#good times great oldies

[imperfectcourt]

Happy birthday to those little blonde bitches

[frengerino]

the past week

[fibbermcgee123]

Getting the message out, thanks car bluetooth

[viewfromthelake]

My brain, pulling up a jingle from an oldies radio station from a quarter century ago:

"🎵One eight eight eight, two-two-twooo, nineteen sixty-fiiive!🎵"

[your-average-gay-dork]

Okay *hypothetically* if i were to open a lesbian bar one day, where should it be 👀

[levil0vesyou]

Love seeing a blog with the type of selfie as an icon that immediately makes me go "oh, you're either a bot or you've been here since at least 2012"

[amirasainz]

What about Norris reader (17) and Oldie and Kimi Antonelli have a crush on her. Lando, ever the overprotectiv brother, doesn't like this and the other drivers use it to their advantage, because they find this really funny. Reader is just clueless and thinks the boys are really sweet to her♥️♥️

Wait, why do I ship these three??

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo, babygirl 💕

Two for one

The bustling energy of the Mexican Grand Prix electrified the air as Yn Norris wandered around the paddock, wide-eyed with excitement. Her older brother, Lando, had arranged for her to come along this weekend, and she was thrilled to be there. Being just seventeen, this was one of her first big Grand Prix weekends on her own, without her parents or siblings (except Lando) and she couldn't wait to soak it all in.

As she explored the paddock, she suddenly heard her name being called. Turning around, she found herself face-to-face with Kimi and Ollie, both of whom had driven in Free Practice 1 that day.

"Yn! Fancy running into you here," Ollie greeted with a wide grin.

Kimi smirked, giving her a casual wave. "So, what do you think of Mexico so far?"

Yn smiled brightly. "It’s incredible! I’m so happy Lando invited me."

"Oh, he invited you, did he?" Kimi asked with a sly grin, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting Lando to pop out of nowhere.

Yn laughed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, but he’s already being overprotective. He thinks I'm going to, like, get lost or something. I just wanted to go look around by myself, but he practically assigned me a bodyguard."

Kimi and Ollie exchanged amused looks. "Well, we’re here now. So, if you need someone to show you around or keep you company, I think we can handle that," Ollie offered.

"Yeah, you’re in good hands, Yn," Kimi added with a wink.

---

A little later, Lando noticed Yn with Kimi and Ollie, and immediately, he felt his older brother senses tingling. He walked up to them with an exaggeratedly casual stride, hands stuffed in his pockets but eyes locked onto Kimi and Ollie.

"Hey, Yn," Lando greeted her, then quickly turned to Kimi and Ollie. "What are you guys up to?"

Ollie raised his hands defensively. "Just chatting with your sister, mate. Nothing serious."

Kimi chimed in, smirking slightly. "Yeah, just giving her some company. It can’t be fun to wander around here alone."

Lando narrowed his eyes. "Well, she’s not alone. I’m here."

Yn rolled her eyes. "Lando, I’m fine. You don’t have to act like I’m five."

"Yeah, Lando, she’s fine," Ollie teased, nudging Lando’s arm. "Besides, it's not like Kimi and I are troublemakers."

Max, who had been watching from nearby, wandered over, grinning as he picked up on the situation. "Oh, looks like little Norris has some admirers."

"Yeah, careful, Lando," Checo joined in, laughing as he walked by. "You know, they say these drivers are charmers. Better keep a close eye on her, or she might run off with them to Yucatan."

Lando scowled, crossing his arms. "That’s not funny, guys."

Ollie looked at Yn, feigning a wistful expression. "Yucatan, huh? That could be fun."

Yn rolled her eyes again, laughing. "Ignore them, Ollie. You’re all acting like children."

Kimi leaned closer to her. "Maybe. But you know, Yucatan does sound like a pretty great idea."

Lando stepped in between them, giving Kimi a warning look. "Don’t even think about it, Antonelli."

Kimi laughed, but there was a hint of nervousness. As much as he enjoyed teasing Lando, he could feel Lando’s big-brother protectiveness radiating off him in waves. Still, he couldn’t resist pushing a little.

"Relax, Lando," Kimi said, holding up his hands. "We’re just here to make sure Yn has a good time."

"Under my supervision," Lando shot back, narrowing his eyes. He put an arm around Yn’s shoulder. "You’re staying close to me for the rest of the weekend."

Yn groaned, but Lando’s resolve didn’t waver.

---

The next day, Lando was more determined than ever to keep an eye on his sister. Every time Kimi or Ollie got close, he’d swoop in, leading her away or blocking their paths.

Eventually, Pierre caught onto the whole situation and couldn’t resist chiming in. "You know, Lando, if you keep this up, you’re going to scare away all her potential boyfriends."

Lando shook his head, exasperated. "That’s the plan, Pierre."

Carlos joined the fun, laughing. "Be careful, Lando. Vegas is just around the corner. Blink, and she might end up running off with Kimi or Ollie. Maybe even both."

Ollie, who had overheard, grinned, raising his eyebrows at Yn. "What do you think, Yn? Should we book tickets?"

Yn chuckled. "Oh, please. Lando would probably have a heart attack before we even left the airport."

Lando glared at them. "I’m serious. You two better not get any ideas, you stinky whankers."

Kimi shrugged, but his smirk didn’t fade. "Relax, mate. We’re just keeping her company."

Charles joined the group, looking thoroughly entertained. "I can’t wait for Vegas now. If this is how Lando is in Mexico, Vegas will be legendary. Maybe we’ll all get invited to Yn’s wedding."

Lando groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You all are impossible."

---

As the weekend progressed, Kimi and Ollie kept finding small ways to get Yn’s attention. They’d save her a seat, bring her snacks, and keep her laughing with stories and jokes. Each time, Lando was there, watching like a hawk.

At one point, Yn turned to him, exasperated. "Lando, seriously. I’m just hanging out with friends. Can you please relax?"

"I am relaxed," Lando replied, not convincing anyone.

Yn shot him an annoyed look. "You’re practically breathing down my neck."

Ollie leaned in, whispering, "Told you he’s overprotective."

Kimi chuckled. "You’re handling it well, though."

Yn laughed, shaking her head. "I think it’s actually you two who are nervous around him."

