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littlexscarletxwitch · 1 month

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hello I would like to request Flo X reader fic. Where reader is touring with Harry styles. She plays guitar and Flo comes to his concert (she is friends with Harry) and meets Y/n and they hook up later that night (soft smut, maybe some praise or light choking?) . And then like a timeskip to their wedding. Harry gives a funny speech about how they met.

Sorry if it's too much. But this is one of my daydreaming scenarios. I trust you with doing it justice ❤️

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, nsfw, r is harry's friend, flo's also harry's friend, harry is like r's big bro

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

word count: 3.1k

note: It's been a long time coming but here I am lol. I FUCKING LOVED YOUR IDEA ANON. I just love Florence and love Harry so this was on fucking top. I hope you like it, sooo sorry it took me soo long to post it. Love you all, M <3

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

The screaming, the singing, the cheering, the whole whole scene just sent shivers up your spine.

You knew that it wasn’t for you, not really. It was all for him and you couldn’t be prouder of all the things he had accomplished. Sure, he was kinda like your boss, or so the two of you would joke, but in reality Harry was a really good friend of yours. He was the older brother you had never had.

A sad smile made its way over to your face as the show came to an end. It was always the worst part of the show, knowing that you would have to say goodbye to the unbelievably loud, fun, joyful atmosphere. But the thought of doing it all over again soon offered you some comfort.

And so it came to an end, as everyone hit the last chord and note, and as Harry said goodbye to every person in the stadium. A second later, all lights went out, and everyone went offstage.

“I could never get tired of this,” was the first thing you said as you all made their way into your dressing rooms.

“Damn right!” Sarah agreed. You took a quick glance at her and smiled as you watched her holding Mitch’s hand.

“They always are so incredible,” Harry said from next to you. “You guys are also incredible. I cannot thank you enough for being here.”

“Get out of here, you dork,” you playfully nudge your shoulder against him.

“I mean it,” he said, chuckling.

“I know you do,” you said, rolling your eyes at him.

“Harry!” you heard someone screaming behind you, causing the aforementioned to turn around.

“Flor?” he said as a blond woman came running closer. “Flor!” he said, this time sure, as he opened up his arms to hug the woman

She, pretty much, launched herself into his arms as he tightly hugged her. “You were amazing! she said. “You all were!” she finished as Harry let go of her.

“Thank you, Flor. I didn’t know you were actually coming,” you noticed that Harry couldn't stop smiling.

“I know, I didn’t either. But I just thought I couldn't miss this, you know,” she nudged Harry’s side as you had done a few seconds before.

You cleared your throat getting Harry’s attention. “Oh, right. Everyone, this is Florence, fellow actor,” he joked. “Flor, this is everyone: Mitch and Sarah,” he gestured to the couple. “Elin, Niji, Pauli, Ny,” the four of them nodded and waved at her. “And lastly, but definitely not least, Y/n.”

“Hello,” you smiled at her. “Nice to finally put a face to your name.”

“Likewise,” she smiled back, her eyes not leaving your frame and you swore you felt your stomach flipping. “It’s nice to meet all of you, really,” Florence gently shook her head, snapping out of her own thoughts. “I just wanted to say ‘hi’, I guess I’ll be on my way…”

“No, don’t leave,” Harry protested. “We finally get to hang out. Have dinner with me, please,” he said, grabbing her hands. “Y/n and I are going to this amazing restaurant and I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“Oh, no. I don’t want to intrude…”

“Not at all,” you quickly cut her off. “It would be lovely to have someone helping me handle this one over here,” you motioned to Harry.

“Rude,” he scoffed, as if he was actually hurt but there was a grin on his lips.

She chuckled, “I’m not sure…”

“Please, I insist.”

“She insists,” Harry repeated your statement.

“I, um…” Harry looked at her with puppy eyes. “Fine, fine,” she gave up with a smile on her face. “But dinner’s on me.”

“Not a chance,” Harry said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

[...]

“So, this Olivia girl is nuts,” you concluded.

“Well, I wouldn’t use that word,” Harry said as he winced at your choice of word.

“Yeah, she’s mental,” Florence said otherwise, nodding at you.

“Was the movie good at least?”

“You didn’t watch it?” Harry asked, but your whole attention was on Florence.

“Yeah, I guess so,” she answered you. “Fans like it, critics thought it was alright. But the whole cast… there was some weird energy going on…” she shrugged it off as she took a bite of her pasta.

“I can’t believe you didn’t watch my movie,” you heard Harry keep on complaining.

“It must have sucked. Such great actors and good people were involved, all for her to ruin the whole thing…”

“I’m your best friend, why didn’t you watch it?” he said, turning his head to you so you couldn't ignore him anymore.

“Jesus! I’m sorry, okay,” you said defensively, making Florence chuckled. “It just slipped out of my mind,” you said as a smile creeped on your lips, mirroring Florence’s.

“You are a bad friend.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are,” he dramatically sighed. “But that’s okay, I still love you,” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead as he stood up. “I’m going to the loo, I’ll be right back.”

“He’s such an ass,” you said, once he was gone, as you took a sip of water.

Florence giggled at your words. “He is, isn’t he?” She cleared her throat. “So, I… I have to ask… Are you and Harry… you know like…,” she said, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks.

You quickly realised what she meant and almost choked on your water.

“No! God, no,” you said, clearing your throat, causing Florence to both laugh and sigh in relief. “He’s like my big brother. From the moment we met I just… I knew he would be a big part of my life, and he is… as my brother,” she nodded as a smile found its way to her lips. “Plus, he’s definitely not my type. Like at all, if you know what I mean,” you said, hiding behind your glass again.

“I think I do know what you mean,” Florence smiled at you in accompaniment.

“So, you and him never…”

“No,” she chuckled. “I mean we did kiss but it was just acting so…” she trailed off, licking her lips which caused your eyes to quickly look at them.

“Good to know,” you said as you gulped down the lump that had formed in your throat.

[...]

“I’m sorry I have to leave early,” Harry mumbled disappointed.

“It’s okay. We had a lot of fun, right?” you winked at Florence to which she nodded. “Drive safe, H,” you mumbled as you hugged him goodbye.

“Always,” he said as he let you go and went to hug Florence. “Don’t be a stranger, okay, Flor?”

