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yelenaslyubov · 2 months

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A New Frontier: Part 1

a new frontier // part 1 // part 2

main masterlist || yelena belova || requests

a/n: welcome to the first part of my first series! like i said in my announcement, i’m not sure how many parts this series will have, but as i see it now, definitely over 6 so get excited about that!! this first part is definitely a build up to everything will be contained going further, so there’s not much adventuring in this one. i hope you enjoy!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: yelena belova x reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: language

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: you’re granted the opportunity to join the avengers on your first top secret mission together. not only are you navigating your newfound status as an avenger, but you’re also trying to hide your affection for another avenger, yelena. you travel to your location in stealth and soon find out what kind of mess you’ve really gotten into.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 3.2k

Your eyes jolted open when you realized you had fallen asleep accidentally.

“…and we need to act fast in order to make sure we do our part in this mess. And remember, none of you jackasses better make a peep about this, I mean it.”

Shit.

You had fallen asleep during the majority of Tony’s mission announcement. This was the first stakeout call that you had been invited on since you had been recruited. Most jobs were simple and thorough—fighting and taking down a villain and so on. Everything was usually the same, except this time and you missed it.

“Alright, that’s all I got. Be ready and down to the pad in an hour.” Tony dismissed everyone from the room when they all dispersed and you were left disoriented from the meeting.

“AH, I’m so excited!” you heard Kamala squeal. You assumed she had been asked out on the mission as well, making this her first too. “I’ve never seen a horse in person before!”

Now you were even more confused as to what was happening. You decided to be surprised rather than ask too many questions, especially since you were new. You couldn’t be caught slacking on the job already.

You went up to your room to pack whatever you could with the little information you had. You remembered something being said in between your slumber about it being dry and hot, so you kept that in mind.

You packed all the toiletries you had since you did not know when you would return. You didn’t have a permanent suit currently, as it was still being worked on and you didn’t know when it was going to be done. You hoped you could finally break into it on this trip so you wouldn’t have to use one of the hand-me-downs.

You jumped as you heard a knock at your door. “Can I come in?” Kate shouted through the door. Even before you could speak Kate had opened the door and was on a mission.

“Do you have deodorant or a hairbrush? I-I must have lost mine or run out because I don’t know where they went.”

Kate was the first friend you had made since you had been recruited. You both hit it off immediately and she made the transition from normal life to super life much easier.

“How does one not know when they run out of deodorant?” you chuckled.

“I honestly don’t know. I think I kinda just slap it on without looking while I’m halfway out the door,” she stammered.

“Well in that case, yes, I have both deodorant and a hairbrush so you lucked out today.”

“Ugh, thank you, you’re a lifesaver,” Kate sighed. “Oh, by the way! If you’re all good with it I think Kamala was going to bunk with me and it’s three to a room so you wanna join?”

“Uhm, that sounds good,” you responded. You were nervous to be in such close proximity to so many new people, but you were excited to be involved in something this secretive.

“Awesome! Well, I’ll see you down there then.” Kate smiled and then ran out of the room in the same manner she came. It was then you realized you missed your chance to ask her what exactly you all were doing and what you should bring. It added even more mystery.

You had filled your duffel bag to the brim with anything you could think of—a couple books, clothes for all weather conditions, a swimsuit, a coat, etc. You had said goodbye to your room for the time being when you ran into another Avenger in the hallway.

“Oh, uhm hey.” You were face to face with a green-eyed woman looking slightly up at you. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“It’s good,” the woman smiled and shrugged. She walked off without saying a word and you felt an uncomfortable aura blooming.

The butterflies in your stomach slowed their flutter the farther away the woman went. You had learned in your first few days as an Avenger that her name was Yelena. She had short blonde hair and the most captivating eyes you had ever seen. She was nothing short of intimidating so you had exchanged little words between the two of you. This was most inconvenient for you because you were tired of her staring at you as if you were a bit helpless.

You hoped this trip proved otherwise.

You were still awkwardly standing in the hallway after your encounter with Yelena when Kamala came out of her room with what looked like all her belongings balances in her arms. You could make out her eyes peeking between different objects that looked like a fan and a small table.

“I hope I packed enough,” she said through muffled words. “I don’t know how long we’ll be gone.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any problem with that,” you laughed. You watched her carefully walk down the stairs with the rest of her things.

Based on everyone’s timely exit, you assumed that you should probably make your way down to load up. When you made your way down to the pad where everyone else was waiting. Everyone’s packs varied in size so you had no idea how your packing job compared to anyone else’s.

Wanda and Nat had a decent sized suitcase for the both of them to share and others had small duffel bags. You giggled a little to yourself when you saw Peter’s only bag which appeared to be his school bag.

“How did you manage to fit everything in there, Pete?” you asked him.

“Oh uhm all I really need is a few clothes, but the rest is homework.”

“You’re bringing homework on an Avenger’s top secret mission?”

“Uh… yes?”

“That sounds like a sad life, Peter Parker.” You looked to your right where Yelena was standing. “Do you do anything for your own pleasure… like ever?”

You, Yelena, and Peter all stood together staring at one another, waiting for someone to say anything.

“Alright!” Tony yelled. “It’s time to load up.”

Everyone made their way onto their biggest quinjet they had and found their seats. You sat towards the back of the jet as you filed in behind Yelena. Conveniently, you sat directly behind her so you had the perfect view for the duration of the flight. Kamala sat down next to you with her stuffed giraffe in hand.

You heard the echo of the seat buckles clanking together as everyone took their place. You then watched as Yelena twisted her hair up high and put it in a bun. You were mesmerized by the way her blonde highlights caught the glimmer of light shining through the small windows.

Kate looked back at you at the wrong moment because she caught you staring at Yelena. She smirked and winked, signaling that she planned on keeping your secret. Your face was flush with embarrassment. You had not planned to let anyone in on your little crush but there was no going back now. All you had to do was prevent Yelena from finding out.

Tony hopped on last and shut the large door behind him. “As much as I wish I was joining you on this part of the excursion, I’m going to be residing on a small base right outside of the airport we’ll be flying into. I’m working on tracking air transportation as well as focusing on the technical aspects of the issue. I will be checking in regularly.

“As much as I would love to fly everywhere, we have to be more careful.” You looked around at the others to see if they had any clue to what he was talking about. “Once we arrive at the airport, you’ll be assigned vehicles that you must transport in. Using jets gets too risky with the high volume of dust and dirt. You would be noticed too easily that way, so it’s much easier to fit in with the rest of the crowd. Another form of transformation will be provided… promptly.”

Tony sat down in the controller seat without another word, leaving only you at a loss of what could be coming.

You stared at the back of Yelena once again before falling asleep to the sound of her voice and buttons pushing from inside the jet

You jolted awake at the sound of the large compartment door opening. It was abnormally bright and dust seemed to be swarming into the jet. You looked to your right to see Kamala passed out as well.

You stood up to stretch and grab your things, but you were distracted by the look on Yelena’s face as she stared at Kamala. She then turned to you and you were not sure what to do. Yelena looked as if she was trying not to laugh.

“You’ve got something about there…” Yelena gestured around the side of your mouth where you found dried drool from your peaceful sleep.

You frantically wiped it off the best you could and tried to shake the feeling of embarrassment that washed over you. “Oh, I’m sorry, thank you,” you nervously responded.

You proceeded to wipe everything off your face shamefully. You gave Kamala a small tap on the side of her arms in hopes to wake her up. She jolted awake as if she had been screamed at.

“What happened?” she said, groggily.

“You fell asleep…and it looks like we’re here,” you responded. You gathered your things and joined everyone at the front of the quinjet.

“Listen up!” Tony yelled. “This is where I leave you. You’ll be self-escorted from here to the designated vehicles that are waiting outside. I have implemented state of the art trackers and GPS in each of the vehicles. Try to use these vehicles as much as possible. When the time comes, by all means, do whatever is necessary to complete said task, but please, for the love of God, stay hidden. We do not need to be compromised and if I hear about any of you messing around…I will personally handle the situation, and you don’t want that.”

You looked back and forth from Kate to Kamala. You could tell Tony was being serious, which meant this mission was a whole lot harder than you led on in your mind.

As you all unloaded off of the jet the sun pierced through the door making you cover your eyes. Once your eyes adjusted to the brightness, you were met with the vast ground of red clay and trees in the distance. There was not a house or town in sight meaning you were far away from civilization.

“This is my worst nightmare,” Yelena whispered to Natasha.

“No kidding. I can already feel my skin sweltering,” she responded.

Your face recoiled when you saw the rides that were provided to each of you. “They’re joking right?”

“I wish,” Bucky said as he walked by you.

“Ain’t she a beaut, Cap?” Sam said while rubbing his hand back and forth down the side of the truck.

Before you were four rusty, beat-up pickup trucks that were supposed to be your rides for the time being. You weren’t even sure how long they were going to last. They were most definitely older than you.

“Are we sure these are safe to drive…or ride in?” Yelena questioned.

“They’re top of the line, I assure you,” Steve said.

“Maybe when you were born,” she mumbled.

You laughed at her comment and Yelena turned around to look at you and she smirked. Your face couldn’t help but turn a deep shade of pink, but you hoped the heat would disguise your blushing.

“Alright, let’s hit the road. We’re burning daylight here and it’s a two hour drive,” Steve informed everyone which earned a groan from each of them.

Steve, Sam, Bucky, Clint, and Peter took one of the trucks and planned on leading the way to the house. The rest of you assumed you could fit in one truck but there were two left and needed to utilize them both. One truck could seat five and the other could seat three; there were six of you left and you each knew you couldn’t leave someone behind by themselves.

“Race ya!” Kamala yelled. Nat, Wanda, Kate, and Kamala began to run to the five seater truck, while you and Yelena stayed behind. I guess you both assumed that it wasn’t worth fighting over.

You were hesitant to say anything at first but you were curious. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

Yelena shrugged. “My sister and Wanda can get gross when they’re together so I would rather be 100 feet away. But I hope you know I’m driving.”

You nodded in agreement, not wanting to go against her wishes. How could you say no?

You and Yelena put your belongings in the trunk of the car and shut it nice and tight so there was no way it could fly out and escape. Yelena climbed in the driver's seat while you sat next to her in the passenger's seat. The truck started with a sputter and music started blasting through the radio. Tony Keith’s voice rang out, causing you to plug your eyes.

“If this is what the trip has in store,” you gestured to the nature outside and then to the radio, “it’s going to be a long trip.”

“I think my ears are bleeding,” Yelena groaned.

“How about I do this.” You made the executive decision to turn the music completely off. “Better?”

“Much.” Yelena was satisfied with your choice. She followed the kicked up dust trail that led to the truck in front of them. They were farther ahead but you both hoped you hadn’t lost them.

In the meantime, you decided to look around the truck to see what all treasures were held inside. Just by looking at it, it didn’t seem to be anything special. The dash was covered in dirt and dust and old, empty bullet shells rested on top. There were no cup holders for drinks, only a bench seat that could fit another person. You found yourself wondering what would happen if you scooted just a bit closer. You brushed off the thought and continued your scavenger hunt.

There was no backseat, only a small gap that could fit a slender bag. There was a tacklebox that slipped under your seat, so you decided to dig through it. You gasped as you opened it to reveal a pistol made out of vibranium. You could spot it from anywhere.

“Woah!” you admired it. You shifted the small pistol in your hand, observing the craftsmanship.

“Oh shit,” Yelena said. Her eyebrows were raised, telling you she was just as impressed.

“They really did the most.” You took another look at it before you put it back where it belonged and slid it back under the seat. “What we’re to happen if we were stopped somehow and we had that in the car? Wouldn’t they do the math?”

“Look at this thing,” Yelena said plainly.

You looked around at the crusted steering wheel, the patchy seats, and the dirty covered floor. “I suppose you’re right.”

Yelena sighed and continued driving.

You watched the world go by as the clay mesa crowded your vision. It was beautiful in its own way and it was nothing like you had ever seen. The plateau of rock and the arches that presented themselves high off the ground. You may even learn to love it.

You then turned your attention to the driver. Yelena did not go anywhere in public without dressing her best. She was wearing wide cut jeans, a cropped shirt, and high leather boots. The dedication impressed you, especially in this weather. Your eyes wandered from her clothes to her skin and how her olive tone was tanned from the sun. Her eyes twinkled with the reflection of the endless blue sky and you found yourself drowning. Of course until Yelena looked over at you because you had been in a daze for too long.

You turned your attention back out the window with the hope that she wasn’t paying attention to your admiration. The more you stared out the window, the heavier your eyelids were. Eventually, you found yourself drifting to sleep once again with dreams of twinkling green eyes.

You felt a push on your left shoulder but you didn’t move.

There was another push this time, but much harder, causing you to sit all the way up. To your surprise, it was night. You rubbed your eyes and looked to your left to find that Yelena was staring at you.

“Did you know that you snore?” she said outright. Yelena unbuckled and got out of the truck, leaving you stunned all alone.You decided that it would be better not to respond because you wish you could forget it ever happened.

As you slid out of the truck, you looked up at the stars. You had never seen the sky so clear in your life. It was like lightning bugs had hung themselves way up high for everyone to see. You were so distracted by the sky that you didn’t notice where you were.

