#one day I’m going to leave you and get that best buy rewards card
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I’m rewatching the John Mulaney Kid Gorgeous comedy special, and I wonder…
Did he ever get that Best Buy Rewards card?
#to explain the joke#he says as a joke#one day I’m going to leave you and get that best buy rewards card#in reference to his wife and a situation at Best Buy#and now he’s left her#so you see where I’m going#john mulaney#kid gorgeous#John mulaney kid gorgeous#comedy#stand up
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐘𝐄𝐑!𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐘 | 02.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ PART ONE
꒰ ♡ ꒱ lawyer!abby doesn’t care how expensive something is, if she sees you looking at something for a little longer but refuses to pick it up or mention that you like it, she’s already making a mental note in her head to come and pick it up when you’ve wandered off into another store so she can buy it for you and gift it once the pair of you get back home.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ lawyer!abby gets a little agitated in the early hours of the morning when she’s trying to get ready for work, and she almost starts fighting with her tie because she simply can’t do it sometimes with how tired she feels. After all, she’s still trying to wake herself up. So she enjoys it when you stumble out of bed, grumbling and muttering under your breath before wrapping your hands around the expensive item and tugging it just slightly. “You’ve been a lawyer for 5 years, Abigail, you know how to tie a tie” she knows, but she just loves watching you do it.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ lawyer!abby loves─ won't openly admit it, but she loves it when she comes home to find you secretly, without her knowledge, trying on her suit jackets. There’s something about seeing you in nothing but your thin panties and a piece of her clothing that always has her brain in overdrive.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ lawyer!abby wears her strap to any work event, especially when she knows you're gonna be her plus one. She's always risky with it, pressing herself into your back while she has her arm wrapped around your waist, the feeling of the bulge in her pants pressing right against your ass. “Been such a good girl for me tonight, gonna reward you so well, baby” she'd whisper quietly into your ear before excusing herself to join another conversation.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ lawyer!abby comes home exhausted most nights that she can barely take her clothes off because she simply doesn't have the energy to do anything else but slump herself onto the bed, watching silently as you walk around the room, telling her about your day while she's just staring at you.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ lawyer!abby who will have you riding her strap that same night, still in her suit while you’re completely naked above her. Lips wrapped around your nipple and her fingers rubbing circles on your clit. Drives her crazy when you start tugging on her tie, doing your best to pull it off and messily trying to unbutton her shirt. “can barely fuckin’ focus on that when i’m fucking you this dumb, huh?”
꒰ ♡ ꒱ lawyer!abby without a doubt will leave her credit card on the nightstand for you if she has to go away on a business trip for a few days. Abby doesn’t care how much you spend or where you spend it, as long as you're having fun and being safe.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ lawyer!abby who’s fucked you on the desk in her office on multiple occasions when she’s working late. Both of those time she missed dinner, being the girlfriend you are, brought it to her instead. You thought nothing of her sudden demeanour change once she ate, and you certainly didn’t mind when she had you perched on the top of her desk and face buried between your thighs for what felt like hours.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ lawyer!abby wakes you up with kisses against your shoulder and neck when you both have a day off. She can’t get over how warm you are in the mornings that all she can do is hold you tighter in her arms and give you every single kiss possible.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ lawyer!abby tells you she loves you every morning, even if you’re still asleep. Once more, before she leaves for work. She’ll call you on her lunch break just to let you know how much she loves and adores you. And finally, she will tell you just before you both fall asleep. It’s a lot, but you cherish every time.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ lawyer!abby spoils you rotten but loves you unconditionally.
#lawyer!abby#modern!abby#abby anderson#abby anderson headcanons#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson tlou2
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♫ Guitarist! Matt ♫ Head-canons
pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
warnings: sfw, fluff, brief mention of blood
summary: what it’s like to date matt when he’s a guitarist!
notes: first actual post so bear with me if it’s lowkey ass. thinking about making dummer!chris head-canons so lmk if you’d like that!
dialogue color guide!
pink: you blue: matt
WC: 790
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♪ takes his practice VERY seriously. he usually practices with chris in his room when they wanna learn a song together but if he’s not in his room, he’s chilling with you in y’all’s room.
♪ he would spend hours on end attempting to learn a single song or riff. (especially if he’s learning one of your favorite songs or if you gave him a recommendation. he wants to give you the best yk) you have to force him to take breaks sometimes because he just refuses to stop until he gets it perfect.
“baby, I think you should take a little break. you seem a little too worked up over this.”
“i’m almost there! i just need to get this riff down.”
♪ you’ve had to take the guitar away from him when he was playing so much to the point that his fingers were bleeding. he ends up putting up a fight every time and reassures you that it doesn’t hurt at all.
“matt, blood is on your strings. how does that not hurt?”
“it’s natural, love! i’m used to it, don’t worry. If i was in pain, i would’ve stopped by now.”
“let me clean your fingers up at least.”
♪ he then allows you to drag him to the bathroom to help clean up his fingers. winces every time your brush over the blisters with rubbing alcohol, which earns a light scolding from you telling him that he should pay more attention to what he’s doing.
♪ gets so excited when you tell him that you wanna learn. he doesn’t allow you to find another guitar teacher since he’s right there.
♪ when he’s teaching you, you’re sitting on his lap with his guitar on your thighs. he takes his hand in yours and gently walks you through each chord. (uses this as an excuse to hold your hand)
bonus! gives you a small kiss on the neck or cheek whenever you strum a chord correctly. he loves to see you get flustered when he does it.
♪ you stay up with him pretty late to watch him play. you often fall asleep when he plays slow songs. shits just so calming.
♪ you enjoy kissing him on the lips, forehead, and cheek when he successfully plays through a song he’s been struggling with as a little reward. the faint blush on his cheeks that follows is absolutely adorable and you tend to tease him a little about it.
♪ you’re his no1 fan when he records covers for his instagram and tiktok. when he finally posts the cover, you’re the first to hype him up and comment on how amazing he did. (the fans adore how supportive you are)
♪ when he’s in a clingy mood and needs to practice, he’s lying against you while you sit up or sitting on your lap. as he plays, you card your fingers through his hair, massage his scalp, and rub his shoulders. he gets so relaxed by your touch that he ends up ditching his practice to nap against you.
“what about your practice? you’ve been complaining all day that you need to get this song down before tomorrow.”
“too tired, it can wait. can you keep going please? i love when you play with my hair.”
♪ enjoys when he asks for a kiss every time he plays something correctly. even if he already had the song down, he demands for a kiss from you to keep him “motivated.”
“please love? just one more kiss.”
“baby, i played the riff right. don’t you think i need a little reward?”
♪ when you’re struggling to fall asleep, he plays a soft tune on his guitar to lull you to sleep. it works EVERY time.
♪ you love going to the music store with him and watching him geek out over guitars. (y’all end up leaving with him buying a new guitar and gear)
♪ you comment on how you think a certain guitar is pretty? he’s buying it right then and there and is playing it until it breaks or you say another one is nice.
♪ you find this hobby of his SO attractive. like yes, you deeply enjoy listening to him play but watching how his long and slim fingers dance once the fret and strings just causes you to freak out a little. you’re a mess when he’s in an all black outfit and is lazily strumming his guitar. he just looks so good ?!? (he ends up teasing you when he catches you staring at him with rosy cheeks)
♪ sometimes plays so loud to the point that nick has to yell at him to turn it down before they get another noise complaint.
#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo#matt x reader#guitarist! matt#matt sturniolo headcanon#chris sturniolo#chris x reader#chris sturniolo fanfic#nick x reader#nick sturniolo#nick sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo fandom
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hi lovely<3 5 (holiday sweaters) w remus🥹
2023 Holiday Blurbs
It was fairly obvious to everyone who met him that Remus Lupin was a lover of sweaters, and you, who saw his closet every day, are able to confirm this as a fact. It didn’t matter if they were worn in or hand made, old or expensive, 6 years old or 6 months old, Remus loved to wear a sweater. It was practically his uniform in the colder months at this point, regardless of what the day would bring.
Despite all this, he wasn’t a fan of holiday sweaters.
It didn’t matter who tried to convince him to buy a silly, matching holiday sweater, he always refused. There had been one time, a few years back, when James had a brilliant idea for a group holiday card, and he and Sirius practically had to wrestle Remus into the ridiculous sweater they picked out for him. In the end, he didn’t even wear it, and James scrambled to come up with a new card idea.
“C’mon, please?” You tried your best to make your eyes as wide as possible, seconds away from jutting out your lower lip as Remus crossed his arms by the shopping cart. You had gasped and run ahead when you noticed the display of matching sweaters, all in corresponding colors and varying degrees of insanity and ugliness. You thought it was a cute tradition, and your entire goal for the holiday season was to get Remus to wear one with you.
So far, you had been far from successful.
With the two hangers in your hands, you gave your best dramatic sigh, hanging your head and beginning a slow trudge back to the display. It really wasn’t that big of a deal, and you’d never make Remus do something he wasn’t comfortable with, but all you wanted was for him to explain his disdain for the goofy holiday sweaters. You take your time hanging them back up, wanting to give Remus ample time to come up with a reason why he insists on being such a Scrooge.
If you know him at all, you know he won’t say anything and will continue on with the shopping trip, letting your mind run wild until you finally snap hours later and ask him why it bothers him so much. Unsurprisingly, that’s exactly what happens, and the curiosity gets the better of you while he’s making dinner.
“Why do you hate them so much?” You ask, coming around to wrap your arms around his middle and lay your head against his shoulders as he stirs something on the stove. He just hums in response, a noise you feel more than hear, and you know him well enough to know what it means. “The holiday sweaters,” you clarify, rewarded with a hum of understanding.
“I don’t hate them at all,” he answers and you unlatch your arms, stepping away from Remus as you grapple with his response.
“Then why do you always put up such a fight?” You question, beyond confused and desperate to get to the bottom of this.
“It’s fun,” he shrugs, before laughing at the confused expression that’s been occupying your face for most of the day. He tugs you towards him, still laughing, “It’s funnier with James and Sirius, but you always get this adorable little pout whenever you try and convince me, and I’m not ready to let that go.”
“Then I’m not ready to stop convincing you,” you place a kiss to his cheek before leaving the kitchen, already coming up with new ways to get him into one of those garish sweaters.
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin fanfiction#young remus lupin#young remus x reader#young marauders
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Escort To The Multiverse (X Reader) Chapter Eleven - I´m Not Dipping My Dick In His Leftovers!
You still think about Steve, when you close the door behind you in your apartment. You can’t quite shake the feeling that there is something special about him. Something different. You’re usually a person that figures people out quite fast. But this guy… This guy, you can’t figure him out.
You open your laptop and Google «Non Disclosure Agreement"
«A confidentiality agreement (also called a nondisclosure agreement or NDA) is a legally binding contract in which a person or business promises to treat specific information as a trade secret and promises not to disclose the secret to others without proper authorization.»
Yeah. Well, you’re not the kinda person who broadcasts that you work in the Escort business. So this won’t be hard to do. It’s not like you’re planning on going to the grocery store and be like «Hey, I’m fucking SHIELD Agents». Or, well. To be honest, they are the ones fucking you. Or, did Alexander mean something else with this contract?
You’re not working for SHIELD exactly. You just provide a service. So what is this specific information that is mentioned? And what kind of trade secrets can you possibly get to know? It’s not like you have access to their computer systems or anything. And you can’t imagine Rollins and Rumlow will ever leave you alone inside the building, other than the elevator.
You really don’t want to think about this, you’ll probably never find the answers anyway. So you spend the rest of the day, going trough your clothes and your make up. Searching on line for new stuff to buy. Deciding on what’s best to use for this high end job you just got.
——————————-
The following Friday, you once again show up at the SHIELD building. This time you have a code you use on the panel by the door, and you get yourself up to the 14th floor. When you reach the door, you can hear Rollins and Rumlow inside. You don’t know why, but it’s something in their voices that intrigues you. So instead of knocking, you press your ear up against the door, and listen in.
– I don’t know Rumlow. Do you think that’s a good idea? It’s only her second time. And we’ve already scared away two of them before!
Her? Are they talking about you? You try to be as quiet as possible, and continue to listen to them.
– She is the only one who’s coming back for a second serving. She can take it. And it could be fun?
You swallow. What the hell are they planning to do to you? Should you leave?
– Fun? I thought we were the ones who was gonna have fun with her. How could this be fun for us?
What the fuck? Are they bringing in another Agent as well? How is this going to end? A SHIELD orgy isn’t exactly what you signed up for.
– Come on, Rollins! We can watch. We can hold her down. And we can have her afterwards.
– Before, Rumlow. We’ll have her before. I’m not dipping my dick in his leftovers.
You don’t understand a single thing. Are they bringing in another Agent they don’t like? Why the hell would they do that? Is it like to make fun of someone with a small dick, or someone who hasn’t done it before? Someone they know can’t make you come like they did?
– Fine! Before! We can warm her up first. Make it a bit easier for him. The mission he’s about to go on, requiers loyalty from his side. We need him back.
Aha.. That explanes a lot. A disloyal Agent, or at least an agent they believe to be disloyal. And they are going to use you, as what? Bait? Reward? Dangle you in front of his face, and threaten to take you away if he doesn’t follow orders. Can you do that? Are you prepared to let them do that to you? 70%, YN! You can do this for 70%, and a company card. 70% means you can cut off some of the sleazy clients, you really don’t like. Although these Agent guys are rough and scary at times. They are the most good looking clients you have. Yes! You can do this. You just hope that disloyal Agent is just as good looking as them.
