sister's room half an hour later after she got Yelena to lay down as she sobbed. Putting the broken blonde to sleep, and letting the redhead make her way to your room fast. Part of her was relieved you'd eavesdropped, but the other part was ready to pummel you.

When she finally found you she was even more frustrated, ready to go off on you until you turned to her with a smile and reddened eyes.

"I was thinking I'd ask Tony to rent me the entire arcade," you murmured over the pen that was now in your mouth. Natasha smirked as she stared down at your long list of ideas.

"The Kraft Factory Tour, is that even a thing?"

You shrugged your shoulders and giggled, "I'm an Avenger, I'm sure they'd make it happen."

Your easy laughter made the redhead hopeful, but she still felt a protectiveness for Yelena. So, Natasha abruptly caught you by the chin, her eyes hardened as she peered into yours. You gave her time to figure out your intentions, and once she did you felt her finger tap your nose.

"You leave the date to me," she grinned, "It'll make Wanda so happy to help, and it gives you time to plan your monologue, make it good."

—

A week went by, giving the blonde false hope that you'd given up. Sadly she wasn't that lucky, so now Yelena paced the floor of the elevator as it slowly descended the many floors. How you kept finding people was truly of no shock to her. You were perfect, so much so that she knew that one day she'd lose you for good. To the one smart person who fought back, who saw through her bluff and to your worth.

It honestly upset her every time they ran out of the bathroom with their tails between their legs. Forfeiting a chance with you was a sin.

This time you were going to a rage room, it didn't seem like much of your thing, but she just assumed your partner (to never be) picked.

As the blonde exited the elevator she was in a hurry, which is why Tony should've known to steer clear of her path, but he stood in it.

"Belova, just the person I was looking for." She rolled her eyes, and attempted to walk by, but he mistakenly stopped her with a hand on her wrist. She spun their bodies and slammed him into a wall. "Speak your words, don't touch."

Tony stuttered, "W-we have a mission."

"I am off the clock," was her quick, dry reply before she left the building in a focused stride.

The brilliant idiot had cost her time, something she couldn't afford to lose any of while trying to stop you, once again, from falling in love. It was growing exhausting, your constant flow of dates never seemed to cease. They always gave her an uneasy feeling, but this time it was only heightened by the revelation that Sarah, your old mission partner from your shield days, had asked you out. The pre-established connection was anxiety inducing. What if she is the one?

That was preposterous... Yelena was the one.

Even if you didn't understand that yet, she knew that one day she'd have the courage to tell you. It was the only destiny she banked on.

Once she made it outside of the compound she wasted no time climbing onto her tricked out bike, weaving through traffic with ease as she raced to get to you. She parked a lot away then sprinted into the building to find you and the brunette with the pretty smile, and doe eyes wrapped up in a reminiscent embrace. Her heart sank, but she didn't let it stop her.

As if fate was on her side the woman excused herself from your chat, and headed off towards what she could only assume to be the restroom. It was the easiest rendezvous spot Yelena had come to find out with every date she'd foiled.

Yelena made her way there fast, her heart on the verge of exploding as she wondered if Sarah would finally be the one to fight back. Not that she'd win, the blonde hadn't taken things to the next level with her threats, but she was willing to do anything for your love.

"Listen up," she didn't waste time as she began her speech before the door even full opened. A frown overtook her face though when she waltzed in to find her sister's girlfriend on the counter instead, wearing a playful smirk.

"I'm listening Belova." Natasha took her sisters silent glaring as a warning, so she emerged from the shadows of the large stall and took the liberty of locking the door before the blonde could bolt. The clicking of metal made the blonde turn to shoot the glare her sister's way instead, it was basically heatless. Yelena was masking the hurt from the betrayal, she was beyond terrified that the plan set in motion here was to prevent her from stopping you.

"Move out of the way Natalia!" She growled, her fists flexed, and the redhead rolled her eyes. Yelena hated not being taken seriously so she resorted to slamming her into the door. "If she and Sarah leave here together I will never speak to you again. This isn't fair to do!"

"Yeah, you're right Lena, it isn't!" She scoffed and pushed her sister backwards. The blonde caught herself before falling to the ground and raised her fist, ready to deliver a punch that was halted by swirls of red tickling her skin.

"Let me go Wanda Maximoff, or so help me..."

Wanda cut her off, "If you two would stop the bickering then you'd know that's exactly why we're here. To help you to get your love."

Yelena narrowed her eyes at the smug smirk on her sister's face. Natasha knew just how to push her sister's buttons, but never in a way that would be truly damaging. It felt justified to her to scare the blonde, to show her that her childish behavior would fail her eventually.

"How will I get my love if you've trapped me?"

"Are you truly incapable of figuring it out?" Wanda groaned as she flitted around the space to prepare her station. "Y/N figured you out."

"N-no, I-I was so careful." Yelena's teeth pierced the skin of her lip as the anxiety began to consume her. "Who the hell told her?!"

Natasha pulled her into a hug, her hands ran down the younger girls back as she let her sob into the fabric overlaying her chest. Then as the sobbing ceased Natasha spoke: "You did."

"I did no such thing!" Yelena pulled back, her defenses even higher at the crazy insinuation. "Don't be crazy. I would never say anything."

"She heard us last week," Natasha fed her the obvious information, "I guess I didn't wait long enough for her to leave before I scolded you."

Yelena was once again ready to annihilate her sister, but Wanda yanked her into a chair, and magically bound her to the seat. "The point isn't to place blame, but it's instead to rejoice that the cats out of the bag, and to get you ready for the date. Save the simmering rage for the rooms full of priceless antiques." Wanda pouted at the thought of the old televisions being smashed to pieces, and for the first time the sisters were in sync with their eye rolls.

"Moya lyubov', are you serious?" Natasha couldn't stop from laughing. "Deadly." The look Wanda sent her lovers way stopped it.

"Seriously?" Yelena wasn't afraid of Wanda. "It's all just junk witchy. We're in the new ages. Like, did you know you could make mac and cheese in a cup now? How revolutionary."

Wanda slapped the both of them upside their heads with the flick of her red shaded hand. Wanda ignored their grumbles in protest as she pulled a stunning outfit from a garment bag. It was fancy enough for the dinner Wanda had booked later, but practical for the rage room you two wouldn't budge on. "Go change before the clock strikes 12 and your princess bails."

Yelena looked to Natasha, eyes wide as she processed the reality. Her fingers consequently turned white as she squeezed the hanger, and the redhead took a step forward so she could press her forehead to hers. "Y/N's waiting for you Yelena, she's not going to reject you."

"How do you figure? What if she only agreed to this so that she could yell at me?" Natasha chuckled softly, "Because, she asked her friend who is engaged to play the part tonight, and she picked this dingy place with you in mind."

Yelena fiddled with her hands as she was escorted to the massive gymnasium. "Breathe," Natasha whispered, then before she could she was briskly shoved into the lions den. It was a massive space, the biggest room they'd rented out to people actually, and she was enamored.

In the corner stood an attendant who was patiently waiting for her to meet him by a door. Her eyes flitted around the room to find a wide variety of things to break, along with weapons to use for the objective. If not for you waiting on her as well she would've kept her pace leisurely, but she quickly made her way over.

"Welcome ma'am," he greeted with a fake smile, she could empathize as that's how she approached most people at the compound.

"I am not old enough to be a ma'am," she said, her tone nothing short of menacing, and then her glowering expression fell into a smile at the sound of your distant laughter. She didn't even pay him anymore attention as she followed the sound to a room full of various white suits.

"Glad you'd graced me with your presence Belova, I was starting to think I was stood up."

Yelena smirked. "You are." You rolled your eyes, but contradicted your gesture with the casual slip of your hand into hers as the man walked in to give the both of you the spiel.

It was comical really, the barely legal boy-man was informing two highly trained Avengers how to be careful with their chosen weaponry. He'd been prepared to tell you about the ways in which you should hold a sledgehammer as you swing it when the blonde decided to tell him how she's broken many bones with them.

He left in a rush after that, and wished you both a good time. Yelena cackled as she put on the suit, meanwhile you only shook your head.

Once the two of you were alone, and the humor had faded the vibe suddenly became tense. So without a moment's hesitation you led the way back into the destruction zone and began to shatter things with a wooden baseball bat.

Yelena followed your lead, using the previously mentioned sledgehammer to destroy a line of white, old-timey washers and dryers. Both of your minds were running wild with worst case scenarios, and with each slam of your weapon into something that shattered they'd settle.

After about ten minutes of grunting and swinging it was you who finally broke the silence that Yelena found a bit too comforting. When the wood hitting the floor echoed through the space she gently set her weapon against the wall and slowly walked over to you.

You met her halfway, leaning onto a beaten up box-tv with your arms crossed. "Why did you never just tell me Lena? I-I would've waited."

"I didn't understand until it was too late," she admitted softly, you could hear the emotion she was desperately trying to suppress. "You went out with Darcy, and when it didn't work I was elated. Then there was Carol, who left the next day for space, but seeing her flirting was enough to make me want to throttle her."

"Everything there was just a fling. I wanted to ask you out, but every time love was brought up you cringed and mocked the concept. So, I started to try dating seriously considering it was my only remaining option. Then I just thought with every failed attempt that maybe I was the problem, just simply undesirable."

"No, don't say that, you're the most desirable!"

"I don't get it though Lena," you smiled sadly, "You could have anyone you want. Why me?"

Yelena frowned, something she'd never done with you stood in front of her before. Normally she couldn't help but to smile, but your words of self doubt wounded her greatly. In all the time she spent worrying she wasn't enough for you, she never considered you would be in the same boat as her. "Why not you Y/N?"

"Do you know how many gorgeous people would kill to date you Yelena? The line would be out the door, and yet you settle for me."

She shook her head and threw a hand in the air to hush you. "Don't do that. I do not ever settle. I win. This is no different. You are one of those gorgeous women, you are the most perfect."

You chuckled humorlessly, "I'm far from it."

"You are blind," the blonde snapped, she swung the bat and sent a few glass bottles into the wall before she dropped it and walked up to you with a few glass plates in her hand now.

"Comparing yourself to a world full of people who couldn't even catch my attention. They are all nothing when held up next to you." Yelena held up a gorgeous black plate adorned with fancy gold trimming, and beside it a boring white plate with faded floral printing. Then she smirked as the latter shattered into tiny pieces.

Yelena set the fancy dish to the side then she brought your hand to her lips for a sweet kiss. "In a world full of ugly, you are the beauty; If my line is out the door, then it's safe to say that yours has to be around the globe. Which makes sense with all the dates I've had to crash."

"You didn't have to," you teased with a short laugh to follow. "I would've said no if I knew you wanted me the same way I did you."

Yelena's mouth fell open, nothing but splutters left as her tongue practically fell limp. She was a trained spy, with Natasha at her side this whole time screaming of your reciprocation, but she still felt bamboozled at the revelation.

"I knew I loved you ever since I saw you at that charity drive," Yelena confessed with a shake in her tone that usually isn't there. "When you helped that legless toddler find her furrever friend in that little calico kitty that matched."

You narrowed your eyes playfully, "Yeah?"

Yelena nodded without hesitation, it was your genuine intention that had her fall into the pits of the unknown. At the time she took it to be envy, but then she saw you go on a date with Darcy and she quickly realized the truth as she met and befriended the green eyed monster.

"I win then," you challenged, "I loved you so much earlier than that." Yelena shook her head and groaned, "Please don't say at first sight, that's just illogical." You giggled, then pondered allowed, "What about second?"

Yelena tried to remember what day it could've been, but she was stumped. "You were new, and practically attached at Natasha's hip. If anyone even tried to get close you'd glare."

Yelena hummed, she didn't doubt you at all.

"Well, it was the middle of the night when I found you in the kitchen. You looked so sad, and for a moment I could feel this pull. Fate decided it best to let me slip only seconds later, and it was in the moment that you caught me, as I sorta fell for you, that I knew you were it."

"Oh," Yelena felt her entire body warm at the sweet origin story for your emerging story. "Yeah," you giggled before throwing yourself into her body, she initially stiffened, but in a blink she was pulling you even closer to her.

For a moment the room was silent, the two of you felt the serenity deep in your bones. Then, in true Yelena fashion she had to interrupt it. "By the way, I don't need people to kill for me, I can do it by myself, and for you of course."

"Oh goodness me baby, I will never tire of your humorous little quips." Yelena wanted to say she was being serious, her words weren't intended as a joke, but she decided to settle into the joy you felt, plus, her heart was too busy hammering at your chosen endearment.

Your session wasn't over yet, but there wasn't any anger left to latch onto, so you took her hand and escorted her to the changing room. Both of you helped the other out of the plastic suits, then on your way out you thanked the couple who helped you plan it all, and tossed the redhead her sister's keys. "Don't—."

"Don't crash the bike, I know... I can't believe you'd even say such a thing to me." Yelena went to rebuttal, but you pulled her away before the sisters could bicker—again.

The rest of the night was a dream, the two of you skipped out on the fancy dinner after only seeing food she'd never tried before. Yelena was a picky eater, and by that notion, if there were no chicken tenders on the menu (there weren't), then you could count her out.

She'd frowned initially, but gulped down her budding resentment for your sake. But you knew the girl like the back of your hand, so without a word you left a hundred on the table as a tip for the inconvenience, then grabbed her hand. "W-where are we going dorogoy?"

You spun around to face her with a bright smile after hearing the slip of a Russian pet name. It nearly sent the woman to her knees to have you that close, she wondered if you were like her own kryptonite. She didn't fully get the nerdy references Peter made, but she still tried.

"We are going to McDonald's." Yelena looked ecstatic for all of two seconds, then she pouted thinking she ruined the night. "I'm sorry."

"Yelena, this night belongs to us. Not Wanda, nor Natasha, it's about what we enjoy. You'd have likely barfed if I let you sacrifice your tastebuds for the sake of my own. Plus, I hate the ambiance of these sorts of restaurants."

Yelena nodded in understanding, the lack of lighting made it near impossible for her to even see the menu full of options she didn't favor. It made gawking at you near impossible as well.

"McDonald's is so much better, they have a play center, there's options for all, and most importantly I can actually see you smile."

"I can still eat here if you want Y/N," she tried, but to her delight you'd playfully shook your head and then caught her completely off guard. You'd leaned forward to peck her cheek, you felt as her lips turned as you lingered, then you both felt your stomach's swarming joyfully.

When you once again tried to walk away you were stopped by a hand on your wrist that seamlessly moved to your waist. Yelena held your gaze for a long moment, then as she found no hesitation from you she leaned forward and it was as if all of her worries disappeared.

Under the dimly lit streetlights in the barren parking lot the blonde felt her heart mend. As your lips perfectly slotted between her own, and your body melted beneath the pads of her fingertips it was as if the world rewarded her.

A lifetime of pain endured led her to this moment, with your body pressed against the door of your car. She reasoned it was all worth it for this kiss that signified a beginning.

One that everyone knew to be long overdue.

"You ready to go eat moya lyubov'?" Natasha whispered against the nosy witches cheek as she nuzzled against her affectionately from behind. "The dinner reservation expire soon."

Wanda watched as Yelena's hand began to wander, and suddenly the matchmaker trance was upended. "Let's go Natty bear, I want some caviar, this day has officially drained me."

Natasha bit back her snark in favor of not sleeping on the couch, her neck had yet to recover from the last time. She resided with silence, even if they both knew the only thing to be significantly drained tonight is her wallet...

At least the card she gave to Yelena was Tony's.

——

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wandanat #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova fluff #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh #florence pugh character #florence pugh x reader

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widowmaxff · 4 months

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caught

pairings: yelena belova × fem!reader | natasha romanoff × fem!reader (platonic)

warnings: smut implied (character just being in underwear, kisses on skin, hickeys, nothing gets more intimate than that), getting caught

The low sounds that came out of your mouth and the wet kisses she left across your bust were the only thing that could be heard in her room. She looks at the purple marks left on her girlfriend's body, a growl comes out of her mouth, making your body shudder.

"Can I?" Yelena whispers to you, who smiles before nodding your head in confirmation. Her hands go to the girl's shorts, taking no time to remove them and throw them in a corner somewhere.

She looks up and down the red lingerie her girlfriend wore, giving you a pretentious smile. Your face was as red as the set you were dressing. Your hair was messy, falling on your shoulders, making you look more beautiful than you already are, Yelena thought. But before she could do anything to you, a loud knock on the door made the two of you quickly separate.

"Yelena, can I come in?" It was her sister, Natasha Romanoff, who consequently didn't know about your relationship with Yelena, much less that she liked girls.

"Huh, wait a second!"

You panicked not knowing what to do. She dragged you to the bathroom of her room and closed the door before throwing the girl's clothes under the bed. She tried to fix her hair before taking a deep breath and walking to the door, unlocking it and giving her sister space to enter. "I came to tell you that dinner is ready, everyone is already there."

"Oh! Okay, I won't take long to go." Yelena stutters, making Natasha look at her with furrowed eyebrows. She doesn't say anything else, even giving your girlfriend a confused look before closing the bedroom door. She lets out a deep sigh. The bathroom door opens and your head pokes out. You laughs and walks towards her, seeing how nervous she was. "I thought I was going to have a heart attack in front of my sister."

And before you could even respond, the door opens again with a loud noise, making you both startled. Natasha crosses her arms before walking towards you. Your heart seemed to stop for a second, your throat closed, and tour skin turned pale. "Y/n, I didn't know you were here."

"I was using the bathroom, Nat. But, I heard you perfectly, so let's go to have dinner!" You try to escape but her sister puts herself in front of you, leaving you with no choice but to face her.

"Are you going without your clothes for dinner?" Your cheeks turn pink when you look down and realize that you were only wearing your red set. "Why are you without them?"

"Oh, Y/n was trying on some of my clothes that I no longer wanted to see if she would like them!" Yelena quickly lie, thinking that her sister wouldn't think of anything beyond that.

"You're doing that, Yelena."

"'That' what?"

"When you get nervous, your lips tremble. And when you lie, you can't stop touching your shirt." When her eyes went down, she noticed her fingers were almost white because she was holding her shirt so tightly. Damn, she hated how well sister knew her, of course.

When neither of you responds further, she lets out a deep sigh before looking into both of your eyes. "We're going to have dinner and when you're done eating, I want you two in my bedroom to talk, you hear me?"

Neither of you respond, you just nod your head quickly, waiting for a meteor to fall on the room, because that was so embarrassing that it made you want to die right there in front of your girlfriend's sister.

You wait for something to happen, Natasha continues to stare at Yelena, until she realizes that you need your clothes to go to have dinner. So, she bend down towards her bed quickly taking them in her hands and embarrassedly returning them to you. You thank her with a smile before slipping the shirt over your head and your shorts down your legs.

Natasha sighs before giving the two of you space to leave the room. She follows behind you and your girlfriend, as if she were a private guard. You almost didn't even move, afraid that if you made one wrong move, your girlfriend's sister would kill you right there.

You released the breath you didn't even know you were holding out of your lungs when you reached the dining room. Yelena sat in the chair next to Clint, it didn't take long for Natasha to join her. You sat down next to Wanda, who soon noticed you hyperventilating and bouncing your leg up and down nervously.