When you snapped yourself out of your trance you looked around. You were now surrounded by some species of pine tree you couldn’t recall with scarce grass. You were most certainly still in the desert but had traveled farther in the new direction.

In addition, you seemed to be up on a cliff. You looked around once more and there was no sign of a house, let alone anyone else.

“Uh, Yelena,” you questioned. “Where are we?”

Yelena was crouched down ahead of you looking down from the earth when she shushed you. You tried not to take too much offense. You walked to where she was in hopes of figuring out what was going on.

“Yelena, I said, where are-” Yelena covered your mouth quickly. You wanted to resist but all you could do was yell silently into the palm of her hand.

“Be quiet,” Yelena whispered, then held up a finger to her lips as she uncovered her hand from your mouth.

You huffed. “I just want to know what we’re doing out here? Where is everyone?”

“I took a little detour,” she admitted. “I just wanted to scope out the competition and Tony had already wired the GPS with significant locations so I knew where to go.”

“He should’ve known better,” you shook your head. You were already in this mess with her so you might as well finish it.

You focused your eyes to where she was looking to find a small sized building. It was nothing like you pictured it would be in your head. There was a flagpole outside the fence gates with an American flag on it accompanied by another flag that you could not make out. You squinted harder to see what picture was made out on the fabric.

“Is that…” You could spot the unique design of a skull with its six arms recoiled under.

It was Hydra.

i hope you enjoyed!

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#a new frontier #series #my writing #marvel #yelena belova #florence pugh #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova fic #yelena belova fluff #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x fem!reader #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x gn!reader #yelena belova x au #avengers au

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wonderlanddreamer · 3 months

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Reader POV.

Bite me, John Shelby - " Wait, I didn't mean literally!" 18+ Only.

Rough Desires - Tommy is always gentle with you, but you crave something with more ferocity. 18+ Only.

His Serenity - After Alfie has a bad day, you help him find peace in your own, sensual way. 18+ Only.

The Stable Girl's Sacrifice - Tommy Shelby is forced to confront his feelings when you take a bullet meant for him.

Buried - Buried beneath the earth, Tommy's only hope lies in your relentless determination to bring him back.

Sleep vs. Sex - Tommy wakes you up in the middle of the night because he needs you. 18+ Only.

Lean On Me - When you're hurt during an incident at the Garrison, it's Tommy who notices and takes care of you.

Head Over Heels - A business meeting with Alfie Solomons when Alfie has anything but business on the brain. 18+ Only.

Jealous Heat - It's a dangerous game making Tommy Shelby jealous, but you play it so well. 18+ Only.

Shadows and Vows - When Tommy discovers bruises on your skin, a fierce protectiveness awakens within him.

Obsession [For Nova] - John Shelby owns you, and he isn't going to let you forget it. 18+ Only.

Do You Know What Happens To Naughty Girls? - Where discipline sets the stage for an intense power play with the Shelby brothers. 18+ Only.

Main Lydia Masterlist

OC Interview - Lydia Shelby

Things Lydia would love if she existed in 2024.

Ao3 Fics.

Queen Of Kings - Nellie Ensor never expected to return to Small Heath, but fate had other plans. After her father's brutal murder at the hands of a ruthless gang, Nellie inherits the family business—a prize many would kill for. Torn between selling it off for safety and honouring her father's legacy, Nellie decides to stand her ground. Navigating a world steeped in danger, she finds herself entangled with the notorious Peaky Blinders. As threats loom and loyalties are tested, Nellie must find courage to protect her father's dream and carve out a place for herself in a world where survival is never guaranteed. In the heart of Birmingham, amidst the smoke and shadows, a legacy is about to be reborn.

Behind Enemy Lines - Fearless journalist Florence Fletcher is on a mission to expose the Peaky Blinders, but her relentless pursuit pits her against the dangerous and captivating John Shelby. When a greater threat looms, they must join forces, turning enemies into uneasy allies. Amidst the chaos and intrigue, sparks fly and forbidden passion ignites. Can they survive the shadows of Birmingham's underworld and find love, or will their secrets destroy them?

Blurred Lines - [A modern!Behind Enemy Lines spin-off] - Florence Fletcher has always been a thorn in John Shelby's side, but when he finds her drunk and vulnerable on a night out, his protective instincts take over. As he steps in to help her, the hard edges of their contentious relationship start to blur, uncovering unexpected depths and hidden feelings.

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fkinavocado · 5 months

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a very indulgent exploration of what could've, should've been...

Don't Worry Darling (SPIN-OFF) - Masterlist, Author’s Notes & Warnings / alternatively, read on wattpad

Part One (word count: 6.2k)

“... Jack? Excuse me, Jack? Is that really you?”

The man reluctantly stopped in his tracks and turned around, recognizing the woman but having forgotten her name. “Oh… hi there, uhm…?”

“Emma. It’s Emma. You remember me, right?”

“Yeah, you’re, uhm… you used to work at the hospital…”

Emma approached him, noting he wasn’t keen on breaching the gap himself. Poor fellow, she thought. He looked a mess. She was surprised she’d even recognized him. “Oh, I’m still at the hospital! How are you, Jack? You know, we’re all worried about you. Why didn’t you take us up on our offer, hm? We’d have loved to help you any way we could… It can’t have been easy. Gloria told us she came over once with a home cooked casserole but no one answered the door. She assumed you’d moved. Which is good, we thought. But we couldn’t get a hold of you, you must’ve also changed your number…”

Jack wasn’t really making eye contact. His gaze downcast, a hoodie atop of a beanie on his head and an oversized, worn out puffer jacket that almost swallowed him up. He looked very poorly even hidden behind all that. His facial hair unkempt, as was his hair tucked underneath his beanie, seemingly longer strands of it all messy and straw-like peeking out. His glasses loose at his temples. His face was hollow cheeked and she really feared he wasn’t looking after himself properly at all. But what really stood out to her was the bouquet of flowers he was carrying.

“Yeah… I moved out of there. Too many memories.”

“Those were her favourite… pink roses,” she mused. “You miss her so, don’t you, Jack? You can’t even bear talking to me about her, you poor man, even after all this time… What must you be going through… do you– agh. This is so insensible of me to even ask. Forgive me. But if it’s any consolation, us at the hospital haven’t given up hope. We still think she’s out there, somewhere, our Alice…”

Jack cleared his throat and took a step back. “I should get going…”

“Of course. Do take care of yourself, Jack. And if you ever want to reach out, you know where to find us. Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,...” he stammered a bit, not knowing what else to say. He walked for a while in the wrong direction, just in case the nosy woman decided to follow him.

He hadn’t moved. That would’ve been near impossible, and since he managed to dodge the bullet while the police were sniffing around for the longest time, he figured there wasn’t any reason to do so anymore. But he couldn’t have her know that, which is why he never answered the door to the other woman with the casserole either.

After making sure she wasn’t following him, he resumed his walk home. He wished he could find some type of work from home. He’d be saving so much time and money on the commute, plus he’d always be there, which was quite imperative, all things considered.

What if there was a power outage? The one time that’d happened, there’d been dire consequences. Consequences he hadn’t had to endure. And he simply couldn’t allow that to happen again.

There were so many things that could go wrong while he wasn’t home.

Plus, if he worked remote he could take on a full shift. As it was, he had to work part-time, which wasn’t nearly enough to make ends meet. But the commute and all the prep he had to do were taking up too much time, time he didn’t want to waste here.

Finally arriving home, he made sure to secure the front door- the lock and all 3 of the bolts.

Checking the computer screen, he only had 40 minutes left. The woman had made him late, what with all the detours he had to make to be sure she wasn’t following him.

Canned tuna it was, then. Again. No time for cooking. Not that he had much in the fridge anyway.

He always felt antsy between the time he got back home and logging in. He wanted to get everything done and out of the way as soon as possible- cooking, laundry, cleaning (more like tidying up, the apartment was far from clean even by his standards), everything on autopilot, peeking at the computer screen every now and then to make sure he didn’t miss his log-in window.

With 20 minutes to spare, that was his que.

“Oh!” He rushed back to the kitchen to retrieve the flowers, then using the keys that he wore on a chain around his neck for safekeeping, he unbolted yet another set of locks on the bedroom door.

There she was.

His heart always swelled in his chest seeing her there, safe and sound. Everyday day, without fail, a sigh of relief escaped his lips once he entered the bedroom. He’d probably never stop worrying while he was away for work.

“Darling, I… miss you all the time…” he hummed the lyrics to a song he used to sing to her often, placing the flowers in a vase by the bed. “Got you flowers, your favourite! Even that pesky Emma from the hospital remembers they’re your favourite. You’re so loved, hm? My precious girl.” He sat on the edge of the bed and reached to caress her supple cheek. “But I love you the most.”

Jack knew he did. Who else would do all this for her? Nobody! He tended after her, emptied out her waste bags as well as checked the respective connecting catheters were secure in place, cleaned her up, all without so much as wrinkling his nose. He replaced the IV, taking note that there was some bruising on that arm so he made sure to switch, he removed her compressive socks and massaged her limbs thoroughly before putting them back on, even made sure to hydrate her lips though she was getting all her nutrients through her IV, hell- he thought of everything. He did it all for her happily, and would do much more if needed.

She’d done so much for them, too.

She still did!

But long gone were the days where he’d see her come home from back to back shifts at the hospital, with barely any time to get some sleep in before she had to head back, all because she had to support the both of them all while paying off her student loans.

Medschool was so expensive. Had he met her before he’d have talked her out of that career path. He’d have talked her out of any career! No. That was his job. He was the caretaker. He was the breadwinner. It’d been like that since the beginning of time. It was only natural for the man to provide. The fact that she’d had to for all that time had been killing him, every day that he had to sit at home and wait for her to get back from the hospital only to see her defeated, exhausted, drained beyond belief.

Resident doctors were paid shit but strung out to the max. Especially surgeons.

Meanwhile, Jack had struggled to find a job for the longest time. Unlike her, he hadn’t gone to college, let alone university. His parents couldn’t afford it at the time and he knew better than to tie himself up in student loans. He’d had odd jobs but nothing really ever stuck. He had no real skills, and every entry job demanded some form of higher education nowadays.

Plus, someone had to do house chores, cook and clean. And they couldn’t afford help.

It’d been eating him up inside. It was all backwards!

All up until he’d met someone online and got to talking over a game of World of Warcraft. This guy swore up and down about this dark web programme he’d found, but it was all very hush-hush, and Jack had to put in some serious gameplay time until he managed to extricate the info out of him.

The guy was very paranoid about telling him and even used a code system for what to look up. Jack took the lead and before long, he fell down the rabbit hole of what he now knew to be the Victory Project.

He got so immersed trying to digest all this new info being thrown his way all of a sudden that he nearly got caught listening to one of the podcasts when she’d gotten home from the hospital one day. He’d even forgotten to call the plumber. Boy- had that pissed her off.

She was already on edge all the time. Never had any time for him anyway- but if she got upset over silly little things she shut him out completely.

He felt emasculated. Rejected. Reduced to a housewife.

Jack smirked to himself, as he tended to her whilst pondering all that. Securing the straps back around her wrists he mused at how things had changed. “I fixed it for us, I told you I would. Now you’re the one who’s waiting for me just as we speak. And I don’t even come home to you in scrubs, do I? No, I come home to you all handsome, suit and tie and ready to get my fill of you. Never too tired for you, am I darling? You’re such a great cook, god knows my mouth waters just thinking of all you’ve slaved over for us to feast on, but all I wanna do is feast on you instead. Aren’t you lucky?”

Jack watched her expressionless eyes for a moment as if waiting for her to answer him back, and promptly remembered to apply her eye drops, noticing they looked extra blood-shot than normal. He then finally got comfy in bed next to her. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. He was hard already just in anticipation of the way she’d excitedly open the door for him. The door to their lavish home, and their extravagant life together that he’d earned for the two of them. Him.

He fixed the device around his own eyes and turned it on, taking her hand in his.

“Welcome to the Victory Project. There are currently 72 active users.”

Nothing beat this. The pleasant, warm afternoon air sweeping through his perfectly coiffed hair as he rushed to get home to her from the Victory Headquarters. Here, the weather was always perfect… whereas, in the apartment, he had to keep the heating on a lower setting, the bill was ridiculous during the colder months. He always had to wear layers and layers, but not in the bedroom- no, he kept a radiator in there. All for her. He had to switch it off for safety reasons while he was away at work but it wasn’t like she was aware of her surroundings anyway! All the more reasons why he had to find something remote so he could work from home and clear up all these little things that bugged him about the whole arrangement.

But he didn’t want to think about all that, not while he was here. No, here, those problems didn’t exist. This was his preferred reality, this was what he chose to believe was real. All the rest was just a means to an end.

He could feel all his exhaustment leave his body the closer he got to the house. He seldom wondered why she couldn’t have done the same for him coming back from the hospital. Why she couldn’t just leave all that baggage at the door and be glad to be home, back to him, where he waited for her like a lovesick puppy with separation anxiety.

He knew the answer to that now, of course, and that was all Frank’s merit- the brain behind this whole thing. He’d listened to his podcasts for a long while before he enrolled into the program. There was no way she could ever respect him within their given dynamic at the time. The roles were reversed and she couldn’t allow herself to be a woman to her man.