“I won’t,” she hugged him tightly. “I promise.”

“You guys are sure you don’t want me to drop…”

“We’ll be fine,” you quickly cut him off.

“M’okay, I’m leaving,” he said, making his way to his car. “Good night!”

“Night night!” you said back, watching his back as he left the two of you alone.

“So, um…” Florence said once she was sure her friend was gone. “Would you like to get some coffee back at mine?” you smiled as her cheeks turned red once again. “Well, it’s not mine. I don’t live there, but I am staying there. So I guess it does count as mine—” she was rambling.

“I would love to,” you cut her off.

[...]

The moment the both of you stepped through the door, the coffee was long forgotten.

“I’ve been waiting to do this the entire night,” she whispered on your lips.

You didn't know how it happened, but the glances on your way to Florence’s house became featherlight touches and next thing you knew she was pushing you inside her house and her lips soon found yours. You weren’t complaining though.

“Oh, really?” you teased her as you bit her bottom lip.

“Yes,” she said in between a soft moan, dragging you to the couch.

“We are doing this here?” you said, as you kissed her neck.

“The bedroom is too far away,” she said, already breathless, lying on the couch.

“It’s literally just ten more—.”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” she said cupping your cheeks, forcing her lips onto yours.

The kiss only became rougher as your tongue made its way past her lips, fighting against her own. You could still taste the wine she had earlier along with the ice cream she had for dessert. You moved your lips down, finding once again her sensitive skin and decided to leave your mark on her. Something for her to remember you afterwards.

“That’s gonna leave a mark.”

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” you said as you kissed right where your teeth had been. “I don’t want you to forget me so easily,” you chuckled, before sucking another part of her skin just to leave another bruise.

“Trust me, I’m gonna remember this night.”

As best as you could, while still being on top of her, you stripped her out of her clothes. It wasn’t that hard since she was wearing a dress, and she wasn’t wearing a bra like she always would. The only thing keeping you from admiring the entirety of her body was the thin piece of cloth covering her centre.

“God, you are breathtaking,” you said as your lips wrapped around her nipple.

“Fuck,” Florence muttered as her head fell back, arching her back against the couch.

Slowly, you made your way down her body, your lips ghosting over where she needed you the most. You brushed your nose against her clothed clit, your hot breath on her making her squirm under you.

“Y/n…” she whined.

You licked up her slit, tasting her even through the thin fabric, making you moan into her at how wet she already was.

“Just take it off already, please.”

“So eager, so wet for me… I like that,” you chuckled, before tugging down the piece of cloth with the help of your teeth.

As your tongue explored her sensitive centre, your right hand found its way up to her neck and slightly squeezed once you pushed your tongue inside her. You could feel her fast heartbeat under your hand, and decided to keep up with that pace as your tongue thrusted in and out of her.

You moved your tongue up, finding her clit and sucking hard on it while you used your free hand to push two fingers in her, making her moan out loud. You squeezed her neck a bit tighter, not tight enough to stop her from breathing, just to let her know she was being taken care of.

“Shit, I won’t be able to hold back for longer,” she cried out, brows furrowed as you keep on working on her.

“Then don’t hold back, baby,” your voice was muffled because of her cunt. “Just come for me, Flor.”

You thrusted even faster and harder, arching the tip of your finger just to hit her sweet spot, working your tongue rougher on her clit and a second later you felt her legs wrapping around your head as her whole body started to tremble and your name fell out of your lips. You helped her ride her orgasm as you squeezed her neck getting the best out of her as you swallowed every drop of her juices.

“You did so good for me, babygirl,” you said as you went up to kiss her lips so she could have a taste of herself.

“Bloody hell, Y/n. That was amazing…” she struggled to speak the words out, she was completely breathless.

“We are just getting started, sweetheart.”

[...]

After that night, Florence and you exchanged numbers and found yourself reaching out for the other constantly. She would tell you about her job, and you would tell her about the tour. Some nights, when she had a free weekend, she would fly out to where you were and stay in the hotel with you. Those were the best nights ever, just the two of you cuddling and kissing and doing more than just kissing.

She was one of the best things that had ever happened in a long time, you wanted to let the whole world know she was now yours and you were hers. But if the whole world knew, then Harry would too. And neither of you were sure how he would take the news. You were scared to lose your best friend —your brother— even if it sounded really silly, you were fucking his best friends after all.

There were so many times when you almost told him, after all when touring with your best friend he knew there was something going on with you, he just couldn’t put his finger on it. He would watch as you giggled and smiled at your phone, or he would wonder why you started to stay at the hotels instead of going out with the whole group at night. He didn’t want to intrude, so he settled for waiting for you to open up with him. But curiosity was eating him inside out, luckily for Harry, he would find some answers really soon.

First night in London was just around the corner, and Florence came along with it, since he decided to invite her to that show as well. You weren’t aware of the arrangement until you stumbled into Harry’s dressing room and she was just sitting there.

“Hi,” you said, with a tint of uncertainty.

“Hi,” she just smiled at you and you felt your tummy shrinking.

“What are you–? How? When?” you felt your anxiety creeping in.

“I’m seeing one of my best friends performing, and my girlfriend as a plus. How? Well, I guess Harry made it possible and when? I just got here, like twenty minutes ago,” she chuckled. “Do you not want me here?” she joked.

“No!” you shook your head. “I mean, of course I want you here,” you said, getting closer to her, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your forehead on hers. “I just…,” you sighed. “I’m sorry, I just freaked out because of Harry.”

“I know, love,” she said, caressing your arms. “I think we should tell him, maybe after the show.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

“It’ll go just fine, I promise,” she added, once she sensed your doubt. She cupped your cheeks searching for your eyes. “I promise, okay?” she reassured you.

“Okay,” you nodded, convincing yourself that Florence was right.

She couldn’t help it and sealed the promise by softly kissing all your doubts and worries away. You didn’t realise how badly you needed that kiss until your breath was taken away. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a caress to your uneasy heart and you felt your entire self melting into her, completely forgetting where the two of you were standing.

“So this was it,” you heard someone say behind you.

A pair of stern green eyes met yours and you felt your heart drop to your stomach, but the cold green eyes quickly moved past you.

“I cant believe you are fucking my guitarist,” Harry simply said to Florence.

You didn’t expect him to snap at Florence, but for some reason there he was doing exactly that.