– Do you think he’ll be able to do it?
– What do you mean, Rollins? Will he be able to fuck her?
– Yes, Rumlow! He probably haven’t had a hard on for years!
– Well if not, she can probably teach him a trick or ten. She was good, Rollins. You know that!
Wow, you were good? They actually said that to each other? You never thought about that before, if you were good or not. You usually just show up, do the stuff they want you to do, and then leave. And you always, ALWAYS fake it. But you didn’t with them. Is that why you were good? No! Most of your clients are regulars, maybe you’re always good. Or maybe they just don’t care. As long as they get a hard on, get sucked off, or a hole to put it in.
– Of course I know that, Rumlow. I just don’t get why we are going to GIVE her to HIM. What has he ever done to deserve her?
Rollins seems to have a hate towards this other Agent. And your curiosity wants to know why. Do they know you’ve arrived? Can you continue to listen in, or will they start to look for you?
– We’re not going to give her to him. We’ll be in charge the whole time. We’re not going to leave her there!
There? Where is there? There is no way in hell you’re leaving the SHIELD building with them. In fact, you’re not allowed to. The madam has strict rules about stuff like that. She wants to know where you are, when you do a job. Stories about escorts being kidnapped and killed goes around. And these rules are for your safety. If you break the rules, you can get fired. The madam is adamant about your safety on the job.
– You’re the boss Rumlow. But I’m still not thrilled!
– You will be, when you get to watch the show.
Oh, so you were right. Rumlow is the boss. That’s what you thought after last time. Although Rollins has a rougher look, Rumlow seems more like the boss type.
– And well, if you don’t want to dip your cock in his leftovers, we can always give her the reward she deserves in the shower. Wash him off her…
Jesus fucking God. They are standing in there, planning the night with you down to the teeth. Did they have a plan last time too? You’re not afraid of them anymore, like you were last time. They both turned out to be pretty nice. But this new person they’re talking about, makes you a little nervous. And you don’t know how you feel about being used like this. Like a reward, a threat…
– Shower sex is my favorite.
– Yeah? Maybe it’s hers too!
Rollins laughs a bit.
– To me it kinda looked like she enjoyed the pain we put her through last time.
– Who said we can’t inflict pain in the shower?
OK, you’ve heard enough. You already know this night will be painful. It’s not your first visit here. And it’s better if you don’t know everything. You take a deep breath, before you knock on the door.
@nekoannie-chan @late-to-the-party-81 @randomlittleimp @here4thefanfics
Check out the Escort To The Multiverse Masterlist HERE!
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#jack rollins#brock rumlow x you#brock rumlow x reader#brockrumlowsmut#brockrumlowfic#brock rumlow#jack rollins x reader#jack rollins smut
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Felt like crying, so I came to you, my friend! Mc and Mammon went out shopping, specifically to buy gifts for his brothers, as an apology. When they get back home they are met with hostility. They berate Mammon until Mc screams at them to shut up, then rips into each of them for their treatment of Mammon. Then finishes with "Don't expect Mammon to stay here when he can live with me in the humanworld. I'm done with you. Mammon, lets go, you deserve better, love" and leaves w/ Mammon. Thank you!
You came to me because you felt like crying and that gives me two (2) things to think about. 1.) I'm apparently someone who people see as a tissue? 2.) My angst is just THAT good. Also! Apparently today is rain on Mammon day and I'm here for it not me avoiding my exam to write these things
Warning: uh.... Angst?
Soul-Searching (MAMMON X GN!READER ft. THE BROTHERS)
“You know, I’m proud of you for suggesting this.” Truly, you were. Mammon was your favorite and you felt for him, but you also completely understood where his brothers came from. At first, it honestly annoyed you as well; the constant stealing, the lying… You tried blaming it on his avatar, but even then it doesn’t explain the lying that comes with it. However, you do realize that it’s a habit and it’s a habit that is hard to fix, so instead of constantly getting onto him like the rest, you tried to understand him a bit more and give him some life advice. So far, you have managed to get Mammon to give back all the things he has recently taken from his brothers, and some of them even got an apology. You’ll be working on how to properly apologize, though, because oof, that was a mess.
And now? Now you managed to take a small trip with him downtown to at least attempt to make things better. Mammon is now, or at least today, using his own money to buy some things that his brothers would be fond of: a new vinyl player for Lucifer (non-cursed), a new Ruri-chan t-shirt for Leviathan, a neck pillow for Satan because lord knows he has some cramps back there with the way he leans over and down to read his books. Then some perfume for Asmodeus that he had been swooning about, a gift card to Beel’s favorite restaurant for the glutton, and a heated blanket for Belphie. You were proud, truly, that Mammon wanted to do this. As a matter of fact, he was the one who suggested it. “Maybe… uh.. I could… ya know… buy somethin’ they like” is what he said. You were just excited and agreed to help.
Now you were going back to the house with a few shopping bags and ice cream almost fully eaten. You paid for the ice cream, as a way to reward Mammon, and you’re sure he’s secretly thanking you for that because some of these items truly did burn a hole into his credit card, which is partially his fault. “Lucifer deserves more than some random vinyl player.” his words, not yours. Also “satan needs one of them neck pillows that massage it, too!” again, his words. So yeah, some money was definitely spent on these items, but… once again, you were proud. “I think they’ll love everything, Mam. They’d be fools if they didn’t.” Hearing you say that made Mammon feel a lot better, honestly, and a small rush of confidence came to the surface “Ya betcha they will! Nothin’ but the best from the Great Mammon!” You just laughed.
However, upon arrival, it was a different sight. As a matter of fact, you barely made it through the door before Beel was grumbling something about Mammon eating his custard, which is true, but it’s just a custard? “MAAMMMOONNN!!” and then there was Lucifer who appeared so fast you wondered if he was even real. He went on a whole rant about how irresponsible Mammon is and how another bill came in the mail that talks about Mammon’s debt. Satan and Belphegor teamed up to show empty hands, which left both you and Mammon confused, but then “do you see anything here? No? That’s because you sold our belongings, Mammon!” Mammon can be lucky that Leviathan was still holed up in his room because he just remembered that he also, at some point in the past, sold one of Levi’s figures. Asmodeus came last and honestly he wasn’t mad, he was just annoyed. “I saw you go through my things, Mammon. Nothing was taken, but it was still so incredibly rude!”
Next followed a screaming match which was basically just Mammon trying to defend himself, trying to show the bags and apologize, but none of them would have it. It irritated you. Yes, they had every right to be mad because personal belongings should stay with their owner(s), but at the same time, they didn’t even give Mammon a chance to explain, especially after he’s been holding the bags up and attempting to apologize. “You’re so stupid, Mammon” “StupidMammon” “so irresponsible. You know better than that. Do you need another time out session, Mammon?” “I can’t believe you’d go through my stuff again!” by now your eyes were twitching and the voices echoing off the walls surely didn’t help your case. One more word and you’d snap, surely, especially since Mammon’s hand is now shaking and you grabbing it did nothing at all. “We would be better off without you.”
Ah yes, there it is. The final straw. The amount of anger boiling inside you right now isn’t even manageable anymore and you’re surprised that Satan, as the Avatar of Wrath, has yet to notice it. “Shut up! Shut up, Shut up, Shut up! All of you!” You yanked Mammon behind you, almost protectively and Belphegor found the need to laugh at it. “Really? You’re going to protect him?” Oh, there. That’s your first victim. “Are you really that dense, Belphegor, or is sleep still clouding your brain cells? That is your brother you’re currently making fun of and I don’t know about you, but I was taught that family sticks together, blood related or by choice. So how about you get your head out of dreamland, take this stupid heated blanket that he bought for you, as an apology, and wake up for a second.” yes, you did throw the bag at him and then you pointed your finger at Beel. You’d regret later on that you’re tearing into him as well because Beel means well at the end of the day, but still, he was also part of this.
“You’re my least worry, Beel. Honestly you’re too caught up in your burgers and brawns to care for a second that your brother tries very hard to be liked by all of you. Sad, really.” you threw the card at him too. As a matter of fact, you threw all of the bags right in front of them. “And then Asmo.. oh my God, first of all, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Shocker, I know. If you were half as empathetic toward your family as you are obsessed with yourself, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to always go party and drink your life away. Oh, I’m sorry, did that hit just a little too hard? Can’t be harder than the hangovers you wake up with on a regular basis.” You glared at him before turning your attention to Satan. “Honestly, if you weren’t such a baby inside I may actually be scared of you. You always complain about how stupid he is, how he needs to just learn, but you? What do you do all day? You hole yourself up in your room and read about worlds that you wish you could enter. News flash: you’d die before you had the chance to say hello. People don’t like self-proclaimed assholes. Mammon IS smart. He’s very talented, too, but you’re too far up in Shakespeare’s ass that you fail to realize that everyone has knowledge in different fields of life. Give me a break.”
Satan was about to retort but you already moved on to Levi. “and you! Let’s be honest, if it weren’t for you wallowing in self-pity and fake depression, you would have absolutely no personality traits. What are you again? The Avatar of Envy? How about instead of being envious of others’ accomplishments, you actually start working on yourself. It’s truly pathetic that a couple millenia old demon’s only purpose in life is ramen and self inflicted emotional pain. Seriously, what are you? A pitiful loner? I can’t even begin to empathize with you in any way, shape, or form.” Your blood was boiling right now and maybe if they hadn’t attacked Mammon like they did, you would’ve felt bad about Levi’s sad face right now, but there was still one person left to deal with.”
“And you… beautiful, responsible, way-too-good-for-you older brother, Lucifer.” He’s been glaring at you this whole time, arms crossed over his chest but you stood your ground. You’re not quite sure how you managed, but you did. “You call yourself the best, the most responsible. You constantly say this family would fall apart without you, but that’s not it, is it? I think you’re just lonely. You force these six to be by you, to respect you and borderline worship you. Not because you deserve it…” you chuckled, shaking your head, “no. You’re just so sad that Daddy and Michael left you, mocked you, that you turned your sadness into anger and took it out on these six, but especially Mammon. Why? Because you see yourself in him. You call him your favorite brother, but it’s not because he actually is… he just reminds you of everything you used to be: fun, reckless, and feeling. Now you’re just cold, mean, and bitter. Don’t bother calling yourself the mighty first because without him you would be neither. Maybe if you pulled that stick out of your arse and actually tried to get to know your brothers, maybe you wouldn’t be so lonely all the time. Family, right? That’s what you want. How about you start acting like one.”
You shook your head after that, grabbing Mammon’s hand and kicking the bags in front of you before dragging Mammon back out the door. “Those are for you, by the way. Not that you deserve them, but they’re Mammon’s way of apologizing for all the things you accused him of the minute he set foot into the house. Have fun. We’re going to the castle and, if we’re lucky, to a real home.”
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios#mammon obey me#mammon#mammon avatar of greed#shall we date mammon#obey me mammon x reader#obey me mammon#asmodeus obey me#belphegor obey me#obey me lucifer#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me beelzebub#tw angst
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Unbreakable Bond
(A/N): This is based on this post and this tiktok
Summary: A big age gap between Aaron's children doesn't have to mean that they are unable to form a strong bond
Warnings: Mentions of Haley's death and failed relationships
Wordcount: 1.8k
✨Masterlist✨
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His life took turns Aaron never expected. It’s not the “Oh, mh, well that was unexpected”-type of turns, I talk about the “God played Cards Against Humanity with angels and decided to make it happen for someone”-type. But looking back he would not want to change a thing.
After Haley and Beth he was convinced that God, the Universe, something out there shared the opinion that romantic love isn’t the right thing for him and Aaron accepted that fact. Even more when he and Jack went into witness protection. I mean, when you are worried about the life of your family being in danger because of a stalker, you don’t think about the beautiful neighbor, who lives next door, right? Right?
Well, without going into too much detail, Hotch did think about her and she about him and vice versa. Everything went good until Aaron received the message that the team found the stalker and that it was safe to come back. He decided to come clean to his girlfriend. They talked about the possibility of moving back to Quantico.
In the end they decided in favor of the move, the final argument was the surprising announcement of her being pregnant. Hotch wants to raise their youngest where his and Jack’s roots are located. But he decides against taking a position at the BAU, instead taking a desk job in order to be more at home. He also has the opportunity to work from home after little (Y/N) was born and continues to do so until she is old enough to go to Kindergarten. Even then he takes two days the week where he stays home. Aaron learned from his decisions and mistakes he made in the past and wants to live up to them and be a better father and husband than before.
And Hotch keeps it to this day, six years later. It’s (Y/N)’s first day of school, while Jack just graduated high school and goes off to college in a few weeks. Even though they have an age gap from twelve and a half years, their parents are sure there are no other siblings with such a strong bond.
Ever since his baby sister’s birth Jack is her biggest supporter, protector and friend. Her first word was his name, though it was more of a “ACK!”, but that’s the best nickname he ever got. As soon as (Y/N) was old enough to comprehend the concept of movies, he introduced her to Star Wars. Since then lightsaber wars out of cardboard pipes are not uncommon. Last Halloween they even dressed up as Chewbakka and Han Solo. You get three guesses on who was who.
