Florence Pugh Imagines (and other marvel women)

Roleplay gone wrong- Florence

The Range Rover pulled over to the side of the abandoned California highway. You were miles from anything, out alone among the sparse bushes, distant hills, and dusty side roads. Even at night, there was no danger of running into anything or anyone. Not out here. The speed limit was 70, but you had easily been doing 85. Something you may now regret.

You squinted to see if you could make out the officer approaching your vehicle. Your tail lights gave a red glow to the reflections off the chrome motorcycle. There were no street lights this far out; those disappeared twenty miles back. Your shame was well hidden in the shadows of dusk.

The dark uniform approached. You watched the woman's torso in your side view mirror as it neared. You couldn't tell if it was a gun or a baton on the woman's belt, but either way, you were nervous.

Three taps at the window. "Ma'am?"

You held the button down as the barrier slowly lowered with a hum. You could now see the woman was brunette, short, and the hottest cop you'd ever seen. Choosing between speaking coherently and making eye contact, you lowered your eyes and spoke nervously.

"Good evening, officer. What seems to be the problem?"

"License and registration, please." The cop was no-nonsense and seemed thoroughly agitated to be given middle-of-nowhere detail on a Saturday night.

You fumbled for your purse on the floor of the passenger seat and dug through it anxiously. You searched for almost a full minute before freezing in fear.

"My wallet's not here."

The cop sighed. "Maybe it fell out on the floor," she offered.

You stretched as far as your seat-belt would allow, digging desperately under the seats, then finally undid the belt to relieve the tension against tour belly. The officer sighed again and waited. Another minute passed.

"Honey, did you leave it on the counter?" The brunette asked.

You shot up, startled, and banged your head on the rear view mirror with a thud. "Damnit!" You turned to face the cop and whispered angrily, "don't break character!"

Florence laughed and regained her composure. "Miss, without any identification, I'm afraid I need to ask you to come with me."

"But, why!" You maintained your best dramatics. "I've done nothing wrong! This is my vehicle! I may not be able to prove it right now, but it is! Call whoever you need to, but I'm not getting out of this car. You don't have a warrant."

Florence raised her eyebrows and made a face like she'd just seen a puppy trying to climb stairs and failing. She cleared her throat and got serious again. "I don't need a warrant for that, miss. Please step out of the car. I will use force if I have to."

A fleeting grin crossed your face, but you recovered immediately and resumed looking scared as you slowly opened the door. You swung your left leg out and stepped into the soft sand. The three-inch heel of your Stiletto planted deep and sunk as you stood on it. Your weight continued forward, and, with your foot stuck, you rolled on your ankle. You screamed, but Florence caught her.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" The cop asked, reaching down to free the shoe. She wondered what the hell you had worn these shoes for in the first place. They were hardly good for driving, and it was getting too dark to see much of anything they were wearing. But then, this had been a bit of an ill-conceived plan from the start. A fun way to spend a Saturday night, they thought. Liven up your sex life a bit with some role play. What could go wrong? Florence had borrowed the motorcycle from Toby for their little scheme but hadn't taken into account how exactly she would pull over your car. Without a siren or horn, she'd been forced to flash her headlight, rev the engine, and eventually wave her arms to get your attention. Thank god there'd still been a hint of daylight. It had been a long drive to your arranged spot, yes, but did you have to be lost in your music every time you got in the car? Then again, you were pretty oblivious to things, she mused.