“Harry!” you chimed in.

“What? It's true, isn’t it?” he shrugged it off, not moving his eyes from Florence.

“It’s complicated,” she attacked him back.

“It’s not complicated. Are you or are you two not fucking? Simple as that.”

“It’s not just fucking,” he winced at the use of the ‘f-word’ coming out of your lips. You were his best friend, almost like a sister and there he was finding out his ‘sister’ was fucking his best friend. “There’s more to it.”

“This is what you had been hiding from me, isn’t it? I knew there was something off with you. I just… I can’t believe neither of you would tell me.”

“We didn’t do it on purpose, Harry,” Flo said.

“It just happened,” his eyes softened once he found yours again. “We didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did, Hazz.”

“So it’s not just, you know…” he didn’t want to say ‘fuck’ again, he had had enough with that word when it came to you.

“No, it’s not—.”

“I love her,” Florence said.

“What?” you asked in disbelief, that was the first time she would say that.

“I do. I love you,” she said now to you. “You feel like home, Y/n. And I want nothing more than to come home every night to you.”

You couldn't help the smile forming on your lips. “I love you too,” you said chuckling.

“Great! I can’t stay mad at you two if you keep on being this lovely…” Harry huffed. “You know what, I’m just gonna leave. We can talk about this later, or maybe not,” he said making his way to the door, but before he walked out he said: “Though, I want both of you to know that I’m glad you two found each other… and that it was because of me.”

[...]

Three years later.

Harry cleared his throat before speaking. “I would like to start my best man speech by saying that these two lovebirds met because of me, so I am to thank that we are all gathered here, therefore you are all very welcome,” the room cheered for him, even though it was supposed to be yours and Florence’s night. “When I first found out about them, I just freaked out,” the whole room bursted into laughter both yours and Florence’s family and friends. “I did, I swear. I just couldn't believe it.”

“Harry!” you scolded him.

“Y/n is like my little sister, “ Harry completely ignored you. “And when I found out that my little sister was doing things… unthinkable, unspeakable, unpleasant things, with my so-called friend…”

“Harry!” this time Florence said with a warning tone, making the whole room chuckled.

“I freaked out,” he smiled to himself remembering the moment. “But now, standing here and celebrating their love on this glorious day, their wedding day, I just know it was meant to be. Y/n,” he said looking into your eyes. “You know you feel like a sister to me,” you felt tears burning your eyes. “And I couldn’t be happier knowing that you found the love of your life. And that it’s not just some random stranger you found online or something, “ the room chuckled again. “But it’s one of the best, kind, gentle souls I know,” you searched for Florence’s hand, squeezing it. “I’m glad you found her, Flor. I’m glad you found each other” his eyes were now locked on hers. “And I’m glad you love her just as much as I do, maybe even more,” he winked at her. “So,” he raised his glass of champagne, everyone following suit. “Cheers to the both of you, for your undecaying love,” he was going to take a sip from his glass but he quickly added: “And cheers to me for bringing you two together.”

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

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

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buckys-wintersoldier · 3 months

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Just a little bit where you take a picture of Florence | Florence Pugh

Pairing -> Girlfriend!Florence Pugh x Girlfriend!Reader

Wordcount -> 0.6k

A/N -> This is dedicated to @lives-in-midgard I hope you like it. And thank you for supporting my love for her, it’s not normal anymore but we don’t mind right? Haha thank you so much and here is some fluffy for you.🩷

Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

Masterlist | Florence Pugh Masterlist

You’re looking through the door of your and Florence’s bedroom. She is lying on your bed, in your hoodie, and in just her panties. Florence is looking at her phone while you smirk about your girlfriend.

She always wears your hoodies when she is home and has her days off. As well as just wearing panties, it’s something she thinks is comfortable. You always make sure she isn’t freezing, but then she just giggles and kisses your forehead, telling you she is fine and it’s always so hot around you.

You look for your phone in your pocket and open your camera. You smile and take a photo of her, then send it to her, waiting for her reaction.

Florence taps on her phone, furrows her eyebrows, and then she looks up and at you. She smiles when she sees you and puts her phone away.

"Babe, I didn’t know you'd be home that early,” she says, rolling herself onto her back and opening her arm for you to cuddle with her. “Do you want to stand there and look at me or cuddle with me?”

You laugh slightly and walk closer to her. You sit on the edge of the bed and look at her. Her green eyes look like the stars at night, and you could look into them the whole time. Your girlfriend groans frustratedly and wraps her arms around your waist.

“Don’t make yourself so heavy,” she mumbles, still laying behind you.

Her attempt to pull you down doesn’t really work, but she tries her best until she rolls over to you. Her face is just a few inches away, and with a small smile, she bites into your side.

“Flo?!” you say surprised before you burst out laughing.

Florence has her teeth still in your flesh, but she looks, with her most innocent expression and a small smile on her lips, at you.

You let yourself fall down on your back and land on top of her. She lets go of you and wraps her arms around your waist, making sure you can’t escape. Then she pulls you closer and turns the two of you so that she is underneath you and your head rests on her chest.

“Mhm, we are spending the rest of the day like that,” she tells you, inhaling your scent deeply.

“But I’m hungry,” you mumble and pout.

“Nooo, don’t do that. You know I can’t say no when you look at me like that.”

Your grin widens, and you kiss her cheek, her jawline, but not her lips. When she groans again, you can’t stop the giggle from leaving your lips, but she doesn’t try to pull your head closer; otherwise, she couldn’t hold you as tight as right now. And she just wants to cuddle with you.

“You’re such a tease today. But let me say, the picture you took looks good.”

“You always look gorgeous.”

Florence rolls her eyes playfully, earning a kiss on her lips from you for that.

“Don’t roll your eyes,” you say, kissing her lips again.

“But that’s the way I get my kisses,” she chuckles.

You place your head back on her chest, inhaling her scent deeply. Her hands stroke your sides and back up and down. She smiles at you, kissing the top of your head before she plays with a few strands of your hair.

“You don’t know how much I love you,” Florence mumbles.

“You don’t know how hungry I am. But before you complain that I destroy the romance, I love you too, but let’s eat something, please?” you ask, and she agrees, turning around and kissing you before she gets up and helping you get up as well.

#florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh x female reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh x fem!reader #florence pugh fanfic #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh #Florence Pugh x f!reader #Florence Pugh x female!Reader #Florence Pugh x female yn #Florence Pugh x female you

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st4r1light · 5 months

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( - by request )

- your camera roll if you were dating Yelena Belova ༉‧₊˚.

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #yelena belova #yelena my beloved #yelena black widow #yelena x reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #wlw #blackwidow #little women #black widow #amy march

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romanoffsbish · 2 years

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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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b1ackoutartist · 9 months

Text

Star-Crossed

Florence Pugh x reader

Y/N heard the news on a sunny Tuesday afternoon. The pop of a champagne cork echoed around her small apartment as the radiant face of Florence Pugh, her Florence, filled the television screen.

"Breaking news," the anchor had said, a hint of scandalous excitement in his voice. "Hollywood sweetheart Florence Pugh is officially engaged."

The world seemed to shift under Y/N's feet. She could feel a heavy, hollow sensation spread through her chest. She had always known it would come, but the reality was a raw wound, exposed and burning.

Y/N clutched the remote tight, a futile effort to steady herself. The soft murmurs of the TV echoed hollowly around the room as the broadcaster continued to discuss the news.

A new image filled the screen, a picture of Florence and her fiancé. Florence looked beautiful, as always, her signature blond curls cascading down her shoulders, her azure eyes twinkling. But there was something missing in that sparkle. A piece of Florence that Y/N knew was her own. A piece that she kept safe in her heart, even though they'd gone their separate ways.

When the phone rang, she almost didn't answer. She knew who it would be. The familiar, soft voice that seemed to wrap around her like a warm hug.

"Y/N?" It was Raffie, Florence's younger sister and Y/N's best friend.

Y/N swallowed, forcing out a nonchalant, "Hey, Raffie."

There was a pause. "You've seen it then?"

"Yes." Her voice sounded so small, so frail.

There was a sigh on the other end. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I wanted to tell you before it went public, but Flo..."

Y/N pressed her lips together, stifling the tears that threatened to spill over. "It's okay, Raffie. It was bound to happen."

She knew Raffie was in an impossible position, torn between her love for her sister and her best friend. Raffie, who had been there through every tear and heartbreak, every whispered conversation late into the night, every stolen moment that they could no longer have.

Silence filled the line, a weight that pulled at the words they couldn't say.

"I wish..." Raffie started, then stopped. "Flo isn't... She's not happy, Y/N. She's trying, but I know my sister."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. The idea that Florence was out there, putting on a brave face while her heart wasn't in it, hurt more than anything. She remembered Florence's laughter, the way her eyes would light up when she was truly happy.

She missed that Florence. The Florence before the fame and the flashing lights. The Florence that belonged only to her.

"I know, Raffie," Y/N said quietly. "I know."

The conversation ended with a promise to meet, to talk, to perhaps find some solace in shared heartache.

Alone again, Y/N allowed herself to crumble, to feel the tidal wave of emotions she'd been holding back. The apartment filled with the sound of heartbreak, echoing off the walls and into the lonely night.

But with heartbreak comes a painful truth, a realization that sometimes, the love of your life slips through your fingers, dances in another's arms, kisses under another's sky. And all you're left with are memories, ghostly imprints of a love that once consumed you, a love that continues to echo through your life long after the music has stopped.

And sometimes, the most potent form of love is the one that hurts the most.

#marvel #florence pugh #yelena belova #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x female reader

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be-missed · 6 months

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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

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"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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goldenempyrean · 8 months

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Trying And Failing To Hide

〚 Day 4 - Hiding an Illness 〛

〚 Pairing - Florence Pugh x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - You really can't hide anything from your wife. 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙〘 Sicktember 2023 Masterlist 〙

Your eyes cast down to the floor as you muffled another rough sounding cough against the back of your wrist, subtly trying to avoid the concerned over-watching eyes of the woman before you. Florence was sitting on the couch across from you, her brow furrowed with worry. She had noticed your frequent coughing and occasional sneezes, but you had been doing your best to downplay them, not wanting her to fuss over you – you both had busy schedules and you didn’t want to distract her from that.

After listening to your continued sniffly she seemed to have enough of your stubbornness as she tilted her head slightly, her eyebrows furrowing with worry as she asked, "Are you feeling alright, darling?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

You forced a smile, trying to mask the exhaustion and discomfort that lingered beneath the surface. "I'm just a little tired, Flo," you replied, your voice coming out hoarser then intended, "Long day at work, that's all."

Florence's expression softened, and she stepped closer, reaching out to gently brush her hand against your forehead. "You feel warm but that might just be because it’s a little stuffy in here. Let go open a window, hold on," she murmured, kissing your forehead before going over to open one of the windows forcing you to hide the shiver then ran up your arms at the sudden cool air hitting you skin, "Maybe you should take a break and relax a bit. I can handle dinner tonight if you’d like." She said as she came to sit beside you.

As she sat down, you couldn’t help offer her a small smile as her hand came to rest on your thigh, “That’s really sweet but honestly, I’m fine. It’s my turn to cook tonight.”

She sighed a little at your response but let it go, that was until you felt the tickle begin to irritate your nose. All attempts at getting rid of it failed and you were left desperately trying to hold it back, but as much as you resisted, you couldn't suppress the inevitable.

"Huh’tschoo!" 

The sneeze burst forth, surprising you with its forcefulness and you quickly stood up and disappeared to go grab some tissue.

When you returned to the sofa, Florence was sitting with her arms crossed, her eyes visibly questioning you prompting you to quickly wave a dismissive hand, "What? All I did was sneeze! It’s probably just some dust or allergies. You know how it is this time of year."

Your wife studied you intently, her concern etched across her face. "Darling, your sneezes don't usually sound like that plus since when do you have allergies. And with the coughing too... Are you sure you're not coming down with something?" 

Her caring eyes bore into yours, waiting for an honest answer that you weren't ready to give. You sighed, realizing that you couldn't keep up the charade any longer.

“It’s just a small cold.”

With your confession Flo visibly softened and you felt her arm coming to wrap around your shoulder, providing a much-welcomed warmth from the goosebumps that had dappled your skin. “How come you didn’t want to tell me, hm?” She asked gently, no anger in her words.