He’d fixed it, though, and boy, had Frank been right.

Every day, without fail, he knocked on the door coming home from work and there she was- all smiles and carefree and so eager to please him, in any way he saw fit. All because she respected him now. He was the man of the house, he was the breadwinner, he put a roof over her head, he got her all her little heart desired and kept her satisfied and happy.

Which is why when nobody answered the door he was a bit taken aback.

Using his key that he’d rarely ever had to use himself to unlock the door, he let himself in and carefully inspected the silent house.

He knew, realistically, that there was no way something could’ve gone wrong- there was no crime in Victory. No one had broken into their home. But still, he searched the house tentatively. “Alice?”

Everything was spotless, and most striking of all, he couldn’t smell a trace of the homecooked meal he’d so been looking forward to. That tuna was enough to sustain his physical body, but not his large appetite.

Reaching the bedroom, he furrowed his brows with worry upon finding her… sleeping. Passed out on the bed, clad in her street clothes. She’d seemingly come back home from town exhausted and must’ve stretched her bones a bit by the looks of it.

He contemplated waking her up. Maybe crawling between her thighs and having her gasp awake at the feel of him lapping languidly at her folds. He loved waking her up like that, and she did too. She loved being loved on, and Jack absolutely loved pleasuring her. She was so much more responsive, so much more sensitive to his touch, he could pleasure her over and over for hours on end. Probably ‘cause of all the practice he was having on a regular basis. And maybe he adjusted some settings regarding his stamina while creating his profile too, but at the end of the day, why not? He did it for her. All of this was for her!

Jack grunted to himself before closing the door to the bedroom so he wouldn’t perturb her sleep, deciding last minute to forgo his initial plans. Funny he’d been reminiscing about how things used to be just in time for this to happen all of a sudden.

It must’ve been a glitch in the system or something. This wasn’t in line with what he’d designed for themselves. Here, they were never tired, ill or imperfect in any way. Jack made a mental note to look into this after he logged out.

In the meanwhile- he’d never tried his hand at cooking here, where presumably he’d be a lot better at it than he was in reality.

Just like with everything else.

Alice blinked her eyes awake. She took in her surroundings and hesitantly stood up on the bed in the dark room, letting her sight adjust.

How did she get back here? Not here, here. She had an inkling of how she’d managed that- but back to the house, from the Headquarters. She couldn’t remember making the trek back.

Maybe she didn’t have to.

Maybe this was the default setting she woke up to everytime after entering… the simulation. Because, what else was this if not that?!

How long was she out of it? Judging by the darkness surrounding her, a good few hours. Perking her ears up, she could hear music- so Jack was home too.

She cradled her knees to her chest, trying to let it all sink in. She hadn’t had time to properly digest what had happened, in her unconscious state.

Hell, she was surprised she could even remember.

But this explained it… explained all the fuzzy deja vu-like flashbacks she kept having. Explained her brain fog and all the things she just couldn’t follow through in her train of thought. Explained why she sometimes couldn’t account for most of her day until Jack came home from work, almost as if she’d been on auto-pilot.

Explained all the vivid “dreams”.

They weren’t fanciful dreams, idealistic wishes of a progressive feminist world for which she’d gotten shock therapy at the Victory’s doctor’s orders.

They were her memories.

Waking up tied down to that bed… her own bed, from another life, had been traumatic, but she clearly was still in shock to be so calm about it.

She hadn’t been calm initially of course- not when she couldn’t move her arms or blink her eyes shut.

She’d managed to slip out of the confines, her wrists weak and frail and barely recognizable, yanking her IV out of her vein by accident- she hadn’t even known it was there!, all in an effort to get those things that forced her eyes open off of her face.

She’d been hysteric. Tried to muffle her own screams, because she didn’t know who was around to hear them. Tried to calm herself down, but the more she noticed, the more she hyperventilated. Like the fact that had both urinary and rectal catheters sticking out of her. Then she noticed how emaciated she looked, almost like she couldn’t even recognize her own body. She couldn’t feel her limbs, she felt numb and achy all over, bruises all across her skin from sitting still for so long. Her throat was hoarse, she couldn’t really scream that loud even if she wanted to.

She’d fumbled out of bed and immediately collapsed to the floor. She was too weak to stand, and she prayed she hadn’t broken any bones in her fall. She sat there crying in a fetal position for god knows how long, thinking of all the fractures she’d fixed in the OR, and all her knowledge that had gone to waste.

All her life that had gone to waste!

This room, this bedroom- her old life came back to her in a flash, flooding all her senses. It felt like everything was finally clicking into place, and despite how miserable and utterly devastated she felt, it was a relief to finally figure it out.

With the way nobody came rushing into the bedroom, she knew she was alone. Unless Jack was at this computer, headphones on– oh god. She felt her mind split into two trying to reconcile the fact that these two very different men were one and the same!

She was alone strapped to the bed- which could only mean one thing. He wasn’t constrained like she was. He hadn’t been forced into this. Unless they were being kept separate… both victims of this sick mindfuck.

Because… surely– surely Jack couldn’t be behind this.

… Could he?

Scrambling for the door, determined to get some answers, she reached for the doorknob.

When she couldn’t get it to open, she mustered up all her strength to stand up- but still- it was no use. It was locked. And with the way it felt it looked like the door had been tampered with, bolted shut from the outside, not just locked.

She was trapped. A prisoner in her own home. She eyed the windows next and even if by some miracle they weren’t bolted shut too- she knew she was too weak to try and use the fire escape. She’d surely succumb to her death trying to evade. She needed a plan- a better plan.

Her brain was scurrying to come up with something-anything, all the while dry heaving at the sight of her waste bags still attached to her by those catheters and the overall stale smell of the room, but she knew that with how dehydrated she was, vomiting would take her out completely at that point. She head to keep it together, had to–

She’d heard what she recognized to be the front door. Her blood froze in her veins. She didn’t know who it was, she had no idea who was behind all this. She had no clue where Jack was, if he even was part of this– her heart told her no, he couldn’t have, but at this point she had no way of knowing what was real or not, let alone what this all meant.

She couldn’t risk being found conscious. She was clearly being kept in a comatose state, treated as one such patient at least, and the fact that she’d woken up from that induced state was definitely not intended to happen.

She remembered what had happened before she woke up like this- she’d reached the infamous, off limits Victory Headquarters. Because a plane had crashed in that direction, and the trolley driver didn’t believe her nor wanted to take her there!

She’d made the trek all the way there… it’d taken her ages, in the scorching sun- and finally, finally, she’d reached the imposing building, in hopes of finding some help or at least some answers at that point!

Next thing she knew, she’d woken up strapped to this bed. Her bed, in her old bedroom, from her old life that had been stolen away from her!

She needed to gather as much information as possible, and the only way she could do that was to get back into that bed and pretend she never came to.

There was no other way.

She hurried as best she could, barely making it back to the bed, made sure she was laid out in the same outstretched position. By some miracle, the catheters were still in place, their respective bags on the floor by the foot of the bed. The hardest part was fixing whatever that contraption was over her face and around her eyes. It dug deep into her flesh and she remembered to wipe any traces of tears from her face when new ones began rolling down her face. She was surprised her body could even produce them with how parched she felt. She then inserted the needle back into her bruised vein– which was sure to get infected at this rate, whoever was doing this to her was amateur at best, or they didn’t much care to keep her alive. She didn’t know which prospect was worse. She slipped her wrists back through the strap loops, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious she’d gotten them a bit loose when she struggled her way out of them.

And then she’d waited. And waited. And waited. All the while a bright red light scanned her eyeballs systematically, no doubt whatever was used to induce her into that trance or whatever it was that created the optimal parameters for the alternate reality to take place. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around it. She couldn’t even begin to understand how it worked- all she knew was that it was all too real to be just a dream. No. That was a controlled environment. The world simulation came to her again.

Her whole body froze as she’d heard the lock, then what she counted to be 3 other bolts on the bedroom door. She could only see directly above her, and that barely- but she could hear him when he came in.

Smell him, even.

And it wasn’t the smell of expensive cologne she’d grown used to, but a more familiar smell. A smell that felt more real, more ingrained in her subconscious- that of clothes he’d dug out of the laundry hamper to wear a few more times when everything else was too dirty even for his own standards, mixed with canned tuna and the faintest amount of deodorant that did nothing to mask the fact that he’d skipped showering for a day or two.

Her heart sank when she heard him hum to himself the song that had been stuck in her mind for ages- the one she’d been humming herself but couldn’t remember where she knew it from. This is where she knew it from. It’d been their song, in a way, a song he’d made up just for her.

“Darling, I… miss you all the time… Got you flowers, your favourite! Even that pesky Emma from the hospital remembers they’re your favourite. You’re so loved, hm? My precious girl.” She felt him sit on the edge of the bed and tried her best not to flinch when he leaned in to caress her cheek. “But I love you the most.”

She could feel her eyes well up with tears. Tears she couldn’t even blink away.

He then started tending to her and she mustered up all of her willpower not to lurch at him when he’d gotten her out of her restraints- she knew she was no match for him, not in her weakened state by any means.

He was doing this to her. It was him! All while declaring his love for her. She felt her heart break into a million pieces, all the while forcing herself not to make any movements and break her cover. Not even when he cleaned her with wet wipes up and checked the catheters, emptying the waste bags. God- she wished she was dead. For a while she zoned out completely, much like rape victims. She just let it happen to her, dissociating from her body completely, mentally checking out.

He’d eventually poured what must’ve been eyedrops into her sockets and that brought her back to reality. Whatever reality was anymore…

And then… to her utter shock, she felt him get in bed next to her. The familiar clank of the device she’d placed back onto herself could be heard and she realized he was putting on the same headgear.

He was… joining her? He was willingly putting himself through this? Sure, he wasn’t forced into it against his will, there was nobody strapping himself to the bed, nobody feeding him through an IV and treating him like a comatose patient.

But he was entering the simulation the same way she was. Through that headgear.

Is this what he did everyday while he was “at work”? Was this the infamously secret Victory Project that she couldn’t even ask him about- exiting that alternate reality and coming back here?

She heard him switch it on and then the whole room went dark before a projector of sorts played a familiar black and white scene on the ceiling, above the bed. She felt him interlace his fingers with hers and she was done for- she couldn’t fight it. Whatever this was, it was working fast, making her slip into unconsciousness almost immediately.

Followed directly after by her waking up in her other bedroom. Unrestrained. Nothing to force her eyes open. Clean. Rejuvenated even.

But scared shitless.

Traumatised.

Heartbroken.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, trying to make sense of it all in the darkness. Thankful to be able to move freely, thankful to feel like her old self, but well aware that it was all an illusion, that her real self was held hostage somewhere god knows where. Helpless, frail and alone.

She felt conflicted. Why was he doing this?! Why had he done this to her? She’d heard him say he loved her most. Heard he’d brought her flowers, even though she couldn’t even see them. Felt him tend to her, he was doing a lousy job at it but was keeping her alive and she could tell he was trying his best, being gentle, careful, thoughtful even when the reality was he didn’t have to. Not when, for all he knew, she was unconscious.

This was insanity.

There was no other explanation. No other justification. She understood the nuances- could see why this was- on paper- a better life. But it was fake! And most of all, it wasn’t her choice!

She’d been forced into it, against her will, without her even being aware of it! Her life had been robbed away from her. Her family, her friends, her hard work. The only common denominator… was Jack.

She didn’t know how to go about it, but if there was any chance of her escaping, she had to play dumb and pretend she knew nothing.

She wasn’t sure how she could face him knowing what she did, but she had to. She had to buy time, enough time until she could put her plan into motion.

She didn’t know if she’d succeed, but she had to try. She had to. She had to escape, claim her life back, good or bad.

She got off the bed, marvelling at how strong and healthy she felt, as opposed to how she’d collapsed on the floor in her real body. That alone emboldened her, she had to go face the music.

And face the music she did. Jack had put a record on, blasting it at high volume with little consideration to her being asleep. No surprises there.

But as she approached the kitchen, she took in the sight of him… cooking. Or, trying to cook.

Apparently, you couldn’t tweak everything in this alternate reality. Or maybe he didn’t care to fumble with his cooking skills. Because he’d definitely perfected some of his other skills–

“You’re awake!... I didn’t have time to set the table.”

“What’s going on?” She watched him scurry around the kitchen, trying to do a dozen things at once and failing.

“Well, I’m making you dinner. Now, we were supposed to have five courses. Unfortunately, I think we’re down to about three.”

She took note of the mess, especially the way something was about to catch on fire on the stove.

“That– don’t look at that. That course is officially off the menu.”

That’s when it clicked in her brain– the fucker had switched up his accent! He had a British accent here! Oh, she could laugh if she didn’t feel like murdering him. She reminded herself it wouldn’t be the real him she’d be murdering, though. No, for all she knew if she harmed him in any way here, she might end up trapped inside this simulation forever if her plan failed. Or until her real body died, with no one to tend for it, even as poorly as he was, in the real world.

She had to thread carefully. “What happened?”

“I got a little aggressive with the seasoning.”

“How long have you been home?”