“JACK!” (Y/N) runs into her big brother’s room with an excited expression on her face. “Daddy promised to buy me a real lightsaber after I read ten books! With lights and sounds and all! Isn’t that cool?” Jack smiles. Aaron did a similar thing with him. For a certain amount of books he got a reward they discussed beforehand. This way he felt motivated to read and improved writing and reading skills.
“This is awesome. I think that means we have to go book shopping together, what do you think?” (Y/N) is not only the cool kid that has an older brother, she is also the cool kid, whose older brother has a drivers license, a car and a part time job. She nods with big eyes, speechless, because the offer sounds like heaven to her. Getting books and one on one time with Jack after he was really busy with school for weeks? This has to be heaven.
“Ok, then you put your outside clothes on and I’ll tell Dad about our plan.” At that the little girl rushes to her room, not wanting to waste any more time. Jack makes his way down to the kitchen, where Aaron wipes the table from lunch down.
“Dad, I take (Y/N) to this bookstore in DC and we’ll probably go eat ice cream after that. Is that alright?” Hotch looks up at his son. It still feels like yesterday as he told Haley that Gideon is a big no as a baby name. Now he is all grown up and just a few weeks away from the next big chapter in his life.
“Of course, just let me get my wall-” Jack cuts him off. “No need, I want to use this as a kind of goodbye thing. At least until Thanksgiving.” Aaron knows what he means. It’s his last day before he goes off to college and just a couple more until the first classes begin. The family still hasn’t told their youngest exactly what’s going on. Else she would refuse to go to school and go on with her day, insisting on using all the time they have until Jack drives off.
Two hours later the siblings leave the bookstore, both of them having a bag in their hands. Of course Jack's heavier, but both he and the cashier assured (Y/N) that they lift the same amount of weight.
“Uncle Spence will be excited when I tell him that I read Harry Potter, he told me so many good things about it”, the girl gushes. Jack nods, indicating that he is listening. Of course they also picked books that are not that advanced. Still, no sister of his shall grow up without knowing the beauty of the wizarding world. Also, secretly he is hoping for her to turn out as nerdy as he is so they get more things to talk about. His next step is superheroes, especially the Marvel ones.
They converse until they get to an ice cream parlor and order both their usuals. “Do you think you are ready for me to tell you something important?” The older one asks after they sit down at a table. (Y/N) nods, confusion taking over her face.
“Uhm, you know how I graduated from high school? I’m done with school, but I want to get a degree, but for that I have to go to college. It’s pretty far away so I can’t come home for a few months. But I’m back home when Thanksgiving is and also for Christmas.” It doesn’t matter what Jack says, a sad frown has formed on the little one’s face. “Oh. And after Christmas, will you leave again?” He nods and explains when he is off from college and when not.
“We can always skype and write letters. How does that sound? And when you get your first phone, we can even text.” That (Y/N) lights up a bit. For her first year of school she got a stationary set and is eager to use it to this day.
“I’m going to miss you so much”, she says hugging her big brother. Jack pats her back. “I’ll miss you, too.”
The goodbye the next day is a heartfelt matter. Everybody cries, especially (Y/N). She can’t fathom a scenario where her brother isn’t there for her all the time.
The following weeks are also hard for the family. The youngest refuses to sleep alone for the first three days after Jack’s leave. She is more closed off and mainly just does her school work or reads the books he bought for her. By the time Thanksgiving is only away for another two weeks, (Y/N) has read through all of them at least two times.
Her father already ordered the lightsaber he promised her. Unfortunately shipping takes several months, so the little girl still has to wait patiently for her reward to arrive. In the meantime she works on getting the next and she is already pretty close to the comic book collection she wants.
“Sweetheart, can you set the table, please? Your Mom will be here soon from grocery shopping and she will need help getting them from the car into the house”, Hotch calls for his daughter while stirring in a pot.
The little girl nods, putting her stationary set and pens aside to do as her father asked. She is in the middle of answering her brother’s last letter, telling him that she is now the one that usually has to read aloud for the class because of her advanced skill for a first grader.
Just as she sets the last piece of silverware down the doorbell rings. “Sweetie, can you please open it? This should be your mother.” Happily (Y/N) runs up and turns the door knob. Over the last few months she hit a small growing spurt and is finally tall enough to reach it without standing on her tippy toes.
“Mo-” She nearly chokes on her own saliva. The one at the door is definitely not her mother. “JACK!” (Y/N) runs up to him and jumps onto his leg. “Hey Princess. I thought now that you read your books, we need to hold the most amazing lightsaber fight in history.” With a mischievous smile he pulls two from his back, giving one to his baby sister.
It is the most epic fight in history between an elementary schooler and a college boy. They can only be stopped by their parents announcing that it is a tie between both of them and that they have to sit down, else the food gets cold.
The following weeks mostly consist of (Y/N)’s joyous laughs and cuddling with her big brother. She even insists on him sleeping with her in her much smaller bed. On his last night before going back to college, the little girl turns to him in the middle of watching her favorite movie in the living room.
“Do you promise not to forget me when you are away? Because I alway think about you and tell my friends so much about you. I told them you are a hero, my hero, just like Daddy. They wanna meet you because of that.” Jack has to hold back tears at her statement.
“I also think of you so much. All of my friends at college are pretty jealous of me having such a sweet baby sister. Maybe one time you can visit me and I can introduce you to them.” The thought of that makes (Y/N) smile and is a little consolation to the thought of her brother leaving again.
Aaron watches the interaction going down, happy to see the strong bond between his children, despite their age gap. This is nothing like he and Sean were and that is a relief for him and the worries he had in the beginning. It is a sign that he did do some things right as a father.
Taglist:
All works:
@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187
Criminal Minds:
@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner
#aaron hotch x child!reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x daughter!reader#aaron hotchner x daughter!reader#aaron hotchner x child!reader#jack hotchner#jack hotchner x sister!reader#jack hotchner x reader#x daughter!reader#x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotch#x child!reader
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—hawks ft. established relationship + dom!keigo + exhibition + overstim
rating: 18+
a/n: thank you so much to @ultimate-astridwriting for allowing me to be part of this collab !! it was the shove i needed to get back into the fandom. hawks has always been my favorite hero so i hope to do him justice.
➳ impatient collab masterlist
fist pressed against his cheek, he browsed over the sight before him, taking it all in without considering really any details. fighting a smirk, he cocked an eyebrow.
“i’m not feeling the color. change it for the other one.”
to be frank, he had no particular preferences for color, design, texture or any of that shit–though, he did have a weakness for anything with a pretty flare to it, the air of innocence that he loved to bathe you in with all the frills and fluff. however, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t fond of deciding which palettes suited you best. but he had a specific reason as to why he voiced that particular opinion of his.
sale’s representatives, all mascara-lined eyes and glossy lips, held your hands by your side in a surrendering position as they paraded you in front of your boyfriend as though this was his own private fashion show. and in a way it was, he’d spent good hard earned money renting out the area for a few hours. enjoying it all from his throne placed perfectly in front of the changing rooms, watching how you were dragged in and out by the forceful employees with him picking out what items you wore.
the clatter of the sale’s girls dragging you back in the changing room again, drew him from his thoughts. you were a flushed mess, struggling to wriggle away from their sharp nails while insisting that you could walk on your own. overall, you'd have been rather accommodating to his whims. but you always were. and as such a good girl, he would reward you for it. for now though, he couldn’t resist giving you a mocking smirk when you tried to grab him and failed miserably at that.
back to the prison of hands again, he noted, as they closed the door behind them and made a fuss over what you disliked and what he wanted. as more girls pecked at you to stay still while they taught you how to wear the clothing properly. outside, keigo waited patiently for them to be done as his eyes travelled from one end of the store to the other, looking at the fancy lingerie and wondering what would actually be perfect for you. but then again, to be painfully honest, you made anything here look good.
and then there's also another fact that he had to come to terms with.
he liked you best without anything on.
with only your bare skin, lying amidst the fluffy pillow with silken sheets tangled around your body. legs demurely spread, hands placed above your head and looking as though you were begging to be dominated. that was certainly the very image of excellence that any man could ever ask for. wanton eyes, warm cheeks, slightly parted lips, panting–ah, but you would gasp wordlessly as he’d stolen your voice many rounds prior. keeping his eyes peeled on the floor, the man shuddered briefly and rolled his shoulders back to remind himself that he was in a store and any further acts of indecency would totally be out of the question. especially when he remembered how you straddled him last night, thighs over his torso. sinking in inch by inch, throwing your head back when he bucked up a bit too hard on you–
"mr. hawks, what do you think of this?"
there you stood, with your hands still raised again, eyes watering under the torment of these awful ladies. biting your lips with warmth tainting your cheeks, hair cascading over your shoulders and meeting the body that was hugged by a pair of lingerie. strapless and curvaceous mounds of yours, covered with a brassiere. a matching panty, complete with small laces forming gathers on the hems as they trailed invitingly towards to garter at your thighs.
he stared.
and blinked.
only once.
"sir?" one of the older females repeated, raising her eyebrows. "…what do you think?"
trying to cover up the fact that his awkward silence was making the room uncomfortable with anticipation, keigo casually leaned backwards and crossed his legs together. his wings fluttered in reflection of his thoughts, rising and falling with each new epiphany. dark eyes walked all over your body, drinking in how your breasts were perfectly pressed together and how your legs trembled when his eyes stopped at the ribbons of the panty. finally hovering over your face, where when eyes met, your blush darkened and you immediately dropped your gaze to your bare feet. he smirked at that sinfully innocent reaction of yours.
coy today, were you not?
without skipping a beat, keigo drew out a card and threw it over to one of the sale’s girls, who fumbled as she tried to catch it with her clammy fingers. eyes still locked at your face, knowing that with his stare alone he was making you feel uncomfortable. and damn, he still loved seeing you squirm around like a virgin on her wedding night.
"i'm taking everything that she tried on just now," he answered loftily, still seated on the cushiony sofa, leaning his head against one arm and letting the other one tap rhythmically on the armrest. when the employees all squeaked out a pathetic noise of agreement, keigo allowed his lips to curve upwards in a smirk as he drawled out the next order; "charge what you need on it, i don't give a shit. and oh, and don't forget to charge what it takes to buy this section for another hour. turn off the surveillance too while you're at it because this area's mine from the time being."
needless to say, their faces instantly decolorized. but they wouldn’t challenge his demands. the brief raise of his massive scarlet wings was an unnecessary reminder as they stretch languidly without threat. he was a hero after all. who were they to challenge a frivolous form of stress relief?
he had no doubt that they had an inkling of what would occur over the next hour or so. but he was certain the gossip would get lost in the rumor mill.
hawks was a rather eccentric individual. what isn’t he up to these days?
keigo had never saw the staff evaporating and clearing the area within less than a minute as they closed off the doors behind them, leaving this particular section untouched for the next event that was about to take place.
it really did not make you feel any better though.
"little dove."
he watched as you jumped, realizing his attention was solely on you now. you raised your eyes to his again, locking eyes with deviously glinting ones. right now, at this moment, keigo knew how much power he held over you, and damn well he was about to abuse his privileges to no end. leaning snugly against the soft backing of the sofa, he cupped his chin with his palm and arrogantly raised an eyebrow when you shuddered under his disturbing gaze. you looked much as though you were lost and backed into a corner with nowhere else to go. keigo smirked; haughty, superior, dominating you single-handedly, and his other hand rose slightly from the armrest.
a single finger curled inwardly.
a low voice
commanding.
"come here, now"
you knew what came from that tone, but the words didn’t ignite the same spark as it did within the safe space of your home.
you only hesitated briefly, but it was still a second to long for his tastes as his lips already began curling down in disappointment. your heart rapped heedlessly against your ribcage, sent spiraling into an off-beat staccato as you quickly tried to alleviate the shift in mood.
never in your relationship had you considered denying keigo. not the man who laid out everything you could have asked for on a silver platter. it's just that-
your feet crossed the minimal distance necessary to appear agreeable though your face still twists in concern.
“really? …. you want to have sex …. here?”
fingertips grapple anxiously while your eyes dart across the empty but still very publicly accessible room.
“now?”
keigo already look bored with the exchange, digits curling once more with something just outside of patience.
“yes, now.”
his wings flex in consideration, yet he doesn’t move to rise form his seat. instead he changes tactics.
“i just want to show a bit of appreciation for all the pretty things i just bought you.’’
it sounds backwards … as if those should be the words coming out of your mouth not his. but the hint doesn’t come any stronger than the easy grin that spreads across his lips. he even makes a show of lounging back against the cushioned seat, body open in invitation should you dare.
and bite you did, teeth nibbling at the bait as you approach. keigo remains still, though his eyes dance with barely contained excitement as you gingerly crawl into his lap, fancy garments already rubbing enticingly against his thighs?.
the flap of his wings welcome gusts of winds and gratitude as his arms curl around you. the hand at your cheek tilts your head up to meet his gaze. it was always so easy for you to get lost in those specks of liquid gold. but now there was hardly any left to admire with the way his pupils were blown wide with lunch.
a shiver tickles your spine and you’re vaguely away that he’s kissing the line of your jaw, whispering soft words of encouragement as his hips raise to rock subtlety. it all left you shuddering in peaked anticipation as your worries melted into the recesses of your mind.
the hand cupping the roundness of your face stops you before you can lean in for more, the nose brushing against the tip of your nuzzling there in brief affection as he garnered the fraying tips of your attention. “yes?”
the fog of arousal abated a little at the question as your conscious thoughts swam back into the surface to input the code that would spiral you into your deepest desires.