"I didn't want to worry you," you admitted, your voice filled with a mixture of exhaustion and sincerity. "We both have so much on our plates, I thought I could handle it on my own." You didn’t try to muffle your cough this time and you felt a supportive hand come to trace down your back.

Flo sighed softly, her thumb gently caressing your shoulder in a soothing manner. "Darling, we're partners, in sickness and in health. It's not a burden to take care of each other; it's what we signed up for when we committed to this relationship. Keeping it from me only adds to my worry. I'd rather know what's going on so I can support you."

You looked into her eyes, seeing nothing but love and understanding reflected in them. The weight of your silence lifted as you leaned into her touch, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I'm sorry, Flo," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "I should have told you."

She leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. "Apology accepted, my love. Now, let me take care of you. You need rest and some TLC." It was then she seemed to notice your small shivers, “How about I run you a nice bath, maybe some bubbles and I could even diffuse some that really good smelling oil you like. Whatever you’d like.”

You couldn't help but smile at your wife’s loving offer. Her caring nature always had a way of making you feel safe and cherished. "That sounds amazing sweetie." You replied, your voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you."

As she got up from the couch, she pulled you into a warm embrace, holding you close. You could feel her concern radiating through her touch, and it made your heart swell with affection. "I love you," she whispered against your hair, her voice filled with tenderness.

"I love you too," you murmured, feeling a mixture of emotions swirling within you. With Florence by your side, you knew you didn't have to face this cold alone.

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#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh x fem!reader #sickfic #sicktember 2023 #comfort #hurt/comfort #whump #fluff #marvel #mcu #florence pugh sickfic #marvel sickfic #fluffy #florence pugh

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alotofpockets · 9 months

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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.

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#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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multi-fandom-enjoyer · 2 months

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Y/n leads a blindfolded Yelana up a flight of stairs.

Yelena: Where are we going?

Y/n(chuckles): I told you it's a surprise.

They climbed the last few stairs and finally reached a door. You opened the door, and both stepped outside.

You took her blindfold off for her to see a table with candles overlooking the city.

Y/n: Happy Valentines Day!

Yelena: Thank you, detka. Happy Valentines Day.

Once you both sat down, you removed a metal covering, revealing a bowl of macaroni and cheese.

She looked at you, with a smile across her face, before pouring the hot sauce on the macaroni.

#hot sauce and macaroni #x reader #marvel #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #valentines day #happy valentines #yelena belova x male reader #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh #florence pugh x male reader #x male reader

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randombush3 · 1 year

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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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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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buckys-wintersoldier · 3 months

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You’re mine | Florence Pugh

Pairing -> Girlfriend!Florence Pugh x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary -> You and your girlfriend are at the premiere of her new movie. When Sebastian makes a joke about you being his, Florence makes sure to show you that you’re only hers.

Warnings -> Minors DNI, 18+, Smut, thigh riding, dry humping, kinda dirty talk, possessive Florence

Wordcount -> 1.1k

A/N -> I want to thank @sergeantbarnessdoll for helping me with the title and the idea. She is just so hot, that also @sergeantbarnessdoll is gay now.😂😂 Divider made by @firefly-graphics. My requests are open, feel free to send an ask.

Masterlist | LGBT-Bingo Masterlist | Bingo of your own Masterlist | Florence Pugh Masterlist

You’re standing next to your girlfriend, Florence Pugh. The two of you have been dating for almost a year, and now it’s the premiere of her new movie. So you’re in front of all those camera people. Your girlfriend has her arm wrapped around your waist, and smiles into the crowd of cameras.

Your eyes burn lightly from the flashes of the cameras. But with Florence’s arm around your waist, you feel safe, and it’s a bit of fun to pose for the people in front of you.

It's not the first time that the two of you are at a gala or a premiere, so you’re used to it, but sometimes you still prefer your home with your friends and family and without the paparazzi.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Florence mumbles into your ear, and you immediately blush.

The grin on her lips grows when she sees the light red on your cheeks. Her hand is stroking your side up and down. When you’re finished, you walk along the red carpet and to the other actors who are there today.

Your best friend, Sebastian Stan, stands with his husband next to a little table and looks at you. You wave at him, then you walk with Florence towards them.

“You two look gorgeous,” Chris says, his arm wrapped around his husband's waist.

“Thank you, but we all know she always looks gorgeous,” Florence says, making you blush again.

The effect she has on you is beyond belief. You never thought that someone could make you blush by just telling you you’re handsome or making you happy the way she does.

You place your head on her shoulder; your fingers are tangled with hers, still holding you tight at your waist.

“Want a drink too?” Seb asks and looks at the empty glass in front of him.

“If you continue, I need to carry you home." Chris laughs and kisses his husband's cheek.

Sebastian laughs softly; his nose is slightly scrunched, and you giggle.

“What’s so funny, babe?” Florence asks, following your eyes, which are still on Sebastian. “Mhm, do you like the man in front of you?”

“Just look at his scrunchy nose; that’s so cute,” you say, pointing to his nose, which is still slightly scrunched.

Chris and Florence burst out laughing when Sebastian tries to look at his nose. But then he looks at Florence, his blue eyes glittering in a way you know they do when he has a competition with someone.

“Guess it’s my girlfriend now,” he smirks at her.

Florence’s jaw drops slightly, and she furrows in confusion. But her gaze immediately changes when she pulls you closer. She holds you tight, looking at Sebastian with the same expression as he looks at her. Then she turns her face towards you and leans closer to your ear.

“I guess I need to show who you belong to,” she says quietly, smirking at the way your eyes widen slightly and your attempt to press your legs together.

“Excuse us, we need a few minutes,” Florence says, smirking at Sebastian, who’s eyes widen as well when he sees the way she looks.

Then she drags you to the restrooms. Because it’s a premiere, you have a restroom for yourself, so no one can interrupt you. And there are enough other toilets, so Florence knows the two of you have some time together.

Florence opens the door, pushes you into the small room, and closes the door behind her. Before you can react or ask what her plan is, she pushes you against the wall behind you. Her hands hold yours above your head, and she pushes her upper body against yours.

“Flo-“ you moan when she suddenly presses her leg between yours.

You throw your head back and look into her green eyes, focused on you. And the smirk on her lips when she hears your moan grows even wider. You can’t stop yourself from slowly moving your hips against her leg, finally getting some release.