Both Ollie and Kimi exchanged guilty looks, though they quickly covered it with their usual confident smiles. But every time Lando was around, they seemed to straighten up a little, wary of his watchful eyes.

---

On race day, things hit a peak. Kimi and Ollie had managed to catch Yn alone, and they were chatting animatedly about everything from their goals in racing to funny stories from the paddock. Yn was laughing, completely unaware of the fact that both boys were subtly vying for her attention.

But it didn’t take long for Lando to find them, and he wasted no time inserting himself into the conversation.

"Hey, Yn, you ready to come to the garage?" he asked pointedly.

Yn glanced at Kimi and Ollie apologetically. "Duty calls, I guess."

Ollie gave Lando a pleading look. "Come on, Lando. Let her hang out with us for a bit longer."

Lando raised an eyebrow. "Why, so you two can keep flirting with her?"

Kimi flushed, stammering, "W-We weren’t—"

Yn stared at him in surprise. "Flirting? Seriously, Lando? We’re just friends."

"Exactly," Lando said, taking her by the arm. "And that’s all you’re going to be."

Max and Charles, who had been watching the entire exchange, burst into laughter. Charles clapped Lando on the back. "Relax, Lando. You’re acting like you’re her father."

Max nodded, grinning. "Good luck keeping her under control in Vegas. Don’t be surprised if she elopes with one of them. Or both."

Lando scowled, his grip on Yn’s arm tightening slightly. "Not happening. Not on my watch."

Yn sighed, throwing Kimi and Ollie a helpless look as she was guided away. They exchanged amused, slightly nervous glances, but it was clear that they weren’t about to give up. She blew them a kiss, which both Kimi and Ollie pretended to catch. Ollie put his "kiss" to his heart while Kimi put his on his cheek.

As Yn and Lando walked off, she glanced up at her brother, shaking her head. "You know, if you keep acting like this, no one’s ever going to want to date me."

"That’s the point," Lando muttered under his breath.

Yn laughed. "You’re ridiculous."

"And I’m your older brother," he replied, smirking. "Get used to it."

Behind them, Kimi and Ollie shared a look, nodding in silent agreement. They’d have to work harder to get Yn’s attention without incurring the wrath of overprotective older brother Lando. But they weren’t about to give up. After all, Vegas was coming up soon, and as much as Lando hated to hear it, the weekend held endless possibilities.

[erwinsvow]

rafe leaves his car running, music still playing, when he comes to pick you up. he knocks on the door to your house twice, not even bothering to send you a message to come and get him since he knows you’re not on it—you’re probably applying the finishing touches to your makeup or spraying something over your styled hair. your mom gets the door, which is good—your dad isn’t always rafe’s biggest fan. he stays down there, engaging in polite small talk for a few minutes before going up the stairs to your bedroom. 

with his hand hovering above the doorknob, wondering how much time you still need and if the two of you are gonna miss your dinner reservations, he catches the sound of music blaring from your room. it’s not the usual stuff—the lana songs you play on repeat, claiming they’re rafe-coded or the oldies you listen to softly when you’re trying to relax. no, he can hear his music coming from your room, and more than that, he can hear you singing along. 

he stays like that, listening for a few more minutes, smiling to himself before turning the knob and stepping in. true to form, you’re applying another layer of shiny lip gloss, the sticky one that always makes a mess on his face and his dick.

“ak-forty to your livahhh- oh hi rafe!” you turn to great him, looking extra pleased as he comes over to your vanity and presses a kiss to your head while looking in the mirror with you.

“the hell are you listening to?” he laughs, but you can tell he’s holding back a laugh. “y’know i have the truck running, right?”

“smith and wesson…gang reppin-” you sing along again, before breaking into a fit of giggles. you finish applying your lip gloss and then set it down on the counter, adjusting your hair and humming along.

“am i a bad influence? is that what this is?” 

you turn to look up at him from your seat, pressing your hand against the collar of his polo and dragging him down into a kiss. he deepens it, wet and messy, swallowing your moan into his mouth and hand gripping the back of your neck, before he pulls you away. 

“you’re the worst influence. now my makeup is all messed up.” you turn back to the mirror, wiping the corners of your mouth and picking up your lip-liner.

“how long have you been recitin’ drake and 21?”

“you play it all the time!” you protest, half-heartedly. “it’s catchy. and it reminds me of you.” he smirks, taking a seat on your bed. 

“hurry it up or we’ll miss the reservation.” 

you roll your eyes.

“yes, dad.” you think he doesn’t notice, but he gets up from his seat and buries his head in your neck, gripping a tender piece of skin between his teeth and sucking hard. you feel it instantly, and uncomfortable wetness spreading in your panties and the familiar want tightening in your stomach. when rafe pulls away, there’s a bright, dark red mark on your neck

“rafe!” you whine, wiping the skin of his spit and observing in the mirror. your hand goes to grab the bottle of concealer already out, but he stops your wrist mid-movement. 

“nuh-uh, that’s what you get for talkin’ back.” he kisses your cheek. “now come on, i don’t wanna be late.” you comply immediately.

[fairestwriting]

Hey, hello, would it be possible to request the first years with a crush or s/o who's constantly very warm so they can basically act as a human heating pad but despite this they're very touch starved and basically melt into hugs and cuddles, gender neutral pronouns would be great, thank you very much and merry (probably late) Christmas if you do this and same to you even if you don't!

another oldie (Visibly. im so sorry anon. i hope an awesome holiday season) i just had to take...... in the name of all my fellow human space heaters

Ace Trappola

One day, his hands got cold, and you were nearby, neck fully exposed, and Ace did what he would obviously do in this situation. Except it turned out he was the one shocked by how warm you are, even though he did make you jump a bit.

He's a fan of the physical affection. He doesn't fluster easily and likes showing you off all smug, linking your arms together or putting his over your shoulder while you're with your friends. The warmth is a great bonus.

When you cuddle up in a hot day, he whines about how you're gonna cook him alive and will jokingly "attempt" to push you off while giggling, then turning on the AC of his room or dragging you both somewhere cooler.

Deuce Spade

The first time you hug, Deuce gets spooked because he thinks you have a fever. He fusses over you for a few good minutes before you can explain anything. Then gets embarrassed of his reaction.