“yes,” you verbally consented as you leaned up into him for a needy kiss. keigo swept his tongue out, meeting the the soft upper palate of your mouth with languid strokes. a rumbling trill greets you when you nibble in response. keigo eagerly chases you into a fevor of song and dance, building your body up to the inevitable fall he plans to send you crashing down in.
when he breaks the kiss, his eyes drop to the price tag still resting innocently against the swell of your bosom. he snaps it away from the fabric, uncaring of the threat against its delicacy as he tosses the flimsy paper to the side.
there were plenty more where it came from. and he was yearning to get the real show on the road.
“now then. how could i possibly show my thanks?”
nails dig into his shoulders for purchase as you rock traction into the firmness of his lap. keigo meets the upward curve of your hips with a sneaky dive of his hand between your thighs where his hand warms the skin there.
you expect him to dip right in, cognitive of the spare time the two of you had to play. but as a dangerous smile twists at his mouth, you realize this is hawks time, a reality that flows differently than everyone else’s.
“trying to decide if i want you to keep these on or not. “ he contemplates aloud, fingers plucking at the elastic.” i mean it would be a shame to leave them out.”
you nod mutely, ready to agree with whatever favored progression. keigo’s gaze narrowed at the silent insinuation “what? you want to make this into a quickie? but we have so many outfits to try.”
you already knew that, acutely aware of each and every article of clothing that had been zipped, tied or squeezed around your body. and you were grateful of each and every addition, would even gladly spend the next few weeks letting him fuck you in each variation against your shared mattress at home.
what you wanted now was for him to come so that you could start that private show within your own walls.
keigo chooses to go for an adorable pout, lips pulling on aged heart strings, yet managing to make them go taut all the same. he waits until your body soften from the tension, aiding the transition with slow strokes against your back and inner leg.
“one pair.”
it’s your back that losses his touch in order for him to bring a single finger in front of your face.
“let me ruin one pair with my come and we can call it quits.”
and you say okay. brining your pelvis back into an enticing dance as you meld that pout into an eager kiss. you were already dressed for the occasion and had all the tips and tricks in your inventory to help him reach his goal. one easy step and you could be on your way.
how naive you still were.
eight pair now. he’d brought you near completion just as many times before halting the grind of your hips with a frown. he mad for a rather convincing curator, inspecting each and every pair of to the finest thread.
‘too blue.’
‘too much lace.’
‘it just doesn’t feel right. ‘
‘why don’t we try something else?’
true to his word, keigo had been determined to find the perfect pair to meet him at the edge of nirvana, and dragged you from one painstakingly near orgasm to the next along the way.
"stop."
you whimpered desperately, pressing your forehead against his shoulder as you forced yourself to remain seated with him throbbing deeply within you. pulsing, hot, too hot. scorching you inwardly and causing strange sensations to sear through your veins. his hands were still on the armrest, they were not on you, they were not driving you crazy with their constant teasing and whatnot this time. because he was not doing anything to make you this crazy when you were already this crazy for him.
his lips smirked against the shell of your ear, a moist tongue peeking out to leave a wet trail. you fought every inch of yourself to stop your hips from moving again. because of his command, you could not move. you could not bring yourself to move. simply because it was his desire and you could not deny him.
"close?" he murmured darkly into your ear, wispy breath tickling your neck. making a sharp sensation run down your spine, forcing you to arch against him and pressing your bare breasts against his chest. he knew it, he knew that he drove you this wanton for him, all desperate and wanting more.
and yes, you were too close.
too close until one more move, he could make you topple over the chasm of ecstasy without even doing anything to you.
"hmm," he whispered this time, continuing his words with a foreboding edge as his lips brushed against your neck, against your ear, over your cheeks and teeth lightly nipping at your bottom lip. making you try to kiss him, but he pulled away just like that and watched in sadistic satisfaction when you gave an exasperated groan. "i was too. and then i saw a pretty olive green peeking out of that pile over there."
there was hardly any vigor left in you to groan.
you pressed your forehead against his slick neck, letting your warm gasps leave his skin, as your head desperately twisted in pinpricks of denied pleasure at his command. it was all a game, one that you could end with a single uttered word from your lips. but you’d never been a quitter, something keigo admired in you. his desires took you on erotic journeys you would have never dared to attempt in prior relationships. perhaps you were becoming just as debauched as he was.
there probably wasn’t even fabric of that color lying around and if there was it they weren’t within his eyesight. keigo was painfully teasing you with this, building up your desire to the most desperate extent because you could not stand anymore. and he knew it too. he throbbed against your walls, the sporadic pulsing sending shrapnel of lust into your loins, and you told yourself that if you were compliant to his orders, then he would surely reward you afterwards.
he would.
he always did.
"okay," he spoke up again, pressing his cheek against yours because he knew that you had if he didn’t end it now, then he wouldn’t get out of it what he wanted. bright eyes were still glowing deviously under the chandeliers of the store, making him appear feral. it provided a visual desire for you to nip his ear, to lick his neck and to kiss his lips.
"you can move now, dove. let’s finish this and go home."
what an alluring goal that was, twinkling encouragingly from finish-line.
you gulped harshly, feeling your legs too weak to push you upwards again. because he stopped you countless times and made a pleasure overload overrun in your body, turning your limbs to jelly.
a simple shake of your head was all the answer that you could muster.
it was either that or you would faint from the sheer ecstasy.
that made him smirk devilishly again when he looked at you, taut cheeks, lust-darkened blue eyes, a trickle of sweat running down his temple from the amount of restraint he was putting on himself. you felt as though you were opened, taken, torn from within by this man alone when he chuckled, pressing those sinful-stained lips to your forehead.
"maybe if you would beg just right, i’d bother to move."
whining, you shake your head as every cry you knew spilled past your lips. you begged, to pleaded keigo to move so that he would put you out of this torture. so that he could make you reach that blinding bliss, that your nerves would tighten and your toes would curl. so that you would clench around him tightly, that he could come together with you in this passionate endeavor.
too desperate, nerves tingling with his every wicked command, your shaking hands slowly rose and cupped his cheeks, feeling his soft, flushed skin under your touch and forcing him to look at you in the face. your lashes falling part way over your gaze. plump, bitten lips drawing closer and closer and closer to him and closer and closer and closer with every second. him slowly moving forward to join his mouth with yours in a desperate kiss, and you suddenly paused, letting only your lips brush against his, not moving forward anymore.
his eyes hardened when he felt your words form at his lips.
please.
it seemed as though playtime was finally over, for now.
keigo adopted a fast and hard pace, thighs jerking up to meet your earnestly with each slap of skin. the force of his thrust jolted you into a haphazard bounce as you fumbled desperately for traction and stability. each pull and push of your joined bodies was accompanied by a tremulous whimper as you gasped and groaned against the shell of his ear. keigo knew the sweet vocalizations weren’t completely for his sake, but more of the aftershocks of the broken damn as they spilled through the cracks of your lips.
he still hummed, pleased as his mouth latched onto a pebbled nipple protruding from the fine silk still managing to encase your breast. it was a combination of the gyration of your hips and his own weakening resolve that triggered his own orgasm as he finally let go with broken explicative.
your own pleasure was brought to you without chase, almost a reward for your efforts as you withered through it. keigo’s quiet praises wash over you like aloe, softening the worst of the burnings sensations as your thighs quake in protest. he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck as his arms encircle you and drag you down with him.
the already too small chaise had to be uncomfortable for his wings with your additional weight but he never voiced a complaint as the rose and fell over your sweaty skin. neither did you, despite the sticky resistance of his spent coating the inside of your thighs. at least you wouldn’t have to walk home in this particular pair. not that you planned on walking period as you grumbled a demands that he would be flying you both home.
he snickers all while peppering a series of kisses against your nose,” anything you want, little dove.”
#hawks x reader#hawks bnha#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha hawks#keigo takami x reader#keigo takami#hawks smut
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✨ HOW TO BECOME A WEALTHY MIDDLE AGED MAN✨
PT.2: Overview to understanding different saving/retirement methods, investments, and forms of income
Pt. 2.2 Overview of Investments
Welcome lovelies to (what I hope will be) a helpful series on gaining wealth and becoming financially literate and independent!
Disclaimer: Check other posts. It's too long to keep typing out.
Now comes (what I believe) is the fun part of money. Making it grow.
Investments are defined as “an asset or item acquired with the goal of generating income or appreciation.” Essentially, anything you purchase with the belief that in time it will be worth more. This includes the entire stock market, cryptocurrencies, art, real estate, jewelry, vintage coins, designer bags, etc. Of course, some of these take more time and each comes with some amount of risk. These variables change according to your strategy as an investor.
✨THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND✨
Begin as a Beginner
Do not overwhelm yourself during your financial literacy journey by trying to learn everything, all at once, while also trying it all out. The thing that creates the most confusion when learning is believing the lie that you can multitask well. Yes, start with a brief overview of the systems and institutions (what we are currently doing in the series) but literally all you need to start is definitions and a gist so that you can comprehend how they connect later on. Learning an entire world that has never been taught to you is going to take time, and I’m talking years. And then, when you think you have something down your going to mess up or read an article about how the stock you saw yesterday for $6 is now $1000 and you’re going to be frustrated (this happens a lot). But, If you want to learn about the stock market, focus on the stock market. Retirement still scares you, focus on that until you master it and have a plan. And for Christ’s (or whatever deity/person/universe you believe in) if you do not have a steady stream of income do not put your last pennies trying to get into crypto (or any investing truly). This is something to start after you have income, a savings, a retirement, and have paid off at least most debts.
Recommended sources to learn more:
Netflix has a great series called “Explained” where (you guessed it) they explain things. While I recommend every episode because you can never learn too much, there are ones specifically dedicated to the stock market, cryptocurrencies, and billionaires each that helps to uncomplicate the history and purpose of each of these things.
✨Let’s get started✨
The Stock Market
“Stock markets are real and electronic exchanges that enable the buying and selling of securities. The most popular include the NYSE, Nasdaq MarketSite, and Tokyo Stock Exchange.” Let me, let you, in on a little secret-the stock market is essentially fantasy football (sorry, my American is showing) but with companies. When you buy a security, you are betting that (in the long run or short run, depending on your strategy) that a certain company will perform well and gain profits, which in turn will gain you money on what you bet. There are two categories of players in the market which include the assets (the football players) and the investors (the betting public). Of the assets you can categorize further by what position they play on the field…
Stocks
Most well-known, but the riskiest. The “star” player that everyone hypes up and takes all the credit. Stocks are fractional pieces of publicly traded companies, and by buying a stock you own a relative size of that company. They are either “paying you” through growth (when their stock price rises) or through dividends (when they send you a piece of their profits directly).
Mutual Funds
Less known but a safer bet than single stocks. Popular among those in middle age. “Mutual funds are baskets of stocks or bonds. They come in all different shapes and sizes, from covering broad stock market indexes to focusing on specific sectors.” When you buy a mutual fund, you are saying that you believe on average that pile of stocks/bonds are going to do well, instead of betting on a single player. Usually they are actively managed by people who are trying to “beat” the market for you. Statistically good for the short term, long term are less effective than ETFs.
Index Funds: a subset of mutual funds that are passively managed and track indexes like an ETF but trade like a mutual fund (once at the end of the day and without reliance of supply and demand)
ETFs
Exchange traded funds. The up-and-coming underdog that’s gaining popularity. These are passively managed baskets of stocks and bonds that track over a specific index like the S&P 500. They work like stocks, being traded throughout the day, relying on supply and demand, while giving a lot of the advantages that mutual funds do. They also come with their own set of disadvantages but are still a great way to diversify a portfolio inexpensively.
Bonds
The reliable bench players you know you can put in to save a game. Great safe bets that can generate a steady income. Bonds work like a loan for a regular person, except for a company. You can loan your money to a company which will pay you a principal plus a fixed interest back every specified period. There are different types which come with different advantages and strategies, so make sure to read the fine print.
Commodities
Tangible goods that go into manufacturing-Gold, oil, metals, corn, soybeans, etc. A good defensive team to have in the game for a hedge against inflation or economic troubles. They trade in a commodity exchange. You can still access them through most brokers.
Source to look into for deeper understanding and questions: https://www.investopedia.com/terms/i/investment.asp
Easy way to get started quickly:
1. Create a brokerage account: There are lots of accounts to choose from, but I would go for accounts that have zero fees and no minimum, this is starting to become the norm but once upon a time you had to give a minimum investment of $5000 to get started. I personally use Charles Schwab and Robinhood. I love all of the tools and accounts Schwab has and Robinhood is just easy to use.
2. Sign up: this may take a day or two to finalize, especially with banks but it shouldn’t be a big deal
3. Connect a card or account to transfer funds
4. Buy your first security: I would start off with simply looking up beginner investments on google. I recommend either an ETF, index fund, or choose a company that you have an interest in because you will be more likely to keep up on their news
5. Tip: think long term as a beginner. Sure, once you start learning and understanding you can change your strategy to gain more in a shorter time, but this comes with much more risk. Do not be an idiot and sell all of your stock when you see your investment plummet nor sell as soon as you see it go up a little. The best advice for a beginner: Buy a stock and leave it alone (for YEARS)
Property/Real Estate
There are many ways to invest in real estate-you can buy a property, you can invest in a property fund, you can become a landlord,or you can flip a property. Again, depending on the strategy, will change the risk and reward you have taken on. All of these options are usually on the more cash heavy side but can reap a lot of rewards if done right.