“Such a slut, huh? Wanted your best friend to fuck you?” she asks, but you shake your head. “No? Mhm, it looked like that. Who do you belong to, babe?”

You moan when she presses her leg more between yours. You’re grinding against it, trying to get more friction. One of Florence’s hands lets go of your hand, and she wraps her hand around your neck, choking you slightly.

"Answer: Who do you belong to?”

“I’m yours. Please, can I cum?” you ask, whining.

She laughs but shakes her hand. You grind more against her, trying to convince her with the way you move on her thigh or with your moans, which leave your lips. But she just grins and looks at her thigh.

Your panties are already soaked with your slick, like her thighs. Your moans get needier, your head is thrown back, and Florence uses that moment to kiss and bite into the sensitive skin of your neck. You’re turning into a moaning mess; the feeling in your stomach grows, and you can almost feel your orgasm. Your legs are shaking, and your breath is heavy. But you don’t cum, not until Florence allows you to cum.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Who is the one who can fuck you like that? Can touch you like that. The one who wants to hear those pretty moans of yours?”

“You. You, babe. I need to cum.”

She laughs, your hips moving faster against her leg. Your cunt drips, and with every move over her leg, you moan loudly. The hand she doesn’t hold in hers finds its way to her shoulders, trying to get some hold, a way to ground yourself from the growing pleasure.

“I love you, babe,” she mumbles, leaning closer and capturing your lips with hers.

Her soft lips move against yours, and the kiss is passionate but soft. When her tongue glides into your mouth, you moan and feel the orgasm hitting you. You cum all over her leg, squeezing around nothing. She smiles against your lips, biting your lip.

“I love you, too," you say, resting your forehead against hers and riding your orgasm out.

Your legs are still shaking, and you need a moment to catch your breath while Florence cleans her thigh. Then she walks back to you, kissing you once more and sliding her hand between your legs. Her fingers are stroking over your wet panties and she smirks.

“Haven’t told you you can cum, and you made a mess. I think we have to practice that,” she grins, getting a moan in response. Her green eyes show pure lust and anticipation.

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh x you #Florence Pugh smut #Florence Pugh x fem!reader #Florence Pugh x fem!reader smut #florence pugh fluff #Florence Pugh fanfic #Florence Pugh x fem!y/n #Florence Pugh x female reader #Florence Pugh x female y/n #lgbtq bingo #bingo of our own

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gowiththeflo · 13 days

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Dating Florence Pugh HC’s (fem! reader)

Hello hello!!

hope you all are doing well, i apologize for my absence. i’ve written so many things but i haven’t had the energy to actually post it 😭😭 I have SATs next week and i’m SO SCARED PLZ WISH ME LUCK

anyways pls enjoy!!

TW: None!

(she’s so cute i need her ☹️❤️)

-Sweetest girl ever

-God she loves you so so much

-She is an angel and she cares about you so much

-She loves dates with you, especially when you stay home and she teaches you how to cook her favorite foods <33

-She’s both an early bird and a night owl

-Some days she’ll wake up at 6:00 am and other days she’ll sleep till noon

-Big cuddle bug :3

-She loves to hold your hand

-She doesn’t really like spooning, as she likes it when you’re facing her when you’re sleeping more than anything, mostly because she wants your face to be the last thing she sees before she falls asleep at night and the first thing she sees when she wakes up.

-She loves everything about you; your eyes, smile, laugh, etc.

-She loves finding freckles on different parts of your body

-She does it all the time, and she traces them gently with her fingers when she finds them. She finds it fun, and it helps you sleep, so it’s a win-win situation :)

-She also really likes to write little love letters for you and leave them around the house for you to find :)

-She also will give you “just because flowers” bc she’s a sweetie

-“Darling” “My Love” “Sweetheart”, “Babe”, “Baby”, “Angel” “Babygirl” (but in a sweet way bc it’s flo flo) “Sweetness” “Cutie”

-She loves it’s when you guys wake up extra early to watch the sunrise together every anniversary or birthday <3 (with billie ofc)

-Overall just the best girlfriend ever

————————————————————————

Thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed! if you have any suggestions please send them in!

-Shea :P

#florence pugh #wlw #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x fem! reader

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

Text

Rome Wasn’t Built in a Day

Florence Pugh x Fem!Reader

Warning: Jealousy (on both ends), Insecurities, Alcohol

Smut: Top!R x PowerBottom!Flo; Oral(Flo—Face-Riding), Strap (F), Subtle Overstimulation, Kinks: Choking

Requested by: @Jujuu23

Request: Alright! I was actually wondering, could it be a Florence x female reader where reader is her girlfriend and accompanies her to the Valentino's Rome couture show and gets kinda jealous and insecure at the after party with another famous that gets too touchy (you can choose whoever you like) ‘cause she had never loved someone like Florence before? Just some angst but then super fluff and romantic and could there be a smut too? with Top!reader and power!bottom Florence with some praise kink, but only if you’re comfortable, if not it’s totally fine with just the fluff. ☺️

Florence was smiling from ear to ear as she watched you slipping into the sheer top that paralleled her current pants perfectly, and was sort of an homage to her previous years outfit.

"Oh my word, I'm not sure how long this'll remain on you.," she purred as her hand fell to your hip so that she could turn you to face her., "You look positively beautiful my darling girl."

Florence loved flustering you like this the very most, it was the way that her teasing words or her soft caresses could make you freeze up while nervously biting into your lower lip, and ducking your head down to avoid her gaze, it filled her chest with pride. As if you forget how much she wants you, no matter how much she reaffirms she's in love with every bit of you.

——

"Are you ready to go?, she smiled knowingly as you found your voice, and deflected her tease., "The event starts soon, and we don't want to be late, or miss your chance at the red carpet."

"Our.," she corrects with a peck to your lips, because even though she wants to deepen it, the risk of getting carried away was too high, as well as her fresh gloss would require a fixing.

The drive to the venue was short, and sweet. Florence's driver had the partition up, and the two of you sat in the back in a fit of giggles as you recounted the times he'd rushed to lift it whenever you two were in a heated moment as you entered the car without regards to him. Frank is seemingly learning it's safest to just always be prepared for your scandalous ways.

It was as the car encroached the venue that you were both no longer giggling, instead you were fiddling with the rings adorning your fingers, and your lover frowned at you clear anxieties.

