A Life in Hollywood
Chapter 14 - Scarlett Johansson and Elizabeth Olsen Part 1 (Avengers: Age of Ultron) - Part 3 of Part 2
On cue, a rigged chunk of concrete fell. Elizabeth reacted instantly, shifting her stance, her hips swaying slightly as she redirected the energy. The movement made her ass flex and her tits bounce softly inside the suit, the camera catching the raw physicality of the moment. She held the rest of the debris for a few more beats, face tight with concentration, before slowly lowering her hands as the scene wrapped.
The director yelled cut and gave her a thumbs-up from behind the monitors. "Great work, Elizabeth. That felt real. The strain read perfectly—raw, not overdone."
She smiled, a little out of breath, wiping a strand of hair from her forehead. "Thanks. Felt good to push it again."
Osiah walked over to reset the background near her mark, careful to keep his steps casual. He gave her a small, private smile. "Looking strong. Ankle holding up?"
Elizabeth nodded, cheeks coloring slightly under the lights. "Yeah. Feels good to be moving again. Thanks for making sure the blocking didn't mess with it earlier. I know you were the one who suggested the extra padding on the wire rig."
"Part of the job," he replied, but his tone was warmer, the corner of his mouth lifting. "You nailed that strain in your face. Made the power feel like it actually costs you something. Not just magic—effort."
She laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's what I was going for. It's nice to hear it landed. Sometimes I worry I'm holding back too much, trying to make her look pretty instead of real."
"You're not," Osiah said, glancing at the set as the crew reset. "The way you braced your whole body when the debris dropped—that read. It looked like it hurt. That's what makes it believable."
Elizabeth's smile grew, a little more confident. "Thanks. I needed that. The ankle's still a little tender, but I can feel the difference now that I'm allowed to move more. The doctor said moderate stuff is fine as long as I don't twist it again."
"Good. Listen to it," he said, nodding toward the corridor set. "We've got a few more takes like this today. If you need a break or want me to adjust the extras so you have more room, just say the word."
"I will," she replied, her eyes meeting his for a beat longer than necessary. "Really. Thank you."
Osiah gave her a quick nod before moving on to adjust the extras, but the brief exchange left a quiet spark in the air between them. The production rolled on, the days blending into long hours of filming, resets, and the constant low hum of a set that knew it was making something big.
As a small celebration after a particularly long day of successful takes, Scarlett texted Elizabeth late in the afternoon: "My trailer after wrap. Bring wine if you want. We deserve it. Just us girls… and maybe one more if he's free."
Elizabeth stared at the message for a long moment, thumb hovering over the screen. Her heart gave a little flutter. The memory of the dinner with Osiah, the kiss, the way he had fucked her so carefully yet so thoroughly in her trailer, still lingered warmly between her legs. And now Scarlett was inviting her over. "Just us girls… and maybe one more." The implication was unmistakable. Elizabeth's cheeks heated. She typed back a quick "I'll be there" before she could overthink it, then set the phone down, pulse already quickening.
A few trailers away, Scarlett and Osiah were alone in her space. The day's filming had wrapped, the lot outside growing quiet. Scarlett lounged on the bed in nothing but a loose robe, the front open just enough to show the inner curves of her tits. Osiah sat on the edge, still half-dressed, one hand resting on her bare thigh.
"You really think she'll come?" Osiah asked, voice low, thumb stroking lazy circles on her skin.
Scarlett smiled, slow and wicked. "She will. I saw the way she looked at you after dinner. And after what she walked in on that night… she's curious. Hungry. She just needs a little push." She leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Besides, I told you I wanted her with us. Tonight feels right. We've all been circling each other long enough."
Osiah's hand slid higher, cupping her ass possessively. "You're playing matchmaker and director at the same time. Dangerous combination."
"Only because I know what I want," Scarlett murmured, nipping at his lower lip. "And right now I want to watch you fuck her while I sit on your face. Or maybe let her ride you while I taste both of you. Either way, I want her moaning between us."
Osiah chuckled darkly, squeezing her ass harder. "You're filthy."
"You love it," she shot back, eyes gleaming. "And so will she."
Elizabeth accepted the invitation, nerves and excitement twisting together in her stomach as she walked the short distance across the lot. She had changed into something simple but flattering—a soft sweater and jeans that hugged her hips and ass. Her mind raced with questions. Was this just a casual hangout? Or did Scarlett mean what the text hinted at? The memory of watching Osiah fuck Scarlett while she talked to her fiancé still burned hot in her thoughts, making her thighs press together as she approached the trailer door.
When she opened the door to Scarlett's trailer that evening, she froze in the doorway.
Scarlett's head was dangling off the edge of the bed, throat bulging visibly around Osiah's
{R-18 Scene Osiah x Scarlett Johansson x Elizabeth Olsen 3281 Full Word Count aFireFist on p.a.t.r.e.o.n}
They collapsed in a sweaty, tangled heap, breathing hard, bodies slick and spent. The trailer smelled like sex—musky, sweet, and raw. For a long moment the only sound was their heavy breathing and the faint hum of the set outside.
Scarlett smiled lazily, tracing a finger over Elizabeth's breast. "Welcome to the fun, Liz."