“Uh, a few hours.” He proceeded to make even more of a mess in his attempt to jump from one dish to the next. “Okaaay. Nope. Don’t look at that. That’s– Okay, so I’m making that roast, you know the one you made for my birthday? Only with a few changes…”

“I was here when you got here?”

“Yeah. Asleep in the bedroom. Do you put carrots in a roast?”

“How did I get home?” That was a reasonable question. Last thing she knew of this reality was she’d reached the Headquarters. She needed to know if anyone knew about it.

“Trolley, I think.”

“Wait, so he came out and got me?!”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Jack, I got off the trolley. I saw a plane crash.”

“Alice, I think I would’ve heard if there was a plane crash.”

“No, Jack, I saw it…”

“They tend to be rather loud…”

“... and I started walking–”

“–and hard to miss.”

It was dawning on her that she wasn’t going to milk any info on this out of him. He was going to pretend the plane never crashed, of course, whatever that even meant for this simulation. Or maybe the plane crashing was only visible to her version of this altered reality. She couldn’t know for sure. But he seemed unconcerned otherwise. She didn’t think he knew she’d gone there. She really must’ve re-entered right back into the bedroom, after all, she, along with all the other women, were never meant to go up there, the Headquarters were off-limits.

Meaning that was probably from where the men entered. Since they were the only ones who came and left. The women were probably all bound to their own respective beds back in the real world, they were never meant to leave the simulation. It made sense why she’d found herself back in the house- where she belonged. And it made sense if that was where the man entered and exited since that’s where they all allegedly went everyday for “work”.

Her heart sank at the realization that it was highly probable that all the other women were victims, just like her. Unless everything and everyone else was a simulation around them.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

She tried not to flinch when Jack finally noticed she’d zoned out whilst trying to process all of this, and touched her shoulder, taking a better look at her.

“No…I don’t know–I’m not…”

Before she could react, he pulled her into his arms. That smell of expensive cologne hit her again, overriding the smell of stale clothes and canned tuna from her recent memory. And his embrace felt so familiar, so comforting, that for a moment she allowed herself to pretend like this was the person she knew to love her. The person she couldn’t wait to come back home from work everyday. The person that made her smile and laugh and moan and cry tears of happiness. She knew him well, she loved him with all her heart. And she was reluctant to accept that this man was the same that was keeping her strapped against the bed. Because that was the reality of it.

But this version of Jack that was holding her felt so real as well…

“I had a really weird dream. A really weird dream…”

“I’m sorry.”

Her heart sank. Was he, sorry? She buried her face deeper into his chest and held her breath, stifling a sob as tears flooded her eyes immediately. She wanted to break down in his arms and ask him why he’d done this. She wanted to give him a chance to explain himself. Wanted for him to somehow, magically, make it all better.

But she knew there was no way for him to do it. There was nothing he could say or do to justify what he’d done to her, even if his intentions didn’t seem as evil as they truly were to him.

Because she knew Jack. She knew he’d probably convinced himself somehow that this was the only way out of the miserable life they were living- and be it as it were, it was her life! He’d had no right to steal it from her like that.

“Do you know what weird dreams make me? Hungry.” He fed her a carrot he was holding jokingly then turned her around as she chewed absentmindedly, her mind racing, still taking in the reality of what her life was. Or the alternate reality, more like it.

Jack cupped her face, searching her eyes and declared solemnly, “Alice, I want to be honest with you about something.”

She almost choked on the carrot she was chewing on. Was he–

“I don’t think these mashed potatoes are gonna work.”

She swallowed, a bitter taste in her mouth at her naivete. “That’s because you need to boil them first, baby…”

“I knew it… I knew there was a step missing. Such an idiot,” he smiled bashfully.

She laughed at that. A manic laugh, but he didn’t seem to notice. Not at how incompetent he was at such a basic life skill- who the hell tries to mash raw potatoes?!- but at how hopeful she’d been for a moment there, believing he was about to confess everything just like that, out of the blue.

“Let me put a pot on…”

“No, no, no–”

“Come on, let me–”

“Make us some drinks. Relax.” He pulled her out of the kitchen and into the lounge, declaring “I am your chef tonight!”

Lord knew she desperately needed a drink at this point, so she sighed heavily, getting to it, when he stopped her in her tracks, “hey!”

“Hm?”

“You love me?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She replied like she used to, back in the real world. Something she didn’t remember ever doing here, but it just came to her by reflex now that her memory of her past life had come back to her fully. And for some reason that she couldn’t explain, she meant it, still. “The most.”

Jack seemed pleased with her answer, and resumed his ‘cooking’. Alice turned to the whiskey bottle and downed two doubles, one after the other.

How was she ever going to get free when her stupid heart had meant what she said?

She couldn’t allow herself to be fooled by this false reality any longer. Couldn’t allow to slip into his arms again and pretend he loved her when this was anything but love.

So she waited. Waited until he fell asleep that night (thankfully all the “cooking” had seemingly tired him out and he didn’t try anything)- praying this meant he was truly asleep.

Got dressed, tiptoed out of the house and geared up for a long journey to the Headquarters. She couldn’t risk taking the car and waking him or the neighbours up, alerting them with this unusual behaviour. There weren't any trolleys late at night by any means- everyone was sound asleep.

Everyone but her.

She was no longer asleep.

A/N: i've been meaning to get to this for the longest while! hopefully it scratches some itches we've been left with. i had fun writing this first part. more to come 👀

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

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#dwd #don't worry darling #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #jack chambers #florence pugh

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littlexscarletxwitch · 10 months

Text

── ༊*·˚⋆ 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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sadesluvr · 3 months

Text

CAT & MOUSE. (I)

Miguel O’Hara x Black Cat! F! Reader Warnings: Fighting, physical injury, pressing + sexual innuendo READ ON AO3 | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER

The feeling of wind through your hair as you stared out onto the city never got old.

There was a freeness that came from being the Black Cat. You indulged in the glitz and glamour of material possessions without ever really working a day to get it; spending the evenings into the dark of night scaling rooftops and plotting your next theft rather than packing school lunches. That motherly, parental sort of thing didn’t really amuse you anyway.

For you, nothing was ever out of the ordinary. You’d had your eyes on the crime world for a while; and the nature of your ‘job’ made it so that PI’s, henchmen or straight up villains were almost always on your tail. More often than not, they never managed to keep up with you anyway.

That was why you weren’t surprised when one afternoon a portal had opened...literally out of nowhere.

You would’ve gotten the hint that it had something to do with the futuristic-looking watch that sat around your wrist if you hadn’t been lunged at by a man in a red and dark blue Spider suit.

Hardly surprising.

“What, no introduction?” you purred.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Instinctively, you backflipped out of the way, landing behind an air vent and using it as a post to check your surroundings. Though the man was agile, he was also large, and didn’t possess your graceful discretion, allowing for you to roll away as he came up behind you, claws slicing through the metal in his attempt to scratch you.

You managed to nip at his calves as you did, his knees momentarily buckling before he chased after you, following your sprint along the red-bricked apartments.

No matter the situation, you always found a thrill in the chase; revelling in the sensation of feeling weightless.

Most of the buildings were densely built, allowing you to jump between them easily. That didn’t last long as you encountered a large gap that happened to be an intersection of the main road.

Swiping out your grappling hook, you latched onto a telephone pole as the rope swung you to the nearest surface, the edges of your feet narrowly missing a particularly thick branch of tree. As you did, you were able to catch a glimpse of the man behind you, his hunched form and bared claws evident in his reflection.

“You shouldn’t be here!” he yelled. His voice was muffled over the whirling of air pressure from your gliding. You turned around to flip the man off, which clearly agitated him. Launching himself into the air, his movement looked like an eclipse as he flipped over you, landing at your feet.

His actions were so fast and powerful that you barely noticed his hand fly towards you. At the last second, you shielded your hands in front of your face, pleasantly surprised not to be met with a punch in the face, but a throttle. He was so large that only one of his hands held both your forearms.

With a good hold on you, he held you against the edge of the rooftop, the small of your back pressing into the glass of a balcony. If you shifted too much, you were almost certain that you’d plunge right into the rush-hour traffic, traumatising schoolkids on their way home.

Your grappling hook was on the floor, leaving you with no choice but to fight your way out.

Grinning, you etched your leg up so that you pushed yourself even further over the balcony, wild hair dangling 12ft off the ground as you gave the Spider an eyeful of your exposed neck and collarbone. Momentarily he seemed distracted, and you used the leverage to deliver him a quick, but hefty kick to the stomach.

He keeled over, and you used the moment to pick up your hook. There was something sexy about seeing a Spider-Man on his knees, but you didn’t let it distract you.

Instead, you geared up for a swift roundhouse kick to the side of his face – only for him to grab onto your thigh, holding you to his strapping chest as he thrust your bodies into the side of the building adjacent to you.

Perhaps you’d gotten too cocky.

“Shit!” you hissed, watching as you both fell into an empty, gated alley, with piled garbage bins and random cardboard boxes there to break your fall.

Your spine hit the brick wall with considerable force, violently knocking the air from your lungs. For a moment, your body went limp, crippling pain from the centre of your back spreading to the other parts of your body, producing a shooting twinge to your skull and toes. The man had one hand around your neck, holding you effortlessly in place as the large flat of his palm pressed against your windpipe. You had no choice but to choke – oxygen few and far between as he showed no signs of letting you go.

There was something different about him compared to the other Spiders you’d encountered. For one, it was striking that he hadn’t used spiderwebs during his haste to detain you, instead having sharp red talons for jabbing, and secondly – the most damning one of all – there had been no banter. Being the Black Cat meant that repartee with Spider-Man was a given, if not a bit of flirting and even a kiss here and there. This version was so painfully strait-laced, that it you found this romp even more intriguing, if not arousing.

“How did you come across this watch?” he said bluntly, the red lines of his suits’ eyes narrowing.

“Hello to you too...” you hummed, wincing as you continued to struggle against his grip. “I’d love to answer, but your paw’s got a hold on my windpipe.”

He grunted, his hand shaking as he contemplated the situation before dropping you. Not only had you been slammed into a building, but now you’d felt like you’d dropped a thousand feet to the ground, absorbing the force on your already aching thighs. Yes, this Spider was certainly different; stronger, ruthless...desperate.

Sighing, you took a deep breath as you watched him tower over you, the full scope of his body on show. He was ripped, at least on his upper torso, and had a toned, slender waist and legs - quite literally shaped like an upside-down isosceles triangle. Quite unlike anyone – or anything – you’d seen before.

“Escucha, no tengo tiempo para esto,” [Listen, I don’t have time for this] he said, the pixels of his mask unravelling to show off the man underneath. “Tell me where you got the watch.”

You were someone who would always appreciate the finer things in life – Persian cats, historic artworks, jewels – and a good-looking man was no exception. Though you loved being the Black Cat, it was apparent that you hadn’t thanked the universe enough for giving you the position, the very opportunity to fall into Spider-Man's grasp.

He was gorgeous; almost beyond words. He was looking down at you with a frown, but all you could do was grin.

“One of your little buddies dropped it during one of our meetings,” you smiled, peering up at the man through your lashes. “You should tell them to be more careful.”

“I know that means you stole it,” he replied. “I know exactly what you are.”

“Really?” you whispered, standing on your tiptoes to run your gloved finger along his cheek, claws gently grazing his unblemished skin. You felt the urge to slice him right there, to have rivulets of blood pour down his cheeks as they seeped into the beds of your fingernails; but you needed a moment to continue in admiring him. “Then you know how this usually ends...”

His eyelids flickered as they responded to your touch, but he merely brushed you off, large hands moving your own to your sides.

“I’m not like the others,” he said flatly. “I’m taking you home.”

“Hm, so you are.”

He furrowed his brows.

“To your dimension’s home,” he restated. “You’re not supposed to be here. You’re an anomaly, a threat to the multiverse --”

The man stopped as you rolled your eyes, so hard that you thought they might’ve stayed in the back of your skull. Though his demeanour remained stoic, he placed his hands on his hips and twisted his lips into a pout, clearly unamused by your insolence.

“Oh, sweetheart, you can’t be serious,” you laugh, shifting your weight. “I’m just a girl with expensive tastes...I have no interest in fiddling with the ball of yarn that you call a ‘multiverse’. If anything, you should be worried about the others. They’re the real freaks.” You said ominously, a small smirk on your face as you knowingly swiped your tongue across your lips.

He didn’t answer but gave you a pointed look, his piercing eyes giving you a once over. Clicking your tongue, you grinned, amused by his fight to put up a front. He was just like any male who was a control-freak, with apparent fits of rage and the superficial compulsion to intimidate people using silence. Luckily for you, not only did you know better, but you knew how to work with it.

More often than not, there was a sadness; a deep, scathing trauma that lay beneath the surface, and this man was no different. The wrinkles on the corners of his eyes told you so, as did his imperceptible reactions to anything that resembled a positive emotion – someone, something was plaguing his mind, and it was all buried under his impassive exterior.

Standing on your tiptoes, you cocked your head as you lowered your voice, words barely a whisper as you breathed into his ear.

“You’re hurting. I can fix that...”

Something seemed to flicker at the forefront of his mind.