Being Deuce, he'll randomly revisit this worry, but mostly he just eases into it rather easily. He's a little shy, whether you're in public or not, but you can tell he feels comfortable with the way he leans into you.

Feels so bad if you're holding hands and his gets sweaty. Apologizes a billion times while wiping it clean on his shirt. Nevermind that it'd happen even if you weren't so warm, he just doesn't want you to ever feel awkward when touching him.

Jack Howl

Also really warm because of his wolf beastman genes, also surprisingly touchy. It's hard to tell which one of you is warmer, actually? Which in the end just means you end up comfortably cuddled up very oftwn.

...whenever you're away from others, of course. It's not that Jack hates the thought of PDA, but he "prefers to take it slow" (Read: Makes him blush way too easy)

Commiserates in the summer and celebrates in the winter if you're not very tolerant to heat like him. Sometimes he talks about his family's trips to the north with a voice softer than usual, hinting just a little bit that he'd really love it if you came along one day.

Epel Felmier

He's also on the warmer side temperature wise, but he's small, so he ends up getting cold surprisingly easily.

At first he's a bit spooked with the touchyness, really just because it's his first relationship, but it grows on him. A lot.

Epel thinks him getting cold easy-ish is embarrassing, so he really feels like he won the lottery here. Now he gets to put his arm around your waist to stay warm and look cool with you by his side, boy's on top of the world.

Sebek Zigvolt

Runs very cold. The first time your hand is anywhere on him he jumps a bit. The situation's like the inverse of someone who gets startled by their friend's cold hands pressed to their neck.

He briefly questions if you're really human, stammering something about how only beastmen are so warm. He's too distracted by how nice your warmth feels to make much sense.

He's so easily flustered every time you get cuddly, but if he even tries to push you off (Which he mostly just does if you're in public) it comes out all feeble. Even if he's trying to keep up with etiquette and you two actually have to step away from each other, it's all over his face that he misses the coziness.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[the-fab-fox]

Okay so this has been something I've been chewing on for a long while. About making this post I mean.

This one is to those who actively ingest fanfiction but seem to think it's okay to just read free fiction that people have put time and thought and crafted prose for your enjoyment and do nothing in return.

All we ever ask for and all we ever want is for y'all to AT THE VERY LEAST hit that kudos button if you like the work. That is the BARE MINIMUM of what you SHOULD be doing. Especially all of you who say you're too nervous to comment or don't wish to be perceived. And if you don't want your account on the list, you can log out and send a guest kudos.

But as I said, BARE MINIMUM. If you loved the fic, if you got something out of it that left you feeling good and energized (or whatever angst does for y'all) then I want to take a moment and strongly urge you to comment, subscribe (if a wip), and bookmark those works. Did you know there's an option to even mark it as a Fic Recommendation? You can put notes in to and say why you liked it and things like that (DO NOT DO A RATING IN PUBLIC BOOKMARKS HOWEVER). And, you can indeed make them private! The writer still gets the number added to their stats but your bookmark we won't see.

Anyway, I now wanna turn your attention to Exhibit A:

This is a list of my best performing fics. Do you see the problem with this? The green highlights are the hits I've received for those fics. The red is the Kudos and comment threads. Now the kudos is obviously right?

Let's look at my number one fic right now, Accidentally in Love (a Malleyuu fic from Twisted Wonderland fandom). It's the seventh fic in a romance series. As you can see, it's doing great as far as hits, right? And I know it's an amazing fic from the comments I have received and just from rereading it myself. Note, I am probably the biggest bully to myself as @sunshineandteddybears and @mellosdrawings and @romantichopelessly can tell you in great detail. So when I am saying it's really damn good, you can probably trust it's gonna be pretty damn good. And yet, a fic that has 4K hits only has 119 kudos. And now to bring your attention to the comment threads. So honestly with how bad readers are on actually commenting (which by the way if you log off you can send anonymously as a guest—you'll have to put in your email address but we authors won't see that)... 107 seems pretty good right? But you guys don't see that. You see what's on the info for the story. Unfortunately, on the fic info at the top of the story, it counts every single comment (including the Author's). (The comment threads is just every single starting comment, i.e. the first comment received from each commenter.)

The thing is, I—and probably quite a few other writers—do respond to every single comment.

So that means where the info on my fic itself says 230 comments, in reality, I'm at half that when I subtract my half of the comments. So that's actually 115 comments from other people. So some people might see that 230 and think oh they got a lot of comments so I don't think they want to hear from me or I can't be fucked and they're already doing good so.

NO. NO. NO. Do not look at the numbers as a guide if a fic is good or not. Do not look at the numbers and think that we don't need or deserve to get any more. And finally WE WANT TO HEAR FROM Y'ALL.

Excuses need to stop.

Speaking of numbers. Here's my over all stats current on AO3.

In the 3 years on this AO3 account (I've had others in the past and accounts on ff.net and live journal. I'm an oldie fanfic writer lol. 21 years of fanfic. My gods. 🤣) It didn't used to be like this guys. Back in the day I'd get 12 plus comments on a chapter and this is on stuff a teenager wrote.

We have got to get back to the point of supporting each other and building each other up. Also while I'm at it, I have a huge beef with the fact that fanartists get so much more positive feedback and replies and comments, but the thing is, even their numbers are skewed. You can go into the notes of a fanart on here that has 10k notes to see they have maybe 100-1K reblogs (if that, I'm being generous) and maybe 10 or so replies (if turned on) and the rest are all likes. EVERYONE has been on here long enough by now to know that likes do nothing to get a post in the algorithm and tags only do so much. Reblogs are the only way their art (or our fanfictions for people who post them on here) gets seen! By sharing!

So y'all gotta get better. Yes, we write for ourselves first, but ultimately a story is meant to be shared with everyone and feedback should not be optional if you're actively reading the fics or viewing the art for free and enjoyed it!

TLDR:

IF YOU FUCKING LIKE A FANFIC. KUDOS AT THE VERY LEAST BUT BE BETTER. COMMENT. BOOKMARK. SUBSCRIBE IF IT'S A WIP YOU LOVE. (Like, comment and reblog if on Tumblr)

IF YOU FUCKING LIKE A FANART ON TUMBLR. COMMENT. LIKE. REBLOG.