"Is everything okay?" She whispers to you. Your head just nods, not trusting your voice at the moment. Dinner passes peacefully, but you can still feel Natasha's gaze on you. As the seconds passed, you became even more nervous and afraid that your girlfriend's sister would jump on your neck at some point.

When people started to leave the table, you started eating faster so that you didn't have to be alone with the two sisters, even if you had to face it at some point. "Hey, calm down. The food isn't going to run off your plate." Natasha's voice made you almost spit out all the food from your mouth. You look up and realize that there are only the three of you in the room. "I'll be waiting for you two in my room." And then, she gets up, but before leaving she gives you both a death glare.

[...]

"It's going to be okay, love." Yelena tells you, kissing your head as an act to try and calm you down.

"Natasha is going to kill me!" you whisper between your panting breaths making your girlfriend laugh. "Shh, she won't. Let's go in so it can all be over quicker."

You almost regret entering the room. Natasha was sitting on her bed with her arms crossed and a look that made you want to run away from that place. Yelena held your hand before walking closer to her sister. "I'm not going to say that I was surprised to see... you almost naked in my sister's room." Your face turns redder than Natasha's hair. "And I'm also not going to say that I didn't suspected about you two. Especially you, Y/n." You once again feel your face heat up in embarrassment.

"But I just wanted to know why you never told me about it?" None of you knew the answer. Maybe you were just scared of her reaction? Or scared of how the outside world would react about two women getting together. "I don't know, Nat." Yelena whispers.

Natasha walks towards the two of you, embracing your bodies together in a tight hug. You feel your girlfriend's body relax with the act, making yours do the same. "I know you two are afraid of what might happen from now on, but know that I will always support you two in whatever you decide, okay?"

"Thanks for understanding, Nat. I really thought you were going to kill me." You joke. Natasha chuckles before leaving a kiss on each of the two of your foreheads. "Know that I will really kill you if you do anything bad to my sister, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

#yelena belova #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #mcu imagine #yelena belova imagine #yelena marvel #yelena mcu #marvel cinematic universe #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova fluff #florence pugh #florence pugh imagine #yelena x you #black widow #hawkeye

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littlexscarletxwitch · 5 months

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── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): nsfw, fluffy smut, wlw establish relationship, gf flo is the best (lol), r's anxious

warning(s): MDNI, +18 ONLY read at your own risk, explicit smut, wlw sex, oral sex, slight praise kink i guess, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.6k

requested?: yes: "👉🏼👈🏼another one. uhhh twitchy shy gf who is either like biting her lips, picking her skin, vaping, or biting her nails and then Flo comes home and is like all cute and cozy and cuddly and sweet. then when all is well, she slowly and lovingly eats out her gf and praises her for no longer hurting herself and the gf just giggles bc like…her pussy being eaten literally." - 💦🍯 anon

note: I'm so sorry it took me soooo long, nonnie. But it's finally here, thank you so much for you request, I love your requests lol. Hope you all enjoy. Lots of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules here + masterlist <3

Your leg was bouncing up and down, your teeth were biting your bottom lip, as your finger picked the skin around your nails.

She noticed it, of course. Florence always knew when you were starting to feel anxious. So she grabbed your hand in between hers, rested her leg over yours, and brought her lips to yours.

The movie playing on the tv was forgotten when she brought you toward her. “I don’t like it when you do that,” she confessed in between kisses, but there was no trace of anger in her tone, just worry.

“When do I do what exactly?” you said breathlessly over her lips, clueless as to what she was referring to.

“The picking and biting,” she said, as she lightly squeezed your hand. “I can understand the bouncing. But not the other two, I don't like you hurting yourself.”

“Flo, It’s nothing really,” you tried to shrug it off.

“But it is, it is to me. It's nothing at first, but then you start to do it more often and then your fingertips and lips will be all bloody and I won’t like that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you shyly said.

“It’s okay, don’t apologise,” she left a soft kiss on your forehead. “I just… Promise me you will try to stop that habit, okay?”

“Okay,” you reassuringly smiled at her, promising to yourself to keep to your word.

[...]

You were currently on the couch, some relaxing and calming music playing as you worked on the proposal you had to hand in tomorrow morning. Your anxiety was creeping over and the stupid music did nothing to calm you down. But it wasn’t the music’s fault, it was completely yours. You were supposed to have it already done, but something came up then another, and now you were doing your best to finish it up before its deadline.

“Honey, I’m home,” you heard Florence singsang as she entered your shared home.

“In here,” you answered her, your eyes not leaving the screen in front of you.

“Hey, babes,” she said, as she let herself fall on the couch next to you, snuggling into your body, leaving a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Hey,” you smiled at her, you could already feel some of your anxiety washing away just by her closeness. “How was your day?”

“Oh, you know, the usual, nothing interesting,” she shrugged it off. “Hey, what are you up to?” she asked once she noticed how your fingertips were speed typing into your laptop.

“It’s nothing, I just need to finish up this paper that's due tomorrow.”

“Oh, am I distracting you or something?”

“No, no. You’re fine,” you left a kiss on her forehead. “Just give me a second here, and then I’ll be all yours.”

“Okay,” Florence smiled to herself, watching as you typed some fancy and big words into a word document.

It was then that she noticed your twitchy state: the bouncing leg was back again and she noticed your fingers were slightly trembling. Fortunately you weren’t biting your bottom lip and your fingertips’ skin wasn’t picked.

“Y/n, are you okay?” still she was concerned, you were clearly anxious about this stupid paper.

“Yeah, why?” you took a quick look at her and noticed she was staring at your hands. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you said, slightly closing your hand into a fist to stop them from shaking. “I just want to get it done,” you huffed.

“You know, if it’s stressing you out so much, maybe you should get a break,” she said, resting her head on your shoulder.

“And I will as soon as I’m done,” you breathed out, slightly bumping your head against hers. “I promise, we can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” half of your brain was concentrated on the words you were typing in but still her understone didn’t go unnoticed by you.

You chuckled, “Yes, whatever you want.”

“Okay,” she said, leaving a quick kiss on your cheek. “Let me know when you’re done.”

“Will do,” you smiled at her as you watched her leave the room, a smirk on her face, which sent a shiver up your spine.

You typed some more words into the document, deleted others, changed some into more fancy ones, rearranged the order of the paragraphs a few times and by the time the clock hit 9pm you were finally done with the goddamn thing. Lastly, you sent a copy of the document to your boss and once that was done you felt a weight had been lifted off from your shoulders.

You placed your now closed laptop on the coffee table, and went on your way to find Florence.

“Flo?” you called her out from your bedroom door. “What are you doing in bed? Don’t you want to have something to eat? Aren’t you hungry?” you said, stepping in, plopping yourself down on the mattress.

“You know I’ve been thinking…” she completely ignored your question as she crawled toward you. Her undertone and smirk didn’t go unnoticed by you. “You’ve been doing so good not picking your skin or biting your lip,” you could feel her hot breath on your lips. “I think you deserve a reward,” she quickly kissed the corner of your lips sending shivers up your spine.

“What kind of reward?” she didn’t even kiss you and you were already breathless, just her closeness was enough for your brain to malfunction.

“Well…,” she cupped your cheeks. “I was thinking…” she brought her lips to yours, kissing them slowly, making your stomach tightened into a knot. “I am hungry… you said it yourself…” her lips moved down to your jaw.

“What are you hungry for?” it almost came out as a whimper.

“You,” she said, muttered by your skin as she got on top of you.

A curse slipped past your lips as she rocked her hips against yours. Your hands flew to her waist, squeezing and pressing her even closer to you, making her moan as she kissed and sucked on your collarbone.

You didn’t realise how or when, due to your brain being all foggy because of her entire being, but a second later, or so you thought, the two of you were stripped out of your clothes. She was still on top of you, kissing every inch of your body as if she was worshipping you.

Everytime she would kiss a new area, she would move further down your body, getting dangerously close to your core. She was teasing you obviously, she knew you were already too goddamn wet for her fingers or strap to easily get past inside you. But she wanted for her lips and tongue to have their way with you.

The closer she got to your burning throbbing cunt, the more your legs would twitch, the more you would hiss, and the more you would squirm under her. The whole thing only encouraged her even more to do with you as she pleased.

“Stop with the teasing… please,” you blurted out breathlessly.

And without any warning whatsoever, she buried her mouth, chin and nose into you. A low ‘fuck’ slipped out of your lips followed by her name and a gasp at the sudden contact. Your hand flew to the back of her head, tugging her hair in a makeshift ponytail, getting all of it out of the way so you could see her properly as she ate you out.

Her eyes were closed, deep in concentration, as you moaned and whimpered. The picture only added more to your arousal and the knot forming in your stomach would only get tighter as her tongue slipped in and out of you and her nose brushed against your clit.

“Holy fuck,” she took it as a sign for her to pushed her finger inside of you.

Your cunt sucked in her finger so easily that she knew you could take a second one, maybe even a third one. And so she did, she took out the single finger and pushed two inside you, and once she knew you were ready, two fingers became three.

“Oh, God!” you said as you heard the room being filled by the sound of her sloppy finger thrusting in and out of you as her lips mercilessly sucked on your clit.

“Not God, honey,” she playfully muttered against your core.

“Shut the fuck—,” you were cut off by a loud moan. “Flo, I’m close… I’m so close,” it came out as a cry as the knot in your stomach felt so tight that any second now would snap.

“Come, baby,” her words were muffled. “Be a good girl and come.”

And you wanted to be that good girl she deserved, the good girl she loved, the good girl she knew you were, so you did. With a loud cry, followed by a cursed and mumbling her name over and over again, you came in her mouth as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as your hand brought her head closer to you if it was possible, as you almost strangled her with your leg wrapping around her head.

“There you go,” she said as her tongue helped you ride out your high and as she made sure to suck in every single drop of your sweet juices.

Your whole body went limp as she sucked the very last drop of your cum. And when she was done, her lips met yours, making you have a taste of yourself.

“So good to me…” she whispered over your lips. “My good girl did so good,” she said, as she placed a sweet kiss on your forehead and watched a shade of red creeping on your cheeks as you giggled.

She felt her heart melting, she had just eaten you out and now you were blushing and giggling just by a few words. Oh, how lucky she was. You were in fact her good girl, and the thought brought a smile to her face.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#florence pugh #florence pugh x fem reader #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh smut #littlexscarletxwitch's fic #requests by lovely anons ‘๑’

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alotofpockets · 1 month

Text

Red carpet date | Florence Pugh x Reader

Summary: Where Florence takes you on a date to The Oscars.

Marvel masterlist | Words: 1k

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When you first started dating Florence, a whole new world opened for you. The movie sets, and early wake up calls. The award shows, and interviews. The fame, and being recognised in the streets. All of it was new. To you Florence had never been the movie star that the world knew, she was the girl you met at a bar. The girl who charmed her way into your heart with her quirky personality, and contagious laughter.

People around you kept telling you that dating someone from such a different world would never work out, but the two of you had been going strong for two years. She became a part of your world, and you had become a part of hers.

Her fans loved it when you would show up in the background of Flo's cooking videos, or when she would post pictures of the two of you together. At first it was weird to you that people shipped you with your girlfriend, or told you that the two were goals, but now it flattered you to see people supporting your relationship in such big amounts.

Tonight wasn’t the first award show you would go to as Florence’s date, but it was the biggest one. The Oscars, you grew up watching your favourite actors and actresses being nominated and winning trophies, but you had never imagined attending the event yourself one day. By now you were used to the hair- and makeup team invading your hotel room before big events, helping the both of you get ready. Florence was having the time of her life getting to know the people who were working on her, while you were simply listening to the world around you. Florence was good at the talking part, and you often just followed her lead in those moments that were slightly outside of your comfort zone. You didn’t mind though, you could listen to Florence talk for the rest of your life, and be happy. She always showed interest in every person in the room, and you only loved her for it more.

Once you were fully ready and had taken a bunch of pictures at the hotel, you headed down to the car. The original plan was for you to join Florence in the backseat of the car, but as soon as she got in a problem arose. “I-” Florence was trying not to burst out laughing, “I can’t bend my legs.” You looked inside the car and found your girlfriend laying on the whole backseat with an awkward smile and two thumbs up. It was hard for you to not laugh and snap a quick picture of the scene in front of you.

Luckily both you and Florence were ready to adapt at any given moment, so you hopped in the passenger seat and joined the driver in the front. When you arrived at The Oscars, Florence had to basically be dragged out of the car to not ruin the dress she was wearing. Since you weren’t allowed to help, to keep your outfit in good shape, you filmed the process, knowing how much the two of you would laugh at it when you would be watching it back.

When Florence was successfully removed from the car, the team did some quick touch ups on the both of you, before you could head to the red carpet. It was probably your least favourite part of events, with all the camera’s flashing, and photographers yelling directions, but you knew that it wasn’t Florence her favourite either. Plus you knew you would get some great pictures from both her and the two of you together at the end. Florence walked the carpet first, she looked absolutely stunning in her dress, and the decor was so beautiful. Pink flowers were featured on the white backdrop, creating gorgeous reflections in your girlfriend’s dress. You were so mesmerised by her that you hadn’t noticed that Florence was holding her hand out to you, until a staff member nudged you to walk the carpet.

You posed with Florence for a moment, before you walked the rest of the carpet hand in hand. The room you ended up in was gigantic, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Soon the room filled with thousands of people. Actors, actresses, directors, screenwriters, you name it, they were there. Big names were all around you, while you had gotten used to that a little bit, you still fangirled when someone you loved watching walked past you, and Florence was just the same.

Oppenheimer was nominated for a total of thirteen Oscars, which was insane to begin with, but watching the movie your girlfriend was in win in the categories over and over again, was even crazier. Watching her walk onto the stage of the event you grew up watching, to accept an Oscar along with the rest of the Oppenheimer crew, brought tears to your eyes. You were so immensely proud of her, and everyone that had worked so hard on a movie that Florence had loved working on so much.

The rest of the evening was great too. Everyone was so happy for and supportive of all the winners, which made the whole event have a great atmosphere. Not to forget the fun you were currently having at the after party. Dancing around with Florence, and some of her friends in a room full of famous strangers, you felt so comfortable with her by your side.

“What was your favourite part of tonight?” Florence asked as you got back into the car, this time being able to share the backseat, as her after party dress allowed for more movement. “My favourite part was you.” You say with a sly smile. “The serious answer is watching you up on that stage has to be top of the list. I am so proud of you, my love, you all deserve the recognition that the movie is getting so much.” Yor let your hand fall to her thigh and give it a soft squeeze. “What about yours?” She put her hand down on yours. “Oppenheimer winning so many Oscars was incredible, but nothing beats dancing with you baby.”

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#florence pugh #florencepugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x fem!reader #florence pugh imagine #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #mcu imagine #mcu x reader

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floshoe · 11 months

Text

ruining you

summary; you fear florence being with you will ruin her reputation

pairing; florence pugh x female reader

warnings; fluff, angst, hate comments, false accusations, talk of unwanted advances

this was written a while ago so i decided to just post it <3

dating florence pugh is one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. her bright smiles and positive attitude made you’re life so much more bearable.

you two met at the beginning of your respective careers. gaining the support of your friends, family, fans, and other celebrities. people often fawned over your guys’ love. the way you two would gaze at each other on the red carpet, your chemistry when acting and doing interviews together. even to your body language in paparazzi pictures.

everyone loved you guys. until the incident.

a fan had come up to you and asked for a picture. that was all. next thing you knew she had posted all over social media that you had gotten a little too friendly with her and it made her uncomfortable. but all you had done was stand next to her for the picture. and she posted the picture but created a whole story about how you had made advances in her.

it was worse when you found out she was a minor.

so she did her best to discredit you, and she was somehow successful. she was able to make the entirety of hollywood turn on you: good friends, people you’d come to know, and your fans.

florence was away filming her own movie when this happened. you were honestly terrified that she would see you the way everyone else did.

but to your surprise, when she came home, she had asked you what happened.

“i don’t know, i was just talking to her and took a picture with her. but now i’m fucked all ruined because of rumors that has no consistency!” you had exasperated to her.

she didn’t know what else to do so she just climbed into your arms and held you to help you calm down. you spent the rest of the night in her arms.

that was 6 months ago. you were lucky that she, in her words, was going to be the bigger person and not press charges. so you weren’t in any legal trouble.

florence’s career was even higher than what is was at when you guys’ met, and you couldn’t be prouder. you wish you could support her in a way other than the in sidelines but you couldn’t do that without an atrocious amount of hate.

towards both you and florence.

anytime florence is seen with you she has fans who question her unproblematic status.

“how can she be so perfect and then be with y/n?”

“why is she with such a terrible person?”

“florence deserves way better than y/n.”

“if florence is still with y/n after what she did, how can she be any better?”

this is what you were scared of, her being with you hurting her career. you didn’t want her meet the same fate as you. you wanted to watch her succeed at what she loves. even if you had to watch through a screen.

florence loves you, she couldn’t imagine her life without you. you’ve shown her an unimaginable amount of support since you met. you’ve helped her prepare for roles, helped bring her back to earth, you held her when things got rough, and made her feel: normal.

when the accusations first popped up she thought they would be gone as soon as they came. but they didn’t. your career plummeted and it was hard. she had to watch as her girlfriend, the same woman who was just as passionate about acting as she was, lose her career.

she hated that she couldn’t do anything about it, she begged you to let her speak up but you told her that it would just hurt her.

but she didn’t care.

being with you has been the best decision that she’s ever made and she’ll be damned if she lets some stupid rumor tear you apart. her patience was gone the second someone got physical with you.

she ran to you as soon as you walked into your shared apartment to greet you. but stopped when she saw you had a light pink washcloth on your forehead.

“what happened?!” she frowned.

“nothing, i’m fine,” you try not to let your voice crack.

“please,” she whisper as she lightly cups your cheeks with her hands. her eyes scanning your exhausted face, she notices your messy hair, runny makeup, and you were breathing heavily.

you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“i was just walking to the store to get some of the stuff you said you needed for dinner,” you start.

she leads you to the couch and sits next to you and replaces your hand with hers on your head.

“apparently that wasn’t a good idea because one of your hardcore ‘fans’ decided that it would be a good idea to throw something at my head.”

florence’s frown deepens when she hears one of her supporters was the reason for your injury.

“that’s it, i’m saying something.” she says and gets up, but not before guiding your hand to your head to hold the washcloth.

“flo, no,” you try to tell her but she cuts you off.

“no! no more of this ‘it’ll hurt you’ crap. you have been literally assaulted! this is not okay!” she yells. “i’m not gonna stand by and watch as someone i love gets torn apart for no reason!”

her statement makes you go silent so she walks to grab her phone and walks into her office. she doesn’t come back out until an hour later.

days after florence posted on instagram in your defense, her fans started to turn on her. she was losing followers at a scary rate and you couldn’t stand by and watch her destroy her career for you.

“florence, i think we should take a break,” you tell her as you’re getting ready for bed.

“what?” the hurt in her making you want to say nevermind and get into bed with her.

“we should take a break. being with me is hurting your career, your reputation, being with me is everything but helping you.”

florence couldn’t believe what you were saying; you’ve been together for years and she couldn’t believe social status was about to end her relationship.

“no,” she says.

“no?”

“no!” she yells and gets out of bed. “no! you do not get to leave me because of this. i’m with you because i love you, and i don’t care that people are starting to turn on me. you are what i need, not fame, you.”