It was at that moment that he shot a red, laser like web from his hands, its material roping around your waist and arms, once again glueing you into submission. Instead of a pain, there was an ecstatic thrill that you got from being cornered; a breathlessness, a light-headedness, a euphoria, making your chest heave in anticipation.

“You know nothing,” he hissed, pressing his body into yours. He was so close that you were able to see that he had fangs, pointed and bared just for you as your joint hormones radiated off each other, igniting a palpable heat. The individual hairs on your body were standing up in salute. “I don’t need your help.”

He seemed to swallow his words at that.

“Are you sure? Because I can be a real mediator...”

“Me being here should tell you otherwise.”

“It’s given you something to do,” you shrugged. “I’m generous like that.”

“Qué amable.” [How nice] he grunted.

“I’ve always been quite the giver,” you said, arching a brow. “You could’ve just asked for the watch. I would’ve handed it to you…”

Lifting your leg, you slowly began to rub the leather of your costume up his own suit, tracing the outline of his calves and thighs as you worked your way towards his pelvis. Your eyes were locked on his own as you did it, lips ever so slightly parted as you ached for his touch.

Well, something certainly touched you, but it wasn’t his lips. You glanced down knowingly as you felt a warm mound against your thigh. He was hard.

His large chest was heaving, and his breaths were shaky. It took a moment for him to pull away, but he was certainly frustrated, choosing to retract the ties around your body.

Smirking, it didn’t take long for him to shoot at you again, this time cuffing your wrists above your head to the rails of a fire escape, leaving your legs to dangle slightly off the ground. Like a piece of meat.

“You’re of a cat than me,” you grinned, a gleam in your eye as you spoke. “You like playing with your food, huh? Haven’t even taken me to dinner yet —“

“Stop talking.” He said bluntly, and you clamped your lips shut into a line, eyeing him with wide eyes. Diverting his gaze, he took the watch off your wrist, rolling it in his hands before he muttered to himself.

“LYLA…Radio HQ. I want answers as to who left this.”

A yellow hologram of an eccentric woman popped up, and she glanced between the two of you, a lazy smirk wiping across her features in recognition.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” she giggled before pulling out a camera. “Just marking the occasion.”

She snapped a pic, disappearing before the man could protest, leaving the two of you alone once more.

Now you suspected things to get serious.

Shaking his head, he glanced down at his own watch, pressing a few buttons so that it came apart. A flurry of colours came from it, producing the same portal that had appeared when he arrived. Its edges were jagged and electric, illuminating your skin with a whitish tint, even in the natural golden glow of the afternoon.

Bracing yourself, you expected to be thrust into the wormhole, but no such sensation came. Instead, the Spider had begun to back away from you and towards the vortex.

“What are you doing?” You hissed, rather outraged, and feeling painfully humbled. You happened to hate that sensation worst of all.

Again, he didn’t reply, and it seemed that he was back to being an avoidant asshole. Yet barely five minutes ago had he been putty in your hands at a simple touch.

The jig was up.

“You know I love this little dance of ours,” you hummed. “But acting as if you don’t know me? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re getting a little kinky in your later years, huh, Miguel?”

The dark-haired man scoffed, glancing over at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m not one to play stupid games,” he said. “But you started it, and I’ll end it...Como yo decida.” [However I decide]

And with a flash he was gone, just as quickly as he’d came.

Divider by @v6que !

#florence writes!!#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #atsv x reader #atsv imagine #miguel o'hara fic

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pughswoman · 1 year

Text

Her Gaze ⭐

Prompt: Flo cannot stop staring at you in an interview together. What do you do about it after the interview??

Warnings: smut again... making out, lap grinding (flo to reader), thigh riding (flo to reader)

(fluff at the end!)

Word count: 1K

Florence couldn't stop staring. She was admiring every single one of your features. Although the look on her face was serious to others, you could see in your peripheral vision that Flo's eyes were anything but innocent.

The normal green in her eyes has dimmed to a darker moss colour and her pupils have dilated.

You tried avoiding eye contact with her, but you just couldn't resist. The way she looks at you drives you insane and you have to hold back biting your lip when your soft eyes meet her devilish ones.

Her eyes slowly reach down to your hands, acknowledging every vein and watching how your fingers move as you fidget.

Carefully her eyes ascend back up your body onto your face again.

Her eyes rest on your lips and she watches as your tongue pokes out to wet them.

Florence has to hold back a moan simply by watching as she imagines everything you can do with that mouth and those hands... god those hands.

'Florence?' She's pulled out of her gaze as someone seems to be calling her name.

She then remembers she's in fact still in public and is on camera.

'Sorry, yes?' She replies turning to the voice.

The interviewer laughs at Flo's confusion and she hears you chuckle beside her, quickly earning an elbow in the stomach, and you groan.

Finally, the interview ends and you and Florence make your way back to the makeup room, closing and locking the door before anyone can disturb you.

'You're going to drive me crazy with the way you look at me,' You say.

'Oh? Is that right, baby?' She husks as she walks slowly toward you, causing you to pull her to you desperately.

She gasps in surprise and you take that as an opportunity to join your lips together.

Very briskly, the kiss becomes very heated and Flo's hands are not only pulling at your hair, but is also running her hands through it as you begin to kiss down her neck.

Florence is panting heavily and you're unbuttoning the top she was wearing for the interview.

Thankfully the microphones you had attached had been disconnected and taken off the second you got off stage.

You continue your way down Florence's body and as soon as her top is detached from her, you leave kisses everywhere you can to let her know she is appreciated.

As a reaction, Florence grinds herself into you as her hands caress over your back and into your hair again.

You bring both yourself and Florence over to the make up chair and sit down, letting Florence perch on your lap.

You smirk as you continue your actions and lift your head to her chest, taking her now hard nipple into your mouth causing Florence to arch her back into you as her jaw drops and she lets out a raspy moan.

This only boosts your ego and you move onto her other nipple, letting it receive the same attention as your tongue swirls around it.

You tease her for the next few minutes and allow her to mindlessly grind against your still clothed skin. You think she could cum just by the way she's reacting to it.

This gives you an idea.

'Baby,' You say, but she doesn't hear you, too lost in the pleasure.

You place your hands on her thighs, immediately halting her movements, which causes her to whimper.

'Get off on my thigh, honey,' You whisper, looking into her doe eyes.

She whimpers again but doesn't move, knowing she wants you to do it for her.

'Do I have permission to take these off, sweetheart?' You ask softly, referring to her pants and underwear.

'Yes,' She responds quickly, her voice almost whiny.

You teasingly remove the clothing and Florence stays quiet so that you don't stop altogether.

The cool air reaches her wetness once the clothing is off and Florence's breath hitches at the feeling.

Gently you grab her by the waist and pull her onto your thigh and as soon as her warm pussy touches your leg, she instinctively clenches around nothing.

Slowly, with your support, she begins rocking back and forth, beads of sweat starting to form over her skin.

As Florence consumes the pleasure, her head tilts back, easily giving you access to her neck to which you attack with small love bites.

Florence's mouth falls open as the sounds of her pretty moans spill out and her rocking speeds up.

The motion is the perfect friction for her clit as she grinds more pressure onto it.

In only a couple of minutes, Florence's legs start to tremble and she is desperately gripping your shoulders, digging her nails into your skin.

Her head is now over your shoulder as her moans and gasps fill your ears.

'Please... Please, baby. Can I cum? I need to cum so bad,' She whines.

You're both lucky the make up room is soundproof.

'Hold it, sweetheart,' You say.

'I-I can't,' She moans.

'You can and you will,'

Florence shakes her head as more quicker moans fall past her lips - until her body comes to a still and you feel her legs shaking.

She clenches around your thigh and arches her back, a long moan escaping as she collapses against you.

Except - you don't let her stop.

In fact, you keep going until she's cum at least four times.

'You okay, honey?' You ask her softly as if you didn't just ruin her.

'Mhm. Tired,' She mumbles.

'I'll take care of you don't worry,' You say as you place a peck on her lips and delicately sit her on the make up chair while you go to the bathroom and grab a cloth, wetting it with warm water and making your way back to Florence.

You lightly clean her up and Florence flinches at the feeling as she's still sensitive.

'It's okay, sweetheart. I'm almost done,' You say as you clean up the leftover cum on her thighs.

After you had dressed her into more comfortable clothing (your jumper that is too big for her and a fresh pair of underwear) you tenderly pick her up and place yourself onto the chair, letting her sit sideways across you, her head falling into your chest.

Almost instantly, soft snores tumble from her lips as you rub soft circles on her hand as you hold it.

Your other hand brushes through her hair and down to her back as you draw random scribbles with your fingers gently.

Lastly, you place a kiss on her head as you join the deep slumber.

#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh smut #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh fic #florence pugh x you #florence pugh imagine

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tendousatori · 24 days

Text

blood sticks, sweat drips

#narilamb #cotl narinder #cotl lamb #cotl fanart #cult of the lamb #scene (kinda) from fic i am drafting #thank you florence

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hsunrry · 13 days

Text

love triangle // one shot harry styles

harry styles x fem!reader x florence pugh

summary: based on @umadirectioner request.

words: ~1k

warnings: smut18+, threesome (2f,1m), oral (m and f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cumshot, masturbation, cum play

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“where is he?” you groaned, looking at Florence. she was making dinner for the three of you.

“babe, you know he’s working.” she smiled, looking at the pasta she was making. you approached her from behind, hugging her. you kissed her neck few times. “you’re distracting me.” she chuckled, tilting her head slightly to the side, to give you better access. you smiled against her skin, sucking on her favorite spot. she moaned quietly. your hands caressing her waist. “he’ll be hungry, i have to finish this before we do anything.”

“knowing him, he will be hungry for us, not this dinner.” you chuckled, hearing the front doors cracking. he walked into open-concept kitchen, looking at you and her.

“my two favorite ladies.” he smiled, approaching you. he kissed your lips and then hers. “smells delicious.” he licked his lips slightly, looking at pasta.

“it’ll be ready in 10 minutes.” she said, going back to cooking.

“i’ll prepare table.” you grabbed plates and cutlery. after you all ate, you went to sit on the couch. Harry sat between you and Florence. “how was work, baby?”

“as always.” he sigh, leaning back on the couch. he closed his eyes. you and she looked at each other knowingly. you started unbuttoning his shirt.

“how about you relax a little?” you smiled. he opened his eyes, looking at you and then at her. she kneeled down in front of him, unzipping his jeans. he took off his shirt when you unbuttoned it. he stood up, taking off his jeans and boxers. he sat back down, with his already hard dick laying against his stomach. you bent down to suck him and Florence started massaging, lick and suck on his balls.

“fuck.” he moaned, placing his one hand on her head and one into your hair. you both were talented and know exactly what he likes, but from talking to each other, you all knew that he prefer you sucking his cock like that. you were moving up and down faster with each second with your head, giving him exactly what he needs. “jesus, yes.” he gasped, tilting his head back. she started stroking the part where you didn’t reach with your mouth, while still sucking on his balls. he groaned. “i’m so fucking close, my pretty girls.” you moaned around him, sucking even harder. his back arched slightly, when his dick started throbbing inside your mouth, filling it. he let out broken moan. you let go of him, gripping Florence’s chin. she opened her mouth, waiting for you to share. you leaned down to her face, filling her mouth with half of what you had inside yours. “holy fuck.” he panted, looking at both of you. you both swallowed, kissing each other for few seconds. he licked his lips, still breathless. you started taking off her dress, leaving her only in underwear. he started stroking himself at the sight of you both. she took off your dress as well, leaving you only in your panties, since you didn’t had bra on yourself. her lips wrapped around your nipple, making you moan quietly. you took off her bra in meantime. “i need you both, now.” he spoke, still stroking himself slowly. you and Florence stood up. you all went to shared bedroom and he laid down on his back. she went to ride him, while you went to sit on his face. he moaned into your core, when he felt her lowering herself down on his dick. she started moving on him quickly. you both knew he’s gonna fuck you both without coming, since you sucked him off earlier. he gripped your thighs, licking your clit. she started squeezing your breast, moving on him faster. you moaned, feeling your orgasm already approaching.

“oh my fucking goodness.” you gasped, hearing her moaning behind you. he started pounding into her to meet her movements, licking you through it. after few seconds you moaned and your legs started shaking when you finished. he licked you through it and when you calmed down you got off his face. you leaned down to peck his lips. you watched them for few seconds, looking at her coming. she got off him, laying down in front of you. you smiled, going at your hands and knees. he kneeled behind you, sliding into your entrance with a groan. you gripped sheets, leaning down to lick her pussy. she putted her hand into your hair when you started sucking on her clit. Harry gripped your hips, moving in and out at fast pace. you moaned into her core, causing her gasp. you started fingering her, while working with your mouth as well. you curled your fingers in perfect angle, knowing she’ll come fast like that. you weren’t wrong, because after few thrusts of your digits she came around them, gripping your hair tighter. he was panting, fucking you fast from behind. she sat on the bed to watch, breathing slightly heavier after her own recent release.

“fuck, i’m close.” he groaned, going with his hand to your clit and rubbing it. you moaned loudly, feeling almost overwhelmed.