Elizabeth let out a breathless laugh, still trembling. "I… I think I like it here."
Osiah pulled them both closer, one arm around each woman. "Good. Because we're just getting started."
They stayed like that for a while, limbs tangled, hearts slowing. Eventually Osiah stirred first, pressing a soft kiss to Elizabeth's forehead and then Scarlett's shoulder. "We should clean up before someone comes looking for us."
Scarlett hummed in agreement but made no move to get up right away. "Five more minutes. I'm still feeling that last one."
Elizabeth smiled against Osiah's chest, her fingers idly tracing the lines of muscle on his stomach. "Same. My legs don't work yet."
Osiah chuckled, the sound low and warm. He carefully disentangled himself, helping both women sit up. The three of them moved slowly to the small attached bathroom, the space tight but intimate. Osiah turned on the shower, letting the water heat up while Scarlett grabbed clean towels from a shelf. They took turns under the spray, hands gentle now—Osiah washing Elizabeth's back, Scarlett rinsing cum from her own thighs, Elizabeth helping wipe sweat and slick from Osiah's cock with a soapy hand.
No one rushed. The water cascaded over them, washing away the evidence of the night but not the easy, satisfied smiles on their faces.
Once they were clean and dried off, they pulled on comfortable clothes—Elizabeth borrowing one of Scarlett's oversized t-shirts that hung loose on her frame, Osiah in his jeans and nothing else, Scarlett in a simple robe left open at the front. They settled back on the bed, propped against pillows, sharing a bottle of water and a few pieces of chocolate Scarlett had stashed in a drawer.
"That was… intense," Elizabeth said softly, a shy but happy smile playing on her lips. She leaned her head on Osiah's shoulder, her hand resting on Scarlett's thigh. "I didn't expect any of this when I asked you to dinner."
Scarlett laughed, the sound light and affectionate. "Neither did I when I first told him I wanted you to join us. But fuck, it worked out better than I imagined."
Osiah's arm tightened around Elizabeth's waist. "You were perfect. Both of you."
Elizabeth bit her lip, then spoke again, voice a little quieter. "This has been… really good for me. I had a rough break-up a few months ago. It messed with my head more than I wanted to admit. Feeling wanted like this, without any pressure… it's accelerated everything. Made me feel alive again. Sexy again. Thank you. Both of you."
Scarlett reached over and squeezed her hand. "You deserve it, Liz. You're gorgeous, talented, and you've got this quiet fire that's fucking irresistible. We're lucky you walked in on us that night."
Osiah nodded, his thumb stroking slow circles on Elizabeth's hip.
"We can keep doing this. Every chance we get while we're filming. No strings, no drama—just us, whenever the schedule allows. Fuck like rabbits every single time we can sneak away."
Elizabeth's cheeks flushed, but she smiled wider. "I'd like that. A lot."
Scarlett's eyes sparkled with mischief. "We should make it even better next time. Maybe a video call with Romain while we're at it. Let him think I'm just having a late-night chat with my co-star while Osiah's buried inside me… or while you're riding his face, Liz. Imagine his voice on the line while we're all moaning."
Elizabeth's breath hitched, a mix of shock and arousal flashing across her face. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious," Scarlett said, grinning. "He calls every night anyway, thinking I'm just tired from stunts. We could make it fun. You could be right there, trying not to make a sound while Osiah fucks you senseless. Or maybe we let him hear just enough to wonder."
Osiah chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are a bad fucking girl."
Scarlett leaned over and kissed him, then turned to kiss Elizabeth softly. "Only with the right people. And you two? You're definitely the right people."
They talked for a while longer, voices low and comfortable, planning nothing serious but enjoying the idea of more stolen moments on set—quick fucks in trailers, late-night visits, maybe even a risky encounter in a quiet corner between takes. The conversation felt easy, the three of them already slipping into a natural rhythm.
Eventually the night grew late. Osiah helped Elizabeth gather her things, making sure she was steady on her ankle before walking her the short distance back to her own trailer. Scarlett stood in her doorway, robe barely closed, watching them with a satisfied smile.
"Sleep well," she called softly. "We'll do this again soon."
Elizabeth turned and gave her a small wave, cheeks still pink. "Definitely."
Osiah walked her to her door, pressing one last gentle kiss to her lips. "Rest that ankle. We've got more long days ahead."
"I will," she promised, then added with a shy smile, "Thank you. For everything tonight."
He nodded, eyes warm. "Anytime."
Inside her trailer, Elizabeth collapsed onto her bed with a happy, exhausted sigh. The memory of the night played behind her eyes—Osiah's hands, Scarlett's mouth, the way they had all fit together so perfectly. For the first time in months, the ache from her recent break-up felt distant, replaced by something lighter, hotter, and far more exciting.
Across the lot, Osiah returned to his own trailer, the taste of both women still on his tongue. He smiled to himself as he stripped down for bed. The shoot had just gotten a lot more interesting.
Scarlett, alone in her trailer now, lay back on the rumpled sheets with a contented sigh. She touched her still-sensitive body lightly, remembering the feel of Elizabeth's tongue and Osiah's cock. Tomorrow would be another long day of filming, but the nights? The nights were theirs.
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