“you’ve been to doing this since you were a kid! are you really willing to give that up for me?” you question.

“yes! and it’s not your right to tell me what i can and cannot do with my life. especially since i know you don’t want to leave,” she frowns.

you take a deep breathe and look at your hands, “flo-”

“shh,” she whispers and cups your face to kiss your lips. “we’ll figure this out okay? together.”

you sigh and nod your head, “okay.”

#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh imagine

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be-missed · 7 months

Text

Like Mum!

Florence Pugh x Wife!Reader

Summary: While doing a Cooking with Flo on live, her wife surprised her with a daughter who shaved her head on her grandparents house during a weekend vacation.

A/N: So Florence and R are married and they have a daughter.

Masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So after doing that, we need to dice the onions and garlics, lots of garlics of course" Florence starts to dice the said ingredients while going on live on her Instagram.

"No way... NO way my love. What happened?", Florence heard her wife scream from their living room, curious about the situation, she then shouted back "What happened darling? Everything alright?".

A few seconds pass and she doesn't hear a response from her wife that made her much more curious about the mystery that is happening in their living room.

"Well guys, I need to check up on my girls, hold on for a sec yeah?", Florence stated as she went off the camera and started to walk from their kitchen to the living room.

As she is nearing the room, she heard her parents laughing in the phone since her wife is face timing her daughter from Florence's Parents house and Florence saw her wife on the carpet stifling a laugh while shedding a tear.

Florence got to her wife's level and asked "What happened my love? Why are you laughing huh? Everything fine? I heard you earlier and thought something happened?" As confused as she can be, Florence heard her Mom on the phone and told Y/N "Okay, now her grandpa is fixing her hair."

Now Florence is much more clueless on the things that are happening. Her wife laughing her ass out and her mom telling her wife about fixing a hair cut.

So what Florence did is she take the phone that was laying on the ground and saw her daughter sitting on the bathroom sink, a smile on her face, her dad shaving her daughter's head.

"What...WHAT IS HAPPENING BABY? What happened?" she asked baffled by the things that she saw while Y/N just laugh out loud again, laughing from the reaction of her wife.

"What happened mum? Why is Elise getting her hair shaved?" Florence asked her mom, still confused.

Her mom answered, "Oh well, she saw a picture of you a few years back, you know, from when you shaved your head and told us she wants to also have that hair cut." still giggling from the things that are happening in her household.

Baffled by her mom's answer, Florence asked "How did she ended up like that?" and Y/N answered her wife "Well your dad was shaving his beard and Elise was watching, so when your father put the razor down, Elise run it through her front hair" while giggling in between "I have pictures of it baby, I will show it to you."

Florence finds it amusing that her wife is laughing so hard while their daughter is getting her hair shaved off.

"Okay, all done, go and say hello to your moms young lady" Florence's dad said as he brush of the fallen hair from his grandchild's shoulder.

"Hi Mum! I look like you now, LOOK!" as her daughter pointed to her ipad with Florence's picture with her hair shaved off "I look like Mum now, I'm so pretty" Elise added with a giddy on her voice.

"Yes my love, you look so lovely, I can't wait to see it in person." Florence said as she shakes her head wondering her child be as adventurous as her.

Y/N chimes in "Yes baby, you look so lovely, and you look like Mum now. I can't wait to see you later."

They ended the call with good byes and a few kisses.

Florence ended up laying down on their carpet, trying to process things "Wow, from all of my hair choices, she chose that" with a giggle on her voice and a sigh.

Y/N lays on top of Florence and said "Well she got it from you, you know. You're adventurous, wild, ready to try new things, and sometimes crazy, also a risk taker" and kisses Florence softly on her cheeks.

Florence smiles at the tenderness that her wife showed. "Well, she did really nail it, she looks like me." Florence stated amusingly at how her and her child are alike.

"Yes, you two are both alike, my lovely and wonderful girls" Y/N said and cuddled more into Florence's neck.

They are enjoying the quiet, not until they hear their fire alarm blaring because of the smoke that was coming out from their kitchen.

"SHIT I WAS COOKING" Florence got up from her position and almost throw her wife away from her to save her dish.

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#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh x you #florence pugh

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greynatomy · 9 months

Text

Who The Hell Are you?

Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader

This is a chapter from my wattpad book that I haven’t had any motivation writing from, but is one of my favorite chapters so I wanted to share it on here.

I changed my oc’s name to yn so if you see a name that’s not natasha or yelena then that was my oc.

Let me know what you think!

-grey

———

Standing in the kitchen, Yelena hears someone trying to pick the lock on the front door.

“I know you’re out there.” She says to the person on the other side of the door.

“I know you know I’m out here.” She hears a woman’s voice muffled by the door.

The door opens, then slams shut. Yelena grabs her gun, waiting for the woman to come closer.

“Then why are you skulking about like it’s a minefield?” She asks, pointing the gun in front of her.

“‘Cause I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Chuckling, “Funny, I was going to say the same thing.”

“So, we gonna talk like grown-ups?”

Turning the corner, Yelena points the gun at the woman. “Is that what we are?”

Both women point the gun at each other, Yelena slowly walks backwards as Natasha walks forwards.

“Put it down before I make you.”

“You put yours down.” Natasha replies.Yelena trips, “Watch you step.” Yelena chuckles softly.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen, They both grab the others’ gun, quickly pointing it back at each other.

Yelena and Natasha are now impatient, starts kicking each other. Yelena grabs Natasha and slams her to the walls. Switching it up, Natasha then grabs Yelena’s face and lifts her up to crash into the cabinet over the sink. Pushing her face down, Natasha tries to get her to stop fighting.

“Stay down. Stay down. Stay down!”

Letting out a scream, Yelena grabs a plate and smashes it on Natasha’s head. Grabbing a towel, it quickly gets wrapped around her neck, but uses it to her advantage to flip Natasha over her into a door breaking the glass.

Slowly getting up, staring at each other to intimidate, Yelena grabs a knife from the kitchen and stalks towards Natasha.

Trying to find something to use, Natasha sees a stapler and grabs it just before Yelena swings the knife at her. Swinging their desired weapons at each other, the take turns, blow for blow, kick for kick, hoping one would give up.

Both weapons quickly get disarmed by the other, Yelena tackles Natasha into the wall, Natasha grabbing the curtains off its rod and wraps it around Yelena’s neck, Yelena doing the same to Natasha after dropping her on the floor.

Both laying on the floor, cutting off each other’s breathing, Yelena being the stubborn one, won’t give up first.

“перемирие.” Truce. Natasha says, holding a hand out.

Letting go, Yelena gasps for air, unwrapping the curtain from her neck. Both laying on the floor for a bit, Yelena tries to catch her breath.

“ты вырос.” You’ve grown up.

“Ни хрена.” No shit. Yelena says, getting up from the floor. She walks to the kitchen, grabbing the vodka from the refrigerator and some shot glasses.

“You had to come to Budapest, didn't you?” Natasha asks, following Yelena.

“I came here because I thought you wouldn’t. But since you’re here, what bullet does that?” Yelena asks pouring some shots, then pointing at the wall.

Natasha looks behind her. “Not bullets. Arrows.”

“Ah, right.” She says, taking a shot.

“If you didn’t think I’d come here, why’d you send me these?” Natasha ask, putting the familiar bunch of vials on the table.

“You brought it back here?” Yelena walks away, Natasha following closely behind.

“I’m not here trying to be your friend, but you need to tell me what that is.”

“It’s a synthetic gas. The counter agent to chemical subjugation. The gas immunizes the brain’s neuropathways from external manipulation.” She explains, grabbing a bag.

“Maybe in English next time?”

“Это противоядие от контроля над разумом.” It’s an antidote to mind control.

“настоящая зрелая.” Real mature. Natasha replies, rolling her eyes.

“Why don’t you take it to one of your super-scientist friends? They can explain it to you. Tony Stark, maybe?” She asks, packing her bag with clothes and weapons.

“Oh, yeah. We’re not really talking right now, so…”

“Great. Perfect timing. Where’s an Avenger when you need one?”

“I don’t want to be here. I’m on the run. You could’ve gotten me killed.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do? You’re the only superhero person that I know.”

Suddenly, they both hear the front door open and close. Natasha quickly puts a new shirt on, grabbing a gun, while Yelena freezes, wide-eyed.

“Yelena Belova!” They both hear. Natasha points the gun at the door.

“Дерьмо.” Shit. Yelena grabs Natasha’s gun, lowering it. Natasha looks confused as to why Yelena looks nervous and not grabbing a weapon.

“Что, черт возьми, ты сделал?” What the hell did you do? Yelena starts to chew on her bottom lip, not moving from where she’s standing. “Лучше тащи свою задницу сюда, прямо сейчас.” You better get you ass over here, right now.

Yelena slowly walks out the door, to the kitchen, Natasha quietly follows behind, still being alert.

“Привет дорогая.” Hi, sweetheart.

“Не говори мне "Привет, дорогая". Что случилось?” Don't 'Hi, sweetheart' me. What happened? Yn irritatedly asks, hands on both of her hips.

“Well, you see, it was not all my fault.”

“Oh, yeah? Enlighten me. Who else did this?”

“She did.” Yelena says, pointing at the wall behind her.

“Funny. No one is there.”

“Wha-” She looks behind her not seeing Natasha. “Come out from behind the wall.”

Natasha slowly walks from the other side of the wall, revealing herself.

“Ah, Natasha Romanoff.” Yn scans her up and down. “Do you usually come to peoples homes and destroy things?” She sarcastically asks.

Yelena let’s out a snort, seeing Natasha shrink from Yn’s intimidating gaze.

“Uh, well, n-no.” Clearing her throat, Natasha puts her tough act back in front and asks, “Who the hell are you?”

“Yelena, it is very rude to not introduce me.” She says, poring herself two shots of vodka, downing each, right after the other. Natasha looks at Yelena, hoping to get an answer.

Yelena let’s put a loud sigh. “Natasha meet Yn… my wife.”

“Wife?!”

“I know. I can’t believe I married her either.” Yn say, walking up to Yelena to give her a peck on the cheek.

“Замолчи.” Shut up. She says, rolling her eyes, letting a small smirk show. “Okay, we are getting distracted.” Yelena says, becoming serious again. Turning back to Natasha, “I kept checking the news, expecting to see Captain America bringing down the Red Room.”

“What?” Natasha asks, shocked. “Taking down the Red Room? What are you talking about? It’s been gone for years. Dreykov’s dead. I killed him.”

Letting out a small laugh, “You don’t actually believe that, do you?” Yn asks. Seeing the look on Natasha’s face, she turns to Yelena, “She really does believe that.”

“Dreykov’s dead. It took almost destroying the entire city just to get to him.”

“If you’re so sure, then tell us what happened. Tell us exactly.”

“We rigged bombs.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“Clint Barton. Killing Dreykov was the final step in the deflection to S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Nodding and shrugging, “Simple as that?”

“Yeah, sure, ‘simple.’” She states, walking away from the couple. “That’s what I’d call imploding a five-story building and then shooting it out with the Hungarian Special Forces. Took ten days in hiding before we could even get out of Budapest.”

“And you checked the body?” Yelena asks, grabbing a gun off the floor, stuffing it in her pants. “Confirmed the kill?”

“There was no body left to check.”

“Oh, come on. You’re Natasha Romanoff. THE BLACK WIDOW and you don’t do something as simple as making sure he is actually dead. A body does not just disappear.” After a moment of silence, “You’re also forgetting about Dreykov’s daughter.”

The three of them freeze, hearing muffled footsteps. The ceiling suddenly explodes, creating a hole. Yelena snatches the vials, stuffing them in her bag. Yn follows her, pushing them both to the wall.

Widows are flooding into the door. Carefully peaking around the corner, Yelena sees two Widows jump down from the hole they created in the ceiling. Running across the room to a different room, Natasha grabs them both and slams them into the wall. Yelena reaches and turns the knob, making all the lights explode.

Momentarily distracted, Natasha, Yelena, and Yn take down a couple windows and makes a run out the front door. Peaking to see the other Widows, Natasha hides behind a wall as they start to shoot at her, same with Yelena. Yn grabs a grenade from Yelena’s bag and throws it downstairs to the Windows.

Running up the stairs Natasha asks, “Where are we trying to get?”

“Motorbike! East side of the building.” Yelena answers.

Jumping out the window, onto the roof, the trio try to run as fast as they could to the motorbike. Jumping and sliding down the roof. Finding a metal pole thing, Yelena quickly unlatches some screws and pushes her foot on the side of the roof, to disconnect it.

A Widow that has been chasing them jumps off the roof and onto the pole, slipping, but Natasha grabs onto her.

“I got you!” However, the Widow grabs her knife and slices Natasha’s hand, making her let go, so she falls. “No!”

The pole crashes to the side of the building, Yn and Yelena crashes into a window as Natasha falls off the side, crashing into the vents in the way.

Yelena groans and slowly gets up, using the wall for support. She limps over to where her wife is laying. “Yn, hey. Are you okay?”

“Lena, yeah. We have to go.”

Running down the stairs, out the door to where Natasha is, Yelena and Yn come to an abrupt stop, seeing her standing over a dead Widow.

Putting the vial back with the other’s being too late to free her, “Do you believe us now?” Yelena softly asks.

“How many others?”

“Enough.”

262 notes · View notes

randombush3 · 1 year

Text

But She’s A Stranger

florence pugh x footballer!reader

summary: originally titled ‘saved’, because that’s what you and this blonde woman seem to be doing for each other

words: 10048

warnings: none (😮)

notes: okay i know i said no more football fics, but i couldn’t help myself. i really couldn’t and you’re going to have to deal with that!

a few of my fav things about writing this include having to check flo’s instagram to see what hairstyle she’s had at what time, creating multiple timelines of club transfers to keep things consistent, and learning catalan! i speak spanish and quite a bit of french so it could have been worse. i also don’t explicitly say this (i think) but the reader played for wolfsburg when she was in germany.

January is fucking freezing. The wind is biting and it rains a lot, clouds lingering, having had to hide for Christmas. The days are grey and dark, trainings are hard, and you’re miserable about being stuck in England after spending a week in Cuba.

You walk down Portobello Road simply because your sister forced you to watch that Hugh Grant rom-com and you’ve got a bit of time before you need to get back to St. Albans. After exploring most of the main road, you stray into a side street, and then another… and another. Until you’re slightly lost (very lost) and in need of food.

Florence Pugh is having a peaceful cup of coffee to make her feel like she’s had a productive day.

Her head snaps to the door when the bell chimes. People don’t often come in here. You sort-of-stumble inside, first looking as if you’re going to walk right out, then settling.

While she is sitting at her usual table (the one in the corner, always with a tulip in the vase), you are aimlessly flitting from seat to seat, deciding on whether this place is worth your precious time. Something about the confusion in your eyes draws Flo in, try as she might to remain incognito. “It’s good,” is all she says, barely looking up from her book, not wanting to have the safety of anonymity stripped away. You glance at the pale blue ceramic mug sitting on her table, and walk to the counter.

“Please could I have whatever she has,” you tell the barista, who takes a moment to understand what you’ve said and then nods with a smug smile. She had been hoping someone would have a little coffee romance in her café.

“Would you like that to go?”

You check your watch.

Hòstia.

Maybe you got carried away on your adventure.

It’s 3.47pm.

Jonas requested everyone meet for team bowling at four, expecting most of you to have been eating lunch together anyway (as that usually happens on Saturdays with the Arsenal women’s football team). Even if you weren’t known to be the most punctual on the squad, getting to St. Albans for that time when it’s 3.47pm now is impossible.

You smile nervously at the woman serving you, and Flo is now intrigued as to why such a beautiful woman looks so terrified.

“Yeah, to go would be great, thanks.” She nods and you are left waiting there, foot tapping, time ticking, nowhere interesting to look other than into those green eyes peering at you from the other side of the room. “Could you… Could you make it quickly, please?”

Flo snorts.

Someone’s just invaded her little sanctuary and then told the barista to hurry up, and she can’t help but find the awkwardness fucking attractive. Like you’re some action in a tranquil day, a rain cloud in a blue sky.

Zach is going to be listening to a very long rant about this later.

It strikes her that you seem different to anyone else she has ever met, though she can barely say to have met you. The way you carry yourself with an air of importance but a dash of humility, the way an accent she can’t place curls around your words, the way you frown at your phone as you furiously type away text after text at the object of your frustration.

The way your eyes meet hers when you realise you’re being stared at.

Before she can defend herself, give you some bullshit about the wall behind you, the barista hands you your coffee. “Thank you,” you say, smiling, though it feels a little ingenuine considering the speed the words tumble out.

As you switch your phone off and reach out to the machine in front of you, the barista grimaces. “Our card machine is broken, sorry. It’s cash only.”

Well she didn’t mention that before.

You gave your last bits of cash to Jordan, having lost some stupid bet about how many of her shots you could save. She said you’d keep a clean sheet; you were humble and said she’d get one past you.

“Merda,” you mutter. Looking up at the barista, you reply, “I’m so sorry, but I don’t have any cash on me,” a little panicked and ready to risk it all by dashing out of the shop.

You and the barista exchange a helpless look. She needs the money, but you don’t have it. It’s frankly super awkward, and makes Flo squirm in her seat. She really has to put a stop to this, she can’t bear to watch you and the barista be struck dumb any longer.

She stands and walks over to you, “here,” handing the barista a fiver and trying her best to ignore how your jaw goes slack. Have you recognised her?

(No, you’re just wondering how it’s possible to be this attracted to a stranger.)

(Like, this is one of those moments when you truly are no better than a man.)

“Oh!” you exclaim, finding words again. “You don’t—”

“It’s okay,” she says calmly, though she feels anything but. You have eyes that seem to pierce through her. “You can just buy me—”

But whatever smooth remark she is about to make is plucked from her tongue and swallowed by an aggressively abnormal ringtone. It’s a new experience to be shut down by a duck quacking, and an unwelcome one too.

You grimace once again, finding that this supposedly simple detour has caused more chaos than £5.00 coffee is worth. The caller in question is Beth Mead, recently granted close-friend status after she found you mid panic attack in the gym having been overwhelmed by the watt bike, having to constantly use your third language, and the fact that Ona was being a little standoffish the last time you spoke (you were being dramatic — she hung up on you in favour of going clubbing with her own team). Beth won’t tell you this, but Jonas realised you were struggling in London at the start of the season and asked her to keep an eye on you.

Keeping an eye on you has, apparently, turned her into your mother.

“Where are you?” is what she greets you with, her annoyance drowning out the faint sounds of a bowling alley in the background. “You can’t skip mandatory team bonding.” After a pause, the woman on the other end of the line seems to soften. “Are you okay? You’re not lost, are you?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh, glancing at the stranger who you are now in debt to. She’s retreated back to her table, accepting defeat, allowing the universe to quell her potential one-night-stand or more. “I’m in Notting Hill. I got distracted by a café, but I’ll be on my way shortly.”

“You’ll be here in an hour, then,” says Beth, unimpressed. “I’m telling Jonas that you got lost, it’ll save you a lecture.”

“Thank you.” You’re grateful for Beth. “I’ll call a taxi now.”

Florence looks at you dumbly. You spare her a concerned look, but then realise she may have been… No, that’s absurd.