Source to look into:
https://www.nerdwallet.com/article/investing/5-ways-to-invest-in-real-estate
Easy way to get started quickly:
1. Buy a real estate ETF or fund, you can just look this up on google or through your brokerage
2. OR you could look into buying a property near you and renting it out if you have that much cash (Make sure to do your research, this can get pretty complicated)
Art
Also considered property but until recently it was incredibly hard to invest in art without significant cash and contacts available. Now, there are platforms like Masterworks where you can buy a fraction of a piece like a stock of Monet and you get the rise in appreciation. However, it still is for those with money already available, I believe you have to invest a minimum of $2500 to get started on MW.
Sources to look into: https://www.investopedia.com/articles/pf/08/fine-art.asp
Crypto
Cryptocurrencies are digital currencies that are not backed by real or tangible assets or goods, but on the trust and value of the people that use them, and supply and demand. They can be traded like stocks on an exchange and are tracked with a digital ledger on the blockchain. The first cryptocurrency was Bitcoin and the rest that have followed are categorized as altcoins (alternative coins).
The stage of cryptocurrencies we are in is likened to the early 90s with the internet. Not a lot people truly understand the blockchain (the vast ledger space which contains every transaction made securely in encrypted “blocks” that are then “chained” together so that if one block is compromised the whole chain shuts it down.) It is decentralized and written simultaneously on thousands of super computers. The beauty of it is that if one ledger on one computer is somehow hacked or wrong the rest of the computers storing the ledger interrupt and either fix it or shut it down. A way to understand it is blockchain is to the internet as bitcoin is to a website, but the internet runs off people trusting the system, blockchain runs off trusting no one.
The currencies that run on blockchain can have a multitude of purposes, but bitcoin was really just the starting solution to fix the problem of trust on the internet. People wanted a secure, anonymous, untraceable way to spend money online, like cash is in the real world. And while for the most part it is just that, it isn’t completely anonymous. Like in the real world if you buy something from Mcd*nalds with cash that transaction is still recorded in their system and through a receipt. Your crypto transactions are recorded in the blockchain, but most people don’t even know how to access the ledger so for now any ill*cit purchases you make are pretty safe.
I HIGHLY recommend looking into a cryptocurrency course or training just because there is so much that goes into it and lots of details that can help you. This investment is incredibly risky and volatile! I only would suggest investing an amount you are completely comfortable to lose ALL of.
Sources to learn more:
https://www.investopedia.com/cryptocurrency-4427699
Easy to get started quickly (Please dear lord do your research first):
1. Sign up on a crypto exchange like Coinbase or Binance, some brokers (like Robinhood) also allow you to trade crypto but it’s a very limited selection
2. Do lots of research!! (I’m going to say it until you get it, and I don’t think you get it yet)
3. Think of it like stocks, if you read up on the coin and its purpose, and think that it’s going to be useful soon or in the future, then invest
4. Tip: the crypto market moves MUCH faster than the stock market and is much more sensitive. In just these last few days (literally hours) bitcoin was trading at $40,000+, the following day, for whatever reason (people got scared, people wanted to sell to get profits, etc.) it will barely hold $33,000. So, invest wisely!
This is very brief list of the main investments. There is still a lot of depth each of these goes into and especially with things like crypto, information changes 24/7. I hope you have learned by now that you should be continually learning as well. Instead of spending your morning looking at your Instagram feed of bum friends, dusty men, and “models” spend it reading the paper and catching up on the market. Follow investors and billionaires like you follow celebrities and see how much smarter you become. At the end of the day winners focus on winning, losers focus on winners.
With love,
O
#how to become a wealthy middle aged man#money#money management#finances#heauxlife#heaux tips#heaux advice#sugar tips#spoiled gf#high value woman#levelup#levelling up#leveling up#glow up#black femininity#black women in luxury#luxury#affluence#affluent#wealth#wealth management#🧿
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To all my MCs that never really Enjoyed Celebrating their Birthday
Mammon: Alright! What does everyone have planned?
Asmo: I bought them multiple massagers so they can have a relaxing, stress-free day!
Satan: I bought them the new book series for them from their favorite author. I figured we could discuss the meaning throughout the story together.
Lucifer: I convinced Diavolo to give them the day off from any school activities so that they may rest, since they have worked hard it was an easy request. I also made a reservation at Ristorante Six.
Beel: I practiced how to make their favorite dish perfectly so they can have a delicious lunch!
Levi: I bought them the new most popular game they really wanted to try!!
Belphie: Uuhhhh guys? I don't know about this. I mean don't you remember what happened when we asked what they wanted?
Mammon: When they said they didn't want to celebrate? I've thought of that, and I have a plan!
Satan: This ought to be good.
Levi: Why exactly are we letting him run things anyway?
Mammon: Shut up and listen up! We don't have to celebrate anything! We can just try to help them unwind a little. Just friends trying to help their other friend, for no reason at all!
Satan: That sounds so suspicious, they would realize what we were up immediately!
Mammon: Do you have a better plan!?
Satan: ....... *Sighs* No....
Lucifer: Then I guess that's our best shot at doing this for them.
Belphie: I'm not entirely thrilled about following a plan made by Mammon, but I agree that it's the only idea we have.
Asmo: That's pretty sad..
Mammon: Shut up! All of you!
Lucifer: Moving on, I have already told MC that we have no school tomorrow. Hopefully they will sleep in and buy us some time.
-next morning 9:00-
MC: Shit....slept in a bit late didn't I?
-there's a knock on the door-
MC: Come in.
Asmo: Oh good you're awake!
MC: Just woke up. What's up?
Asmo: Oh, just got you a little something~ *carries in a tray with a cover on it*
MC: ..... Asmo..... What is this?
Asmo: I just thought you deserved *takes the cover off* Breakfast in bed.
MC: ...... *Stares at Asmo* What's the occasion?
Asmo: Can't I just do something nice because I fell like it.
MC: You're a demon.
Asmo: But YOUR demon, right?
MC: *shakes head, smiling* Thank you for the food, it looks great.
Asmo: Oh, but that's not all. *Retrieves a bag set by the door* Now, this mask will massage your eyes and play relaxing music.
MC: Asmo-
Asmo: This here will massage your neck and shoulders- which you could really use being hunched over a desk constantly.
MC: ASMO-
Asmo: And these are supposed to wrap around your legs and feet. They are massaged through air waves.
MC: ASMO!!
Asmo: What? I'm on the last one.
MC: Asmo, what IS all of this?? I don't need all of this, if anything you should use it.
Asmo: Now isn't that silly, of course you need it!
MC: As-
Asmo: Now, enjoy your food and relax as long as you wish! *Leaves*
MC: .....*sighs* .. So it's gonna be like that huh?
-few hours later-
Mammon: Yo MC! How about a game of Poker? I know you can't resist the game and the bets!
MC: It's more of the people and the conversations that I enjoy then the game itself. If we get more people on board sure.
Mammon: Uuummm, then how about some blackjack?
MC: Mammon, you know I'm not a gambler.
Mammon: Then how about....... Rummy?
MC: How about Speed?
Mammon: What?
MC: If you want to play a two person card game that bad, let's play speed.
Mammon: ...... What are the rules?
MC: Come here, I'll show ya.
-half an hour later-
Mammon: Wha-!? What the hell!? How are you so fast!?
MC: It's called 'been playing it for years'.
-lunch time-
Beel: Here you go MC. I made your favorite.
MC: Beel, this is much appreciated but why aren't you getting your food first? You must be hungry.
Beel: Nah, I'm ok. Besides, you deserve it.
MC: How so?
Beel: For being a good friend. 😊
MC: ...... *Sighs* ... I can't refuse you when you look at me like that and you know it. That's why you abuse it....
-afternoon-
Belphie: MC, it's time for our afternoon nap. Are you coming?
MC: I'm coming, I'm coming. *Goes to lay down beside him*
Belphie: Oh hold on! *Grabs a different pillow* Use this one instead.
MC: .... Isn't this one of those pillows that are supposed to keep you cool all through the night?
Belphie: Yep! You kept mentioning how hot you'd get while you're sleeping and how uncomfortable you'd be. I'd like my cuddle buddy to be comfortable while sleeping together.
MC: ....... There's NO other reason behind it?
Belphie: What other reason would there be?
MC: .... Fine. *Lays down with the pillow* Thanks.
Belphie: No problem.
-Evening-
Satan: MC, I'd like to talk about the theme in this book I've been reading. It's really confusing to me, I was hoping for different mindset to even it out?
MC: Sure, what book is it?
Satan: Come to my room, I'll show ya.
MC: Ok, *follows*
Satan: *lifts a book off his desk* This is it, apparently this story is holding the idea that committing crimes is alright depending on the situation.
MC: For example?
Satan: Committing murder is alright say, if someone kidnapped your kid.
MC: You think that's not alright?
Satan: I'm a demon, watching humans kill each other is pretty much sport to me. I just see it very unrealistic.
MC: .... Depends on the situation. Say your child was abducted and about to be sold off and become a victim of human trafficking. If this is proven then you should be pardoned for the most part, you will just have to live under new names and protection.
Satan: Wow, I didn't realize how complicated it all was.
MC: Yep, that's life. *Goes to leave*
Satan: Oh, before you go. *Grabs the series of books* Here, read these. I already have and I believe they're right up your alley.
MC: ...... Aren't these the new series of books, that just came out the day before? And you already read them?
Satan: *smirks* If you don't believe me, quiz me.
MC: ...... *Takes the books* .... Why do I not believe this is all coincidence?
Satan: *shrugs* Who knows?
MC: ..... *Leaves*
-Dinner-
Lucifer: MC, you're cooking?
MC: Yep. Everyone else cooks for dinner, I figured I could pick up the slack a little.
Lucifer: How much longer will the food take? We have a reservation in an hour.
MC: It shouldn't take too mu- wait, back up. What the fuck are you talking about!?
Lucifer: Is there something wrong?
MC: A few things yeah! One, I'd like more of a heads up! Two, why now!? What is this for!?
Lucifer: Consider this a reward for all your hard work.
MC: ...... Ok yeah no, this calls for a meeting.
-Everyone is gathered in the common room-
Asmo: What's wrong sweetie? You looked stressed
MC: I am stressed, all of you are stressing me out.
Mammon: Oi!! What did we do!
MC: Everything that has happened today was because my fucking birthday! Wasn't it!?
Satan: So what if it was? Why can't we celebrate it?
MC: I asked you not to.
Beel: MC, why do you hate your birthday so much? We only want to make you feel appreciated... 🥺
MC: Don't give me that damn look. I told you that it was a little too personal, and I rather not talk about it.
Belphie: Do you not trust us?
MC: I didn't say that, it's just...hard to talk about...
Mammon: Have you even tried?
MC: Have you tried not stealing shit? Difficult isn't it?
Levi: Woah! Burn!
Mammon: Shut up!
Lucifer: MC, we would probably understand your request better if you were to explain.
MC: ....... Let's just say... Something REALLY BAD happened on this day.... And everytime someone tried to celebrate with me....I remember it..... When I don't want to....
Levi: .... Woah.... Tragic backstory confirmed!
Asmo: Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry.
Satan: I'm not.
Mammon: Wha-! Satan!
Satan: What!? Come on! When they first show up they state us down like we're frogs in the dessert, and they don't want to be reminded of some shitty memory!! You're better than this! Whether you like it or not I'm celebrating your birthday every year! Because you deserve it!
Lucifer: Agreed. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. I believe with a little push you can love past that block on your mind.
Beel: I'll still make you delicious meals that we can enjoy together!
Belphie: You're keeping that pillow, whether you like it or not.
MC: ......... You all are assholes..... I hope you know that....
Mammon: Yeah well, you're a pain in the ass too. So we're even.
-later that night-
Levi: ....... I got that game you wanted....
MC: ....... You want to play together?
Levi: ...... Please?
MC: ...... I'll grab some snacks and drinks. You set up the game.
Levi: Yay!!
-----
That was much longer than I meant it to be, and alot more feelsy. Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed.
If you see anything that I could have done better, please don't hesitate to inform me. I accept all forms of constructive criticism.
#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphie#obey me x gender neutral reader#obey me x y/n#obey me x you#obey me x mc#obey me x reader
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Hi Honey! Welcome back! I'd love to see any headcanons you have for CG Inko. I feel like she'd be a great caregiver, especially for adult regressors! - 🎧
♡ It's good to be back, honeybee! And you know I'm a sucker for mama Midoriya.
♡ Probably the most qualified person to be a caregiver on this entire show. Inko raised her son entirely on her own- from the little newborn stage, the terrible twos, pre-school blues, and onward. So, you know she has the range!
♡ Super good with littles of all ages, physical and otherwise. She is particularly good with older regressors because it's tough being an adult! And if she can provide a little darling with some sense of comfort and safety, then that's exactly what she does.
♡ It's also probably a good source of stress relief for her to take care of someone else. Takes her mind off of all the anxiety running through her bones.
♡ A very sentimental woman. She absolutely has a folder of Izuku's old crayon doodles and Mother's day cards, some old baby clothes and toys that she holds onto for the memories. Likely gets a filing cabinet so she can give the same treatment to her littles!
♡ The folders are all lovingly decorated and labeled with the most precious nicknames and stickers.
♡ Inko seems like a Beanie Baby collector, but not in the traditional sense. She collects toys and intends on them being played with! She doesn't understand the point of collecting toys if all they do is sit there. And if one gets dirty or ripped it can be cleaned and mended!