"Hey there," she smiled as her hand now laid over yours, and you met her with a nervous one of your own., "It'll be okay darling, we're here together, and therefore we're invincible."

A reminiscent smile took over your face as you let her words soak in. There really was nothing you couldn't do with her by your side, so after a brief kiss the two of you exited the car with hands interlocked and a shout of thanks sent back Frank's way as you entered the event

After walking the red carpet with Florence for a wide array of photos and short interviews you stood back and allowed her a chance for solos. Much to her dismay truly, because you knew that having you at her side helped to lessen her anxiety, but you both also knew that the world was expecting glam shots of the blonde starlet.

The fashion event was rather nice, the outfits showcased were surely eye catching, but you were primarily focused on your lovers outfit, and now that you were drug along to the after party you had the time to ogle her properly.

The bejeweled, sheer pants gave you the perfect view of her ass as she mingled with others while you graciously sat at the open bar. But with that privilege for you came a clear disadvantage, all others present had the same luxury, and that's normally never been much of an issue for you, but right now it surely was.

Florence was laughing animatedly at a joke a fellow actor made, her joy usually made your heart beam, but the hand of her Marvel alum Zendaya placed dangerously low on her back left you pulsing with waves of pure jealousy.

The jealousy stemmed from your insecurities, because truth be told they looked good together. Like they actually fit together in a way that the two of you never would, and it terrified you to think she would realize that. That she could live a far more fulfilling life with someone as show stopping as Zendaya, but for some odd reason she's chosen to settle for you.

It was a scary thought—losing her, it was so far from a reality you'd welcome, you loved her so much, more than you'd ever deemed possible.

As if Florence could feel your heart breaking she turned to you with a deep smile, that just as quickly morphed into a frown of concern as she rather swiftly excused herself to get to you.

"Wow darling, you're properly pissed.," Flo laughed as she took your inebriated form in up close, and you only frowned, far too drunk to understand that was her actual insinuation, and not that you were furious; rightfully so.

"You would be too if you had to watch others eyeing me like I was still on the market, and putting their hands all over my body."

Now she was frowning, her hand flew up, and she silently looked to the bartender, he nodded and as he got you waters she stepped up closer to you, settling her soft hands on your cheeks.

"Darling, I very well have, those men have yet to remove their eyes from your chest, it's kind of the one of the reasons I rushed over here.," she admitted, you pouted at her sincerely, in your focus on her and Zendaya you'd failed to even consider the expectant stares of others on your breasts., "Also, my love, you do remember Zendaya has a fiancée right? She's just always been a very touchy person, it was harmless."

"It's not just her Flo.," you sighed dejectedly, and the blonde's heart constricted when you met her gaze, and tears laid in your eyes., "Everyone here is a much better match for you, like look at that gorgeous brunette who's eyes have yet to leave you all night.," you basically shouted, far too drunk to reel your volume in.

Just as fast though, your volume quieted to a whisper as your head dropped., "You deserve better Flo, I'll never be as pretty as your circle of Hollywood friends, why are you settling?"

Florence's jaw clenched., "Stop it, right now!," her hand grabbed yours, and with a quick step she pulled you somewhere far more secluded, and without the watching eyes of tabloids.

"I'm not settling.," she shortly relayed while angrily pacing the small space., "I love you!"

"If I dated the brunette, or Zendaya, or anyone else Hollywood ships me with then I'm settling. God, you really don't see it do you Y/N?," her voice broke as she looked into your eyes at the end., "You're the most beautiful person here tonight Y/N, their status changes nothing, nobody else does to me what you do baby."

"I'm sorry Flo, I didn't mean to cause a scene."

"No, I'm sorry I didn't keep you with me, our invincibility only works with you on my arm.," she winked, then pulled you in for a sweet hug.

Florence heard you gasp softly as her grey top brushed against your pert nipples, a wave of arousal ran through her at the needy sound, and as your hands naturally gripped her by the hips possessively she was beyond ready for it., "Take me home Y/N; fuck me like I'm yours."

Frank's eyes widened when he saw the two of you running towards the car, he unlocked the doors, and knowingly turned the music up.

Florence straddled your lap, her lips ghosting yours as you refused to kiss her until you got the belt around the both of you, and buckled her body to yours for the short ride back home. Watching you struggling with the process was amusing but it reminded her you were drunk.

Then when you kissed her she could taste the heady remnants of vodka cranberry on your lips, and when your tongue hotly slipped into her mouth it was an non-dismissible fact.

"Drink the water my love.," she instructed as the both of you panted wildly., "There will be no going further if you don't sober up some."

Florence's eyes widened when you snatched the bottle from her and gulped it right down. Then you repeated the process with a second one, then haphazardly crushed the bottles, and yanked her face forward for a sloppy kiss.

As soon as Frank courteously opened your door you exited with Florence's legs wrapped tightly around your waist, and as you navigated the hallways of your home her lips worked to cover the exposed side of your neck in pink lipstick.

Florence grinned when her back had hit the mattress, she could feel the strap that had been hidden in your pants this whole time; she was growing more desperate as your hands slid her top off with ease, and your mouth enveloped her nipple, her hand flew to your hair, and she moaned languidly as you stimulated her chest.

"I'm going to ride your face.," she commanded, voice raspier than normal as she was overcome with need., "I'll soak your pretty little face love, marking my territory so you can remember I'm all yours, and also that you're all mine.," there was a growl to follow her words as she shoved your back against the mattress, and moved quickly to straddle her cunt over your mouth.

The way everyone had stared at you with want as you only stared at her affected her just as much as it did you when you saw Zendaya's hand on her back. Knowing that others even flirted with the idea of you as an option, when you very well were hers, well it made her angry.

Florence lowered herself onto your extended tongue, her hips moving furiously against you as she grew far more affected by your talents. Arousal was ever flowing as she rutted, your face was akin to a slip n slide as she selfishly used it for her pleasure. Not that you would complain, tasting Florence was your favorite, and no matter the position you happily gave her the pleasure you knew she craved, and were always dutifully rewarded by her orgasm.

"Oh fuck.," she screamed as your tongue expertly swirled around within her., "Yes, just like that, fuck, please don't stop Y/N.," you mumbled against her, she obviously couldn't hear your 'I wouldn't dream of it,' but she felt the vibrations running throughout her body., "Need to cum, please let me cum baby!," she rasped, and with two taps to her thigh you gave her express permission to drench you.