“Thank you,” you say once more, this time directed at the blonde, the curve of your lips undeniably attractive and the glint in your eye even more so. Flo nods curtly, attempting to save face, and then forces her eyes back onto Dune. It’s far less interesting than that entire interaction, but what can she do?

The door of the café shuts with a little click, the bell chiming once more, but Flo refuses to watch you leave. That’s creepy, she tells herself.

In truth, as you get into the taxi pulled up outside, you glance back at her, wondering who she is. Why does she look familiar?

You’re seconds away from figuring it out, having a right old lesbian ponder in the car, when Beth pops her head through the abruptly opened car door. “Hola,” she tries, “estas aqui, finalmente.”

“Sí, estoy aqui,” you reply, grinning. She realises your smile might be slightly mocking, pride replaced with slight frustration. “You tried. I’m sure you will improve.”

“It’s not fair if I’m trying to make you more comfortable and you keep talking to me in English,” she groans, but you wave her off.

“I’m grateful, but I need to practice my English.” The pretty blonde woman is worth the struggle. Not that you’re going to talk to her anytime soon. Because you don’t have her number. Or know her name. So really this is all a fantasy, and you’re being a little wistful and probably very horny. Thinking about it, the last time you slept with someone was at least two months ago, and even then it wasn’t the most mind-blowing night of your life. It’s not like the pretty blonde woman is your soulmate.

- - -

She becomes a dream for about a month, something that maybe happened but has become somewhat a fantasy.

As usual, your mother nags you about needing to date someone every time you call her, but unlike previous times where you find it easy to protest and defend your independence (loneliness), you understand what she means.

It’s so fucking stupid that you’re obsessed with a stranger, but it’s the truth.

How embarrassing.

On the 27th February, you forgo playing against Liverpool in favour of attending a big fundraiser for a mental health charity; an event your brother has strongly encouraged you to go to.

You realise why when you get there.

The banner adorning the entrance to the venue clearly states who tonight’s host is: Tomàs L/n. There is the same picture of him plastered around the place; chest puffed out proudly, his Barcelona kit underneath a blazer. No wonder he was so mysterious about this thing. His lack of warning means you actually have to do little interviews, wondering if anyone really cares what you have to say.

“How do you feel about your brother’s recent increase in his involvement with this charity?” a reporter asks you, mic held to your face as if you have an opinion on this.

“I think it’s good,” you reply vaguely. “It’s good to support something you are passionate about.” You can’t say anything else because you haven’t been briefed by his (admittedly over-bearing) publicist.

“You’re missing a match for this, despite playing time being hard to get for goalkeepers. Is family more important to you than your career — seeing as you need the minutes to be selected for the upcoming Euros?”

An odd question, but okay.

Minutes are difficult, but you’ve been first choice all season. The Euros squad will be finalised in early June, though your agent is confident in your selection. “I think that supporting my family should always come first.” You smile. You’re on camera. “And it is a good cause.”

There’s a surge of movement behind you, shuffling and shouting, clamouring for attention. Cameras begin to flash excessively, and before you can turn around, your brother is beside you.

“Hi,” he greets the reporter, grinning with sparkling teeth and a glint in his eye. “Could I borrow her, thanks!” He places a hand on your shoulder and steers you further into the crowd until you reach a corner that isn’t deserted enough to draw attention to the two of you. It being towards the back of the venue makes it somewhere that feels less exposed than the edges nearing the press

“Fuck you,” you hiss in Catalan, happy to switch back to something natural now that you’re alone. “You’re such a dickhead.” He came all the way from Spain to host this event, but you suspect this isn’t the actual reason for his trip.

“Am not,” comes his indignant reply. You scoff, rolling your eyes at his ridiculous ensemble. “Oh, you don’t like the suit? Cèlia said the same. Dolce&Gabbana sent it.”

“Yeah, well, your wife and I are right. It’s awful.” It’s very… loud. Crimson with golden roses. “I’m getting a headache just looking at you.”

“No,” he waves off with a smirk, “that’s from hitting your head against the goalpost.”

“You saw that?” you ask, scrunching your nose up at the memory. You had saved the ball at the price of a few brain cells, luckily scraping a pass in the concussion test you were forced to sit through.

“I’ve started watching your games more,” he admits earnestly. “Barça want you back, you know. You could come home.”

So this is why he’s here.

“To not be played at all?” you retort, walls going right up.

“They’d be crazy to not put you in goal now, and it’s good to play with the national team in the league. That’s easier if you’re actually in the country.” National camps have been going just fine. “I mean, haven’t you had enough of hiding abroad?”

You think about it for a moment. “Not really, no.” An indignant scoff follows, and then, “I have been back, you know. I flew to Barcelona that one time — and then I got the train from there to Madrid.” Plus, your old teammates (and national teammates) go on enough holidays for you to scrape by nervously in Ibiza and Mallorca, and relax in countries further away.

“Y/n, she left the country four years ago. You couldn’t possibly run into her.”

“My chances of that are even smaller in England,” you state firmly. You spent three years in Germany and she still managed to find you twice, conveniently appearing in her stupid, American law firm’s Munich office.. Away from mainland Europe is a safer bet, surely. “Maybe you could copy me and transfer to Arsenal, just like you copied me when I got into the Barcelona academy.”

- - -

Florence hates events held by footballers.

She rarely goes, and doesn’t if avoidable, but the cause is a good one and her publicist wants the media to paint her as a passive advocate for mental health awareness. Nothing too abrasive, but a quiet reminder of her support. It’s quite clever, really.

Sulking in the corner, she sips her martini with a scowl, watching the crowd wearily. The invitees are not her type of people and most seem to have cleared out Dolce&Gabbana’s SALE rack. The guy in front of her is the perfect example, golden roses sprawling across the back of his crimson blazer.

Internally, she rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her drink. This is unbelievable and won’t get interesting until the auction in two hours.

The man in front of her steps to the side slightly, revealing that he hasn’t been talking to himself but rather to someone who looks strangely familiar.

Your eyes meet hers and there’s a moment where you both go into mild panic mode. The recognition in your stare quickly turns into desperation as your mouth moves rapidly to reply to your brother’s opinions. Florence doesn’t understand the conversation at all, but realises she’s being asked for help.

The confidence people see in her usually isn’t real, but she squares her shoulders and walks up to you and the man.

“There you are!” She’s an actress for a reason. “I was just about to get another drink — I’ve been looking for you for ages.”

Your brother’s eyes narrow.

She slips an arm around your waist, hiding any shock about your muscular form, pretending she knows your name. You lean into her.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Flo has half a mind to send him a glare, but you do it for her. “Tomàs, no hi tonaré.”

The venom in your tone does something to Flo’s blood pressure. It’s sort of… sexy.

“What was that about?” she asks once you’re by the bar, snapping you out of a moody trance.

“My brother?” Your brother is Tomàs L/n. Interesting. (If Flo knew the first thing about the football world, she’d have realised who you were by now, but she doesn’t and so you remain nameless.) “He was being stupid. It doesn’t matter now. Thank you for saving me.”

She finds that she would’ve done it again in a heartbeat, which is a little weird considering she doesn’t know who you are. Flo secretly decides to chalk that one down to having just gotten out of a long-term relationship and needing someone to latch onto.

“No problem,” she replies with a smile. “I believe you owe me a drink…”

You smile. “Two martinis, please.” The bartender nods, looking exasperated by the demands of the overflowing bar.

“That’s my favourite,” Flo says — sort of whispers — as she bashfully looks away. The faint blush creeping up her neck and cheeks is hidden well enough by the blue lighting of the place. “How was your coffee?”

For a moment, you look at her blankly and her heart drops with embarrassment. Then, you let out a little laugh.

“I didn’t drink it. It spilled all over me in the taxi!”

“All that stress for nothing, huh?”

Not nothing, you think, but you’re not brave enough to tell her that. “I was recently introduced to Café Nero, and that tastes the most—”

“No!” Flo explains, pressing her hand to her heart. “That’s unacceptable.” You shake your head, laughing more, and she wants nothing but to hear it on repeat for the rest of her life.

“British coffee is unacceptable,” you answer, rolling your eyes. “But I found this place called Reinetta the other day. Very Spanish, very brilliant.”

“Are you from Spain?”

What a genius.

Your incredulous look quickly goes when you realise she’s serious.

“Yeah!” She notices how your smile grows wider but your eyes become a little haunted. “Hablo español,” you say with a smirk, sending her a superfluous wink.

And, if the bartender hadn’t interrupted by serving you your drinks, you would be well aware of how red she goes.

She takes a sip, groaning in appreciation. “This is a good—” She turns around suddenly, squinting at the woman waving at her in the crowd looking furious. “Fuck, I can’t believe I forgot. I’ve got to go.” You catch sight of the person she’s looking at; a stern-faced publicist wading her way through the mass of people to get to her client. In a last ditch attempt of actually getting to know you, she throws out, “you should totally show me this Spanish coffee place,” and rushes off to meet her publicist.

You stand stock-still. Stunned. Oh, that definitely gave you goosebumps.

The rest of your evening is mostly passive aggressive. With hardly anyone else to talk to, you end up hovering in whatever conversation circle your brother is in.

At the soonest possible moment, you leave and join the late-night recovery dinner at Beth’s house, earning wolf-whistles from everyone as you bundle through the door in your formal attire. Beth tells you to change almost immediately, throwing you a t-shirt and jog pants. “Recovery is all about wearing pyjamas,” she says, matter-of-fact. “And eating.”

“What have you made?”

She gives you a wry grin. “Come find out.”

The girls are sitting around her table, eagerly awaiting your arrival so they can tuck in. Jordan, Katie, Jen, Steph, and (surprisingly) Viv are all eyeing the food like starving wolves would look at a herd of sheep. It smells good and familiar and like Beth has kidnapped your abuela and chained her to a paella pan…?

You seem to fill with energy at the sight of the dish, and Katie announces she’s done being patient, spooning a hefty portion onto her plate and prompting Steph to do the same. They begin eating while you remain a little taken aback.

Beth nudges you. “I called Less and practically begged her to give me Ona’s number last week, sending her a text once I got it — to which your friend took bloody ages to reply. And then she was very difficult about when she could FaceTime, so when we eventually could I ended up making a mini version of her paella and memorising the recipe.” Her rambling is nervous. “But I sent her a picture of this one and she said it looked delicious.”

“Déu n’hi do, it looks delicious,” you agree, sitting down as quickly as possible and piling some onto your plate. Mouth now full, you continue, “it tastes like my mother’s cooking! It’s great, Beth, really.”

“She can cook,” Katie proclaims proudly, directing her statement at Viv; you think, for a moment, that she is going to list all of her positive qualities. Your eyes narrow and Beth shoots you a look that says ‘later’. “Y/n, can you cook?”

You almost choke on a prawn. “I can make pesto pasta. That’s it.”

Jen’s jaw drops. “You’ve only been eating pesto pasta this season?!” she asks, sounding scared.

“Yes, because I chose a club without Ona.” At Wolfsburg, you didn’t live on your own. Here you do. “I don’t mind. But Beth might have to make this weekly.”

“Absolutely not. This drained me more than any game of football ever could.” Beth motions at everyone to keep on eating, feeling accomplished that the meal is good. “Katie scored twice today.”

“Did you now?” She nods her head very proudly. “I bet I could’ve scored today.”

The laughter turns into silence as you eat contently, something that is broken when Jen goes, “where were you?”

The thought of having to talk about it causes you to grip your fork tighter, earning Beth’s hand on your shoulder. “Some charity event, right?” she replies for you. “Tomàs hosted it.”

“He came from Spain?”

“Yes,” you answer, and the girls hear how badly you don’t want to talk about this.

No one here knows exactly what happened, but when you abruptly transferred from Barcelona to Wolfsburg four years ago, you allegedly haven’t been back to Barcelona for longer than a day. Ona was saying to Beth the other day that with some convincing you can be persuaded to Ibiza (you’re about to be invited to two trips to the Balearic Islands), but anything on the mainland is strictly business — camps, games, the like.

Everyone has their theories, but Katie and Jenny think something happened between you and your brother. It’s not like you didn’t say outright in an interview that you have had a far better career than him despite being younger, yet he’s the one being paid €12 million a year.

“Guess what Ruesha fucking did yesterday,” Katie changes the topic.

Everyone groans.

“No one cares, Katie. Like I couldn’t care less.” Beth bites her lip to not laugh at Jen’s words. “Y/n, what’s happening in your love life? Got a girl, boy, cat?”

Feeling a bit like a deer caught in headlights, you look up from your plate. “I met a girl in a coffee shop in January. She was pretty.” You wonder how her interviews went. “I saw her today, actually. But I don’t date so—”

“You don’t date?” Steph asks, eyes widened a little.

“Yeah, because, like, it’s hard… with football.” They look at you like you’re a dog tearing apart a slipper: so unbelievably unimpressed. “Because it’s time consuming?”

In reality, you don’t date because your ex is the reason you can’t even be in mainland Europe, but they do not have to know that.

“So what’s this girl’s name and how did you go out with her if you were at an event?” Beth asks and it sounds a bit too much like a police interrogation for you to feel comfortable.

You shift your weight in your seat.

“I don’t know. She was just there.”

- - -

It’s the middle of March when you’re back in Notting Hill. With training sessions left, right, and centre, you’d been pretty much confined to St. Alban’s and Beth’s house for social activity. Today is a rare day-off, coincidentally aligning with both Manchester United’s schedule and Manchester City’s. Ona has dragged Leila, Laia, and Vicky down to London to see you.

“I can’t believe we had to come to you,” is the first thing Vicky says when you meet them at Euston.

“Wow, not even a ‘hello’,” you say back. “Come on, we’re going to a market.”

They roll their eyes. All of them. At the same time.

You wonder why you ever missed them.

Laia is the only one interested in Portobello, darting from stall to stall to another, excitedly giving you a rundown on her life while she does. Leila is hungry, and ruthlessly cuts her off.

“We get it. You felt sad for a week. I need coffee, Y/n, take me to a coffee shop.”

“It was more than sad,” Laia protests, but acquiesces to the group’s change of plans.

You lead them to the place you found in January — maybe this time you’ll actually get to try the coffee. But on the way there, Laia finds a mildly creepy clothes shop and manages to herd you inside. She flings clothes at the girls, while glaring at you for flirting with the shop assistant instead of letting the woman do her job and help.

You’re halfway to getting her number when there’s a commotion outside and the mood lighting of the shop is ruined by bright camera flashes.

For a moment, you wonder if they’re for you. People could have thought your brother was here, and the paparazzi love him.

But there’s something familiar about the voice shouting at them to back off; the rasp, the accent. Curiously, you look out of the window.

It’s her.

With brown hair?

Flo catches your eye immediately, and it doesn’t take much thinking for you to dash out of the shop to grab her hand and pull her inside.

The paparazzi have no choice but to crowd around the window, except none of their shots will turn out well once the shop assistant closes the blinds.

“Gracias,” Flo pants, out of breath.

Leila’s eyebrows shoot right up, closely followed by the rest of the girls. “Y/n, that’s Florence Pugh,” she blurts, thankfully in Spanish.

“Y/n?” Flo tries. Now she knows your name and her stomach feels settled with endearance. Your name suits you. “Thank you for saving me. I needed it.”

“I owed you,” comes your reply as you shrug.

“Y/n saves things for a living!” Ona butts in.

(Is she sabotaging you or being your wingwoman?)

There’s a tense silence, of which no one knows what to fill it with, until the shop assistant opens the blinds and informs Flo that the coast is clear. It takes that statement then to be repeated to snap you and Flo out of the mildly creepy eye contact you’re sharing, but once it does she can’t seem to look at you again.

She inhales and resets herself. “Right. I’ll be off. Things to do, people to see.”

“Yes,” you reply, beginning to feel embarrassed in front of your friends’ keen and watchful eyes. “Yes, yeah. Bye.”

“Bye, Y/n.”

With that, you let the woman you’ve been thinking about for months walk away, out of the shop, and down the street. You give yourself an internal kick for lacking the game you know you have in three other languages, but rub it better because now you know her name.

Florence Pugh. Like the actress from that creepy cult film Obi was obsessed with. And the girl from that Marvel movie.

You pause.

“The actress Florence Pugh?” Your question has Leila shoving her Wikipedia in your face. British actress, born in Oxford on 3rd January 1996. Florence Rose Pugh. Maybe you’d heard someone call her Flo before? “Oh, this is the girl I’ve been meaning to tell you about.”

“The girl with no name is Florence fucking Pugh?” Leila shrieks, hands on your shoulders, shaking you. “You know I love Marvel!”

“Sorry,” you chuckle, amused by her overreaction.

Vicky catches your eye, looking like she wants to say something.

Laia does it for her.

“You need to learn how to flirt in English, because that was atrocious.”

You glare at them both. Partly because it’s true.

“The Y/n who fucked four women in a week at the grand old age of eighteen did not just say — no, splutter — ‘yes, yeah, bye’ because she was looking at a pretty girl,” Vicky adds, smugly. “We have finally found the language barrier between Y/n and sex! Round of applause please!”

“Alright, alright,” Ona says, coming to the rescue. “Stop teasing her when she looks like a lovesick puppy.”

Fuck you too, Ona.

“Florence Pugh is practically a stranger.” You look at Leila, “we are not getting married.” You look at Vicky, “she is not being invited to dinner tonight.” You look at Laia, “she will not be upgrading your train tickets to first class.” And finally, you look at Señorita Ona Battle; the woman who has been your closest friend for years. “I am not in love.”

“I’m sure she’s in love too,” Ona says, pushing it.

“But she’s a stranger!”

Your friends are delusional because you’ve been over it in your head millions of times, clinging onto the shreds of interaction, and you can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve met the woman. Florence Pugh can possibly be categorised as a celebrity crush at best. What Ona is talking about is way too serious.

- - -

Flo is certain that Ibiza is a good idea. Or so she tells herself.

And, well, Harris tells her.

He thinks she’s been in a bit of a slump since she and Zach broke up. While Flo can barely talk about it without wanting to cry, she mourns the loss in a very vocal manner to her closest friends. She misses him quite a bit.

Harris allows her a month of moaning before putting his foot down; vetoing Flo not joining them in Ibiza because she is sad. “You’re single, you’re hot, and you’re one of the most sought-after actresses and you don’t want to go on a hot-girl vacation…?” His puzzlement is almost comical when he asks. “It’s for my birthday, babe. You can’t not come.”

Her valid apprehension is quelled with the promise of lots of alcohol and sun, and so this is how she ends up on the Spanish island. Harris calls this a ‘come-back curve’ — when you let loose again after being in a long-term relationship.

It’s fun, really. The beach, the time with friends, the drinking. This is the kind of life she had coveted during her youth; the one most believe comes with the fame. When there aren’t any cameras in her face, she feels at peace with her situation.

(Is this what getting over someone feels like?)

Except for one, tiny problem.

Whenever Will drags them all to a nightclub and pumps her full of vodka, she manages to avoid the gaze of every pair of eyes looking for someone to sleep with. Usually, Flo after ten vodka shots would be on top of someone or on her way out, but the days go by and she can’t help but cockblock herself.

She racks her brains to figure out the cause, the reason, but there is nothing in it apart from the echo of your laughter and the sound of you speaking Spanish. She closes her eyes and she can picture you, clear as day, grinning right back at her. She is not okay with it.