“yes!” you gripped sheets tightly while coming around his dick. he fucked you through it, pulling out right after. you and Florence kneeled down in front of him, watching him stroking himself fast. he groaned, spilling his cum on your boobs and hers. you licked her clean from his release and she did the same with you. all three of you collapsed on the bed, with him in the middle. he wrapped one arm around you and one around her.

“i love you both so much.”

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yelenaslyubov · 3 months

Text

You’re Mine

main masterlist || yelena belova || requests

requested anonymously

a/n: here i am finally with another story!! i’m sorry it took so long, i’ve been going through it a bit and trying to find motivation again. this definitely isn’t my best work, but nonetheless, i hope you enjoy :)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: yelena belova x fem!reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: MINORS DNI (18+) smut, language, daddy kink, alcohol, reader receiving, jealousy

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: it is New Year’s Eve, and of course the one and only Tony Stark does not miss a chance to impress with a party. you attend this party under the impression it would be just like every other event, but you are soon proved wrong after you make a mistake to talk to Kate Bishop. your girlfriend sees your encounter from afar and chooses to deal with your wrongdoing in her own way… but do you learn your lesson?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 2k

You watched the numbers increase on the small screen above you. The elevator whirled up an extensive amount of floors and you could hear music and voices getting louder as you reached the top. To top it off, you had to listen to lousy jazz music all the way up.

The elevator jolted to a stop and the noise right outside of the doors indicated the size of the group waiting on the other side.

You inhaled deeply and adjusted your clothing nervously. This was the last party of the season and you were all but happy. Parties and holidays brought out the worst in Yelena and you were ready for them to be over. Parties in particular were a sore spot and she had been acting childish as of lately.

She was easily irritated, didn’t engage in conversation much, wanting to leave early, and most importantly—her jealousy was through the roof.

Recently there were new recruits who have been hanging around more and getting to know everyone. Yelena isn’t the friendly type, especially when it comes to other people talking to you. Of course, you were simply trying to be nice while Yelena thought of it as a threat.

You assumed tonight would be no different.

As the elevator doors eased open the sounds were almost deafening. You couldn’t tell if everyone’s voices or the music was louder, either way you had a difficult time adjusting from the tiresome elevator tunes.

You should’ve known that New Year’s Eve would be a hit at the Avengers Tower, but somehow you thought everyone would be down in Time Square observing the annual ball drop. It was only an hour until midnight so there was still time.

“Hey… y/n!”

You see a hand waving through the crowd but can’t quite make out who it is.

From in between two individuals, Peter emerges panting. “Hey! I was trying to get your attention, but it’s kinda hard with all these people.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Hey, Pete. How long have you been up here?”

“Well if you’re talking about how long I’ve been up here at the party, it’s been about 2 hours…if you’re talking about how long I’ve been up here in general…all day.”

“Peter, why on earth have you been up here all day?”

He scratches the back of his neck. “You see, Sam said—”

“That’s all I need to know,” you stopped Peter. “Anyway, have you seen Yelena around here at all?”

“Last time I saw her she was over by the bar.”

You tried to see over the mass of people crammed into the room, but it was no luck.

“Damn, there’s too many people to tell. Thanks anyways, Pete.”

You slithered past sweaty bodies to make your way over to the bar in hopes of finding Yelena there. Even after all that work, Yelena was nowhere near the bar, but there was another friendly face waiting there.

“Hey, Kate,” you greeted her.

Kate smiled back with warm cheeks. “What’s up!”

“Not much,” you responded while sitting down on the stool next to her, “just enjoying another party.”

“You sound entirely enthusiastic about it, I can see,” Kate says.

“Oh yeah, I just live for these parties. I’m definitely not tired of them after the last 5 we’ve had.”

“I’m going to agree with you on that.”

You asked the bartender for a drink to pass the time as you sat with Kate.

“How have you been liking the tower?” you asked Kate as you sipped your drink.

“It’s definitely a change of pace. Working independently out on the field versus being here with the Avengers… it’s wicked cool!” Her excitement makes you smile, remembering the time when you first were recruited.

“Don’t get too excited, sometimes you miss working alone,” you chuckle.

There was an awkward silence after your last comment, which made you think that Kate might take it the wrong way. “Don’t get me wrong, I love working in teams, but sometimes independent work helps clear your mind.”

“Makes sense… does that have anything to do with Yelena?”

You jolt your head up. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, for one, Yelena is usually the only one you go out on missions with, and two, she’s staring at you like you killed Fanny.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as you turn to face the horror Kate warned you about. Kate wasn’t exaggerating. Yelena looked as if you had just committed the crime of the century.

“Is everything alright between the two of you?” Kate asked, apprehensively.

Your eyes never left Yelena while talking to Kate. “I’m not too sure now…I’m going to have to catch up with you later.”

You left Kate at the bar as you made your way over to Yelena’s watching eyes. The closer you got to her, the more your nerves overcame you. You weren’t sure what her problem was or what you did, and you didn’t want to suffer through the consequences of her anger—especially not tonight.

You were facing her now up close, letting the music pound into your eardrums while she slowly sipped on her drink. “Fun party, right?” Yelena yelled.

“Not really.” You stared at her once again, hoping she might elaborate on her previous death stare.

“No? Hmm, that’s too bad, I’m having a great-”

“Yelena, cut the act.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

“I don’t know anything.” She smirked, but not the good kind of smirk. It was the kind of smirk where you know you had either fucked up or she did something awful.

“What did you do?” you asked.

“I didn’t do anything.” Her emphasis gave you all the clues you needed.

“Then what did I do?”

Yelena didn’t answer. She kept standing there taking small, occasional sips of her drink, almost as if the conversation was just as meaningless as the party.

“Yelena, I’m not doing this here.”

“Well, then let’s find somewhere else to do it then.”

You didn’t like her attitude at all, but you also didn’t want to leave the conversation unfinished. You looked around behind Yelena to see one of the many hallways they could sneak off to. You grabbed Yelena’s hand and pulled her down the hallway into a room.

“Is this satisfactory for you?” you asked, matching her attitude.

Yelena looked around the closet you managed to find. “It’s a bit small, but-”

“Oh, would you stop it!”

“No!” Yelena placed her hand firmly around your neck, slamming you against the closet door. “You stop it!”

You looked at her in shock. This wasn’t to say that this gesture was out of the ordinary from Yelena, but it was her ability to shut down so quickly that took you by surprise.

“You’ve been acting like a little slut lately,” she sternly said. Yelena could tell you were confused by her accusation. “Aw, you need help remembering how you embarrassed daddy?”

You tried to move your head forward to release Yelena’s right grip from your neck. “Yelena-” you started, but your head was pressed against the door once again.

“Don’t you know you don’t get to talk to other girls?” She moved her lips closer to your ear. “Don’t you know you’re mine, baby?” she whispered so delicately into your ear, your hair standing on edge.

Kate.

Yelena must have seen the realization written all over your face. You had been cutting it up with Kate while you were waiting to find Yelena. Little did you know, Yelena had been observing the two of you for a short time.

“Yelena, it’s not what it looks like,” you whispered.

“Oh, it’s not? Because it looked like you were interested in messing around with someone else, hmm?”

“No, that's not-”

“Ah ah,” she tuts. “I don’t want to hear excuses, baby…prove it to me.”

Your chest tightened. “Prove… what?”

Yelena smirked at you while her hand traced down the front of your frame. Her fingers ever so delicately slipped under the band of your pants.

“Yelena…” You could tell there was no stopping her from what she aimed to get from you.

“I want you,” she started, pausing while pushing her fingers past the barrier of your underwear, “to prove I’m yours.”

You were eye to eye now. Yelena’s eyes hung lazily with lust and revenge. She wanted to make you squirm… make you pay for how you made her feel.

She started rubbing gently against your clit, just enough to tease you. “Say it… ‘I’m yours.’”

“Yelena, please…”

“Say it!” she said, getting impatient. Her mouth was brushing against your ear, her breath hot against your skin. She bit your ear gently, hoping that you would make any kind of noise to grab her attention.

“I-I’m yours,” you whispered.

“That’s not loud enough, I can’t hear you.” With her words she picked up pace.

“I’m yours,” you moaned. You grabbed onto the wall in preparation for your legs to give out very soon. You even found yourself moving your hips against Yelena’s hand, your body craving her touch even more.

But you were angry with her. You were angry that Yelena was angry over nothing. This wasn’t unusual, which was the frustrating part, but you couldn’t help but drown in pleasure. Though it wasn’t Yelena’s intention to put you in a better mood, it was working either way.

“Such a good girl riding my fingers for me, but I want you to keep going. You can’t cum until I tell you to, baby.” The more she edged you on it only made you come closer to the edge.

In addition, you suddenly became aware of how loud you were being. You gained consciousness and were afraid everyone could hear you.

What if they notice you’re gone? What if they heard you? Or worse… What if they find you?

Your brain began scrambling. You couldn’t focus on the present, only what lies beyond the small closet the two of you were tucked behind.

Yelena could tell you were antsy, which only caused her more grief. Her other hand that was placed firmly on your hip tightened. She was keeping you in place so there was nowhere for you to run.

“I didn’t tell you to stop; keep talking,” she demanded. “I want you to scream my name loud enough to forget hers.”

The anger you were feeling started to melt away into only an ecstasy of pleasure. You couldn’t resist the way she felt against you, and you couldn’t possibly turn her away now.

“I’m yours,” you responded for her.

“That’s a good girl, but you’re going to need to be louder if you really mean it.”

“I’m yours!”

“There you go, pretty girl. I knew you could do it.” Her words went straight to your head, sending you farther into a daze. Your previous fear of your closet endeavors being seen had faded away, now all that was left was you and Yelena.

“You getting close, baby?”

She knew you so well. Your legs were quivering, your breathing was erratic, and your nails were digging deeper into the back of Yelena’s neck.

“I know you’re so close, but I need to hear you,” she begged of you.

“Please, Yelena,” you whined. “I’ll be good.”

“Aw, will you baby? Have you learned your lesson?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then show me…cum baby.”

“Oh, Yelena!”

You came undone per her command. You tried to cover your mouth to muffle the sounds that could be heard outside the door, but Yelena quickly swatted your hand away. She wanted everyone to know you were hers.

After you calmed down, you tried your best to support yourself on your weak legs. You opened your eyes to meet Yelena’s piercing stare. You definitely felt better but you could tell that Yelena wasn’t completely satisfied.

You had lost track of time until you heard the large crowd outside the door counting down to midnight. Of course you expected a kiss from Yelena for the occasion, but instead you watched her wipe her fingers on her pants and head out of the door.

You were suddenly left alone as the celebration outside continued. You leaned against the door and slid down until you reached the bottom. As you sat there, you wondered what possible lesson Yelena could be teaching you by leaving you alone at the top of the New Year.

i hope you enjoyed!

☞ join my taglist

#marvel #yelena belova #florence pugh #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova fic #yelena belova fluff #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x fem!reader #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova smut #yelena belova x gn!reader #yelena belova au #my writing

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ficsandgiggles · 5 months

Text

How to Win A Tickle Fight (Scarlett Johannson x Florence Pugh x Reader)

Authors Note: this was so fun to write, thank you so much @marinasmarvel for the adorable prompt, I hope you enjoy it 💞

Word count: 1181

Warnings: Cute as fuck

“Hey everyone, welcome back to my channel! Now as you know I am a huge fan of Marvel, and I’ve wanted to try and get some of their incredibly talented cast members on here. Well, today is the day, I am unbelievably honoured to introduce the amazing Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova!”

Scarlett and Florence both slid into view, sandwiching you in between them. You still couldn’t believe this was happening. Your humble self didn’t think that your channel was anywhere big enough to ever get to this point. Yes, you had a few million subscribers, but so did hundreds, if not thousands of other people.

When Florence reached out to you, saying she loved your content and your creative theories, she was eager to be a guest on your channel, so the two of you arranged a date and time for her to come to your place. It was only a couple of days before when she casually said that Scarlett would be joining as the two of them had been hanging out. She wanted to keep it a surprise but blurted it out as she was too excited to hide it from you.

The three of you hung out for a little bit before you started filming, you explained how this could take a bit of time as you had received an overwhelming amount of questions and you’d have to cut out some of the answers, but it was best to cover bases.

Throughout this time, Scarlett and Flo were physically close, occasionally poking sensitive spots if one of them got distracted, you couldn’t help but blush. You purposely chose a question where they asked the two actresses to expand on what specific trust exercises the two did and, more specifically how to win a tickle fight, as it was obvious the two of them got into a lot of them on set.

Even before you started filming, the two were bickering and poking each other, you just rolled your eyes, but there was a small part of you that was jealous, you had watched too many times to count the interviews where Flo would talk about their playful fights and attacks whilst they were filming.

They didn’t know about your upcoming question though, and you were so excited to ask it.

The questions started flowing, they ranged from their favourite on-set snack to their favourite Outset product (of course, Scarlett put a lot of playful pressure on Florence)

Eventually, you decided to drop the question on them.

“So the two of you got up to a lot of mischief during your time filming Black Widow, and a very interesting question was asked someone. What is the best way to win a tickle fight?” You asked with a grin, looking in between the pair. Scarlett looked at you with raised eyebrows, she was a little suspicious that you seemed more than excited to ask that question but didn’t push it for how.