DO BETTER AS READERS AND US WRITERS AND ARTISTS WILL GIVE YOU THE WORLD (AND MANY OTHER WORLDS TO BOOT)

That is all. Please reblog the fuck out of this if you agree.

(and tagging my current and last fandoms so this can get in fandom spaces where it needs to be.)

[on-the-clear-blue]

An idea I had about the Bat fam and what kind of music they would listen to

Alfred: prefers silence but on nights where he needs something in the background, surprisingly, Alfred is a fan of country music, preferint older artists but he is favorable to some newer stuff as long as it isn't stadium country.

Bruce: Old punk and metal, like the kind he heard at a punk bar he got in with shitty ids, in the late 80s high on acid with Harvey, this man thinks Nirvana was great but thought they didn't go hard enough.

Dick: as a child? Show tunes, if Disney put it out this man was humming it while kicking goons asses, later on in life? Dick has blossomed into musicals, but like, the kind your not thinking of, Dick belts out songs from Cats all the way to "Veronica open the please! Veronica open the door!" While banging on Tim bedroom door.

Barbara: Is a major fan of Lo-Fi, loves it since it is music but the lyrics don't distract her from doing her work, will play it in the library when it's slow

Jason: he grew up on the streets and that doesn't get a lot of options to listen to music...except in stores where they play the days top 100, he gets Vietnam flash back during Christmas time and he hears Mariah Carey, after his death and resurrection, he found rap and fell in love, loves all the lyricism and word play, has played Not Like Us on repeat for the last week even after the beef was done.

Cass: hard core death metal...and classical music. She does ballet dances to both. Nuf said.

Tim: as a child he was the kid who ripped fanaf songs off YouTube and played them as his ring tone, he still has those songs in rotation but has added folk punk and really obscure bands he finds with like 3 listeners...also is a fan of yacht core music...

Steph: Taylor Swift Girly, shares Dicks love of showtunes, huge BTS stan (while dating Tim she repeatedly "left" Tim for Jimin when ever they argued...Tim still has beef with him to this day)

Duke: Oldies, I can see him going through his parents old vinyls and tapes after they got jokerized to feel close to them and now he learnt all of Elvis's discography.

Damian; Anime songs. Cried the first time his listend to Blue Bird, listens to J-rock when he is painting, and even though he will try and hide it, he has a secret love for Bollywood music as well, probably was introduced to it while doing an early assassination with the League and kept with it as he left.

(Plus a few that I could think of)

Kate: she strictly listens to Alpha male work out music Playlists, heavy on the dubstep, can and will bench press your body weight to show you that no Chad SHE is the alpha here. (As well as Girl and red and Rio Romeo)

Bernard: listens to fan made game songs, meme songs (has all of the polish cow dance song memorized) chronically online taste, also has worked in kitchens so has a deep knowledge of rap and rock.

Roy: Dad music, loves a good jam sesh rocking out to KISS but because of Lian he now is immune to Baby shark being used as torture.

Jon: is a literal child. He is 12 and thinks that skibidi toliet is the best thing that has graced this world, he will tell Lex Luthor that he has Ohio Rizz, then do the griddy in the air and fly away.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Immortal with an immortal S/o pls(maybe where the s/o isn't a hero)

The Immortal x Immortal male reader

Headcanons

Im going off my personal headcanon that Immortals name is Abraham or Abe, just cuz its easier to write. A shorty but a goody. I was listening to old people music, cuz I kept imagining them acting like an old married couple.

Having an immortal partner would be something that helps Abes mental state quite a lot, since one of the reasons he struggles mentally is the fact that the people he loves keeps dying from one thing or another.

How you are immortal doesn’t really matter, even if it strong effects your physical appearance. As long as you can come back like immortal can, or somehow can’t die at all.

Maybe you stood by his side back during the beginning of his hero acts, back before it was called being a hero and it was just Abe wanting the best for the world and its people. But you quickly realize being a hero like that isn’t for you.

You do your own thing when Abe goes out to be a hero. You guys have both been alive for so long that neither of you really get jealous or worry too much if you don’t see each other for months. It’s nice to keep in touch though, and you guys make sure to meet up as much as you can.

Maybe you are more focused on something like the arts, performing, writing, and so on. Or you might even be more active in helping the little guy, like food banks and the likes.

Maybe you live in a cabin far away from the cities, up in the mountains where even the GDA leaves you alone. So, its somewhere Abe can come and just relax and be himself. Cue him coming back from a stressful meeting with the guardians, and he immediately relaxes when he hears the music playing from wherever you are.

You are both very old, which means your tastes are kinda dated. With you not being so busy being a hero, you can be a bit more modern, but there’s still lots of old things that make you nostalgic, and stuff you two like to do together.

I could imagine that Abe quite likes to do domestic things together the old way. Like cooking with the old tools, no modern machines or crazy inventions. Just you two, your hands, and whatever tools you guys have had since the 50s.

You guys would also dress quite old at times, even if it was on accident. People end up thinking you guys are some of those people who dress up and act out old times. It gets a little funny when you guys meet other people who do that, who all gush at how great your outfits are, unaware that it’s so good because its actually your clothes from back then.

Abe is also old school romantic. You bet he brings you flowers. You bet he still acts like he’s courting you like some kind of knight. And you bet he gets scandalized and flustered being too affectionate in public. You find it adorable though.

It’s a very common occurrence for you two to dance together. Be it in your kitchen or living room with oldies playing. Or at those clubs that are for the people dressing up and acting like it’s the 50s for fun.

You guys have most likely also been married for many many years. Way before it became illegal for two men to be married, and maybe even before marriage is as we know it now. But Abe would be so flustered thinking about marrying you again.

You can tell what he’s fumbling about since you’ve known him for so long, but its so endearing that you just let him work up the guts to propose again, probably for the 10th time in your guys long lives.

All in all, you help center Abe much more than he is in canon, since he doesn’t have to worry about you growing old and dying, or just you dying in general. He still worries of course, I don’t think he ever doesn’t worry, but its not as bad.