Obviously.

Despite the idea of you throwing her off her game, she is still easily convinced to venture out to nightclubs. Leading her here.

Paraíso.

It’s sticky inside; surfaces, people, floor. And packed. Bodies pressed to other bodies, hair trapped, shouting, screaming, singing.

For an already drunk group of people, it’s perfect.

Crammed into a booth in the heart of the club, Flo and her friends do two rounds of lemon drops, the sugar going everywhere. When her nose scrunches at the bitter taste of the rind, Harris snaps a picture, says he’ll post it later.

Good, she thinks. Maybe you will see her having fun.

If one was to ask, and Flo decided not to lie, it would be revealed that she has spent every night this week making her way through articles about you. Your Instagram didn’t take long to find, nor to scroll through, but it saddens her slightly to discover how little people write about you, and how much they write about your brother.

She is dignified enough to refrain from scouring your Wikipedia page.

Funnily enough, you have been doing the same, though the material to get through is significantly more substantial. Mapi has taken to calling it your ‘bedtime reading’, prompting you to announce very loudly to every guest sitting in your family villa in Ibiza that you own the place.

Well, your dad does. (Same thing though.)

Housed in said villa are Mapi and Ingrid, Ona, Laia, Leila, Patri, and Pina. Beth, Jordan, Leah and a few of their England teammates have come along too, staying in a boutique hotel not far away; about a fifteen minute walk. The groups merged very quickly after a bottle of wine.

As you get further into the holiday, you dive deeper into Florence Pugh’s digital footprint, and everyone else is very over it.

“This obsession isn’t cute,” Patri teases, snatching your phone as you spread out on the sofa. “But Leila wanted me to let you know that Florence Pugh is in Ibiza.” Your heart clenches hard; this could be a heart attack. “Oh, and we’re all going out tonight. England girls and us lot. Ingrid is also banning Spanish in case they think we’re talking about them, Pina broke the shower on the third floor, and Laia has fed that stray cat so much that it is now curled up in her bed.”

You glare.

Many of those things are so unbelievably far from ideal.

Patri raises her hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

In time, you wish you had and that your evening was being wasted away in jail, because this place is loud and busy and it is far from acceptable for you to go back to internet-stalking Florence Pugh around such interesting company.

The England girls have chosen a club called Paraíso, though you wouldn’t have known from the way they pronounced it. Most of them are dancing, but Beth, cheeks flushed from a few vodka sodas, has sat next to you in the booth, looking like she’s about to pour her heart out.

You turn to her. “Go on, then. Tell me about you and Viv.” And she grins like that’s the best thing she’s ever heard, launching you into a timeline of events that have you feeling disappointed in yourself about your situation.

If it all hadn’t been ruined, you could have been able to reciprocate the conversation.

It’s a bit like a knife to the stomach to be reminded of something you don’t have.

Eventually, Beth is finished, eyes shining because she is so happy with her and you are so supportive of it. She cares what you think, and is glad you approve.

“I’m going to get a drink,” you say, deciding there’s not enough alcohol in the world to make you feel better but that you can at least try. Beth nods and finds the others on the dance floor.

The bar is well staffed, and it takes all of two minutes for you to place an order of three Jägerbombs. All for you, but you hesitate to tell the bartender that.

Someone brushes your arm and your stomach drops to the floor.

“Hi,” she says, practically sparkling under the club lighting.

This is why you don’t come home. Fucking hell.

“¿Inglés?” you question, raising an eyebrow. Adela used to hate having to learn the language.

“Vivo en Nueva York en la actualidad.”

Tomàs was right. She doesn’t live in Spain anymore. So why is she here? Why is she in the last slice of your home country you can be persuaded to let loose in? Why does she have to ruin everything?

Though time feels frozen, someone else has placed their hand on your waist. You tense as you turn around, but hope Adela doesn’t see it.

When you realise it’s Florence Pugh, you are very close to running away to Australia in search of complete isolation.

“Hey, babe,” Florence drawls casually. She’s an actress, you remind yourself. Improvisation is a skill she’ll be great at. “You alright?” Her hand squeezes your waist in reassurance.

Flo’s hair is blonde again. It looks nice.

“Yeah,” you breathe, feeling a heat pulse through your body. “Just waiting on some Jägerbombs.”

Flo stands her ground. She wants to wait with you. She doesn’t want to leave you alone with the beautiful woman who’s got you on edge.

Is it wrong to feel protective over a stranger?

(Neither of you feel like such — a consequence of extreme internet-stalking on both ends.)

“¿Tu novia?” Adela asks. You smirk at the flash of jealousy in her eyes. “Pensé que estabas follando a todos a la vista como siempre.”

“No, es mi novia. ¿Tienes un problema con eso?” She shakes her head. “Bueno.”

“Sí.” She looks Flo dead in the eyes. “Adiós.”

The two of you let the silence take over, both aware of how she’s still got her hand on your waist, now with her body pressed up against yours.

“Your ex?” Flo asks, praying it doesn’t sound hopeful. There’s no way you’re not into women, right?

“Yeah,” you answer miserably.

She adjusts herself so that you’re now facing each other, but it only aids you both in feeling a little turned on. Seeing the other looking just as flustered does nothing to quell the possibility of where this night is going.

“Want to get out of here?”

She grins. You take that as a yes.

Her hands are sweaty as they cling to yours, but the club is packed now and she’d get lost if she didn’t hold on. Getting outside is like a rebirth, fresh air washing away the grime and a soft breeze cooling her down. That is until you look at her, biting your bottom lip.

“You can if you want,” she whispers as you sort of back yourselves into the alley beside the building. You place your hands firmly on her waist.

You smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” And with that you close the space between you, pressing your lips against hers and a hand against the wall to support you both. She kisses back desperately, opening her mouth, clashing her teeth on yours. Her hands run up your back, wrapping around your neck.

You make out for a while, before she pulls away.

“I’ll call a taxi to my hotel.” She gives you the opportunity to text Ona.

You: no volveré esta noche

You’re about to tell your friend where the spare keys to your villa are, before Flo kisses you again, capturing your attention in order to direct you to the taxi.

From there, it’s a downhill slope of ripped clothing, walking into things, and being fucked into oblivion.

The morning comes brightly, unforgiving of any hangovers.

Her suite is really nice, but is partially destroyed by last night’s storm of a hookup. The sofa cushions litter the living area’s floor when you try to find her.

She is sitting on the sofa, hair wet, lazily watching the TV. As you laugh at the program, she snaps out of her brood.

“Do you understand what they’re saying?” you ask through your giggles. It’s a pretty crass show to have on at 10am.

“No,” she sheepishly replies. Her eyes tear from the screen to focus on you, examining your body from head to toe, resulting in a frown. “I went out and bought you something to wear.” She directs your attention to a shopping bag on the coffee table.

“You didn’t have to.”

“It was nothing, really.”

You pause.

She looks beautiful. You wish you hadn’t been so drunk. Now all this will be is a one-night stand.

“I’ve got to go. I thought I texted my friend where the spare keys were but I didn't, so they've all crashed at our friends’ hotel, and they’re not happy about it.” Flo laughs, recalling giving you enough time to let everyone know of your changed plans. Maybe you were too caught up in staring at her.

“No worries,” she says easily. “I’m headed to breakfast, but feel free to use the bathroom to clean up.”

There’s a stagnant silence.

Neither of you are going to further this interaction. Alright.

It will be fine. She’s less of a stranger now, and no interview could ever inform you on what your name sounds like as she moans it over and over again.

You tell yourself this again as you approach the England girls’ hotel, bar the last bit. (Though it does remind you of the game you once had.)

Everybody is waiting for you in the small restaurant, the group practically filling the space. There are many colourful words, both in Spanish and Catalan, being muttered as you walk in.

It’s fair for them to feel irritated, and you did leave as soon as possible to allow them back in. You probably would have slept in that expensive hotel bed for the rest of the day if Pina’s seventh phone call hadn’t awoken you.

“You are unbelievable,” is the first thing Mapi says, ignoring the questioning looks from the English girls. None of them speak Spanish, though you’ve heard that Lucy is learning. “Where were you? Pina says she saw Adela as soon as we walked in, and was about to go looking for you to get you out of there.”

“Well Pina didn’t do that,” you reply, folding your arms. Clàudia looks away guiltily. “And I spoke to Adela.”

“So you have a run-in with her and you take off? As if the years haven’t made a difference? As if you’re not over her?”

You clench your fists. “No, I was with a girl.”

“Which girl?” Ona excitedly interjects. “Do we know her?”

“Yeah,” you say, but intend to give them nothing else. “I just came back from her hotel. Would you like to get back to the villa or not?”

“Y/n, you’re such a dickhead.”

Beth asks for a translation.

Before you can omit the parts you don’t want her to hear, the whole of the group is made aware of what you got up to last night. Patri skips over the background information about Adela once she catches the way you are looking at her. If looks could kill, she’d be long gone by now.

The conversation evolves naturally into something more general, until everyone is gathering their things and leaving the hotel to walk to your place. With a group of fifteen, the pavement is cramped, meaning Ona and you pull ahead.

She nudges you when you go quiet for a bit.

“So…” Ona begins, smirking. “Tell me about your night.”

“My night was too scandalous for Onita to handle,” you tease, ultimately avoiding the question. Her eyes narrow and she grabs your wrist to stop you from crossing the road. “I’m not going to run away.”

“But you love running away!”

You sigh. “My night was good, Ona. Really good.”

Ona is clever enough to piece together a story in her head. Adela has a way of disrupting the flow of your life, and a certain someone is in town.

“Fucking hell, Y/n. You slept with Florence Pugh?!” she exclaims.

“Keep your voice down,” you say loudly, shaking your head as to not let the others know. “It was a one-time thing. A mistake.”

She studies your expression, realising how your regret was easily confused for sternness earlier. “You wanted it.”

“It’s a celebrity crush!”

“Not if you’ve actually met her. Then it’s just a crush.”

“You’re just a crush,” you retort. Ona bursts out laughing.

“You slept with your crush and it’s a mistake because she thinks it’s a one-night stand.” Your friend shakes her head in disbelief. “Now I remember why we stopped talking about your love life. It’s chaos!”

Technically, it’s because your love life went very dry once you reached Germany, but you laugh along with Ona because she’s right.

Your hushed Spanish is safe from the ears of the others, but when you lay your phone on the kitchen worktop in the villa, Beth notices two Instagram notifications.

@florencepugh has started following you.

And a DM.

+44 7701 923892 xx

Flo throws her phone across the room once she clicks send, and hides under the covers from a cackling huddle of her best friends.

- - -

Somehow, you are persuaded to cancel your flight to Gatwick and follow the girls to Barcelona. Now that Adela herself has told you she isn’t in your home city anymore, maybe you can visit for longer than five hours again.

When you knock on the door of your family home, you’re tackled to the ground by your mother. Though you didn’t go radio silent on them, the only time they really get to see you is when you’re playing a home game for the national team. Even then, it isn’t guaranteed.

“You’re home?” she asks, pinching your arm to see if you’re real. “My baby was driven out of the country by some stupid girl, so is this stupid girl dead or…”

“Mamá!” You frown and step past her to get inside. It smells like your little sister has found out what incense sticks are and burnt them everywhere. “I thought I’d visit before the Euros. I was in Ibiza anyway.”

“I know,” she says matter-of-factly, making your stomach turn with guilt. “Eva showed me how to work the Instagram.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise you checked.”

She smiles softly and it feels like everything you have been missing has always been here.

“Of course I check to see what you’re up to. Wherever you are. Especially since you stopped calling as much.” You shake your head as if it will make it better. You’ve been busy in a new country. You assumed having Eva and Tomàs was enough to keep her hands full. She seems to read your mind. “While your brother and sister are a lot, I’ve missed you.”

You’re suddenly fighting back tears.

“I’ve missed you too, Mamá.”

She pulls you into a calmer, firmer hug. The moment is ruined when Eva comes charging down the stairs, screaming at the sight of you.

The last time you saw her in person was when the Barça academy took her team on tour to Germany last year, but she’s acting as if you’ve come back from the dead.

She alerts the attention of everyone else in the house, meaning your grandma and dad flock to the kitchen, dropping whatever they’re doing. You can hardly blame them. You must have become a myth.

Plans are quickly made to go out to the usual spot for dinner with Tomàs and his family. Your older brother has a wife and three children that you never actually see. You haven’t met his youngest because he was born just before the pandemic started (as if you’d have visited anyway).

With that, you are integrated back into your old life.

You dust off your motorbike from the garage and go on rides through your city, watching the sunset from the rooftop of your friend’s old apartment building with Eva. She tells you about how her football is going; how everyone thinks it’s odd she plays neither in goal nor as a striker.

Growing up, you were forced to save Tomàs’ incessant (but increasingly more accurate) shots, meaning you’d had a fair amount of goalkeeping experience by the time your dad put you onto the football team he coached. You played what you knew. Tomàs hated being on the same team as you, but it didn’t last long when you were scouted and put in Barça’s academy. He followed soon after.

Eva, however, decided to stay away from her older brother and sister’s constant practice. She ended up on your dad’s football team too, scouted again by Barça, her name written down like you and Tomàs had done before her. At seventeen, she might be on track to be signing for the senior team next season. You promise to get the girls round and introduce her to them.

In turn, you tell your sister about the woman you keep on running into. How her eyes looked more grey in January than they did in May. How she makes you nervous, makes you forget how to do things. How you slept together five days before you arrived home.

You have her number, and you show your little sister. She begs you to call it, but you quietly admit you’re scared. She leaves you to move at your own pace, even if she finds it painfully slow.

As the days go by, you become Eva’s chauffeur. She finds it exciting to be driven about on your motorbike, and you have nothing to do but wait for the final Euros squads to be announced.

Your little sister often has places to be. Today it’s The Museu Picasso. Apparently, she’s ‘cultured’ and ‘sophisticated’ and will be getting high as a kite before entry. Makes the experience better.

As you weave through taxis and try not to run over any tourists, a certain blonde catches your eye. She sits dejectedly on a bench with her phone held loosely in her hand. You pull over without a second thought.

“Lost?” you tease, taking off your helmet. Florence startles and almost drops her phone, before coming to her senses and recognising you.

“Very,” she sighs. “My driver cancelled and I’m stranded.”

“Need a ride? She’s getting off here anyway.” You nod to Eva, who is looking affronted by the suggestion of that.

“Jo sóc?”

“Sí, Eva.” She stares at you blankly. “Baixes de la puta moto.”

“Ah. Aquesta és ella.”

You hum in confirmation. “Ara aneu a escampar la boira.”

Flo watches the conversation trying not to blush. The Catalan might be sexier than the Spanish.

After a second of rebellion, Eva gives in and gets off the bike, thrusting her helmet into your stomach bitterly. The museum really isn’t far away — about a ten minute walk — but it’s the principle. What happened to sisterhood?

You get off as well, unsure of whether Flo knows how to get on. She does, thankfully, meaning you don’t have to fumble your way through that. Dodged a bullet there.

At first she keeps her arms loosely wrapped around you, awkwardly holding on. When you speed up, she squeezes you tighter. If she hadn’t squeezed tighter and pulled you out of thought, you’d have been pancaked by an oncoming lorry (they’re memories — it makes it worse).

“Where am I taking you?” you ask, shouting to be heard.

“Coffee!” she replies, amusement audible. “There’s this woman I like who owes me one!”

You pretend you didn’t hear her second sentence, focusing on the road in front of you instead.

Florence relaxes quickly, enjoying the way the people change from tourists to locals; the buildings become more homely and less commercial. Barcelona is beautiful. Your eyes are brighter than when she last looked in them.

The coffee shop you take her to is the one you’ve been going to for years, though the colour scheme has changed from blue to red since the last time you came. The staff are fresh-faced and young, but the manager pulls you into a hug immediately. Flo hangs back, feeling like an elephant among the mice. She doesn’t understand what you say, and takes a minute to realise you want to know her order. Even then, she’s uncomfortable with reading anything off the menu and shrugs.

The manager, Pablo, is the son of the owner, and has worked here longer than you’ve been alive. When you first sat down for a coffee fifteen years ago, exhausted from a 10k run, he gave you a free biscuit on the side. You’ve been close ever since.

Naturally he asks who Flo is. Why is she here?

You can only shrug, say she’s a friend, and deal with his unconvinced expression.

Sitting opposite her on a wobbly table starts the first conversation you have intentionally had. One not tainted by alcohol or put in place to distract from an unwanted discussion. It’s now not a failsafe or emergency, but something you want to happen. It’s weird.

“Thank you,” she says earnestly. “I was a lot more panicked than I looked.”

You laugh. “You looked pretty panicked.”

“New city. Haven’t had a chance to get my bearings.” You wonder why she’s here. What do actresses do for fun? Would Florence go to a museum? “My flight got in yesterday, so it’s really new.”

“This is where I grew up.” She figured as such.

“I went to one of your games, you know,” she blurts. “The last one of the season. My friend was looking to invest, and I only put the pieces together once I saw you from the stands.”

“So you don’t know who Tomàs is?” She shakes her head and you look at her with horror. “Do you not like football?” you ask, eyes wide.

“Do you like musicals?”

“Touché.”

The corners of her lips twitch upwards into a smile. “French as well?”

“My talents don’t extend that far.” Innuendo settles in your words. Oh, she knows exactly where your talents lie. “In Ibiza…”

“Who was she?”

“An ex-girlfriend.” She raises her eyebrows. “The ex-girlfriend.”

“We all have one of those,” Flo says with a sly smile. “Mine got me kicked out of the school choir when I was fifteen. Yours?”

Your leg shakes anxiously. There is something so incredibly unfair about having to feel so horrible every time she’s brought up. As if she feels the same way. Your life was the one that was obliterated; the collateral damage.

Flo listens carefully when you talk about signing for Barça’s senior team and moving out. About the lifestyle you adopted from your brother; the parties and the drinking and the constant meaningless sex. And then, when you tell her that Adela seemed so mature, that she had her own place that was quiet, she actually understands. Zach felt like that. An example, a teacher. Someone who was safe and quiet and knew what they were doing.

You would sit quietly in Adela’s little flat while she did her work for her law degree, unwinding and relaxing. She’d stroke your hair and do yoga with you after rough games.

But Adela got tired of it. She was sick of always coming home to either an empty flat or you being exhausted, and she couldn’t handle how much she had to put her own life on hold because of your football. She had been offered a training contract at a big American law firm’s Spanish branch, which would require her to move to Madrid and work like a dog.

She said you were holding her back.

It was the most heartbreaking thing you ever had to do, because she gave you a choice: her or football. And you chose football. But you loved her a lot, and her leaving was like losing your favourite teddy. You became stuck in a dark place; you couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Barça became concerned by your playing standard and you were replaced by another keeper. When the transfer window came, you ran off to Germany without so much as a goodbye to Barcelona and hoped to never have to run into Adela again.

“Good thing she now thinks you’ve got a super sexy, hot, famous new girlfriend,” Flo jokes when you finish, attempting to diffuse the tension.

It only adds to it.

“Did Ibiza mean anything to you?” you ask quietly, nervously. She catches your eyes and holds them, trying to make you feel better. Safer. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you for months,” she confesses, almost a whisper. “Before I even knew your name.”

