alicedopey

A/N2: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt: “Tell you a story”

Word Count: 281

Sleep was eluding you yet again. Several rounds of tossing and turning yielding no results other than frustration. Especially when you know the cause: Jonathan is away on business.

You never slept better than when Jonathan was next to you. He made you feel so safe and pleasantly warm. With his side of the bed empty, though, you're feeling cold and lonely.

Grunting in frustration you turn on the lamp and grab your phone. Doing some quick searches you see that Jonathan's time zone would have him still awake, maybe eating dinner. Maybe he'll be delightfully surprised by a phone call.

When you sleepily press the wrong button, you're both surprised by a video call.

"Darling," Jonathan beams. "Not sleeping well?"

"I miss you too much," you pout.

"My own sleep has been rather intermittent as well. Hotel beds simply can't compare to the comfort of being with you."

"I wish I could cuddle you until I fell asleep."

"Alas, it's not an option. But, perhaps I could tell you a story to help you?"

"You'd do that for me?" you tear up.

"Of course. And when you're asleep, I'll hang up the call so you don't have to worry about days charges or anything."

"Thank you, my knight in shining armor!"

Jonathan begins with some stories about his childhood, ones you've heard before but can never get enough of. Focusing on his voice you're able to start letting your mind relax. Your body doesn't feel so cold. Your feeling less alone.

When you drift off to sleep Jonathan smiles. He doesn't end the call, preferring to get more time to just look at you.

"Fais de beaux rêves, mon bijou."

A/N: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt:“Every night's another reason why I left it all”

Word Count: 220

A familiar voice calls your name making you look up from your book. You're surprised to see him in this part of town.

"Long time no see, Ransom," you greet. "Or do I have to call you 'Hugh' these days?"

"You never have to call me that," he's quick say. "We were friends for a very long time."

"Were we?" you raise an eyebrow.

"Fair," he rolls his eyes as he sits across from you. "I haven't seen you since you cut ties with your folks."

"That's by design."

"I suppose," he grumbles. "Do you ever miss the rich life?"

"Not really," you confess. "Every day I get to be myself and not what my parents want me to be. I don't have to perform for 'friends'. And I can sleep pretty well knowing that my life is real."

"Can't put a price on good sleep, I guess."

"Every night's another reason why I left it all," you nod. "No more crying myself to sleep. I don't have to wake up extra early to get my makeup and hair perfect. I can eat what I want, when I want. It's a good life."

Ransom looks uncomfortable for a minute before leaning in close.

"Do you think you could help me get that, too?"

"I'm sure we can work something out."

Part 1; Part 2;

For @darsynia. Hope the kids are healing up and your week gets better!

if this is what the Pompeii documentary is gonna look like, i am living in thirsting fear of what that "the real Finding Nemo" documentary will be 😳🫠

Summary: Mike doesn't want to go home.

Word Count: 297

A/N: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt: Swapped the original for: Don’t Stop Believing - Journey / “A smell of wine and cheap perfume”

Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 10+years older than Mike), Alcohol consumption, Bad parents, Drunkenness, Power imbalance. Please let me know if I missed any!

Main Story

If anyone asks, Mike will say he's staying late because he's wanting time with you. It's a true statement, if not the entire truth. It's also because it's better than going home to a place that reeks with a smell of wine and cheap perfume. Especially since Chaz has been bringing his latest girl around the penthouse making Mom drink to forget her "wasted youth".

He's heard about people cutting ties with family, but he's certain that's not an option for him. Not without leaving town, at least. And he's not going to leave his brand new job and brand new relationship. His family takes so much, he won't give them you as well.

"Well hey there handsome," you coo at Mike. His face instantly transforms into a smile. You're not sure if you actually have that kind of effect on him or if he's just trying to hide how sad, how tired he really is.

"How are you doing beautiful?" he beams, practically bouncing on his toes.