[livlaughloveluke]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧’ 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝- 𝐣.𝐜

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: jack says something stupid at an oscars afterparty

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: very jealous jack

𝐚/𝐧: inspired by the song “somethin’ stupid” by frank sinatra (great little oldie) also lmk if you can spot the community reference!🤭

(can we talk about how good olivia rodrigo looks in that dress?!?)

p.s - im sorry this was so short and if you requested something im working on it right now

your makeup artist finished her final details, and you slipped into your gorgeous shimmery dress. 

you were going to the oscars, for a new hit rom-com movie that you stared in had been nominated multiple times. the whole cast stayed in the same hotel, and were riding in a limo together to where it was hosted. 

jack played your love interest, and lets just say you had grown very fond of him during filming. truth was, you had a massive crush on the boy. he had ignored your many obvious hints, so you assumed he just didn’t like you back. 

however, jack was just oblivious to your signs. he had convinced himself that you just had a friendly personality, and that you would never like him like how he liked you. you could have anyone, so why would you choose him? 

you were a talented and attractive actress, so it was no surprise that you had a couple fanboys. well, a little more than a couple. millions of people worshiped you, and although you loved being popular, it could be a lot to handle. 

the sound of someone knocking interrupted your thoughts, and you went to go open your door. 

it was jack, looking as handsome as ever. he greeted you with a smile, and you mirrored his actions.

“you ready? everyone is about to leave.” jack asked, and you nodded and grabbed your purse. the car ride to the venue was filled with laughter and excitement. some rumors were spreading about you winning best actress for the movie, and you were overjoyed. 

jack was shockingly disappointed. he wanted you to win, and you deserved it for your incredible performance. however, he knew this award would only increase your fame, which meant his chances with you only lowered. 

the show went on, and not only did your movie win best romantic movie, but you also won best leading actor. it was amazing, and you felt so honored. after the whole ceremony, you and the rest of the cast headed to an afterparty that was hosted by another celebrity.

it was gorgeous, very elegant and formal. hundreds of famous actors and actresses roamed the large building. 

“care for a dance, m’lady?” jack asked, and you giggled at his expression.

“why of course, m’lord.” you respond back, and he grabs your hand, leading you to an empty spot on the tile floor. you danced together as a vintage song played in the background.

even in this ethereal situation, jack still was disappointed. he put on a smile, but in reality, he knew there was a chance you be leaving with another man. he pushed passed his dark thoughts, and tried to enjoy this dazzling moment. 

the evening only got later, and a guests starting clearing out. a few still remained, but the once lively house now seemed much more empty.

you and jack had an excellent night, and the both of you decided to start exploring around the mansion. you spotted a gorgeous isolated balcony, and hurriedly opened the glass doors to outside.

the view was unreal, and the cool crisp air added on to the spectacular sight. jack stood next to you, and was caught in a haze by your beauty.

he knew he had to confess, and soon. your perfume fills his head, and all his negative thoughts crumple as words start to spill out.

“i love you. or-uhm im in love with you.” 

you looked at him wide eyed and shocked, unsure of what to say. you try to form words but all that comes out is a stutter filled jumble of incoherent nonsense. 

“i’m sorry, oh god that was so stupid. I totally spoiled this night for you. i can ju-“ jack starts, but you cut him off.

“i’m in love with you, too. just was a little caught off guard.” you giggle, and the whole mood lightened. jack smiled, a true genuine smile, for the first time in a while. 

“you know, i’ve been practicing my confession every day for weeks now, and i totally forgot to say it.” he says, cracking a laugh.

“maybe another time. how about we head back to the hotel?” you respond. jack links arms with you, and you leave, happy jack said something stupid.

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[pedge-page]

For piss kink I think it would be a good scenario to have Joel and reader staying at a hotel and having to share a bathroom. They get back from a night out and she has to go but unfortunately so does he. She sits on the toilet and goes while he aims in between her legs.

Shared Room

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings: PISS KINK, 18+ ONLY

Your date weekends out with Joel are usually filled with great music on the road, drunken grinding on each other in a bar, and shared insatiable sex in the hotel room booked for the two of you.

Except this weekend, Joel’s truck needing maintenance on the side of the road for 4 hours, radio shorted out, the bars were packed with too many other drunk “just turned 21 year olds” barfing on one another, and hotel reservation canceled last minute for overbooking wasnt exactly the fun you had planned.

You’re exhausted, hungry, and above all, need to go relax in a private bathroom that didn’t involve the rest of the world going to shit around your day.

Joel ALSO was looking forward to it.

Now checked into a dingy motel, more drunk than you had intended because you were trying to have a good time and not get annoyed by the kids in the “oldies” club. You to stumble to the door, clutching the big lump of a man, desperate to make it in and to the toilet before you end up looking like a kid peeing herself.

Joel gave you one look, seeing the way you sway back and forth crossing your legs, and narrows his eyes. You narrow yours too, and peek his crotch and his little inward flinches, before back to his gaze. A moment of silent passes before he’s turning the key, and you’re both shoving passed the other barring into the hallway in the dark, punching around to find the bathroom door. Joel’s already unbuckling his pants but you luckily slide your skirt and panties down in one swift motion and sit your ass on the toilet in front of him.

“Fuck!” He shouts in defeat. 

You smile triumphantly, but also in relief, as your liquids rush out of you with just the nick of time.

His eears twitch at the sound of your piss trickling into the toilet loudly, splashing the water and echoing the entire bathroom. 

He doesn’t stop the frantic, now slightly angered, tearing of his jeans down. “Spread.”

You stare up at him with big eyes, unsure yet curious as your thighs part. He fists his slightly limp cock and aims it towards the narrow slit of the basin before sighing, and a rush of yellow urine shots from his slit down into the toilet.

“Hey!” You shout, but don’t dare move as your shared pee fills the toilet.

“Lift your shirt,” he says, grinning as he steadies himself.

You ball your top and grasp it between your teeth, revealing your breasts pressed tightly in your pull up bra.

You hum, watching him stand above with his cock in his hand, the stead rush of both of your filled bladders emptying together.

You try not to lick your lips at each twitch of his dick, slowly hardening under your gaze, leaning back to get a full appreciation of him.