“I should have called.”

“No, it’s okay. That was very bold of me.” She took a shot before sending it. “I’m not in Barcelona very long, but I have a hotel room and my hotel room has wine. And a—”

“Do we need a bed?” Your wink makes her cross her legs. “First, let me introduce myself, yeah? So we’re not strangers.” She nods. “I’m Y/n, and I saw you in that overpriced coffee shop in Notting Hill.” Pablo pretends to not be listening.

“Hola,” she tries valiantly. “Soy Florence. Call me Flo. Um, that’s the extent of my Spanish.”

“It was good,” you lie. She hits your arm lightly. “No, really! I’m sure you’ll learn some.”

“Oh, I did.” Her smirk is unsettling. “Dámelo más duro,” she moans, imitating you.

Your blush makes your face feel like it is on fire.

“We have got to leave this place right now, oh my god.” She gladly stands. You hand Pablo €20 because you’re not focused on how much money this will cost you. “You’ve got to never do that again. Especially not on the motorcycle. I’ll crash.”

“Yeah, I noticed how you nearly killed us earlier.” You don’t get to make a witty comeback, because she firmly plants her hands on your waist and kisses you hard.

Your heart soars.

- - -

It has taken six months for you and the mystery blonde woman to go on a date, but it’s perfect. You eat out at an Italian place, followed by a different kind of eating out later into the night.

On the 15th June the national team for the Euros is confirmed, she is at your family home, halfway through helping your mother to prepare lunch. The whole family swarm the kitchen to congratulate you on being the first choice of goalkeeper. They couldn’t be prouder.

When you kiss her in front of most of the crowd at the last game of the group stages, she has to wipe away your tears. While everyone else appreciates the effort of your clean sheet, your teammates are thankful you’ve found someone. They knew you seemed different the whole tournament.

Obviously, the quarter-finals are conflicting for Flo. She dons an England shirt, but while her friends seek out their Lionesses afterwards (famous people always think sports teams want to see them), she searches for you instead. You sob into her embrace and she knows how stressful the tournament has been for the whole squad. She supports you fully when you and fifteen other Spanish players email the Football Federation with complaints of the manager.

In September, she’s thrown into the middle of the current hottest scandal in Hollywood. You’re there for her to rant to, scream at, and talk with — even if most of the time it’s over the phone. She misses you the most when you’re away for matches, so for her to be filming in Budapest takes a toll.

Flo tells you that she loves you when you pick her up from Heathrow terminal three, something your little sister goes feral over (another Hugh Grant romcom, apparently).

You say it back without hesitating.

You say it over and over again until it’s your most commonly said phrase. The girls tease you for being obvious about when you get laid, because you can’t keep the smile off your face the next day. In truth, you grin anytime you see her.

Christmas and New Year’s with the Pughs makes you love her more, and you reflect on how far you’ve come since January. How she once didn’t know your name, but now can sort out your bills if you asked. Florence Rose Pugh means more than a Wikipedia page because you say it when you propose, and she manages to say yes in Spanish through her tears. It makes the 29th December a special day forever, and it’s still too cold in England for your liking but it’s an excuse to bury yourselves in blankets that night. And for all the nights to come.

She’s no longer a stranger but she has always been so much more than that anyway.

tags: @pewpughpew @ridleypugh @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @xsophiesx @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz @karsonromanoff

#florence pugh fanfiction #florence pugh x reader #randombush3 #woso x reader #florence pugh one shot #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh imagines #florence x reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh angst #florence pugh #arsenal wfc #mapi leon #beth mead #vfl wolfsburg frauen

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baddestbittyontheblock · 4 months

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florence pugh fic recs

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

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┈୨♡୧┈ she's jealous by @flosbelova florence pugh x fem!reader | 1k

-you visit florence on set and you bump into a crew member who is slightly flirtatious. florence sees the interaction and gets jealous.

┈୨♡୧┈ whatever you want us to be by @flosbelova florence pugh x actress!reader | suggestive content, 2.6k

-you’re an actress and florence pugh is one of your competitors. you’re both really good actors, but one tends to outact the other during auditions. this creates a small competition between the two of you. when you both get cast in a film where you both play a couple, your world turns upside down.

┈୨♡୧┈ touch by @flosbelova florence pugh x fem!reader | 1k, smut (+18), cursing, fingering

-florence has been away and you miss her. when you get intimate with yourself, she catches you and finishes whatever you started

┈୨♡୧┈ friendly competition by @rollingsins harry styles x florence pugh x reader | smut, oral, strap-ons (seriously, this is filthy. read at your own peril)

-harry and florence are competitive. a little too competitive, when it comes to you.

┈୨♡୧┈ lights camera action by @rollingsins florence pugh x reader | smut (oral, fingering), 4.8k

-you catch florence’s eye on the set of her latest movie.

┈୨♡୧┈ love scenes by @rollingsins florence pugh x reader | smut (oral, fingering, dirty talk, face-sitting, f/f), 2.1k

- florence gets jealous after you film a love scene.

┈୨♡୧┈ the don't know about us by @flosbelova florence pugh x reader | fluffy with a hint of angst, smutt-ish (18+), 3.2k+

-you and florence have been dating in secret. however, when she’s involved in a dating pr stunt to promote her new movie, you start to get worried and wonder if your relationship will ever meet the public eye.

┈୨♡୧┈ three's company by @meetmymouth florence pugh x reader x harry styles | polyamory relationship, 2k

-you liked the attention.

┈୨♡୧┈ cute fic by @marvelous-harry florence pugh x reader x harry styles | polyamory relationship, 1k

-harry and florence taking reader or for a bath

┈୨♡୧┈ cooking with flo by @marvelous-harry florence pugh x reader x harry styles | mentions of blood, passing out, Little angst/fluff, 2.5k

-you join florence for a 'cooking with flo' livestream... It ends in tears, blood, and lots of cuddles.

┈୨♡୧┈ cute blurb by @marvelous-harry florence pugh x reader x harry styles

-someone says something mean to the reader about her relationship with harry and floss and they comfort her

┈୨♡୧┈ your lips are my comfort by @flosbelova florence pugh x reader | mention of anxiety and school, 1k+

-college has been stressful and because of it, your mental health hasn’t been the best. your girlfriend, florence, comes over to comfort you.

┈୨♡୧┈ mine by @flosbelova florence pugh x actress!reader | implied sexual themes (?), 1.6k+

-you’re a lead actress in a movie and one of your male co-stars keeps on flirting with you. you tell your girlfriend, florence, about it and she insists on showing him who you belong to.

┈୨♡୧┈ three's company pt: 2 by @harrysgloves harry styles x reader x florence pugh | language, angst, pretty sure I made the reader an alcoholic, smut!! (threesome so proceed with caution, thanks), 5.5k

-you deal with your breakup.

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh imagines #florence pugh x you #fic recs #fic rec #smut

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avenging-fandoms · 3 months

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i’m so glad you write for women ahh! i’ve just got this mental image of being best friends with (and secretly in love with) florence pugh and she’s doing your makeup/skincare one day and you get all shy and you blush because she’s so close you could just lean in and kiss her and—you can take it from there lmao

"Oh!" Florence jumps and you get scared, nearly spilling your wine and you two laugh quietly and take deep inhales while cackling. "I'm sor- I'm sorry." She covers her mouth and you look at her. "I was just gonna say we should do each other's makeup, since we're so bored."

"That's a great idea, flower. I'm doing you first." You stand up and hold out your hand, and Florence giggles as she slaps her hand in yours.

"That's what she said!" She gargled as she took a sip. You sit her in front of your vanity, turning on the light and scooting towards her. You took about half an hour, and Florence couldn't sit still the entire time.

You both were a little wine drunk, so her makeup didn't look the best. She looked in the mirror and laughed, making you slap her shoulder softly. "No, no! It looks great, babe. It looks brilliant." You lean forward and look up at Florence, who looked down at you.

You parted your lips softly, licking your lips and sitting up. "You're turn." You two switch seats and she pushes your hair behind your shoulders, tucking the pieces that fell behind your head. Her fingers continue to scratch through your scalp and you couldn't help but close your eyes. "Everything okay?"

"Your hair won't stay back." She laughs and drops her arms on your shoulders, her face dangerously close to yours. You open your eyes and inhale sharply, staring at her lips. "Yn.."

"I have a headband." You whisper, hands holding her hips as her body moves forward, which made you fall off the bench at the vanity. You both burst out in a fit of giggles as Florence partly lays on top of you.

"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Florence manages to get out through her laugh as she brushes your hair out of your face so you could see. Your laughs slowly start to trail off and you were left looking at each other with Florence on top of you.

"Flo I've been thinking about kissing you all night," You sat up from under her and she sat on her legs, hands flat on her thighs. "Well, I've been thinking about kissing you for awhile now, but tonight.." You look up at her who stared right at you. You stood up and covered your face. "I'm sorry, I ruined the night, I just couldn't hold it in anymore and-"

You felt soft hands on each thigh, pulling you close to Florence. "Look at me," You slide your hands off your face and look down to see her looking up at you on her knees. Your hand held her cheek which she leaned into. "Kiss me."

Your chest felt hot. You knelt in front of her, combing your fingers through her hair and pulling her in, kissing her softly. You couldn't help but let out a hum, hand sliding down the side of her neck as Florence pulled your hips forward.

"Flo.." You mumble against her lips, gripping your t-shirt she wore in your hand. "Florence." She pulls away and you hold her face, eyes darting between hers. "I don't want to just kiss you. I wanna take you on dates, travel with you, take naps with you. I want everything with you."

Florence smiled, hands sliding around the sides of your neck with her fingers connecting behind it. "How about cooking with me?" You hum a 'uh huh' as you kiss her neck, nose pushing her chin up. "Rehearsing lines with me?"

"Of course, flower. I said everything." You whisper, Florence forcing your head back with a fistful of hair, kissing you roughly as you lay her on the carpet, your turn to lay on top of her. "And I meant everything."

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh blurb

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romanoffsbish · 2 years

Text

This Could Be Fun…💋

Florence Pugh x Fem!Reader

Smut: Thigh riding (R), Choking(R), Fingering (R), Face-Riding(F), Double-Ended Strap(R/F), Light Role-Play(Yelena 🤪), Squirting(R), Jealousy, Mommy(F), Good Girl(R), Really soft shit, and kinda humorous if you squint.

Minors DNI | 18+ |

Anon Request: Hi can I request a Florence Pugh X Fem Reader where Reader accidentally told Florence that her favourite character that Florence played is Yelena. So one day when Florence finished filming for a Yelena scene, she went home with the costume and talked in a Russian accent and R is turned on, thank you!

I realize now that I kinda deviated in how Flo found out, but I promise the core concept of reader being horny for Yelena is there 😂

“My beautiful girl, can you bring the popcorn?" Florence calls out to you from the couch, she'd already gotten rather comfy in the cocoon of blankets, and couldn't be bothered to get up. "Already on it baby." You announce as you're settling down beside her with the bowl, an array of candy and two ice cold cans of Cola.

Florence softly smiles at you, admiring your soft, beautiful features, and efficient nature. Leaning forward she makes a move for the popcorn, but she'd really been on the move to steal a kiss. Your shocked squeaks lead her to giggle into the kiss, and she soon pulls back triumphantly, her heart absolutely fluttering at the sight of your adoring expression, lips now tingling, and with a hand covered in butter.

—————————————————————

"Shall we begin then?" Florence smirks to herself at the residual shock that laces your tone, she opts for reaching over you to grab the remote, pressing play in silent confirmation, leaning into your side and fixing her gaze to the screen as your Marvel movie marathon begins.

Once the bowl of popcorn had been finished Florence laid against the back of the couch, her hands tugging at your shirt so you fall in line. Instantly melting into her embrace, and lacing your fingers with her own over your abdomen. Moments like this are everything to the actress, filming tends to take her away a lot, so in the rare softer moments like these she soaks it up; it's no secret, you've always been her safety net.

Your job is equally as tiring, so she knows just how much it's taking for you to even keep your eyes open long enough to watch the sequence of all of 'Natasha's best films' as you requested, and being the Scarlett stan that Florence is she had no problem conceding to the request. Currently though she'd been forced to watch herself traipsing around the screen, and as much as she loves her acting gig there's just something odd about seeing yourself up there.

In an act of avoidance her eyes instead fell to your calmed face, your obviously tired eyes managing to still hold such attention as you watched your long time lover on the screen. Florence herself hadn't realized it yet, but as much as you loved Natasha, Yelena had been the focus of your current affection, something about your girlfriend in the skin tight suit flawlessly kicking ass, coupled with her deep Russian accent had you feeling things.

Granted, you'd both been far too exhausted to handle those sorts of needs, but it didn't stop your bodies squirming whenever she'd do something on screen that caught your eye. Florence was a bit perplexed at your sudden inability to stay still, but even in her exhausted state she began to notice a pattern within your movements—you were turned on, and had she not caught your eyes shamelessly transfixed upon Yelena's—her—body she might've even been offended, but she now found herself beyond excited.

A great amount of devious thoughts flooded her mind while you finished the movie off, none the wiser to your girlfriends findings. Florence's hand covered yours on the remote, "Baby love, I think it's time we call it a night.," Your lazy grumblings of refusal were met by her deep laughter, the natural rasp doing nothing at all to satiate the built up tension between your legs, and she knew it too.

"We both work tomorrow morning, and if we watch another movie then you'll be a grump.," You roll around in her hold to tiredly glare at her, and she audibly aww's at the sight of you. "Goodness Y/N/N, you're just so adorable.," Her laughter only increased when your glare deepened, and you tried to escape her grasp.

"'M not adorable, I'm a monster, hear me roar." You tiredly slurred, a pathetic whimper meant to be a roar falling from your lips, and Flo just stares at you with wide eyes., "Yeah, you're my tired, adorable baby, close your eyes now...," Her hand then rubbing soothing circles against your temple cuts your deluded protests off, and an accomplished smile overtakes her features.

"I love you Lena.," Florence holds back a snort so that she doesn't give way to your slip up, no, she plans to instead use it to her later benefit. "I love you too Y/N/N...," she observes your tired smile as she places a kiss to your temple, then she too slips into a blissful nights rest.

——

Florence had been so busy all month long that you'd barely had a chance to see her since the movie marathon, and it's been nothing short of dreadful for you, waking up alone most days, and craving the warmth of your lover always. Between her prolonged days of shooting her newest Marvel project, to doing a press tour for her upcoming movie with the likes of Zendaya she'd barely been home.

Not to mention that when she was home she'd usually only have time to eat, sleep, and lest we forget torture you as she lived her day to day speaking in her entirely too hot Russian accent so that it'd be consistent when she was filming. Your need for her only being heightened every time she spoke to you with said inflection. Little did you know Florence saw every time you squeezed your thighs, or held your breath, and she was having the time of her life teasing. Truthfully, she couldn't wait for the day she could finally have you, and thankfully, today was her final day on set, she told you she'd be home a little later than expected, but that she should at least be home in time for dinner.

So, you'd then spent all day preparing for the reunion, cringing as you cleaned up around the forgotten about house, then again when you spent the early evening pampering yourself. Now, you're stood in the kitchen recreating one of her 'Cooking with Flo's' recipes for her, and recording the whole thing too, all while dressed in only a gorgeous red, lacy pair of lingerie.

Once satisfied with the food, having seasoned her wrap fillings with a tinge more spice than your own you'd wrapped them up and settled them into the fridge. Then you headed off upstairs to change, or better yet, to throw something onto your body, because as much as you'd love to be taken on arrival you also felt like slowly wooing her would be equally as fun.

A black halter top dress that left you braless, and tightly squeezed against your body in all the right places is what you settled on wearing for the at home dinner with your girlfriend. Adding on a select few silver pieces to entice the woman's gaze upon your breasts and hands. Finally, settling on a bare face as Flo has told you she very much preferred you that way, your lips the only thing glistening as you'd applied just a thin layer of clear gloss.

With a last look over you sighed at the sight of yourself, the anticipation for what's to come filling you with an anxious excitement as you made your way down the stairs; collecting the food, two flutes, and a ice bin with a bottle of merlot tucked within as you made your way to the shaded patio to patiently await your lover.

—

Florence was as quiet as a mouse when she finally entered the house, shh-ing the awaiting dog, then making sure the coast was still clear as she quietly ran up the stairs. The only reason she was even running late was because she'd been planning to pull a Scarlett Johansson, and had to wait until Hailee texted her the all clear before she sprinted off to her car with the stolen goods, instantly throwing it into drive, and smirking the whole way home as she'd successfully completed her heist.

Shooting off a text, "I'm about twenty minutes out my love, I'll meet you out back. 😘❤️," she then set her phone with live footage of the deck onto the counter of your shared bathroom. Nerves of all sorts causing her skin to itch and burn as she squeezed her body back into the tight suit she'd adorned for months on end, and it never seemed to get any easier either. Yelena's signature rings were her own pieces, so they'd remained on her fingers all day.

The only dilemma the woman was met with was the length of her hair, it wasn't long anymore, so the typical braid wasn't an option. Fortunately for her though you loved her short locks, so there was no need to waste her time with applying extensions. If anything, you're getting an exclusive Yelena that no one else ever will, so she settled on slicking her hair back, applying a thick layer of eyeliner followed by a pink tinted gloss, then she left the room with a spritz of cologne and a cheeky smile.

—

Florence was running a tad bit late for your liking, as dinner was usually at 7:30 at the latest since both of your bedtimes had slowly gotten earlier as the years had flown on by. You'd no longer been the carefree idiots who spent their nights dancing away their sleep, to then spend their mornings chugging down coffee before racing off to your respective jobs. No, now you two spend your nights inside, watching movies, or entertaining new hobbies. Like Florence's newest obsession with knitting, at this point you already had a new set of Fall attire.

Nevertheless, you both have the next week off, so with what you'd already had in mind for tonight the bedtime wasn't much of an issue. Still, it was approaching eight o'clock, and your patience was wearing thin the longer you were left to stare at the enticing bottle, so you popped it open and poured yourself a glass.

"Oh detka... What ever happened to patience? Thought you were my good girl," Your spine straightened as her low, accented voice sent shivers throughout the entirety of your body. Florence took great pleasure in seeing just how quickly she could have you begging for her if she played all her cards right tonight.

Florence takes a few long strides in your direction, hands on your shoulders to keep you facing away, not wanting the reveal to happen just yet., "Dinner smells good moya lyubov'.," she whispers into your ear, smirk present as she places a soft kiss behind your ear, loving the way you squirm under her touch entirely too much at the Russian terms of endearment.

"I-I made your famous lettuce wraps, why don't you take a seat, and I'll pour you a glass." You stutter as Florence's lips brush across your bare shoulders, and you are encased in the aroma that is your favorite cologne of hers., "How considerate of you honey...," She purrs, lips parting to harshly suck at your warm skin, and pulling a shocked moan from your throat.