With an unexpected quickness she slid down your body, her slick coating your clothes that have yet to be removed. Her lips latched onto yours, moans spilling into your mouth as her hips ground down against the bulge in your pants, all while her hands tugged at your top.

In a seconds time you'd flipped her over, and much to her whimper's complaints you stood up, and chuckled at your desperate lover., "Hush my love, be patient for me please.," she looked to you with hazy eyes that only grew murkier with lust as you stripped your clothes from your body, and the strap dropped out.

There was a look of mischief on your face, the tease on the tip of your tongue as you hovered above your girlfriend once again, but it died there as she gripped the silicone's shaft, and pulled it to her entrance with ease., "Fuck me, and don't stop until I'm trembling, got it?"

“There you go my darling.,” she purred as you entered her slowly., “Fuck, you’re so big baby.,” she winced as you eventually bottomed out.

Florence’s whines melded into breathy, erotic moans as your soft lips laid over her pulse, you began to nip and suck at the smooth pale skin to properly mark her up in deep hues of purple, blue and red to reclaim her as yours outwardly. As a plus it also served as a way to distract her from the momentary pain, giving her a chance to adjust before you quickly picked up the pace.

It wasn’t long before her walls were clenching around the silicone, you always did know just how to get her over the edge with minimal time needed. When you heard her breathes become more choppy you pulled your head back from her marred up collarbones to catch her release. Flo gasped as you did, the sight of your face smirking down at her as your thumb swiveled over her clit made her entire body warm up just before her back arched, and legs trembled.

Florence’s hands flew up to tangle into your hair as she sloppily kissed you while riding out her high. The waves of pleasure always seemed to intensify when she had your tongue in her mouth, she suckled on the muscle as you never wavered in thrusting into her cunt, her muffled moans now sensationalized on your tongue.

“Fuck, you’re so hot Florence, gonna make me cum with just those pretty noises alone.,” you groaned as she finally let you go to breathe., “I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll never let anyone touch you ever again; you’re mine.”

A shiver ran down her spine when she saw the look of determination in your eyes, excitement flooded her entire being as you kissed her so hard she couldn’t even begin to think straight. A loud moan was ripped from her throat next as you pulled out of her just to roughly grip her by her hips, flip her over, and slam back inside of her with a reinvigorated passion to own her.

Mind, Body, and Soul

With your hand on her hips for leverage you began to fuck the strap into her sopping cunt. Not an ounce of mercy was given nor felt as your thighs repeatedly made contact with her ass, a loud slapping sound reverberating off the walls along with her sloshing pussy, broken moans, and your deeply affected pants, it was all the noise expected as you lost your minds.

All you could think about was letting go, and helping the gorgeous blonde to do the same.

With your hand suddenly wrapped around her throat from behind, and her back flush to your front as you pulled her upright and fucked the strap up into her she reached the precipice, and with the decrease in oxygen from the pressure you applied to her throat she flew right into her orgasm, the feel of her slick dripping down your thighs aroused you tremendously, and as she pushed her ass down you screamed in ecstasy as waves of pleasure ran through you.

Florence groaned as your connected bodies hit the mattress, the strap moving inside her as you collapsed right on top of her. The two of you laying like that while you both worked to regain a semblance of composure, and once the blonde was less foggy she began to squirm from underneath you, a telltale sign that she wanted more, and you were ready to please.

“I need more, please, don’t stop darling.”

“I’m not stopping just yet baby girl.,” you gently thrusted, she groaned at the sensitivity she felt, but her hips still pressed back to help you reach even further depths., “Wait, I-I.”

“I-I need to see you.,” she panted., “I want to feel you baby, flip me back over.,” she weakly commanded in a muffled manner with her face still pressed up against the sheets, you smiled at the idea that she’d be this desperate for you, it wasn’t often she showed this needy side.

As soon as you eased the strap out of her you gently returned her to her back, and slipped right back in where you belonged., “Kiss me.,” her breathless plea paired with a pouting set of swollen lips had you giving her just what she wanted, and she thanked you with a slow roll of her hips to meet yours, and you whimpered at the stimulation caused to your swollen clit.

Her hands groped your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples as your tongue slid over hers, lazily exploring her mouth while your hips kept up a steady pace mean to destroy her; you managed to push your strap so deep into her that she jolted with a scream of pleasure soon to follow, and your face flew into her neck as the hilt of the harness rubbed you just right to send you climaxing in tandem with your lover.

Florence could see you growing tired after your second and her fourth climax of the night, but she couldn't give this full sensation up, not yet., "My love, please, don't leave me all empty.," her shaky legs wrapped around you, linking together desperately to keep you locked inside., “I know you’re tired, but please, don’t pull out.”

"Hmm, does my precious girl want to warm my cock tonight?," she nodded aggressively, you smiled softly at her, and gave a teasing thrust as you connected your lips to hers., "Whatever you need, I'll give it to you baby, we can sleep like this, then come morning we'll clean up."

"Thank you my love, now get some rest.", she gently forced your face into her neck, then pulled the blanket up over your lower bodies., "Goodnight Flo.," you kissed her neck softly for a final time that night., "Goodnight Y/N/N."

As Florence happily lulled you to sleep with feather light scratches to your exposed back she scrolled through her phone and began to find photos to put her Instagram post together.

The first photo in her lineup she posted was one she found and instantly fell in love with. You were stood slightly in front of her with a nervous smile, her arms were wrapped around your abdomen, and her face was tilted beside your shoulder as she looked up at you lovingly. The second photo was another with you, it was taken directly after that one, your eyes were shut tightly as you relished in the feel of your lovers lips on your raised cheeks, it was sweet.

Though there were many more photos included of her with famed acquaintances, friends, and family the caption was mostly meant for you.

"The Valentino family was full of so much love and art and passion this weekend. Reminding me of how much love I have surrounding me, and just how important it is that I cherish it.

My MAMA got to come!! 2nd fashion show ever and she stole the evening. Always does!

Y/N—Baby, you were the best look of the night; I'll never tire of showing you off, everyone gets to see your beauty, but I, well I get to keep it."

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3,112 Words

❤️Kaitlyn🥰

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