He tugs up just a bit, and his jet of piss hits right on your exposed clit. “UFMM!” You gasp, nearly letting your shirt slip from your teeth, startled at the warm pelt of his hot urine splattering on your little nub just perfectly.

“Ahhh, that’s the spot, ain’t it?”

You nod, eyelids feeling heavy from the relentless pleasure stimulating your clit. He hears the stuttering of your piss start and stop, affected now by your little throbs of your cunt.

Joel pumps his cock and tilts his stream up to now splash all over your belly before forcing the last shot of piss between your tits. Before you could protest, Joel yanks his shirt off and shimmies out of his pants entirely.

“Get in the shower and clean your little tits off, or I’ll make you suck my cock clean since you wanna be a selfish little piss bitch.”

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 2 🍒

“Coffee & Garth Brooks”

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 1,247

Summary: Joel visits you at work and during some innocent flirting, you reveal something that you probably should have just kept quiet about.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, however this chapter is pretty tame, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), reader is tomboyish but otherwise no race mentioned and will not be throughout the series, until specified this story takes place in the summer of 2003 and is AU with no outbreak, flirting, reader has mild fantasies about Joel, no use of y/n

Series Masterlist

Mondays at the cafe are hectic. So as eager as you are to see if Joel will show up, you're also swamped with orders. It's not until the crowd begins to clear that you see him. He's smiling at you and you can't ignore the way your heart does a little backflip.

"Hey!" You greet him with a smile.

He approaches the counter. Today he's wearing a heather-gray t shirt and jeans. His hair is tousled, beard neatly trimmed, and you catch a whiff of clean-scented shower gel coming off him. "I remember you," he says, a playful glint in his dark eyes.

"I remember you too. . and I remember I owe you a coffee for helping me yesterday."

"Hang on there. Where's that ring I labored so arduously to free from your kitchen drain?"

You smile at his wordiness. "Why, it's right here." You extend your left hand to show off the ring, a lot cleaner and shinier than the last time he saw it.

He surprises you by taking your hand with a delicate touch. "It would've been a shame to lose somethin' so pretty." His eyes move up to yours, as if to gauge your reaction. "That offer still on the table?"

This small yet meaningful gesture mesmerizes you. "The… offer?" you mumble. "Oh! The coffee." Crimson, you fix his coffee, giving him a bigger size than you're supposed to. "Are you on your way to a site?" You ask as you hand him his drink.

"Thank you. Yeah, I've gotta check in on a site before noon." He sips his coffee, leaning against the counter. You try not to stare but you give a quick glance - his body, even when at rest, seems powerful.

"What's it like, being a contractor? Do you like it?" Before the words come out of your mouth you realize how immature you sound. Of course he likes it. He wouldn't be in that business if he didn't.

You feel a little relief when he smiles. "It depends on the day. You get plenty of sun, and you have to deal with a lot of bullshit, deadlines.. but it pays. So I don't mind it all that much. What about you? You enjoy bein' a barista?" Joel smirks and you wonder if he's enjoying your exchange as much as you are.

"It's thrilling," you say in a deadpan voice. "Wanna trade places for a day?"

"I'll pass," he laughs. "Sounds like you're tryin' to get out of work right now," he teases you, leaning over the counter. He places his elbows down and rests his chin on his clasped palms.

"Can you blame me? At least you get your choice of music in your truck, not whatever this is," you roll your eyes at the indie jazz playing over the speakers.

"I'm in charge of the radio in my truck. Just the way I like it."

"What do you listen to?" You also lean against the counter, subconsciously angling yourself towards him. You're only vaguely aware of the cafe, of your surroundings. As you talk with him it just feels good.

"I'll listen to almost anything: rock, oldies, anything really. I guess I don't like anything too artsy and pretentious-soundin'," he answers.

"You strike me as a country music lover," you give him a little bit of teasing.

He tilts his head to the side. "You got a read on me already, huh? Well I won't lie, I listen to some country, but only the old stuff. Not this new, pop-py, overproduced stuff."

"Do you like Garth Brooks? George Strait? They're the greats. You have to like them."

"Girl, you're too young to tell me who the greats are," he grins. "George is the king of country music. Garth's a given. He's kinda cheesy sometimes, but his songwriting is great, no denyin' that."

"When I was a kid I used to go around singing his songs to anyone who would listen. I would put on a show, sing at the top of my lungs.. I was a pretty rambunctious kid," you laugh at the memory.

"Bet you're just as rambunctious as an adult too," he says playfully.

You smirk. Joel's flirting with you, there's nothing more obvious. "I'm a college girl. I'm supposed to be rambunctious."

He gives a low chuckle and an intrusive thought slides into your brain: you want to know what that low rumble in his chest sounds like, with your ear pressed against him… When you come back to your senses you catch his eyes scanning your face. "Fair enough. I'm sure you've got all the boys chasin' ya, huh?"

There it is: the question you thought was only ever asked in books, in movies, and Joel is the one to ask it about you. "Oh.. not really.."

"I find that hard to believe."

You look away a moment, wiping an invisible spot on the counter with a cloth. "Truth is, I kind of have someone.. back home in Houston." You dare a peek at him only to see something like relief cross his face.

"That's great," he says, maintaining a smile.

You regret saying something like that. Trevor isn't someone worth bringing up to Joel, yet you have used him almost as a shield, and you don't know why. "It's, uh.. kind of uh.. ambiguous," you add. "He's going to university there. I guess we're still figuring things out."

Joel nodded slowly. "So.. it's complicated, is what you're sayin'?"

"A little.. I don't really, you know, want to talk about it." You smile and shrug as if it's a minor thing.

"Of course." He puts his hands up, then he looks like he wants to say something but he stays quiet. Looking at his watch he says, "I gotta get to the site."

"Yeah.. I should also get back to work." You turn your back for a moment then turn again to say something else to him but he's already outside going to his truck.

The rest of your shift goes by smoothly and you pocket your tips and start home. Once you're comfortable in the house you allow yourself to think about your interaction with Joel. Of course the first friend you make in Austin would be the ruggedly handsome, middle-aged man next door. A man with a daughter only a few years younger than yourself.

You've never really been in this position before. You don't really recognize your own feelings. You've had crushes on older guys before: teachers, coaches.. so why is this time different? And why are you struggling with it?