Florence drags her hand over the freshly marked skin, goosebumps rising as the cold metal moves across the heated surface, and she smiles, appreciating how reactive your body is. "Sit now and there might even be a show...," you lowly tease, finally getting your mind in check, Florence slowly pulls away from you, totally admiring your renewed confidence, "Ooh, dinner and a show, color me intrigued.,"

Slowly she moves around the table, smirking with her back to you when she hears you gasp. Your mouth had suddenly run dry at the sight of your lover in her suit, the accent and pet names all making sense now as you see her. Her short blonde hair was slicked back with a little volume added to her bangs, giving her a soft look that completely contradicted the way she was carrying herself in the suit. It was as if her confidence had transcended it's normal bounds, and as hot as it was, it was not helping you keep your cool in the slightest.

Slamming back your wine you quickly pour yourself another, then move to fill hers as she settles in her seat across from you wearing a smug smile. You somehow manage to avert your gaze from the alluring woman sat before you, moving about silently to serve the food, and just as you were about to take your seat Florence yanks you into her lap, chuckling lowly as you squeal, and then within the next second she's pulling you into a deep kiss, her tongue shoving it's way into your mouth while her hands felt you up over your thin dress.

"The food smells delicious honey..." Florence cooly compliments, as if she's completely unaffected after making out with you, while you're left there sat on her lap gasping for air. You want nothing more than to make her squirm, so once you regain some composure you shift around in her lap, the hand on your hip telling you vacating completely wasn't exactly an option., "Thank you Flossy..."

Florence began to eat her lettuce wrap, a moan of approval falling right against your ear as she leans over you to keep the both of you clean. Her every attempt at making you squirm was beyond effective, and it was getting annoying. While she was distracted you reached across the table to grab your phone, pulling up the video., "Flo, I did promise you a show..."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You're stood in the kitchen, a perplexed expression on your face as you settled the phone down, and as soon as you were sure it's recording you're smiling like a total dork., "Hello everybody, welcome back to another cooking with Y/N/N!" You shriek towards the camera., "Today we'll be making my beautiful girlfriend, Florence Pugh's, famous lettuce wraps, but first, let me tell you..." You pause, fanning yourself down with your hand for emphasis., "It's really fucking hot in here...,” Then with a rather smooth movement your oversized shirt is flying across the kitchen, revealing your new lingerie set, a deep shade of red that reflects against you perfectly.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Florence's hand harshly grips at your hip, her other reaches out to pause the video, and a harsh breath is released., "Detka, care to define everybody...," You giggle over a bite of your food., "Oh, wouldn't you like to know...," you shift in her lap until your noses are touching., "Tell me Flossy, what if I told you I was on live, how would that make you feel honey? Knowing that everyone else saw what was yours.."

Florence's hand swiftly wraps around your throat, squeezing harshly to cut your taunting off, and as you gasp she pulls you in for a possessive kiss, "Don't fuck with me on this.," she growls against your lips, and you whimper when she bites your bottom lip harsh enough to draw blood., "I-It was just for you Flo..."

She releases her hold on your throat, and pulls back with an accomplished smirk., "Good girl.," Florence chuckles as you whine with obvious need, leaning over you she presses play on your phone, then her hand lands atop of your thigh, and you sigh, knowing damn well it's nowhere close to an innocent touch.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

With a knife in hand you begin to chop up the fillings: tomatoes, mushrooms, zucchini, and garlic, then just as you finished dicing it all up you leaned onto the chopping block. Your breasts were spilling over the edge of your brazier., "You know, the thing I love most about this dish is just how simple it is.," you smile softly as you slide all the fillings into an already sizzling pan, and then you lift your glass of water to your lips., "Really, all I had to do was cut up a few vegetables, and voilà."

You settled your glass on the counter when your playlist landed on Naughty Girl by Beyoncé., "I love this song!," and your hips immediately began to move along to the beat.

"Tonight I'll be your naughty girl, I'm callin' all my girls, we're gonna turn this party out.," You sing along, "I know you want my body.," your hands travel slowly over your breasts, slightly pushing them to cause them to briefly spill out, then down your abdomen before you spin around and give her a teasing view of your ass.

You spin right back around, throwing a sweet wink to the camera., "I love to love you baby (I love to love you baby)...," then you're slowly returning to the stove to stir up the nearly finished food while still unconsciously moving along with the beat., "See? Easy peasy..."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

While watching the scandalous dancing her right hand not so subtly made its way up your leg, and under your dress as you'd expected. She gasped when her hand discovered your, bare, wet core, "Fuck, you're such a whore.," Florence used both of her hands to manhandle you until your dress was bunched up at your hips, a loud moan leaving your throat as your cunt is pressed into her leather covered thigh., "Moya krasivaya angel, ride my thigh...," she breathlessly whispered into your ear, her lips latch onto your shoulder, sucking harshly in a feverish attempt to mark you up, as her hands then rose up to pull your dress down from the top as well, blindly grasping at your breasts.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You finished plating up the lettuce wraps, lifting the plate up to show off the final product to the camera, smiling proudly as you did., "I'm adding some hot sauce to this set because my sweet girl like's it a bit spicy..." You playfully muse, winking at the camera before blowing your love a kiss and ending the video.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Oh fucking hell.," You groan, the leather of her suit now drenched as you fall over the edge and into a state of bliss., "Well damn detka, how am I going to return this suit back to the set now?" Florence taunts, her own accent briefly slipping through as she can't exactly contain her amusement., "Don't.," you quietly plead, and her eyebrows furrow at your unwavering attraction to the Russian spy she plays on screen., "Listen honey, I know you love Yelena, but I don't think I can really compete."

It was playful enough, but the insecurity was still lying somewhere beneath her words so you shifted, groaning as your sensitive folds were made to slide across the leather as you did so., "Oh lovey, there's absolutely no competition.," you coo, hands cupping her cheeks to pull her into a soft kiss., "I love you both the same.," you then teasingly whispered against her lips, bursting into laughter when she pushed you backwards and stood up with you in her arms.

Grumbling the entire way into your house you couldn't fight the way her unnecessary jealousy had amused you., "Oh Flossy, I promise my love for Yelena is only face value, and that's because she shares your likeness... Please, let's get you out of the suit, and I'll show you just how much you mean to me my sweetest girl..."

She failed to respond to you, leaving you to ponder if she'd actually been hurt by your previous statements., "Flo?," she ignored you, tossing your barely covered form onto the bed, then straddled you as best she could before her lips were slamming into yours with clear purpose, her tongue sliding into your mouth while her strong hands rip the offensive dress pooling at your hips in half, and you whimper as a new wave of arousal courses throughout your body at her show of pure strength.

Every simple touch of hers sends your nerves alight, and you find it exceptionally hard to breathe once her fingers collect your wetness that's been slowly dripping onto the sheets, and without much warning her digits slide right into your awaiting cunt, your warm walls more than welcoming as they suck her right in., "Shit!" She curses, pulling away from your lips and trailing her kisses down your jawline as her fingers continue to brutally pump into you.

Already sensitive from your previous orgasm it doesn't take long for the blonde to build you up, and she knows it to by the way your hips are moving against her thrusts, and by just how shaky each breath you take in is. Not wanting to miss this one she trails her kisses back up your jaw, then after placing a firm kiss to your lips, and enjoying the way you can barely keep up with her she leans on her elbow to see you.

Watching every twitch of your face when she rubs against that spot deep within you, and with her own needs emerging she didn't hold back anymore, her pace increased, the sounds of your wetness filling the room along with your never ending string of moans as her thumb began to rub fast circles on your clit. "Come on, let go for me detka, I want you to come undone all over mommy's fingers.,"

As soon as the words left her mouth your walls were fluttering around her fingers, the title having always been like her secret weapon., "That's right honey, look at you fucking my hand, always trying to be mommy's good girl.," Your legs were shaking as she slammed her fingers into you against the building resistance, your back arching off the bed as your vision became spotted, and with a final scream that left your throat burning your orgasm had ripped right through you, and drenched the woman's hand.

Florence watched in absolute awe as your body trembled beneath hers until you were suddenly falling slack against the mattress, and then her eyes were fixated on the slick that covered her fingers as she slowly pulled them out of you., "Fuck..." she was absolutely reeling as she popped them into her mouth, your delicious arousal coating the entirety of her tastebuds.

Florence felt the wetness pooling between her legs steadily increasing at the sight of your blissed out face, a truly uncomfortable feeling when one is wearing a skintight leather suit. Every little noise you made only made her that much needier, "Fuck! I'm going to ride that pretty little face of yours, and then I'm going to leave you a babbling mess as I fuck you dumb with my cock, sound good printsessa?"

The blonde laughs, a deep raspiness settling within her tone as she watched you violently nod in agreement., "Use your words...," you then took in a set of deep breaths, still trying to recover yourself., "Please mommy, I want you to ride my face, want to taste you so bad.," Florence groans, lips latching onto yours while your shaky hands fidgeted with the zipper of her suit, eventually managing to push it all the way down, but getting it all off of her proved more difficult than either of you anticipated.

Florence leaned back, straddling you as she fought to get her arms out of the clingy fabric, you watched on excitedly as her breasts fell free, and it took all of your strength not to reach up and grab onto them, Florence smirked down at you when she realized what you'd wanted, but her unrelenting need to have your tongue deep inside of her temporarily overruled your mouth around her nipples.

"Shit!" She cursed, jumping off the bed to shimmy out of the remaining piece of the suit, and sighing once a stream of cold air rushed over her heated core. Florence went to climb back into the bed, but she managed to trip over the heap of leather on the floor, squealing as her upper body landed on the mattress.

Your pure laughter truly warmed her heart, and melted away the budding annoyance. "What's so funny?," she asked in faux anger, her face now hovering above yours as she had finally managed to climb back onto the bed. Your eyes widened, "That's what I thought." After a quick peck to your lips, and a reassuring wink she was now smiling down at you as her puffy, dripping cunt hovered over your chin., "Go on now baby, show mommy just how much she means to you.," you didn't have to be told twice either, your arms anchored around her thighs to hold her down, and your tongue licked a broad stripe through her folds, moaning as soon as you got a taste of your lovers sweet arousal.

Florence wasted no time in meeting your tongues efforts either, grinding down and smearing her abundant arousal all over your face, and your mind was absolutely blissed out. If there was one place you'd like to be for the rest of your life it was between Flo's thighs, and the woman loudly moaning above you had no pending complaints with the idea either.

With every delicious thrust, and swirl of your tongue Florence's hips would grind in rhythm, and once you managed to angle your face it was a wrap for the woman; your nose managing to rub against her clit in just the right way that had her screaming your name as her body lurched forward into the headboard, and had her releasing into your mouth.

After you'd managed to gather every last bit of her arousal until she was whimpering mess atop of you she slowly removed herself, and climbed down the bed until her lips could meet yours for a slow kiss, a far cry from every other shared tonight, and the love was overflowing. Her tongue swirled around the roof of your mouth, remnants of your arousal still remained on her tongue as she got a taste of her own when her tongue slowly slid around yours.

Once Florence was content with the soft moment shared she slowly pulled back, chuckling when your lips began to chase hers, "Oh sweet girl, I'm about to fucking ruin you..." You barely had time to register her words before she was clambering off the bed and to the drawer full of toys where she collected the thick, harness-less double ended strap, slipping her end in with relative ease, but groaning all the same at the sudden fullness she felt.

Her eyes were blown out when she stared at you from beside the bed, slowly approaching you as if you were her prey meant for nothing less than devouring, and honestly, in the moment it was not an untrue statement. Florence slowly climbed back into the bed, with far more grace this time around, and her eyes never lost sight of your own, internally beaming at the healthy fear that was settled beneath your outwardly calmed stare.

“Look at mommy’s good girl, patiently waiting for me to give you what you need… Color?” Your body shivered at the thought of her earlier promises., “Green mommy…,” Flo smirked at your eagerness, and with an unannounced quick thrust she’d bottomed out inside of you. “Fuck!” Your hands were quick to grip onto her shoulders, nails digging into her skin, and the pain of it all was quickly overlooked by the both of you when she began to rock her hips.

Florence’s pace was nothing short of brutal, and when you had managed to latch onto her nipple as it continuously flitted over your mouth with each harsh thrust of her hips she found she was able to fuck into you even faster. The blonde was near the edge again, and with how tightly you were clinging to her strap she knew you were too, but she wanted to see you coming undone, so without warning she used her strong arms to flip the both of you., “Ride my cock baby, come on, I know you can do it.”

Somehow you managed to find the strength to rise up, your mouth relinquishing it’s hold on her breast, and your hands then replaced it as you used them for leverage when you began to bounce. Florence’s hands were quick to aide you, settling on your hips as she guided you over her cock whenever your movements so much as faltered. The view of you never failed to keep her aroused, your blitzed out face, your gorgeously bouncing tits, and your pussy that was completely devouring the strap was more than enough to push her over the edge when the strap rubbed against her just right.

Her back arched off the bed, and her hips thrusted up into you so harshly that you fell forward with a scream, your lover was still able to catch you in her dizzy state, and was quick to twist and slam you into the mattress again. Fucking you through your orgasm, and sending you directly into the buildup for the next one, and her never faltering hips got you there fast. In her attempts to prolong, and reach another high of her own she actually had you on the verge of passing out.

Florence was absolutely stunned when after another few thrusts she felt your arousal as it drenched her thighs, and the bed beneath. Coupled with your distant, glazed over eyes, and incoherent babbles, it had her keeping to her promise and then some. The fact that you just squirted left her feeling accomplished, and was so fucking hot that she collapsed into your body as her high came crashing right over her.

While your muscles continued to lightly spasm, and your eyes were closed your girlfriend slowly crawled out of the bed, disposing of the drenched strap, as she then ventured off into the bathroom on shaky legs on a hunt for a warm washcloth so she could clean you up. When she returned she found you blankly staring up at the ceiling, your chest having somewhat returned to a normal rise and fall, and she slowly made her presence known with a finger tracing over your thigh.

“Hey sweet girl, I need to clean up…” She cooed, then with a nod from you she ran the cloth over you, starting with your face, followed up by your thighs, and with a hand on your hip to hold you down she lightly ran the rag over your most sensitive parts., “Shh, it’s okay love.”

Then she lifted you off the bed, placing you on the toilet while she expertly exchanged the bedding out, and returned to the restroom with your favorite shirt of hers, and a pair of panties that she quickly dressed you in before handling the remainder of both of your nightly hygiene. As fast as she’d removed you, she had returned you to the comfort of your shared bed, then after dressing herself she climbed in beside you, and ran her fingers down the side of your body while watching your eyes slowly regaining a semblance of consciousness.

“That was so fucking hot Flo, I never realized you’d figured out all about my secret crush.” You managed to say as you finally came back to earth, and the blonde cackled as she stared you down., “Baby, it was kind of hard not to notice when you squirmed every time I came onto the screen.” You giggled, and attempted to bury your face into the pillow, but she was quick to stop you, cupping your cheeks and gently pecking your lips.

“Ooh, maybe I can dress up for you next time!,” Florence snorted loudly against your shoulder, “Yeah? As who?,” You quirked your brows as you gave it a good pondering., “Princess Leia?” Florence burst into a fit of laughter., “Baby, since when have I ever shown interest in her?”You shrugged, burrowing further into the bed as you adoringly stared up at your girlfriend with those beautiful, tired eyes of yours.

Florence noticed your exhaustion, and the ways you were desperately trying to fight it. She leaned forward to softly kiss your forehead, followed by your nose, then finally your lips., “We’ll revisit this later baby; for now let’s get some sleep, and come morning we’ll take a relaxing bath together then order in, okay?” You nodded gratefully, nuzzling into her, and placing a kiss to her neck as you settled in.

“Goodnight my love.,” Florence coos, lips gentle as they lay a kiss to the top of your head., “Goodnight Lena.,” you tiredly mumble, and your girlfriend huffs when she thinks you’ve subconsciously chosen her character once more, but your uncontainable laughter, and shaking body lead way to the truth., “You’re such an asshole!,” she groans as she pushes away from you, but you do your best to hold her tight.

“Yeah, but I’m you’re asshole…” She hums, resettling into the spot beside you as she pulls you close, “That you are, my lovable ass.” You chuckle., “Goodnight Flossy, I love you.,” The blonde smirks., “and I love you too detka…”

—————————————————————

5,480 Words

Ahem, I’m going to touch some grass now, this was a Tumblr request and I made it outlandishly whoreish

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥵💋

#yelena belova #florence pugh #florence pugh oneshot #florence pugh pov #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh smut #florence x y/n #florence x you #florence x reader #florence x fem!reader #florence pugh x female reader #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #yelena belova x fem reader

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fakesocialmediaa · 10 months

Text

Y/n L/n ✓

Liked by Florence Pugh and 1,368,089 others

Itsmey/n I think I might be a tiny bit obsessed with you ❤️

@ florencepugh

Florence Pugh ✓

Liked by Itsmey/n and 4,221,301 others

Florencepugh you’re all I want @ itsmey/n

Itsmey/n I love you ❤️

Florencepugh I love you too pretty girl

View all 3,600 comments

Y/n L/n ✓

Liked by Florence Pugh and 2,555,100 others

Itsmey/n our late night adventures are my favorite @ florencepugh

•

Request: Pls can you make a Instagram au with Florence Pugh dating y/n (as Madison Beer)

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littlexscarletxwitch · 6 months

Text

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝘆

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, this was based on a true story, not the flo part but the baby fever part lol, establish relationship, baby talk, flo self doubting, r babbling but like in a cute type of way (?), also billie's mention :)

warning(s): idk is wanting to have kids a warning (lol), baby talk (?), grammatical error, unedited

word count: 1.3k

note: You wanna know what's crazy? I'm not sure if I want to be a mother, but like the baby fever sometimes kicks in, specially since I have two little brothers and I'm like a second mother to them (they actually have told me so). But I don't know... Anyway, I'm not native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you all enjoy! Lots of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules here + masterlist <3

You remembered when all those new feelings had started: you were sitting across from her, getting lost in her forest green eyes, you didn't feel someone nudging your leg until that said someone screamed out at you.

"Jesus, you scared me," you smiled at the little toddler as you heard Florence's chuckle.

The little girl, who seemed to be only two years old, babbled some incomprehensible words at you. She only got cutter as you watched her face shift into a stern look. It appeared as she was trying to tell you something quite important.

"Oh, yeah, it's fine. Don't worry about it," you played along, accepting what you thought was an apology.

"Are you lost, little missy?" Florence said, getting her attention.

The toddler just looked at her and broke into laughter, which caused Florence to smile at her.

"What's so funny about me, huh? she playfully asked her, and the two year old just laughed even harder.

"I think it's your voice," you chucked.

"My voice is not funny," she pretended to be hurt, her hand clutching her chest.

"Well, it is to her," you couldn't hold your own laughter anymore as the tiny human kept on laughing.

“Oh, my God. She’s laughing at my voice.”

“Oh, thank goddess. You scared me to death, Charlie,” a young blonde woman said, getting closer to your table, and bringing the little girl to her chest once she was close enough. “I’m so sorry, she’s just learned how to walk and she likes it,” the woman joked.

“It’s okay, no problem, we were just chatting,” Florence reassured her with a smile.

As if wanting to be part of the conversation Charlie bubbled out some words.

“She’s so cute,” you scrunched your nose at her, making her laugh.

“Okay, say goodbye, Charlie,” Charlie’s mum moved her little hand around, waving at the two of you, as Charlie mumbled what you thought was a goodbye.

“Bye, Charlie,” the both of you said, smiling at the two year old.

[...]