“A surprise attack!” Florence announced and launched behind you to dig into Scarlett’s armpits, making her squeal and slam her arms down against her sides, cackling with giggles.

“FLOHOHO!” She laughed and pushed her away whilst leaning away herself, making the younger actress laugh fondly and move back to where she was sitting.

“Well first of all, you need to get an overly sensitive person.” She said and stared at Florence, who gasped and put her hand on her heart, pretending to be offended.

“I am not that sensitive!” She said, shaking her head. “You just have to find a sensitive spot, like everywhere on Scarlett.”

The two of them bickered for a little bit, you’d jump in with the occasional comment but all in all felt a little bit left out, you enjoyed the gossip of what happened behind the scenes but sometimes you felt like you weren’t in the room with them.

“Or if you’re two against one, you can just do this!” Scarlett suddenly announced and pounced on you to dig into your ribs, causing you to yelp and fall back towards Florence, who pinned your arms above your head with a cheeky smile as she looked down at you. “Hello.” She said casually.

“Nonono, help!” You squealed out, pulling at your hands as you already began giggling nervously, Scarlett looked at the camera briefly before looking back at you.

“I don’t think a camera can help you.” She grinned and already began skittering her fingers all over your sides and belly, as Florence wiggled a single finger under one of your arms as she held them up.

“Guys!” You squealed out, immediately breaking into giggles as you kicked and squirmed about, you couldn’t quite process what was going on just yet but I wasn’t complaining too much, this was a dream come true.

“Hey, you should do what I do to break you,” Scarlett suggested to Florence with a cheeky smile, but Florence simply returned the cheeky smile and stopped your armpit torture, making the other actress roll her eyes and reach over to squeeze rapidly into her side, making her cackle and then drill her thumb into your armpit.

“So I guess you have to experiment with every spot until you find the one that makes them crack,” Florence said casually as Scarlett moved to shake your ribs, making you cackle and arch your back. “That’s a good example.” Florence teased with a fond giggle as you whined in response.

“I'm right here!” You squealed between fits of giggles, shaking my head as you tried to kick out.

“Hm, another thing we used to do is raspberries, like all the time,” Florence added with a smirk as Scarlett grinned, watching as Flo leaned down towards your neck. “Oh, that’s cruel.” She told Florence before the young actress blew a huge raspberry on your neck.

“FUHUHUHUCK!” You screeched with laughter, kicking and shaking your head as Scarlett shook into your belly. “No swearing, Y/N! You may get demonetised!” Florence giggled along with you but noticed your laughter go silent and let you go.

Scarlett pulled you into a hug and turned to face the camera. “And that, lovely audience, is how you win a tickle fight.” She announced proudly as Florence joined in with the hug, sandwiching you into a cuddle between them.

“Thank you for watching everyone and we hope you have taken in some valuable lessons from this to wreck others if you need to. Say goodbye, Y/N before we wreck you again off-camera!” Florence grinned enthusiastically and squeezed your side to prompt you.

You blushed madly, looking into the lens of your camera. “Enjoy making edits and memes of this, I’ll see you in the next video…” you murmured, all flustered and shy.

Scarlett reached and turned the camera off, smiling fondly at you. “I think it’s time for a real tickle fight now.” She grinned, as she and Florence dragged you to your bed, you took in their lessons and you had a fun and fair tickle fight, and it was one of the best moments of your life.

#avengers tickle #avengers tickle fic #marvel tickle #marvel tickle fic #ticklish!reader #mcu tickle #mcu tickle fic #ler!scarlett #ler!florence

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fkinavocado · 5 months

Text

Don't Worry Darling (SPIN-OFF)

a very indulgent exploration of what could've, should've been...

Warning: 18+, smut, dark themes of oppression, patriarchal bullshit and toxic manipulation, abuse and control. having watched the movie is a must i'm afraid. in no shape or form am i trying to "outsmart" the movie, this is just a spin-off!

Status: ongoing, miniseries

Masterlist

Part One

#dwd #don't worry darling #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #jack chambers #florence pugh

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littlexscarletxwitch · 8 months

Note

Hi, would you be able to do a mutual pining yelena x avenger!reader kinda thing where yelena has been ignoring reader because she doesn’t know to how to deal with her feelings and when reader confronts her, yelena admits that she likes her? Mainly angst with fluff at the end if possible. Love your fics!!

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗶 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂

paring: yelena belova x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, some angst, mutual pinning, nat being the big sis

warning(s): yel having a hard time admitting her feelings, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.8k

note: Soooooo sorry it took me soooo long to post this. I FUCKING LOVED THIS REQUEST btw. Also guys, it's taking me so long to post fic because a) my laptop is just a bitch and won't work, and b) I guess I'm going through a writer's block and it's kinda hard to find the motivation to write. But I'll try my best. Lots of love, M <3

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

Your legs were sore, you couldn't feel your arms anymore and you were gasping for air, but it wasn’t over until one of you was down.

“Can’t we take a break?” you whined out as you tried dodging Yelena’s fist but still made contact with your body and you groaned out in pain.

“Focus, Y/n,” Steve called out, before Yelena would punch again.

You knew she was holding back, measuring her strength, she always would when training with you. And you didn’t know if you found that reassuring or mocking. You kicked her in the stomach, but it still did not affect her, it was quite the opposite really.

“That’s all you got?”

“Why? Wanna try something else?” you teasingly said while winking at her.

You got her off guard, she wasn’t expecting your cocky self to show up while training, and seized the moment to swift her off her feet and got on top of her.

“Was this what you had in mind?”

Your hands quickly found her wrists while your body pressed into her abdomen pushing her down so she wouldn’t get out of your hold.

“Okay, I think it’s enough,” Steve called out, sensing you had gone off track.

Both you and Yelena knew that she could easily get out of your hold, but still it took her two minutes to do so. You didn’t want to let her go that easily, you felt your whole body burning just by the thought of her skin against yours, still you stood up and got on moving before the two of you could have a say on what just had happened.

That was how it always went with Yelena, one moment you had the courage to openly flirt with her and a second later you would run back to your dorm second guessing the whole interaction. You wanted to do more, each and every time, but she was so nonchalant about you flirting with her that you convinced yourself that it was just that, a flirty friendship.

And most of the time you were okay with it, playing dumb about your own feelings. But then shit like that would happen, you would brush her skin, or would make her laugh, or just look at her, and the thought of a friendship would fly out of your mind. That was why you would lock up in your room, trying to calm and persuade yourself to not let your stupid feelings get in the way.

And the same stupid thing would happen to Yelena, which you didn’t know about.

“You want to talk about it?” Yelena heard her sister's voice as she watched you heading out the training room.

“I wasn’t holding back, I swear.”

“Not about your punching,” she raised her brow at her little sister.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yelena shrugged it off as she grabbed her bottle of water and took a big sip.

“Lena, I know you,” Natasha took advantage of the fact that her sister was chugging down water. “I know we don’t do feelings, we don’t trust people. But that was the old us, that was the red room. We have to put that shitty part of our lives behind us for good.”

“And I have,” Yelena scoffed.

“Then why haven't you done something about it?” Yelena knew her sister meant you, she didn’t have to clarify. “At least, give it a go,” Natasha sighed. “If not for you, then for her.”

“She doesn’t—.”

“You never know, Lena. Neither will she, if you don’t tell her,” and with that Natasha left her sister to her own thoughts.

“Suka,” she mumbled under her breath, because Natasha was right. She was always right about everything, it was the power that came with being a big sister—her big sister—, and she hated it when she was right.

She knew she had to do something about it, about you. But the fear of rejection, of feeling unwanted felt too much to bear. She wasn’t going to open up her heart just for someone else to crush it. But maybe, just maybe she could trust you not to crush it.

[...]

Still, it was easier said than done. It took her a full week to finally come to the conclusion that she was, actually, madly in love with you. A week full of stress and anxiety because deep down she felt like she didn’t deserve to have these feelings towards you.

And now that she knew exactly how she felt about you, it fucking terrified her. So she did what she thought was best and put some space in between the two of you. The thought of you clouded her brain and it was starting to affect her line of work, and she couldn’t have that. Being part of the avengers gave her life meaning, and she was not going to let her stupid feelings ruin that for her. Even though she wanted to be close to you, and just melt into your arms.

Of course, her coldness didn’t go unnoticed by you. You were confused, though. It wasn’t like Yelena to just shut you out. Even though you wanted more than just a friendship out of her, you wanted to consider yourself a friend of hers and it hurt that she was just avoiding you.

You didn’t know what was going on, she just felt out of your reach. You asked her sister about it, she just told you to give her space and she would be okay, before muttering something under her breath and went on with her day. You asked Kate and she just completely avoided the topic and changed the subject.

The more she didn’t talk to you, not even glance at your direction, the more you felt like you had done something wrong, maybe she had found out about your feelings and now she was avoiding you because of them. She probably felt uncomfortable about them, she probably wanted nothing to do with you. And who were you to decide otherwise?

You talked to Steve, making sure to not have more training lessons with her, only to find out she had already asked the same thing. You knew it was stupid to feel as if your heart was breaking since you wanted the same thing, but it did feel like shattering to pieces. You just nodded, a tight smile finding its way to your lips and went to your room before shedding any tears.

This whole thing was bullshit. Yes, maybe she didn’t feel the same way you did about her. But the both of you were full grown-ups, you should be professional about it and act like nothing had happened. Because in reality it didn’t, not that you were aware of it. So you decided that you were going to give her a piece of your mind.

You searched for her throughout the entire building and finally found her in the training room. Of course she was there, you should have thought of coming there earlier.

For a trained assassin she didn’t notice your presence, too caught up in her own mind, focusing on her breathing and throwing punches at the boxing bag.

You cleared your throat. “Got a minute?”

She looked over her shoulder, finally acknowledging you there, and you swore you watched as her whole body just tensed up by the sound of your voice.

“I’m kinda busy right now,” she mumbled before throwing two more punches.

“It won’t take long,” you insisted, wanting to get this over with.

“Look, I really need to—.”

You cut her off. “I don’t know who told you or how you found out, but yes, it’s true, okay?” you finally got her attention. “I just thought you would be professional enough to not let this get in the way and pretend like nothing happened. Which is what I also wish for.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You avoiding me,” you quickly mumbled, a tint of concussion in your tone. “I get it, but let’s just put this behind us and act like propper adults.”

“No, I’m aware of that part,” she scoffed, embarrassed to admit to you what she had been up to. “What I mean is, what have I found out?”

Your brows furrowed. “About my… me… and you,” you gave yourself a second to think her words through. “Hold on a second, you don’t know?”

“What don’t I know?”

“You don’t,” you finally added two plus two and realised that Yelena had no recollection whatsoever about your feelings, but still something was off. “Why have you been avoiding me then?”

You watched her as her mouth opened and closed, searching for the right words.

“What did I ever do to you for you to completely avoid me, huh?”

“You did nothing, I just…”

“You just what?” you scoffed, now anger filling your tone. “You just decided it was fun to ignore me?”

“No! God, no.”

“Then what is it?!” the two of you were pretty much screaming at each other.

“Because I like you, damn it!” she finally confessed. “Is it so hard to see?”

Your eyes winded. “You like me? You have been avoiding me because you like me?”

“I know, not my brightest moment. But it's just that you… you just…” she gestured to her brain. “You’re just stuck here, and I can’t get you out. At first I was scared to admit my own feelings to myself,” she took a deep breath. “But then Tasha said something and it made me realise that there’s nothing wrong with having feelings. But then I had to admit to myself that I really fucking like you. And I just… I just got scared because you might not feel the same way, and you might just push me away,” another deep breath. “And I decided that I would push you away first… and so I did.”

“So you like me.”

“Yes,” her brows furrowed. “Was that all you got?”

“I mean… it’s the part that matters most,” you grinned at her.

“What do you mean?”

“I really fucking like you too,” you said cupping her cheeks. “I thought you knew and that was why you were avoiding me. But now I get it, I make you nervous,” you said teasingly.

“I wouldn’t use that word…” you rolled your eyes before shutting her off with your lips, finally giving in and kissing her.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” you whispered over her lips as you deepened the kiss.

Her lips were soft and rough, and they had some saltiness to them due to her being all sweaty. But you didn’t mind at all, in fact you really like it.

“Remember last time we were here?” you whispered in her ear, trailing a path of kiss down her jaw and neck.

“You mean… that time we last trained?” she sounded breathlessly and it sent a shiver down your whole body.

“If I remember correctly, which I know I do…” you gently bit her skin earning a hiss out of her lips. “You were on the grown and I was on top of you, remember?”

“Yes…” she said as her fingers ran through your hair.

“Want to pick up where we left it off?”