"I'm thinking of going out for dinner tonight. Wanna make it a date? If you have other plans, that's okay."

Mike's smile widens, "that sounds way better than my plans. I was just gonna go home and cook up some instant ramen or something."

"Oh puppy, you need better nutrition than that!" you quietly exclaim. "Then again, I'm not much of a cook either, so I can't judge."

"Maybe we could take a cooking class together sometime! I think one of the guys in my department takes them, maybe I could ask him for a rec?"

"Sounds like a good plan for another date," you smile at him.

The two of you really can't believe you're so lucky to find someone who genuinely wants to spend time with you.

The way his face lightens up when she enters the room 🥺 this man needs acknowledgment and love.

And Boss Lady definitely needs someone who cares.

Cooking classes ? Interesting 👀 Perfect activity to bond.

Summary: You meet a couple of Lloyd's college friends.

Warnings: Bad friends, BDSM elements, Implied smut. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female, smaller than Lloyd. No other physical descriptors used.

Word Count: ~1.2k

Previous--Next

Series Masterlist; Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

"Do I look okay?" you ask again before getting out of the car. "I don't want to embarrass you."

"Oh honey, you know no one can embarrass me," Lloyd smirks.

"Yeah, but you also said you never go to these alumni things so I want to make sure you make a good impression."

"With you on my arm, I'll be making everyone jealous," he teases. "Guys, chicks, especially the ones that think they're straight. They're all gonna be wishing you were in their bed."

Good for reader to show Lloyd she can defend him and that she is not afraid to stand her ground.

Now about what Suzanne said…was it something about college lowlife ? The prostitution ? Does she think she is not worthy of Lloyd ? I am intrigued.

Title: Happy You Could Die

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader

Warnings: Married fluff, interrupted intimacy, parenting chaos Words: 300 words A/N: Entry for June Jukebox Scribbles over @societynsoelsscribbles connected to this and this   Prompt: June 9th -  “Like when you said you felt so happy you could die.”

Bucky kissed you like the morning would go on forever. Slow. Warm. With just that little bit of hunger behind it, his hand holding your cheek and the other curled around your hip, dragging you closer under the blankets. His hair was sleep-mussed, his jaw rough against your cheek. But when he made that low, pleased sound when your fingers slipped into it, you almost moaned.

“Door’s locked?” he murmured against your mouth.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Kids still asleep?”

“Should be.”  That was as far as hope got.

Something crashed down the hall. A small voice shouted, “I didn’t do it!”

A second voice immediately yelled, “YES YOU DID!”

You and Bucky froze, mouths still touching.

Then came a thump.

Silence….The terrible kind.

Bucky exhaled slowly through his nose. “Nope.”

“Nope,” you agreed, already laughing into his shoulder.

He rolled onto his back with the long-suffering sigh of a man denied by his own offspring far too many times. “Remember how excited we were when they were on the way?”

You propped yourself up on one elbow, grinning. “Like when you said you felt so happy you could die?”

“Yeah.” He stared at the ceiling. “Turns out that feeling isn’t infinite...” he joked

You smacked his chest, laughing. “Bucky.”

“What? I love them. I would die for them.” Another suspicious bang sounded. His eyes closed. “I just didn’t think it’d hoping death would be before breakfast.”

You kissed his shoulder. “We’ll be sorry when they’re older and don’t need us.”

His expression softened at that, even as another shout echoed down the hall.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “We will.”

Then something shattered.

Bucky sat up quickly.  “But today ain’t that day.”

You watched him grab sweatpants, grumbling as he went.

Title: Loaded Weapon

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Warnings: Weapons deal, threat/intimidation, dark flirting, dangerous tension Words: 270 words A/N: Entry for June Jukebox Scribbles over @societynsoelsscribbles Prompt: June 8th - Living La Vida Loca - Ricky Martin/  “Like a bullet to your brain.”

The warehouse smelled like oil, saltwater..