Joel, meanwhile, feels himself in almost the same predicament. He doesn't want to admit it to himself but he really likes you. The age difference is too much for him to even consider, but your presence.. it's getting to him. He likes talking to you, wants to be close to you.. but he can't. He doesn't want to mess up his life, and it will only cause problems if he doesn't keep his distance. He worries he won't be able to fully shake you off his mind.

A few days later he spots a paper on his truck windshield. It's a handwritten note from you:

pool party at our place this Saturday @ 2 pm

and your name signed underneath. Joel smiles and gets a pen from inside his truck to write a reply.

We'll be there, he writes beneath your message and he leaves the paper on your car windshield.

<- prev chapter

next chapter ->

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[partycatty]

drunkenly sending oldie johnny (your boss basically) nudes⁉️⁉️

older!johnny cage > because of you

warnings: ur ass and butt are out, age gap (ur about 30), drunken goobers

[ masterlist ]

you weren't the type of person to get plastered on a tuesday, but a mission with the special forces went off with every success possible. johnny, one of the leaders and coordinators, insisted that a party was well-deserved, as was a week off (provided that any netherrealm horrors don't peek their head around the corner in that time).

a healthy serving of wine swirled in your glass as you were too entranced in the motion to notice your boss coming up to you. he had a beer in hand, and a sloppier smile than the one he typically carried himself with. he was loosened up, ready to charm anyone that'll give him the time of day. it's one of those traits you never really let go of as you age.

"there you are!" he exclaims, slamming a large hand onto your shoulder. "been looking for you since i arrived. wanted to thank you for your smart thinking on the mission."

your cheeks flare up at the sudden, very masculine attention. "thank you, lieutenant, but i just did what i had to. i didn't put much thought into it, i just —"

he shuts you up quick, pinching two fingers in front of your face with a grin.

"i'm johnny tonight," he starts with. "and don't downplay yourself. you're one incredible little firecracker." and with that, he provides another reassuring slap to the arm before pivoting and returning to the center of the party, where more people were bound to interact.

the interaction was so platonic, so casual, but your head felt fuzzy. any attention from johnny sent you reeling despite your most professional attempts to keep it under wraps. you wanted to dump your wine onto the floor, but dammit, it was actually pretty expensive courtesy of johnny.

most of the night didn't really happen in your memory, you were in and out as you enjoyed probably more alcohol than intended. perhaps you were trying to drown your embarrassment. tragically for the party, you were a quiet, sleepy drunk. and johnny of all people noticed your gentle swaying before anyone else.

"hey hun, you doing okay?" he asks, a small slur in his own voice as well. he leans down to inspect you, a strong hand holding your arm. "you look like you're ready to fall over." it took a good amount of strength to not let a little moan out at how good he smelled, even when mixed in with alcohol.

you rub your eyes with a small "mhm," not really paying much attention to your surroundings. johnny was having none of it.

"i know i told everyone to party hard, but i think you've had enough, doll," johnny admits, hands on his hips. "how about you retire to your quarters?"

you want to nod, you want to be curled up in your bed and dreaming but you honestly struggled to recall the map to your quarters. you were in a large common room, that much you knew. but when it came to stumbling your way back, it felt like traversing the jungle. johnny noticed your hesitation.

"here, come on," he holds his arm out, in that helpful fatherly way he adopted after having cassie. although he could be an egotistical pain in the ass, he still knew how to flip the switch and be a useful member of the special forces. your wrap your arms around his, drunkenly flustering yourself with the side of his bicep. you almost blurt out how much you'd like to take a bite out of it, but you thankfully hold your tongue.

the walk felt impossibly long to the both of you, the only noise being his boots and your own heeled shoes. johnny looks down at you with a weak smile.

"you look nice," he compliments, admiring your figure in your outfit. "don't think i've ever seen you in civilian clothes before." instinctively, your face slams into his arm, concealing your flushed face. he jumps, eyebrows shooting up. "oh, not great with compliments, huh?"

oh my god, dude. this is your boss. your boss is complimenting you privately. he's walking you to your room. out of all of the other members, he knows where your room is?? you feel yourself sobering up in horror, but all you can do is squeak out an "mm-mm," into the fabric of his sleeve. he chuckles lowly.

"that's alright," he reassures you with a loose grin. "can you stay upright for me?" his request feels suddenly entirely possible. yes, he's your boss, but if he asked you to jump you'd ask how high. you'd probably agree to several crimes if he asked in that sultry voice of his. your back involuntarily straightens at his minor request, and he chuckles again. "good girl, there we go."

his words feel like the world's hottest spell. it's like his voice is the only thing to come through in your screaming mind, interjecting any dirty thoughts that could possibly be conjured up inside.

after however long it might've been, you're standing at your door with johnny looming behind you. noticing you're too drunk and flustered to move on your own, he reaches around you and opens your door for you, ushering you in by the small of your back. a back that might split in two if he was any rougher.

"you need me to tuck you in?" he asks teasingly, seating you on your bed and standing over you. his hand finds its way to the top of your head, stroking with the length of your hair. your head tilts up to look at him through fluttering lashes, a harsh shake of your head telling him you were a big girl, you could do it on your own.

"good girl."

and there it was again, that heat curling into your stomach at his words. he used that phrase rarely, very rarely in training. johnny knew of the connotation of the phrase, sure he did. but your mind was so foggy, you couldn't determine if it was an intentional usage or not. you could only take it for what it was.

the silence seemed to be a response in itself. he pats your thigh, standing upright fully.

"right. well, best get to bed," he insists coolly. his tone sounds restrained, distant. like he's trying to stay calm. you can't argue or protest, just hum in response. he checks behind him one last time before shutting the door and leaving you to flail in your blankets.

are you that drunk to think he's flirting with you? is HE that drunk to flirt with you? of course, in your twisted, distorted mind, this was an indicator that not only was he flirting with you, he wanted you biblically. carnally. whatever other word you could pull from your dulled brain.

the sensations he had left behind, his lingering scent, you were starting to lose it. even sitting upright, your hand dove under your pants and lazily played with yourself, trying to relieve the part embarrassment and part lust you felt from his presence.

in the heat of your masturbation, your horniness spoke to you like a devil on your shoulder, telling you to show him how good it was feeling. so, like a fool, you snapped a shaky video of yourself. you laid on your back and continued to massage your clit in slow, tender circles, enough to hopefully send him into shock.

you find his contact easily, considering you often searched for it and debated texting him outside of work hours. but now, that anxiety was gone, and you sent the video with no shame, captioning it with as flirty of a message you could type.