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

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

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sadesluvr · 9 months

Text

Opposites Attract

You’re a self-obsessed sorority girl. He’s an enigmatic film freak. What more is there to say? (Mickey Altieri x Reader)

A/N: My first full Mickey fic! It’s loosely based off of my headcanons (linked HERE), but ofc it's not necessary to read first :) I LOVE him and this has been in the works for a while, so I hope you enjoy it! He is Ghostface in this, but it's only alluded to…

Word count: 2.7K

Tags: SMUT / Enemies to lovers / Oral sex, fem receiving / Flirting + Sexual tension / Safe sex! / Doggystyle / Spanking / Light choking + Asphyxiation / Allusions to murder / Relationship goals, kinda

You and Mickey Altieri couldn’t have been more different. He was a ‘Tarantino obsessed film freak’ from a seemingly regular (if not a little shady) background with a small group of friends. You, on the other hand, were a peppy architecture student; one of the top girls in your sorority from a rich family with a lawyer father.

In theory, nothing about the two of you should work - Mickey thought that ‘people like you’ were phoney and self-obsessed, whilst guys like Mickey were essentially ‘nothing but trouble’. Still, it didn’t stop the two of you from being ‘frenemies’, even to the point of culminating in a secret relationship.

Even though you absolutely despised each other, there was something intoxicating about how you’d bicker; how Mickey would roll his eyes and smirk whilst you would get frustrated and brush him off, annoyed yet giddy on how you got under each other's skin.

This was one of those times.

You’d smuggled Mickey into your room as the two of you were off to join your respective friends at a party. He claimed he ‘hated’ being around posters of boy bands and unnecessary anthropomorphic stuffed toys, but there was something in his intense, greedy stare as he watched you preen and accessorise that told you otherwise. Of course you knew he wanted you. You wanted him too, but you refused to give him anymore gratification outside of that one night —

“Pink is so not your colour,” he scoffed, shaking his head as you fixed your bolero.

“Unfortunately for you, Mickey, I don’t care about your opinion,” you said sweetly, and you could hear him mutter under his breath. You always loved to get the last word.

“I prefer the baby blue,” he continued. “It brings out the pearls,”

You shrugged him off, fixing the string of beads around your neck. Everyone in Windsor knew that pearls were your signature accessory; the fragile beads sat elegantly around the base of your neck year round, as if you were a regular Jackie-O. Mickey always teased you for wearing them (like he did with practically everything else), but he couldn’t deny how beautiful they looked on you. There was certainly something to be said in the contrast of you; the ‘righteous, innocent’ being, just like your necklace signified, being with him, a guy with a deep, dark pastime. He wondered what the pretty jewels would look like covered in blood; not necessarily yours (at first), staining the priceless material for good so that they were forever soiled. Your daddy would probably flip.

Good. He hated lawyers.

“…Why do you need to wear pearls anyway?” Mickey said, his voice low as he got up from where he was sitting, stalking over to join you at your dresser. “This is a college mixer, not Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” he finished, eyes locked on yours through the mirror as he stood behind you, his hands placed firmly on your waist as his fingertips threatened to travel elsewhere, likely towards your ass.

“Because they’re pretty,” you said quickly, gathering yourself as you pushed him off slightly, spinning to face him as you leaned against the surface. “Daddy got them for me on my sixteenth birthday. I love him…” you finished wistfully.

“You love the things he gives you,”

“No. I love him,” you insisted, rolling your eyes as you clipped in your earrings. “He’s a very hardworking man, putting freaks and freeloaders like you in jail,” you said pointedly.

Mickey scoffed.

“I’m a freak now, hm?” he mused, leaning over you. He was tall, and you could feel his breath on your neck, lips grazing the sensitive skin ever so slightly. “Then why are you with me?”

“Obviously due to some kind of terrible head trauma,”

Mickey rolled his eyes for what felt like the billionth time that night, instead focusing his attention on your neck; his canines brushing against your collarbone as he nipped at you, his love bites turning into soft kisses. You fought your hardest not to fall apart under his touch as he pulled you into him, hands exploring your waist and thighs as you felt his hardening cock against your ass. His cologne; though likely nothing more than retail store bought, was intoxicating, and you forced yourself not to lose yourself into his touch. There was just something about him that was insatiable…

It certainly helped that he was a little dangerous.

Sighing, you pushed him off you to face him yet again, fixing your clothes as you flashed him a sultry look.

“How do I look?”

He paused, eyes raking you up and down.

“...Like a girl with a stick up her ass and a cock in her mou —“

“Don’t say that!” You cut him off, slapping his chest lightly before you picked up your bag.

“What?” He snorted. “That ‘Daddy’s Little Princess’ facade doesn’t fool me. You’re a slut,”

“I am not!”

“Are too,” he retorted, following you like a chihuahua. “Don’t you remember that night at the Halloween party? You were in that slutty little cat costume and you were very generous to me under the stairs —“

There was a distinct smugness in his voice, and it took you right back to the hazy-liquor induced moment; from the sloppy kiss that had united the two of you, to the cool metal of his belt on your hands as you undid his trousers, and the salty taste of his cum as he held your head to his base. A beautiful moment, yes, but one you’d agreed to never speak of again.

“And here you are hoping for round two,” you sighed sarcastically, pouting your lips and patting his cheeks affectionately. “Give it up Mickey, it’s never gonna happen,”

“Your call, Princess,” he shrugged, walking to your door and beginning to open it. “Just try not to go all ‘Single White Female’ on me when one of your little sorority sisters wants it more,”

You froze. You never considered yourself to be the stereotypical jealous girl, but as a spoiled only child you were definitely not used to sharing. Katie Lewman was one of the girls in your sorority who you knew had a definitive crush on Mickey, and had even gone as far as trying (and possibly succeeding) to hook up with him. You knew she couldn’t compare to you in the slightest, but Mickey was definitely a player and would sleep with someone if he pleased…Or to get under your skin.

Mickey’s smirk was visible from the corner of your eye, and you slowly pushed the door back in, making sure it was locked.

You frowned.

“I hate you, you know that?”

Your lips were on each other’s in an instant, with Mickey pulling you in hungrily by your neck, barely giving you any time to breathe.

“I know…” he grumbled, voice broken as he came up for air. His gaze was focused intently on your lips, and his beautiful eyes made contact with your own, taking a moment to ogle your body.“ ‘Drives me crazy…”

Your hands found the sides of his slender waist, drawing him in closer so that you could feel his wanting cock against the thin material of your dress. Given that he wasn’t the typical ‘submissive’ guy, you were surprised when he teased you back, beginning to stumble back towards your bed.

Still kissing, you landed on top of him, and he wasted no time in assuming his position above you, hands pinned to either side of your body as he held your lower half in place with your own. He stopped and cocked his head at you, admiring the way your chest heaved and your eyes were wide. Apparently he could still surprise you.

Good to know.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as Mickey began to strip. It was undoubtedly a godly sight, but you hated the way he made your pussy ache and stomach flutter with the smallest of movements.

“Why do we keep doing this?” you whined, and he grinned, baring his teeth as he stalked over you, taking your jaw in between his hands as he angled your head to stare at him.

You always looked so pretty beneath him.

“I like the chase,” he uttered, and you began to make out once again, this time with you peeling off your bolero, and hiking up your dress so that it sat by your knees, unsure of how exactly he was going to take you. Mickey was a natural freak, and was always down to experiment when it came to sex…It was one of the many reasons why you liked him.

“Keep the dress on,” he whispered in your ear, nudging you so that you lay flat on your stomach. “Get that pretty ass in the air…” he finished, leaving a love bite on your neck before he pulled away, rubbing his hands along the curve of your spine, teasing you with what was to come.

SLAP! A red, stingy feeling ran through your lower half, legs peppering with goosebumps as the sensation settled in. Eyebrows furrowed, you gasped and turned to Mickey, who only gave you a shit-eating grin in response.

“Ass. Up.”

“You assho—“

SLAP!

“Ass. Up.” He repeated simply, staring at you knowingly. Glaring, you hiked your ass up in the air and he assumed the position behind you, pulling the material up over your thighs to rest on your waist. The thin material of your panties left your hot, aching cunt exposed to the cool air of the room, a sensation that was soon replaced with Mickey’s tongue.

He had quite literally buried his face in your ass; hands spreading your asscheeks apart as he delved into your folds, tongue lapping eagerly at your folds as he explored your pussy. You gasped, beginning to moan as you bunched the bedsheets up in your fists, subtly trying to fuck his face back, causing him to stick his face deeper into you.

You could practically see his smile from behind.

“Little Miss Sorority likes having her pussy eaten, hm? What would a girl like you know about giving?” he sneered, spreading your right cheek further and massaging the skin in his hands as the other remained firmly in position.

“S-Shut up —“ you whined, balancing yourself on one hand as you tried to pull him in, desperate for some release as he found your clit.

“Nuh-Uh, Princess,” he smirked, swatting your hand away. “You don’t get to touch me,”

You groaned and resumed your wringing of the sheets whilst Mickey revelled in your audible pleasure, adding to your stimulation as he stuck his middle and index finger inside you, beginning to move them in and out. Your juices coated him instantly, and he took a moment to lick them up, savouring the unique taste.

He had to have you.

Retracting his face from your privates, he smacked your ass again, admiring how it immediately warmed in his hands.

“…Why’d you stop?” you whined, pouting your lips.

“Because I’m gonna fuck you,” he responded, taking out his cock and stroking it languidly. It was just how you remembered; peachy with a good five and a half inches in length. “This is real life, Princess, we don’t always get everything we want…” he admonished, beginning to line himself up with your entrance. His tip teased your cunt, head smearing dots of precum along your lips, threatening to penetrate.

As much as you needed it, you couldn’t let him win.

“Speaking of not getting what we want…You better wrap your shit up,”

Mickey pulled away and scoffed, his shoulders slumping in annoyance.

“Come on, Princess…” he said knowingly. “You know it doesn’t feel the same…”

You hummed in amusement, beginning to push down your skirt and gather yourself together when you heard Mickey groan, a weight slowly lifting off of the bed as he made his way over to your dresser.

“You are such a spoiled brat,”

“Then come over here and teach me a lesson,”

He slid the condom on in a quick motion and made his way back over to the bed, grabbing your neck as he kissed you, arching your back in the process. The pressure pushed the pearls of your necklace deeper into your skin, a telling reminder of who you were. Social hierarchy may have technically been dead, but the Romeo and Juliet romance would forever thrive.

With a spank of your ass, he wasted no time in entering you from behind, barely giving you time to adjust. As he began to move, you heard him mumble to himself, hands holding onto your hips as he focused on daggering you, your tight walls stretching perfectly over his cock.

“What’d I say?” Mickey teased, another hand coming down on your ass as he watched your skin slap against his. “Doggystyle. Classic slutty position…What would Daddy think if he saw you now?”

“Fuck…” you whispered, grasping the edge of the bed as your legs tingled from the pressure and your back was being stretched out perfectly. Mickey always ran his mouth. Always. But he was so fucking good at it.

“M-Mick —-“

“That’s it, Princess. Say my name…I want the whole fucking house to hear—“ he growled, utterly feral at the way you moaned and whined for him, to the point of you being speechless. He ran his hands from the curve of your spine and up to the back of your neck, smirking to himself as he forced your face into the duvet, bringing your ass higher into the air.

His fingers played with your pearls, hooking them under his middle and index finger and tugging on them, causing the hard beads to press against your windpipe. He could’ve fucking choked you to death right there and then, and subsequently drowned himself in your screams and moans of pleasure and pain before indulging in your tight, wet cunt; burying himself to the hilt as he’d come. Sex with a condom just wasn’t the same.

The skin of your ass bounced against his thighs, every bit of contact driving him to thrust deeper, wanting to hit the deepest parts of your core. He let go of your neck, snickering to himself as he heard you let out a desperate gasp for air, and began to rub your pussy as he fucked into you.

“ ‘Can’t believe you’re this wet for me,” he sneered. “Hm, if only you could see yourself!To think, this is one of the rare times I don’t have my cam…”

Your cunt clenched at the idea, and he let out a throaty chuckle. Mickey carried his camcorder everywhere; and the idea of immortalising your illicit affair on a tape filled with your sleazy, steamy antics was enough to send you over the edge. If it ever got out, you’d probably be kicked out of the sorority…Maybe even college. Whilst your father would certainly hate the infamy, there was no doubt Mickey would love them fame.

Mickey groaned as you came around his cock, your walls tightening as he began to reach his own release. Desperately wishing it were your raw pussy, he shot a healthy load of cum into the condom. His grip on your ass tightened as you teased him, grinding your hips against his pelvis so that his slowly softening cock revelled in the wet, spongy sensation.

After a few moments he pulled out of you, placing his hands on his thighs as he admired your aching, satisfied cunt. Smirking, he slapped your ass a final time before collapsing next to you, stroking your pearls and kissing you. This one was slightly different - sloppy, yet gentle. Affectionate, even.

“Whaddya say we stay in tonight, hm?” Mickey perked up, staring at your ceiling. “I’m not going to a party with this —“ he looked down at himself, “— On my dick. How about we rent a movie and get pizza…?”

Cocking an eyebrow, you turned to look at the brunette curiously, propping yourself up on your elbows. It wasn’t explicit, but you knew that this was Mickey’s way of asking you for a date - And to be fair it didn’t even bother you. You were the life of the party, it was likely that it’d be boring without you.

“Sure,” you smirked. “But I am so not paying!”

#a sex tape fic with mickey? YEAH 👀#florence writes!!#mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri smut #timothy olyphant #mickey altieri #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #scream x reader

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