You had brought August Walker for one reason.

Not to negotiate. Not to charm.

He was there to stand behind you and make your words heavier.

Instead, he stepped forward.

“The price doubled,” he announced loudly

Every head turned.

Your smile stayed fixed, but something cold slid neatly into place behind your ribs.

Across the warehouse, the broker stilled. His men did too. August remained calm, broad and silent now, like he had not just taken a knife to weeks of careful work.

You let the quiet stretch until it became painful.

Then you looked up at him.

“Did I ask you to speak?”

His gaze cut to yours. “I’m handling it.”

“No,” your voice soft enough that others couldn’t hear. “You’re failing at the one job I brought you here to do.”

A muscle jumped in August’s jaw.

“Back off,” he murmured, not looking away. “Unless you want to burn every bridge in this room.”

You smiled then, slow and sharp.

“If I have to do your job for you, Walker, will be messy, like a bullet to your brain messy.”

The threat settled between you.

His eyes darkened, not with fear. You would have been disappointed if it were fear.

No, August looked at you like he was deciding whether to kill you or kiss you.

One of the broker’s men shifted.

August’s hand moved first, barely lifting his jacket to reveal the gun at his ribs.

The room froze.

You did not look away from him, this was the moment. You weren’t backing down.

“Original price,” you called, done with male bullshit.

August’s mouth curved, tilting his head.

Title: Still Friends?

Pairing: Johnny Storm (CE) x Female Reader  

Warnings: Explicit Content, Minors DNI, 18+,  FwB hook up, Friends to lovers, PiV Sex, Smut Words: 298 words A/N: Entry for June Jukebox Scribbles over @societynsoelsscribbles Prompt: June 9th -  “Well, you said that we would still be friends”

Johnny groaned, his breath hot against your neck as he slid deep inside you. His skin was radiating a feverish, supernatural heat that made your insides feel like they were melting around his cock. "We're still friends, right?" he rasped, his voice strained and husky. He paused for a second, his chest heaving against your breasts, hips grinding into yours.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you arched your back. "Well... you said that we would still be friends," you countered, your voice trembling from the friction.

A smirk played on his lips, a flash of that classic Johnny Storm arrogance blending with raw desire.

"Oh, totally," he whispered. He shifted his weight, his voice dropping. "I mean, friends do this kinda thing all the time, right?"

The joke was the catalyst.

Johnny didn't wait for an answer; he gripped your hips with bruising force and slammed back into you, driving his cock deep and hitting that precise spot that made your vision blur. “Yes.” The word coming any way as your head snapped back against the pillows. “All the time.”  

“Good.” He sounded as ruined as you did before he thrust harder, a loud, guttural moan escaping your throat as your walls clenched violently around him, milking him in a tight, desperate grip.

Fuck it

You reached up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down into a hard, your tongues clashing with the same intensity as your bodies.

More

You pushed your hips back hard into his, meeting every thrust with a frantic energy, no longer caring about the boundaries or how messy this ‘friendship’ was about to get.

A/N: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt:“I feel a premonition”

Word Count: 197

James had been in the field often enough that he could sense when something was off. He could never explain it beyond, "I feel a premonition." It was like a sixth sense telling him a predator was stalking, a venomous snake was in the vicinity, a thief is going for his wallet.

He'd hoped that being with you would help him calm his nerves, and it did. For a bit. But when your companionship turned into something romantic, his nerves picked up again. He was scared to lose you. He needed to protect you. He couldn't relax until he knew you were safe.

The only time he could rest, give his nervous system a break, was when he was in your arms. You held him with such gentle strength it was easy to melt into your touch. Your hands gently rubbing up and down his back helped ground him. Nuzzling your face against him tells him he's wanted, appreciated. He feels safe.

Your apartment is his sanctuary. Your arms are his reprieve. When you're with him, there is nothing he needs to focus on outside of you.

And he'll love you forever for that feeling of safety.