"m still thinkinf of yuo" was your best attempt so you settled with it. johnny didn't open it, considering he was at a party and likely too busy to check his phone. in your imagination however, it felt like a game to see how many times you could text him and still not get a response. so, you sent another.

you pulled your shirt up, letting your breasts ripple freely with each tug and pinch of your nipple. your drunken whines were barely audible unless the volume was on full blast. you sent it without shame.

"woulf feel bettre with yhor hands."

as a final attempt to get his attention, you type out a firm and blunt confession, one that you would have never thought to type in a million years. damn his pricey wine!!

"i need you"

at this message, he finally opens it and the read receipt makes you nauseous. could you lose your job over this? probably. johnny takes a looooong time to reply, though his message is short.

"sweetheart." that's all it says, and you can't make out the tone. condescending? encouraging? your conclusion is even more vague at his next message. "you're drunk. please get some rest."

if there's anything the special forces taught you, it's that you don't back down from a fight. so, you lazily shimmy your pants further down to get a juicier view of your sloppy pussy, dragging a thin line of your fluids to snap a photo of.

"cant hepl it," you text back. "need yoy all the timr"

"do i need to come in there and put you to bed myself so you stop sending those pictures?"

you swallow dryly. shit. maybe this isn't the best approach. he seems frustrated, annoyed with your pushy behavior. or maybe, and the thought makes you grin wickedly, maybe johnny wants to put you in your place the way you dream about.

"maybe," you add a tongue out emoji for extra measures. johnny reads it, but doesn't reply.

several minutes fly by as you're lazily toying with yourself, chasing the high that might've been a bad idea in hindsight. you'll worry about it when you're sober.

boots echo down the hallway. a master key jingles in your doorknob. you don't think to remove your hand from under your pants, instead craning your neck to see what the deal was.

the door slowly swings open, and johnny's silhouette is massive in the doorway. his breathing is heavy. his fists are clenched. a sight so beautiful in your drunk mind that you can't help but widen your legs ever so slightly. he seemingly twitches in response.

"lieutenant," you breathe out, your circular motions on your clit speeding up. johnny can only shush you before making quick strides to your side, slamming your thighs together with a deep sigh.

"bed," he commands darkly, voice sounding stern, but not in the way he'd act around the trainees. "now."

"mm," you whine, trying to reopen your legs but his hands clasp your knees harshly. "i was close." he sighs again, placing his forehead on your knees.

"doll," he warns you again. "i'm not asking."

"did you like the videos?" you slur out, bringing your fingers to your lips to nervously fiddle with them. "i made them for you."

he exhales sharply, sounding more like a frustrated hiss. "that's not—"

"did you like seeing me touch myself to you?" this brazen attitude comes out of left field for you. it was like your mind and body were on autopilot.

"you're playing a dangerous game."

"i know."

johnny tries to avert his eyes from you, but they can only fall to your wetness coating your thighs.

"jesus..." he mutters, tilting his head to get a better look. "doll, you're soaked."

"because of you."

"is that so?"

slowly, tenderly, he reopens your thighs with a palm on each leg. your cunt is on full display, soaked and aching from the previous pleasure. as if it was the only logical way to approach this, johnny's hand lowers to your core, swiping a thumb across your folds and making you jump. his eyes are glassy, like he's not in control of his actions. his jaw is tense.

"god, i..." his thumb pulls away and you writhe. "i shouldn't. we can't."

"why not?" your voice is whiny, needy for more.

"i'm your boss, doll."

"that makes it more exciting."

"if anyone finds out—"

"they won't."

his inner turmoil fizzes away when he catches another glance at your pussy, shiny and slick with need for him and him only. his thumb returns, darting straight to your clit to rub circles with his calloused fingerprint.

"i'm not gonna fuck you," he mutters, transfixed on the sight below him. you feel tears prick in the corners of your eyes when you can only weakly ask why not. he takes a moment to reply. "because i wouldn't be able to control myself."

johnny's fingers pick up the pace, now creating an obscene slick noise from your cunt with his fingers. he toys with your sensitive bud, relishing in the way you squirm and flush from his hands alone. his dick twitches eagerly with each moan you spill, and he thinks to himself that he'd rather enjoy making you scream from his dick. perhaps next time.

"johnny—" you whimper, hands digging into his forearm. "please, i— 'm close." you wish you hadn't gotten yourself a head start, so maybe it would last longer.

"mm?" his voice feels far away, not really listening to your warning as his brutal pace goes unfaltered.

"johnny," you try to warn him again, needier this time. your volume increases. he holds a hand down on your stomach, flat to keep you from escaping his touch.

his fingers spread your folds apart as he gets full access to your clit. his lips part to groan at the pretty sight, and the way his motions become sloppy as he loses traction and slips across your folds. as your lips part to let out a needy cry, he leans forward from between your legs and firmly slams his lips against yours, swallowing every attempt of a moan you could make. it's his warm, wet lips that send you over the edge, one that he rubs you right through. as you throw your head back and disconnect your lips, he buries his face in your neck to take in your scent.

"good girl..." johnny gently encourages you as you ride out your orgasm. now weakly spasming and fluttering around nothing. "you're alright, i've got you."

after some time of you laying seemingly lifeless, he removes his fingers from your soaking pussy. from how hard you came with his fingers alone, you wanted to feel embarrassed, but you were instead in a dumb bliss.

johnny sits up again, wrapping his lips around his fingers to clean the mess you made on him. his eyes flutter shut at your taste. his other hand falls to his cock, shamelessly readjusting the thick tent you created to avoid suspicion. your head falls forward again to get a hazy look at his form hovering above you.

"get some rest," he quietly asks, glancing to the door to ensure nobody heard. "i'd... like to have a word with you. in my office. tomorrow."