♡ Nothing is broken beyond repair in her eyes.
♡ Big on schedules and stickers! Has a sticker chart for when her little one takes care of themselves, does their bedtime routine- Anything really! She only wants the best for them and will reward even the smallest accomplishments, because she knows better than anyone that it can be hard to do anything some days. And she wants them to know that she's proud of them.
♡ She tends to talk through any Big Feelings that might be going through her baby's mind before or after a session. It's crucial to her that they leave her with a clear mind!
♡ Prefers to make things rather than buy them. She will learn what her little's favorite meals are, their favorite textures and fabrics, favorite kinds of toys, favorite colors- All this information is lovingly squared away for making special treats for them!
♡ Excellent hugger. The UA wall couldn't make someone feel any safer than being wrapped in Inko Midoriya's arms.
♡ Absolute queen of bedtime. She'll settle in under the covers with her kiddo against her side, reading whatever bedtime story that they picked out for the evening. And she will not leave until she is certain that they're out like a light.
♡ Inko encourages crying it out. It's okay to feel and laugh and cry! It's good to let it all out when you need to, even if it's over the lid on your sippy cup not matching the cup itself.
♡ She's an incredibly warm and understanding woman that does everything in her power to make her little one feel happy and loved.
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Unprofessional (Axl Rose x Reader)
Pairing: fluffy modern!Axl Rose x younger!Female reader
Words: 2,139
Summary: You’re Axl’s younger personal assistant and doing his Christmas shopping for him. He appreciates all your hard work and gives you a little extra to buy something nice for yourself...for a good reason.
Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia @reigns420 @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @rumoured-whispers
Explaining your job title over the years was perhaps the most difficult part of your job, not the work itself. Actually, the work was pretty fun. Spontaneous, never the same duties, and highly rewarding. But it wasn’t for everyone.
“Good morning,” you called out as you entered the large Malibu mansion that you knew every inch of.
“Y/N, sugar, that you? Hey, c’mere; you’re just in time.” You heard Axl’s voice calling you from one of the living rooms, the one with the view and Axl’s favorite grand piano.
He paused playing and smiled at you a little before he stood and silently handed you his credit card. You smiled knowingly and extended your other hand, to which he laughed.
“You already know.”
“Know that you hate Christmas shopping? Yes.”
“And that I very well can’t exactly walk around the mall casually.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” You smiled. Axl smiled back at you and you felt the familiar rush of warmth fill your heart.
“You’re damn good at it.”
Technically, you were what some would call a personal assistant. But, as the world knows, that extends itself to doing more than just boring paperwork and phone calls when you work for a celebrity. Or the most famous rock star in the world.
You had been working for Axl for years. At first, he was very combustible. Terrible mood swings and hard to please—he couldn’t keep an assistant. You never lost your patience though, and he realized he had someone that could trust in you. He told you as much. Now, he treated you like gold. You didn’t call him sir anymore, and he mainly called you sugar. Paid you more than necessary, sent flowers, sent flowers to your family, even bought you a house. In return you did everything for him; you were always by his side, day and night. Sometimes your family and friends didn’t know how you did it; Axl was your life.
Maybe you didn’t mind because you were in love with him.
Despite the age gap, you couldn’t deny the adoration he made you feel. The way he listened to you, how he remembered tiny details, how he never let anyone talk down on you. How he only really opened up to you. Your job wasn’t to fall in love with him, but how could you not? And it made work never really feel like work.
“Do you like the tree this year?” You asked him as you carefully secured his card in your wallet along with his shopping list. For some reason, he looked down.
“I love it, they did a beautiful job. But...” you frowned; Axl rarely ever complained of anything you took care of. He stepped closer to you, only inches from your face as he looked you in the eye. “I kinda miss it. Decorating it myself. You know?”
“Yeah. I can understand that.” You replied softly, before you cleared your throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that was something you would want to do.” Axl nodded a little.
“Do you have a tree at yours?” You swallowed a little.
“No. To be honest, I’m not there enough.” You both knew you stayed more at Axl’s than yours.
“Did you pick the red and gold decorations?” He asked you, turning and glancing at the sweeping tree behind the two of you.
“Yeah. Thought it matched the interior...and you.” You couldn’t help but smile and reach out to sweep his red hair off his shoulder, to which he turned back to you with a smile of his own.
“If it were really up to you though, is that what you would have picked?” You paused at his question, frowning a little.
“...I think the best decorations are the ones that are so old you have to be careful with them, or else they’ll break. Passed down for generations, all vintage and mismatched, you know?” Axl smiled at you and was silent for a long time.
“Me too.” He said before he sat down again. “Well, good luck.” You grinned at him.
“I won’t need it; you won’t even have time to miss me.” You joked, turning on your heel to leave.
“I doubt that.” You nearly stopped at Axl’s words, before he called your name. “Oh, Y/N, I almost forgot.” He pulled out a separate envelope and extended it to you. Your name was on it and he only smiled at you. “See you soon.”
Outside in the privacy of your car, you opened the envelope. There was a note with Axl’s handwriting.
Get yourself something pretty to wear out. It still won’t be as pretty as you.
You blinked at the note several times and focused in on the bottom.
Yours, Axl xxx
Even knowing how much money Axl had and how much he spent, seeing the cash behind the note still made the envelope burn in your fingertips.
Five minutes later, you were still sitting there in your car, uncertain. Axl had given you Christmas presents, of course, but nothing like this. A house, a car, many other material things, but not a note you couldn’t help but create fantasies about.
What did it even mean? Was this just another gift? Or did it mean more, did it mean...
You did your best to stop the thoughts before they started. After all, you accompanied Axl to many events and it never really meant anything. He was just being kind and generous, as always. Besides, he probably didn’t even see you in that light.
You took care of Axl’s list easy, gifts for his inner circle, workers, the few suits he cared about. The hard part now was the array of dresses you had at your disposal before you. Beautiful cocktail dresses, sparkling gowns, silky slips.
Normally, when shopping for dresses for events with Axl, you always made sure to look professional first and foremost. Nothing too low-cut and showy, nothing with thigh slits, nothing too extravagant. But now?
Yes, now. What were you going to do with now?
Coincidentally, your phone buzzed and you saw it was a text from Axl himself.
How’s it goin?
Your list is taken care of! Just trying to pick a dress now :)
You wanted to unsend your text as soon as it was gone. Had he even meant for you to buy a dress? Your heart pounded when you felt another vibration in your hand.
I’d ask for pics, but I like surprises
You nearly dropped your phone. You felt your cheeks blushing. You were helpless to stop yourself from imagining taking suggestive, racy pics for him in these dresses, sending all of them to him.
And you almost did. But your job was important and if you were misreading signs, you didn’t want to lose it all.
Finally, you settled on a gorgeous red velvet mini dress. It had long sleeves to make up for short length, a deep v-cut neckline that somehow still looked sophisticated, and a subtle sash tie around your waist that complimented your figure.
Despite how much you loved it, you couldn’t help but wonder if Axl would like it the whole way back to him.
When you arrived, the sun was setting behind the mansion, now lit in beautiful twinkling Christmas lights. You hurried inside with the various bags of gifts, as well as the dress in a garment bag slung over your shoulder.
“Y/N?” Axl called as you walked into the house. You smiled, but felt yourself turn uncharacteristically shy at the very sight of him.
“I’m back,” you said lamely, frowning a little at yourself. Axl smiled at you and you couldn’t hold his gaze.
“You were wrong, you know.”
“Sorry, what?” You choked out, feeling your heart stop.
“I did miss you.” Your heart pounded.
“Uh,” you laughed nervously, sending him another wobbly smile. “Do you want to see what I bought?” You said, turning your attention to the bags you were setting down.
“I do. Why don’t you go and put it on?” You stopped, swallowing at the sudden dryness in your throat.
“Oh, uh...I mean...” you blinked a few times. “Oh—that reminds me.” You said, quickly opening your purse and pulling out the envelope to extend back to him. “I didn’t spend all the money.”
Axl clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to go and buy another.”
“What?” He chuckled at your face. The room felt hot as he stepped closer to you, and the sound his shoes made against the granite floors suddenly made you focus on his attire. “O-oh, are you going out? I’m not making you late, am I?” Axl raised his eyebrows at you.
“Yes. We are.” You frowned at him and he sighed lightly, flicking the envelope you still had slightly extended out towards him. “Was my note not clear enough?”
Suddenly, you didn’t feel so crazy anymore, but that didn’t mean your heart wasn’t racing.
“I think...for my sake...and the safety of my job,” you smiled a little and Axl chuckled. “I think you need to be very clear with me.” He reached forward and took your free hand in his.
“Y/N, all these years there’s only been one person by my side. Through the ups and downs, not just for the spotlight. You’ve taken good care of me and never left me ever worrying about anything. And I don’t just mean the dry cleaning and appearances. When I realized you...actually just wanted to be around me because you liked the person I am, and not just the money...” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. “And I don’t want you not by my side. I don’t want anyone else. And I never wanted to make you think I was going to use you, but honey, did you really not notice?”
“What, the gifts? The fact that I live in Malibu now? I just thought it was your nature.”
“Yes, I take care of the ones I love. That’s why I make sure you never have to want or need anything. But haven’t you noticed I never have women over? I’m never off to dates, women aren’t hanging off my shoulders anymore, people call me a lonely hermit?” You laughed a little. “It’s because there’s you. There’s a reason you’ve got your own room here; I don’t like it when you go home.”
Axl raised his hand and brushed your hair away from your face, leaving his hand against your cheek.
“I don’t either.” You murmured. “Axl…I’ve cared about you for years. But I couldn’t exactly tell you that. It would be unprofessional, but…”
“You thought about it.” He guessed. “About us.”
“Of course I did. I love doing things for you, but…I mean, of course I would love more.”
“I thought maybe the note would make everything clear.” Axl said, before he took the garment bag from your shoulder and unzipped it halfway. Red velvet met his gaze and he raised his eyes to you, a new suggestive look in his eyes as he raised an eyebrow at you. “...it looks like you got the hint, darlin’.”
“I didn’t want to assume.” You murmured, trying to fight a smile. “Girl like me can’t get her hopes up; it’s Christmas.” He grinned at you.
“That’s when miracles happen. Speaking of Christmas...” Axl said, turning and grabbing a small wrapped box from the top of the piano. “I did a little shopping of my own while you were out.” You put your hands on your hips.
“I thought that’s what I was for, and I thought we opened presents Christmas Day?”
“This one has more sentimental value.” He pressed it into your hands with a small smile. You shook your head at him as you pulled the ribbon and lifted the lid, surprised to see a small glass ornament. It was two penguins hugging wearing Santa hats, with Axl and Y/N engraved.
“Ax…” you murmured, feeling overwhelmed. Axl reached out and pulled you against him, hugging you tight and kissing the side of your head. “I…I love it.”
“Think it’s too late to start some traditions?” He asked you in your ear before gesturing to the tree before following behind you as you picked a prominent branch to put the ornament on display. “Next year, we’ll go and pick out our own tree and put up our own ornaments. But for now, why don’t you finally go and put on that dress so I can see you in it and we can get somethin’ to eat. We’re gonna need energy to wrap all of these.” He said, looking at the bags surrounding you. You smiled excitedly at him.
“You’re gonna love it.”
“Oh, I know I will. I just hope I don’t have to wait until Christmas Day to open it.”
#axl rose imagine#axl rose x reader#guns n roses#guns n roses imagine#guns n roses x reader#gnr#gnr imagine#classic rock imagine#modern!axl
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Dummy
Summer Of Smut Writing Challenge,
Prompt #10: 2 wet bodies and only 1 towel
Pairing: Victor x MC
Word Count: 3000+
@voltage-vixen
*References to Victors rooftop date and Doomsday date*
“Will you just turn around, please!” You pouted, clutching the towel around you tightly, waiting for your CEO to avert his gaze from you.
“I’m about to see you anyway, what is the difference?” He shot you that, ‘how dumb are you’ look, as he rested against the side of the hot-tub.
“But there will be water, so you won’t see me,” You protested, cheeks flushing red slightly. He shook his head and closed his eyes, ‘dummy’, falling from his lips as he did so. Dropping the towel and leaving it on the side along with your oversized tote bag, you let yourself emerge into the hot-springs below you. Letting out a soft sigh, leaning back as the water rose to glimmer just below your breasts covered by the slightly-more revealing than planned bikini.
“Okay, I’m good, thank you,” You sighed, rolling your head back slightly, missing the quick glaze from Victor’s eyes as he moved his eyes back to you.
Victor had whisked you away for a weekend to a spa-resort, claiming it was for your best health interests as you quote ‘Looked awful’. Nothing like a confidence boost from Mr.Li. Although you couldn’t deny, you were in need of a good break, taking on more contracts than ever before had you working late every night. It didn’t help either you currently had three men pursuing after you: Kiro always wanted to go explore new food festivals, Gavin wanted to take you out on missions and undercover stakeouts so he could keep an eye on you and Lucien took you out on spontaneous day trips for ‘research’. Whilst the company was beyond excellent, it was also tiring.
Days rolled into each other, you didn’t even know the last time you had a decent night's sleep, so when Victor’s comment about your tiredness came out in a 1-1 meeting you burst into tears. Never had you seen him look so flustered and uncomfortable as you sobbed across his desk, freeze on his face at the fact he had upset you.