Ever since that night you hadn’t stopped thinking about Charlie. Well, not Charlie actually, that would be creepy, but the idea of kids. Florence looked so happy the few seconds she shared with Charlie, you felt like your heart could jump out of your chest just by thinking of that night.

You had never thought about kids before that, sure, sometimes, but it was more like a second thought, like something far away from your reach, unlikely to ever happen. And after that night it became your only thought.

You found yourself watching TikToks about babies doing baby stuff, or maybe when taking a walk your eyes would linger on those couples pushing a trolley. Sometimes you would even look online for baby clothes and every time you couldn't help but to think it was the cutest thing ever. It also didn’t help the fact that your hormones would kick in and they would intensify all these feelings up to a hundred.

Florence, of course, didn’t notice how much you wanted a baby until you started to show her every baby picture you could find, every video you had watched, every kid you pointed out when the two of you went out on dates. So she started counting all the times you brought up that subject, by the third week she had lost count.

Now, there you were, lying on the couch, with your phone on your hand, scrolling down TikTok, watching videos of babies. She found it cute, fun even, because you wouldn't dare to actually spill the words out, too scared of what she would say.

“Y/n, baby, is everything okay?” she broke the silence, taking a seat next to you.

“Yeah, I’m just on those days,” you mumbled.

Which was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. You had craved a baby before, during and long after your period. It didn’t matter, it was a thought that would cross your mind all the time, nonstop.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to get you something?”

You nodded, “It’s just the hormones. You know how it is, the moodswing,” you chuckled.

“Are you watching those baby videos again?” she raised a brow at you, there was a tint of smug in her tone.

“Yeah…” you frowned. “Why?”

“Nothing, it’s just that you are always watching those,” she teased, wanting for you to finally come clean.

“I am?” you asked, pretending to be unaware of that fact.

“Yes, missy,” she smiled at you.

‘Missy’, it only reminded you of Charlie and it made the whole thing even worse.

You huffed, “I guess I didn’t notice.”

“Y/n, is there something you want to talk about?”

“What’s there to talk about?” she could tell you were frustrated.

“Well, I’m not sure but—.”

“What's there to talk about, huh?” there was not a trace of anger in your words, it felt more like sadness. “That I would like a mini you running around the house, chasing after Billie?” the dog raised her head, thinking you had called out to her. “Because yes I would love that.”

“Y/n, I—,” her smug attitude dropped to the floor as she realised that there was no turning back now.

“I can’t stop thinking about Charlie, how soft and careful you were with her. You were on cloud nine, Flo, I could tell,” you sniffed, battling the tears. “And I want that… I want that for you and me, for us.”

“I understand, honey. I can see how much you want that,” she caressed your cheek. “But I’m not—.”

“No, please don’t say ‘but’. I can take a ‘maybe’, just not a ‘but’,” you eyes were filled with tears and Florence felt like her heart was going to break any second now. She hated to be the reason why you were crying.

“No, no, no, it’s not that I don’t want that. I do, I just don't want to be that kind of parent who’s always working, I don’t want to miss their first steps, their first words, I want to be there for them every step of the way,” she breathed out, as if she had been holding back for weeks.

Which she actually had. Ever since she added two plus two and realised you actually wanted a baby, all these self doubt and anxiety and worry got a hold on her.

“Flo, please, I know we can make it work. I won’t let that happen, I promise. You are not getting out of this whole motherhood thing,” you joked, making her chuckled. “Besides, you had Charlie giggling and all happy, I think you got this.”

“Charlie was with us for like three minutes at most,” Florence, playfully, rolled her eyes at you.

“Okay, you are right. But I know in my heart that you are going to be a great momma,” you grabbed her hands, taking them to your lips to kiss them.

“Y/n…”

“I get it, Flor. It’s scary, we are talking about an actual human being—.”

“Y/n…”

“But if anyone can do this, then it’s us—.”

“Y/n…”

“We could watch some films, or maybe read some books. I bet my mum still has that book about being a first time mother—”.

“Y/n…”

“We can even take some classes, they teach you everything nowadays and—”.

“Y/n!” this time Florence shook your shoulders trying to get your attention.

“Will you at least think about it? I know it’s a big decision and—”.

“Will you please let me talk?” she said with a tint of amusement.

“Right, sorry,” you smiled.

“You had me at ‘You are not getting out of this whole motherhood thing’,” she smiled back.

“Does that mean…?” you left the question in the air, waiting for her to say it.

“Yeah, let’s make a baby. Shall we?” she asked, a grin formed on her face before she pecked your lips.

“Oh, my god!” you couldn't hold back your smile anymore. “Yes! Yes, we shall,” you threw yourself at her, leaving kisses all over her face.

“Okay, then let’s get down to business,” she said in between chuckles.

“Oh, you mean right now?”

“I thought you… I mean… if you don’t want to then—,” she was about to get up from the couch.

“No!,” you yelled, making her laugh. “Come back here, you twat.”

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x fem reader #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh fluff #littlexscarletxwitch's fic

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alotofpockets · 9 months

Text

A perfect day | Florence Pugh

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader

Summary: Enjoying a romantic holiday with your girlfriend. [Full request]

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 600

You look up from the book you were reading, to be met with the loving eyes of your girlfriend staring back at you. Her smile warms your heart, “Hi baby.” She reaches her hand over and places it lovingly on your leg, “How’s your book?” You put your bookmark between the pages and place it down beside you. “I love it so far, but not as much as I love you, my love.” You sit up in your lounge chair to kiss her lips. “Would you like to go for that swim now?” Florence eagerly nods. She takes off her dress revealing her two piece bathing suit, you would never get tired of looking at her. “Hm, you’re so pretty, baby.” You strip down to your swim attire as well, and walk to the water hand in hand.

It was your third day in Italy, you had two busy days exploring the city, seeing so many incredible things, that today you decided to have a relaxing day by the beach. You were truly enjoying this time away from your busy lives, to fully focus on each other and the beautiful surroundings. Florence came to Italy a few times growing up but you had never been. She wanted to show you some of her favorite places. You went on a boat tour, and explored the city on foot. The city was so colorful, and you don’t think you will ever get enough of the beautiful blue ocean.

After some time in the water, you head back to your lounge chairs. “I made dinner reservations for tonight, I did some research and this restaurant is supposed to have an amazing view from their terrace.” Florence loved her food, which is why most of the time you let her choose where to eat, she always passed it by you first, but today she wanted to keep the details a surprise. “I can’t wait to see it with you.” Florence sits down next to you and leans into your side. You wrap your arms around her and kiss her head. “I’m so happy here with you.” Florence whispers. “Me too, baby.”

She was right, the view from the restaurant was amazing. You were led to a table near the railings of the terrace, you could see the mountains, the water, and overlooked the whole city. It was perfect. You ordered your food, which was so good, and talked the whole evening. The sun started to set and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of it setting over the water. “This is so beautiful, Flo.” - “Yes, it is.” Florence says with her eyes on you. You turn her way and realize what she just did and laugh, “You flirt. I love you.” Florence sends you a wink before saying, “I love you too.”

After dinner you enjoy a walk along the beach, watching as the sun continues to set. Long after the sun sets, you walk back to your hotel room, the roads lit by the moon. Back at the room you both change into your pajamas and lay down in the bed. You lay your head down on her chest and listen to her heartbeat, while she lazily draws shapes on your back with her fingertips. “Thank you for an incredible day.” You say looking up at her. “Every day with you is an incredible day.” Florence was in a flirty mood today and you were loving every bit of it. You sit up and straddle her waist, leaning in to kiss her passionately. The night was looking to be as perfect as the rest of the day.

💗If you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a coffee💗

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh fluff #florencepugh #florence x reader #florence pugh fanfic #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh x female reader #florence pugh x fem!reader #florence pugh x gender neutral reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n

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floshoe · 8 months

Note

just had a thought:

flo x reader

fake dating au

flos been cast in a wlw film (not public knowledge tho) and wants to subtly come out before press for the film picks up. her pr team/manager decides that a fake relationship would be an easy/good way to do it.

enter reader: successful in hollywood and already out (having dated a big name previously)

they get to know each other, go on some fake dates, then some real dates

they don’t know when the fake dates start feeling real, but they don’t want to stop

(flo rips up the contract eventually and they stay together)

The Y/n Y/l/n??

Warnings; fluff, anxiety?, cuteness, let me know if I forgot any. <3

Florence Pugh x Actress! Reader

Oh god. Was the first thing Florence thought when she was told she got the role. When she auditioned, she honestly didn't think she was going to get it. Going to the audition was honestly just a random spike of confidence when she did it.

Now she had to commit to it, well she didn't have to, but there was a part of herself that was ready to come out and tell everyone. The main reason she hadn't was because she didn't want to be bombarded with questions about it and assumptions about her interactions with other female celebrities, but she also just wasn't ready for the whole world to know.

Now, the world doesn't know about the movie yet, and Florence doesn't really want people to speculate her sexuality during the press for the film, of course, her team ended up finding out about it a while ago, and they've done nothing but support her since. But this movie, from their perspective, would be the perfect time for her to come out peacefully.

Via a PR relationship.

She was willing to agree, but it depended on who she was supposed to fake date. But after she found out who it was, she was all for it.

Y/n Y/l/n. THE Y/n Y/l/n.

She's known really well for her Oscar wins and incredible acting record. She was also very out, out enough where she was in a pretty well-known public relationship with Jenna Ortega, the two broke up last year due to their schedules and them both being very on demand actresses.

Florence's managers already talked to y/n and her team, and they agreed to do it. Florence hopes they get along because hopefully she can at least get a friend out of the situation.

----

Before they make any public appearances together, they first need to meet each other. So, their managers set up a meeting in a more private setting, at least for the first time they meet.

And today's the day, the day the relationship technically starts. And Florence is so nervous, mostly because of the fact that she has to be in a pr relationship with a woman, meaning she's coming out, and the person she's doing it with is y/n.

She walks into the hotel, yes hotel, and gets the key from the front desk, heads to the room and waits for y/n.

She doesn't have to wait for too long before she hears a knock at the door. She looks through the peephole and sees her in all her glory.

And y/n is nervous too, she herself is a fan of Florence and being able to both meet her and be in a 'relationship' with her was just as shocking to her as it was Florence. y/n made sure to wear her favorite clothes to help her feel more confident in herself.

Before they know it Florence opens the door and smiles, "Hello!"

"Hi!" y/n smiles brightly and Florence goes in for a hug, they give each other a tight squeeze before they let go of the embrace and Florence gives y/n room to walk in.

Nervous for the upcoming conversation, Florence's hands shake a little. y/n notices and gives her a smile, they sit on opposing beds facing each other.

"So, you're ready to come out?" y/n breaks the silence.

"As ready as I can be I guess," Florence says breathily. "I actually had a question for you though."

"Shoot."

"I was just wondering um, like, how you gained the confidence to come out to the world. Knowing your fanbase was so big, how did you deal with knowing basically the whole world knowing?"

"Wow," she chuckles, "Um, I guess I was just ready to be myself. Not that I wasn't before but I was kind of playing a role when I was hiding it, and I was ready to just be free. And I was able to do that when Jenna, my ex, and I got together."

Florence nods and looks at her hands. "Are you sure you're ready?"

Florence looks up and nods, "Yes, I'm just really nervous," she smiles.

"I completely get it, coming out is scary enough to family and friends, and when you have a huge fanbase like we do it can be especially daunting. Just remember, you can bow out at any time. Plus, I'll be there with you the whole time. You can just look at is as two friends hanging out. Just make it look a little more than friendly."

Florence nods. Her advice calming her nerves a little bit.

----

It's a few weeks later when it's their first public appearance together. The plan is for you to walk around in the together in {IDK} holding hands going to eat, shopping, and hanging out together.

The plan is for them to get caught by paparazzi and have the internet start talking about it.

As they're getting ready to head out y/n grabs Florence's hand when she notices it shaking. "Hey, remember, we're just hanging out, just holding hands. Lean on me if you need to,'' she smiles in reassurance.

Florence smiles and looks away, a light blush painting her cheeks.

You spend the day together walking around, shopping, eating, and honestly having a good time. She was an amazing person and fun to hang out with.

And Florence felt the same, she felt comfortable with you, even after she noticed some paparazzi, she looked to you. You smiled at her, squeezed her hand, and she felt instant butterflies, feeling better about it.

You guys did this every couple of weeks for about 3 months. And the tabloids had picked it up, there were articles questioning her sexuality, fans posting pictures of you two together questioning the context of it all.

It wasn't long before both you and Florence actually became good friends, genuinely enjoying each other's company, making this whole thing that much easier. You two were actually hanging out at your apartment when she saw something that flipped something in her.

It was a picture of you two talking down the street, but Florence had made her way in front of you, hands still interlocked but the picture was focused on you. You were smiling at her with what almost looked like love. But she didn't believe that. You didn't love her, even if she might feel that way about you.

As you walked back to the couch, food and drinks in hand, you saw her staring at her phone. You glanced at the picture and instantly knew what post she was looking at.

"So, you saw that, huh," you break the silence as you set everything down.

Your voice makes her jump, "uh, yeah," she sputters as she puts her phone down and scratches the back of her neck.

"How are you feeling about all of this so far?"

"It's getting a lot of attention, like I thought, but it's still a little overwhelming," she admits.

"We can tone it down if you want, you are going to start filming soon anyway," you offer.

"No! It's just I need to get used to it is all," she quickly states.

You nod and grab your drinks and give her hers. She was saddened that she wouldn't be able to see you as much, yeah you were supposed to come visit her in order to keep up the facade, but she would miss you. Knowing she's leaving tomorrow dampening her mood a little.

You were sad to see her go, but you were happy knowing you would see her in a couple weeks anyway in order to keep it going.

----

Florence is a few weeks into filming and she's having fun, she's acting aside Hailee Steinfeld as her love interest for the movie. She was happy that it was her since they got on well when filming Hawkeye.

Hailee was also super supportive of Florence, and she was even a little jealous when she heard about the pr relationship that was staged between her and Y/n.

"Wait so, Y/n is your fake girlfriend?" Hailee had asked as they sat in her trailer after filming had ended for the day.

"Yeah, why is that so shocking?" Florence chuckles, taking a sip of her drink.

"I just didn't know she had the time; she's always doing something.," Hailee explained. "Oh! But people think she's doing you."

Florence blushes and smacks Hailee's arm. Hailee's eyes widen at the blushing blonde.

"Holy crap you like her!"

Now it's Florence's turn to widen her eyes, "No I don't."

"Oh yes you do, you're blushing so hard right now."

Florence feels her own cheeks and feels how warm they actually really are.

"Shit."

-----

A month later you're finally able to see each other again, you meet her at a cafe close to set.

When she sees you waiting outside, she shouts your name runs towards you. You look toward her and catch her as she jumps into your arms, giving her a squeeze.

You put her down and look at her, "It's so nice to see you."

"You too, I've missed you," she smiles brightly at you.

The two of you walk in and order before taking a seat across from each other.

"So, how's filming been?"

"It's been good, I've worked with Hailee before so it's a little easier with a familiar face."

"That's good!"

The both of you take a moment and just look at each other, admiring the features of the woman in front of you. You couldn't help but be proud of her, she's coming out, doing an LGTBQ movie, and she's doing it well.

There was a mutual decision made between the two of you in your eyes; this means more than a contract now.

----

Over the next several months of filming her movie, Florence feels herself falling for you more and more. The way you hold her when you're sitting on the couch watching a movie, the way your smile calms her down when she feels overwhelmed, and the way you care for her.

You felt yourself falling for Florence as well, fake dating was a huge factor because you were acting like a couple for so long, you admire her passion in acting and how much she loves performing, her strength and her ability to act as such emotionally intense characters in a wide range of emotions. You love the way she smiles when she sees something she likes or a cute dog or talks about people she loves.

Neither of you knew when these feelings started, but neither of you wanted it to end.

----

So, when filming ended for the movie, and your managers gave you notice that the relationship would come to an end soon neither of you were very happy about it.

You wanted to keep seeing her, but with your schedules getting busier and busier, you weren't sure if that was possible. It was the night after filming ended and you and Florence were at her place, drinking of course.

And spending this time with her, watching her laugh, be herself in this sort of domestic setting made your heart skip beats. And Florence could see the looks you were giving her, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't doing the same.

"What do you have planned for the upcoming months?" She asks you.

"I have some photoshoots, I need to read some scripts, oh and I have some interviews too. What about you?"

"Pretty much the same, plus the premiere for the movie in a while."

"Oh yeah! Are you excited about that?"

"Nervous, but excited," she knew she kept looking at your lips, but she couldn't help it.

The tension in the room was becoming too hard for the both of you to bare. You were sitting so close together, not-so-secretly admiring each other.

The more and more alcohol consumed lessens the room between the two of you. The tension was too much for Florence to bare so she did what she's wanted to do for months.

She leaned in and locked her lips with yours. The weight that lifted off of her shoulders was great as she felt you kiss her back, and your hand cup her cheek. You both leaned back and looked into each other's eyes before leaning back in and spending the better part of the night doing so.

----

Now it's the day of the premiere for her movie, and Florence decided that this was the red carpet that she would make her relationship with you official to the public.

Fans and news outlets had been speculating it for the year since the 'relationship' started. But for the past 5 months it's been real. She feels a real connection with you, and her hopes for the future with you are something she thinks about a lot. And you're the same, the British actress had weaved her way into your heart the moment you met her, and you're nothing but hopeful for your future with her.

As she's getting ready the reality of the situation starts to set in, yes, she's nervous, but she's also excited. She finishes getting into her dress and she walks out into the room to see you sitting in a chair wearing your outfit for the night. She can't help but admire the way it looks perfect on you and how it compliments what she's wearing.

You look up when you feel her eyes on you and your eyes drift up and down her figure. It's been a common thing for you to be left speechless when you see her in red carpet looks, her photoshoots, or just date nights. She amazes you every time and she loves every bit of it.

She walks over to you and cups your cheeks, she feels warmth radiating from your cheeks and smirks before lighting pecking your lips.

"Are you ready?"

You clear your throat, "of course, are you?"

She nods, but your raise your eyebrows at her. "Okay, I am, but I'm really nervous."

You wrap your arms around her waist. "I know, and that's okay. You look great, you feel great, I'll be there the whole time. And... I love you."

Florence hears herself gasp when she hears that, with a wobbly smile she whispers, "I love you too." And she cups your cheeks and pulls you into a kiss.

In just an hours' time she's getting ready to get out of the car and walk to the red carpet. You grab her hand and give her a reassuring squeeze just before the door opens and you get out, reaching your hand out for her to help her out.

The fans at the event are heard screaming as soon as they see the two of you. You smile and wave together as you walk to the red carpet. After some pictures of the two of you, just her, her and the cast, her and Hailee, it's just you and her again at the end of the carpet when you hear fans asking about the relationship.

You look at her and she nods, signaling you to lean in and kiss her lips, you feel her smile against your lips as your hearts feel like they're about to explode.

You swear you almost went almost went deaf from screams of your guys' fans.

----

"How many is this now?" She asks as she watches you scroll through Instagram.

"I have no idea," you laugh as you save yet another edit of the two of you at that red carpet.

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this has been so close to finished for so long and it feels so good to finish it. hope it lives up to expectations. :) <3

#florence pugh fluff #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh #florence pugh imagine

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