“It’s fine, I’m fine,” You sobbed, taking a tissue from the box he held out to you.
“Look I-” He mumbled.
“I’m just tired, exhausted really,” You wiped the tears away, eyes stinging as your mascara mixed with your tears, blobs of black ran forming under your eyes.
“If your workload is too much I can-” He once again started but you quickly cut him off.
“No, no, it’s fine,” You shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile, reaching into your bag to pull out your compact mirror and wiping the mascara stained tears away. The dark bags became even visible, the tears had wiped away the thick concealer to try hide them but no use, “But thank you anyway,”. He watched you for a moment, he could see your skin looked more pale than usual, a slight breakout in your skin that you had tried to cover with makeup. You did in a sense ‘look awful’ but to Victor you looked just as beautiful as ever.
“Go home, rest and come back in two day’s, I’ll reschedule this meeting for then,” He raised his hand so you would miss the faintest smile on his lips as you simply nodded in response, too tired to get into a heated debate like normal.
By the time you got home, Victor had already booked a couple of nights at the spa for you both, a deeming reward for all your hard work. It made your heart soar knowing you would be spending more time alone with him, he always kept up his cold-attitude at work but the moments you spent alone, getting to see the other side of him were the moments you truly treasured. You spent the next day and half mainly asleep, the odd text here and there from the others, keeping yourself occupied with rest. A few messages from Victor here and there as well, checking you was actually resting and not off galavanting on adventures.
The following week Victor sent you a list of items needed for your visit, you had everything but swim-wear. Not having time to go shopping you had to buy online, only when the black bikini came the size was definitely not suitable for someone with breasts. It fitted well, a little too well, boosting your cleavage which you was already blessed with. But there was no time to return it and exchange for a bigger size, you would be leaving with Victor in two days time. The night before you left Victor insisted you stay over at his house, ‘Can’t be running late because someone woke up late’. You exchanged pleasantries over a bottle of wine in his cellar, something different about Victor's attitude made you feel more at ease, already feeling relaxed before you got to the spa. The road trip was long, mainly because Victor wouldn’t let you put on your own music, instead driving in mostly silence before you fell asleep against the window.
“Hey, we’re here, wake up,” A soft voice followed by a gentle nudge at your arm, Victor waking you up.
“Hmm? Oh sorry I must have fallen asleep,” You yawned, rubbing your eyes.
“It’s fine, I’ll get the bags just wake up okay,” You swear he smiled but it might have just been your eyes playing tricks. You watched as he exited the car, going into the boot, a sigh of ‘Was a suitcase really necessary,’ as he pulled out the bags. Following his lead into the tranquil serenity, calm and peace flooded your body as you walked to the front-desk, the strong scent of lavender flooding your nose.
“I’m sorry Mr.Li book it appears there's been a mix up, the confirmation is for only one room and we’re fully booked,” The receptionist bowed her head as she avoided eye-contact from the stern man beside you.
“Victor it’s fine,” You smiled, placing a hand on his bicep and cutting in before he could say anything, “Thank you”. He shakes his head mumbling as you take the key card, pulling him along with you to the elevator. Your jaw almost dropped as you entered the room, it was lavished with luxury from the most intricate of details, gold marbling running across the walls and floor. Glassed french doors led to a private balcony and decking, a hot-tub resting in the middle. You dropped your suitcase and ran like a squealing child to flop on the bed, not noticing Victor's smile at your childish actions, letting yourself float on what felt like a mattress of clouds.
“Are you always this excitable?” He scoffed, examining the room.
“Only when it’s something as good as this! I think it’s bigger than my apartment,” You sigh with content, gripping the sheets below and letting the satin slip through your fingers.
“I’m going to unpack, are you going to or are you just going to live out your suitcase for the next few days?” He asks, lifting his designer bag onto the sofa.
“I’ll do it later, I’m gonna take a nap, wake me when you're done,” You yawned, rolling over and letting the wave of slightly tiredness take over you. You heard Victor tutting at your actions but left you alone in peace.
You awoke from your slumber feeling fresh and revitalised, turning to check your phone to see it had only been half an hour, leaving plenty of time to enjoy the rest of the day. Glancing around you saw Victor was not in the room but the balcony door was open, pulling yourself up you went to investigate but stopped dead in tracks at the sound of Victor’s voice outside.
“How's everything going in France?”. Who was he talking to, he had to be on the phone due to the lack of response.
“I miss you…”. His words almost stop your heart, a twang of pain deep inside your chest as the softness of his voice. The three words traveling a distance halfway across the world to another, spoken from one lover to another. Victor was extremely personal, so it shouldn’t come as a shock he has a secret girlfriend, why would you, an employee, need to know that. But it still hurt, the tightness in your chest grew, you had hoped it would be you in Victor's heart not another, as he was held so closely in yours. You couldn’t stop your mind from wandering who was the recipient of his message, maybe it was Chik, after all he made most sense; the wealthy businessman and the beloved actress, they definitely in the eyes of the media, but you knew how much Victor despised the woman. Maybe it was front to protect their relationship? That he would put up an act in front of everyone to then let his guard down when they was alone, whispering sweet words of love to her, words you ached to hear from him. Would his cold-stern drop? Would give her that smile he did when he found something amusing, the smile he tried to hide from everyone but you often caught it? Would he hold her tight, like you imagine him doing to you, giving her sweet kisses before things quickly became heated? Letting her run her fingernails down his toned torso, unbuckling his belt, tracing his v-lines before meeting his…
“Why are you gawping, you’ll catch flies,” His voice pulled you out of your dirty thoughts, shaking his head as he watched your blushing face as he came in from outside.
“N-Nothing!” You flustered, wafting a hand as you moved across the room to where your suitcase stood. How would his girlfriend feel about sharing a room with you? Did she know you were here with him? Was that why he was on the phone to her? You had so many questions, but the hurt-wrenching pain in your stomach stopped you from prying. The weak smile you gave spoke a thousand words, pain clenched from replaying his words.
Oh Victor Li, what have you done to me…
You felt yourself being pulled back from your train of thoughts as the gentle waves crashed against your skin, Victor moving closer towards you as he scooted against the seat.
“Hello? Are you even listening?” His concerned voice, knocked you out of your slight moment.
“Hm? Oh yes sorry,” You responded with no idea what he was on about, ‘I miss you’ still looping in your mind. There was a slight silence, the heat intoxicating your body as your eyes trailed down to his chest, glistening abdomen lay beneath the bubbling water. Being here with him, in such close proximity, it felt almost... wrong. His girlfriend/lover waiting in France and yet here he was with you, taking you away and sharing a room with you, you felt sorry for who-ever had captured his heart, the worry and sadness becoming clear on your face.
“What's wrong?” He asked you, your eyes averting his gaze. It took a few seconds of silence for you to finally muster up your words.
“I heard you on the phone earlier…”.
“What did you hear?”.
“Just a few simple sentences. I won't blab to anyone…” You voice trails off, look up to see Victor moving closer until his knee is touching yours, the skin on skin contact makes your breath hitch a little. He continues in silence, watching his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “Why don't you go visit her if you miss her so much? As long as the two of you are in love, nothing can get in the way of that,” Not even me… The words twist like a piercing dagger into your heart, the hurt you felt was almost mirrored identically on Victor's face, the hurt in his deep purple eyes. He brings a arm up and presses it above your shoulder, you leaning back as he brings his face close to yours, the lingering smell of pine wood and leather intoxicates you.
“You talk too much,”.
His eyes flickers across yours, down to your lips and back up to meet your gaze before pulling away and standing up. The sunlight glistening off his chest, water droplets running over each defined line before falling back into the water, your breath stuck in your throat.
“Where did I?” He muttered, looking around picking up your tote back and checking around. You stood up, reaching over and grabbing your towel, wrapping is around your waist as you stepped out, Victor still muttering. The realisation he left his towel inside the room, even though it was only the other side of your private decking, he would walk dripping water all into the room.
“Pft! Who’s the dummy now,” You can’t help but tease, your laughter breaking the silence as you watch his cheeks graze over with a slightly tint of red. But before he can you give a snappy comment back, you unwrap the towel and hold it out to him, “Here,”.
“Dry yourself first, I’ll borrow it after,” He signs, stepping out on to the decking beside you.
“But it will be all wet!” You protested, stepping forward and wrapping the towel around his shoulders.
“Here just....” He takes the towel and uses it to begin rubbing your arms, “Stand still stop squirming,”.
“You're tickling me!” You squealed as his hands moved to your waist, gently rubbing the towel around your midsection, heat rising in your cheeks from his touch.
“The phone call was to my mother,” His face focusing on yours as you looked up to meet his gaze, heart pounding slightly. You take the towel from his hands, bringing it up to brush against his chest, your hands guiding the fluffy material over him.
“You tried to encourage me when you thought I was courting another woman” The seriousness in his voice raising but spoken in a gentle tone, his face closing the distance between you.
“When will you finally get it?” Even though asked a question, it was a statement, a statement followed by his lips meeting yours, the softness of them brushing against you.
“I wouldn't go near another woman” The warmth of his large hand came to your hold waist, pulling you flushed against his chest, the towel you was holding dropping to the floor.
“All I want is you…” Lips meeting once more in a fierce passion, his tongue grazing your lower lip in a beg for entry you so eagerly granted, the flat on your palms pressing against his torso. Heat pulsing through you in waves as his tongue coaxed over yours, striking bold movements, pelvis grinding against you with a need. Your arms moved up to wrap around his neck, angling the kiss deep as you pulled him down closer to you, his hands trailing down your lower back, over your behind and rested on the back of your thighs before effortlessly picking you up. Legs instantly wrap around his waist as he carries you indoors, lips never breaking apart as your tongue wrestles against his dominant one. The flex of his muscles ripple against your hand as you trace your fingers down him, fingertips toying on the edge of his trunks, the arousal pooling between your legs at the clear desire waiting for you beneath the material.
A rain of kisses cascade down your neck, the flat of his tongue lapping at your racing pulse, the enticing moans falling from you. The sheer strength as he kept you tight in his arms, his knees almost buckling as you dipped a hand below, fingertips grazing over his hardened arousal. The iridescent change of his eyes as he tilted his head to bring his lips back to yours as you wrapped a hand around him, stroking the impeccable sized length with a steady movement. Fingers run up your exposed skin to make short haste of your bikini top, throwing it to the floor as he cups your breasts, applying the same pressure as your hand over his cock. Your free hand drops down from his neck to undo the tie of his trunks, letting them drop as you gaze down, eye-watering slightly as you witness the full length and thickness being stroked by your dainty hand.
Hands twisting in the sheets below you, back arching off the bed as the delicate whimpers all from your mouth, ‘Victor’ rolling off your tongue like it the only word you knew. His face buried between your trembling thighs, holding them apart in an effortless manner as the flat of his tongue ran against your slit. The mouth that spewed words of business, that closed million dollar investments now devoured you, ravishing you as if you were the last meal of earth. Each flicker of his tongue against your clit brought you closer to the experience of ecstasy, fingers thrusting in and out until you trembled beneath him, pure bliss on your face as your essence runs down his knuckles and wrist.
“Ngh!” The desirable moan floods his ears as he watches you lower yourself onto his length, the thickness stretching your walls in pleasurable sensation, each inch causing your muscles to squeeze tight over him until he’s fully hilted inside you. Gentle rocking of hips, hands caressing every inch of your body from your thighs, your behind, your waist and breasts, a slow burning of your ignited passion. Gradual intensity of the pace quickens, breathless moans as your rocking movements are met with rolling thrusts from below, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your muscles begin to spasm around him. The cry of his name is heavy from your lips, walls tightening as you reach your peak, brimming tears from your eyes begin to fall down your cheeks. Holding your trembling body Victor rolls you over so you lay beneath him, rolling his hips continuously as he helps you ride down the waves of intense pleasure, tender kisses pressed to your lips. Hands held under your thighs as he sat back on his heels, allowing for a deeper penetration as his thrusts pick up to a faster pace before he reaches his own release. Abs tightening as he throbbed, head slick with sweat thrown back as he pulled out, spilling against your thighs with your name hot on his lips.
Collapsing down to rest his forehead against yours, exhaustion getting the better half of both you as your heavy breaths mixed together, the thudding sound of separate heartbeats becoming one in rhythm.
---
“You wanted to see me Mr.Li?” You waltzed into his office, keeping the business facade until Goldman left the room, leaving you alone. He hums in response as you giddily run around his desk and sit in his lap, arms welcoming you to a tight embrace as he holds you close to him.
“It’s your analysis over the new project,” His voice stern but his actions reflect otherwise, his thumb stroking softly over yours.
“Is it bad?” You feel your heart racing as his breath is hot against your neck.
“No actually, it’s good, I just wanted to say good girl,” His words touched with a slight hint of laughter, “I guess all you needed was a relaxing trip for your work to become much more adequate”.
“You!” You laugh, turning to playfully push your palms against his chest, his hands coming up to wrap around your wrists as you share a loving gaze. The calculated coldness of his mauve eyes brushed over with a gauge of willingness, a vulnerableness that dove straight to his heart, only for you to witness.
“Dummy,” His voice so soft it could freeze time, pressing a eutrophic kiss to your lips, time slowing around you as he held you close.
Enjoy my work, visit my masterlist here.
#summer of smut#summer of smut writing challenge#mlqc#mlqc victor#mr love victor#mr love queens choice victor#victor smut#mlqc smut#mr love li zeyan#mlqc li zeyan#mr love queen's choice#mr love mobile
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In the Arms of the Anus
Fandom: Spider-Man, Thor
Pairing: Roger Harrington/Grandmaster
Rating: T
Word Count: 8883
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @spiderman-homecomeme!!!
Summary:
While people all over the world are finding their soulmates, Roger Harrington can barely find time to grab a sandwich. Clumsy, anxious, and stagnating in a mediocre marriage, it's a miracle that he still believes in love.
Today's the day the universe rewards that belief.
Three things about Roger Harrington: he’d just tripped on the sidewalk, he worried daily that he was developing a bald spot, and, at the age of 36, he felt he still believed in love as strongly as did the little girl in his building who’d made all the residents Valentine’s Day cards the year before.
The cards—which Roger had found endearing while his wife had been baffled to the point of annoyance—had been wedged into everyone’s mailbox sometime on the afternoon of last May 19th, and maybe that was why he thought of them today, exactly a year later.
It was helpful, he found, to consider love in markers of time passing, or just numbers. The anniversary of those Valentine’s cards would always be 271 days early, leap year or not. Roger had been married twice, longer the second time. He had zero children, and that was alright with him because he wasn’t totally sure that he did want kids and, anyway, he was too profoundly stressed about the welfare of the teenagers he taught at Midtown to comfortably imagine himself as a fulltime parent.
His wife was cool. Significantly cooler than he was. She drove out of the city to hike every other weekend (he had never joined her and hoped to never be called upon for woodsy companionship), had once performed an emergency tracheotomy on a friend at a dinner party, and had a tattoo on her hip that predated their relationship, which made it consequently, eternally, enigmatic, no matter how many times she told the objectively trite story of its acquisition. Also, she was a casual shoplifter, which made him very, very nervous in a way that he found difficult to differentiate from how he felt when he was turned on.
He was the kind of person who consistently forgot to take his glasses off before stepping into the shower. She was the kind of person who would run into and recognize a famous race car driver at Whole Foods (that had happened) or fake her own death (that had not happened—knock on wood!). Essentially, what and who his second wife was was the natural successor to his first wife (the reckless young bride to his insomniac young groom), who had in turn been the natural successor to the only other romantic encounter of his life worth mentioning: a kiss on the cheek at a birthday party on the day the Berlin Wall fell. Roger had been seven.
So his romantic history was speckled and, in two out of three cases, spoke a little too loudly of a need for legally-recognized codependence. So he didn’t feel like a man anyone would ever get a tattoo in honour of. So his wife had been a little unkind in the long pause before her negative when he’d asked her if she thought he was getting a bald spot. Roger still felt that love was going to happen for him. Hopefully sustained in his current marriage, but if not, there was always what Julius Dell had taken to (highly unscientifically) calling the Love Wave.
If Roger decided to be really delusional, he could pretend that the Love Wave was to blame for his stumble over uneven concrete on his way to grab lunch. That he was finally feeling its cosmic tug. Not that he would be the last to sense it—the inexplicable force that had lately begun guiding people the world over to their new partners—but every day that he didn’t, he feared his wife would feel it first and go careening out of their life together in a Thelma and Louise-style launch that somehow left her intact and him feeling like he’d plummeted to his death at the bottom of a canyon. Sometimes, when he thought about it, he imagined feeling that impulse to go to this destined soulmate and pictured it leading him home. Not in some metaphorical way, but literally home, to the apartment he shared with his wife, to find her arriving at the same time, the two of them matched up, the universe endorsing their marriage.
The reality was that he was a man with clumsy feet (and knees and elbows) who’d forgotten to pack himself a lunch and had just enough self-awareness (though probably not dignity) not to believe that eating in the cafeteria with his students was something he would be able to socially recover from.
He thought about a poorly-cut-out pink heart glued to a fold of red craft paper. He went to buy a sandwich.
At the deli, Roger waited in line and didn’t so much allow his mind to wander—like a dog off-leash in a dog park—as feel his mind jerk insistently away—like a dog on-leash, trying to snap a dropped slice of pizza off the sidewalk. He was violently not present as his thoughts migrated from Valentine’s Day cards to lesson plans to the anxiety he always felt over the fact of never seeming to have enough power to go with the tremendous sense of responsibility he felt for all situations in which he was even remotely involved. He would have, should have, continued to shuffle vacantly forward in line, except that the man ahead of him grumbled something that drew his focus.
What he grumbled was: “Even the Sorcerer Supreme should be able to spare a minute to decide what kind of sandwich he wants.”
Now, Roger Harrington was a man of science, but he was also a man who had previously enjoyed a close friendship with the Hulk (and if anyone challenged him on specific parameters within that assertion, Roger knew that he would cry). Aliens swarmed the sky like clouds of bees. There were compilation videos of Spider-Man nearly getting hit by city buses that could’ve been designed expressly to see how hard Roger could flinch. For a clumsy man with the unathletic, knock-kneed gait of Pippi Longstocking, Roger did his best to roll with the supernatural punches. Hey, this was how science worked too: just because there wasn’t a precedent yet didn’t mean there never would be. Just because he couldn’t explain something didn’t mean no one could. Sorcerers? Alright. There could be sorcerers.
“Sorcerers?” Roger blurted to the man, overeager to expel the word.
All other words had fled to the back of his mind, twitching in an agitated cluster, leaving just the one to be snatched frantically from the surface. Like fishing. (Roger had never been fishing. One of his greatest fears was having a live fish somehow jump into his shoe and stepping on it by accident.)
“Uhhh,” the man droned. He looked uneasy. If Roger knew how to make his eyes a little less wide in situations like these, he would’ve done it.
“No, yeah, sorcerers, sure,” Roger swiftly backpedaled. “I’m a teacher.”
As if being a teacher equaled knowledge of sorcerers. As if that were a normal unit of the high school curriculum. Roger’s understanding of sorcerers began and ended with Mickey Mouse in a blue wizard’s hat. He wondered if that was sort of the standard look.
The man did not appear reassured. Roger thrust his hand forward.
“Roger Harrington, Midtown Tech.”
Face still wary, his deli companion shook hands.
“Wong.”
“So, this sorcerer of yours didn’t pick a sandwich?” The line shuffled forward and, now in reach of the long glass case of food, Roger attempted to lean his elbow casually against it, misjudged the distance, and jerked back upright again before he could fall over.
“No… You heard that part too?”
“If I could hear the part about the sorcerer, why wouldn’t I be able to hear the rest?”
“I think most people would’ve been so fixated on the sorcerer thing that they wouldn’t really absorb the part about the sandwich.”
“Just got sandwiches on the brain, I guess,” Roger said.
God, if Wong knew a sorcerer, odds were that he was a sorcerer too. (Roger based this on being a teacher with almost exclusively teacher friends and acquaintances.) He was making it sound like he cared more about sandwiches, he knew he was. He stared silently at Wong for a few painful seconds and wondered if the man could tell that he had worked for a sandwich shop as a teenager—the role of wearing a full-body sandwich costume and standing on the sidewalk, trying to attract people into the shop.
But Wong surprised him by nodding.
“You could get one of everything,” Roger heard himself suggest.
He was not typically one to make suggestions, but rather one to panic when other people did and he was in the position of having to choose between them. He could never decide on a restaurant for he and his wife’s now few-and-far-between date nights, or provide straightforward feedback when she asked for his opinion on her clothing choices… which movie they should see… what they should buy for her friend’s sister’s housewarming gift...
Oh god, she was probably going to fake her own death and his biggest anxiety was knowing that someone would ask him to choose the casket!
“I have like…” Wong jingled his pockets and extracted a fistful of coins that, when he opened his hand, Roger saw belonged to several different currencies. “…six bucks.”
Like a mirror with a delay, Roger patted his own pockets to locate his wallet. He flipped it open to reveal something promising and terrifying: he’d forgotten to return the school credit card after the last field trip he’d chaperoned. He shouldn’t, but… sorcerer.
“I think this’ll cover it,” Roger said. “It’s for emergency expenses.”
“Like lunch?” Wong asked doubtfully.
“I could be very hungry.”
“They sell seventeen different types of sandwiches here.”
“I could be very, very hungry.”
Wong shrugged in evident acquiescence and Roger marvelled that it was so simple for him to accept this act of generosity. Roger couldn’t recall the last time someone had been as generous towards him. Wait, yes he could. The Valentine’s Day card. Well, handing over a credit card that wasn’t technically his didn’t exactly equate to presenting his ticket at the Love Wave gates (not that there were such things—not that he’d know), but he was hoping to trade this generosity up for a different magical experience in the near future.
When they reached the front of the line for service, Roger ordered a total of eighteen sandwiches. (And received an undisguised groan of complaint from the people still in line behind himself and Wong.) While they waited, Roger buzzed like the posterchild for over-caffeination, doing his best not to let his excitement translate into erratic movements.
Of course, once the sandwiches were presented and paid for, it only made sense for Roger to help Wong carry them all. His own ham-and-Swiss was stuffed into one of the three bags and they were all bulging, threatening to spill. If one of them ripped on Wong’s journey back to wherever he had to take them, who would be there to gather the sandwiches into their arms so that Wong wouldn’t have to leave them on the ground? Roger was clearly the best (only) person for the job.
And if they talked on the way? That would be natural. If Wong stared at him with abrupt, unyielding suspicion the instant Roger attempted to negotiate a visit with this ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ in exchange for buying his lunch? Yeah. Yeah that suspicion would be fair.
“Not for my sake!” Roger defended as Wong blinked back at him. “For the kids!”
“The Sorcerer Supreme isn’t a birthday party magician.”
“No, I would never imply that! These are bright kids. They’d be there to learn, respectfully. They’ve had their own traumatic encounter with Spider-Man already so there wouldn’t be any clambering to meet another person with superhuman powers!”
“What did Spider-Man do to traumatize them?”
Wong looked interested now, in an entertained sort of way. Meanwhile, Roger was having a flashback of his life flashing before his eyes inside the Washington Monument.
“Actually, he saved us,” Roger explained. “That’s not the point. It would be purely educational. You and the Sorcerer Supreme would call the shots. As long as it wasn’t anything dangerous.”
“Dangerous? We would never put children at risk!”
Roger was about to clarify that he hadn’t meant to imply that they would when he realized Wong seemed to be taking this as a reason to prove himself, or to make the other sorcerer prove what he’d just said.
“I would hope not,” Roger said carefully, “because not all of the children I’ve taken on field trips have come back alive and that haunts me.”
“Well, what haunts me is everything I’ve seen and learned from in order to become someone who could now guarantee a safe field trip environment.”
“Well, that would be great.”
“Well, good,” Wong concluded.
Roger looked down at the bag he was holding as he dug out his sandwich. His wrist twisted and he caught the time on his watch. Oh wow, oh no, his lunch break was almost over.
“Ok, deal,” he said quickly. “We’ll come by next Tuesday!”
“I’ll be out here to let you in!” Wong agreed with a parting wave.
Roger took off running in the direction of Midtown and when that got too awful, he wheezed like an asthmatic and waited at the closest bus stop.
—
Roger had expected Principal Morita to say there was no room in their budget for this trip. That they were nearing the end of the school year, that parents and guardians would be reluctant to sign another form for an excursion that Roger could only give a vague, stammering explanation of. At the very least, he’d anticipated the journey via school bus in lurching, stop-and-start traffic to take so long that the kids would revolt; Flash Thompson would lead the complaints that they could’ve walked to their destination faster than the ride took and Roger would feel the primal horror of a confrontation with a self-possessed teenager who wielded the kind of peer influence Roger could only have dreamed of when he’d been Flash’s age.
But no.
Highly improbably (Roger didn’t like to consider it miraculous), things went smoothly. The trip cleared the budget assessment on zero notice because, besides renting the single bus to transport the students, their outing didn’t actually have any costs. Permission slips came back signed. Traffic was light. And dear, dear Flash—who usually gave Roger so much anxiety—slapped the hand Roger raised to shield his eyes from the sun as his students disembarked from the bus, rewarding him with a surprise high-five for getting them out of the classroom on a Tuesday afternoon. It almost knocked Roger’s glasses off.
They were ushered inside by Wong, who was now laying the mystical solemnity on pretty thick. He certainly wasn’t talking about sandwiches or complaining about the Supreme Sorcerer under his breath.
Before Roger could feel too good about himself though, he realized he’d had time to run through his headcount of the students three times without interruption. Normally, something would happen partway through his first count and he’d be uneasy for the rest of the day, sure that one of the kids had fallen down a manhole or been stampeded by a dog-walker’s unruly canine swarm. The universe shoved teenagers into the path of bike couriers with one hand and paired up soulmates with the other. That was just how things went! However, inside this house (or, no, Sanctum, Wong had called it), the air was still and quiet.
“Do you think he’s gonna make himself appear out of thin air?” Roger heard Ned ask at a whisper. “Or out of a wardrobe, or a trapdoor, or one of those boxes people get in to get sawed in half?”
“Those are cheap tricks,” Wong said loudly. He stared unsympathetically at Roger’s motley group, hand closed around his opposite wrist to maintain a serious pose. “The man you’ll be meeting shortly has capabilities that far outstrip those of the kind of magician-for-hire you’d find in a phonebook.”
From behind him, Roger heard Peter ask Ned what a phonebook was.
“What kind of capabilities then?” Flash demanded.
Roger sighed and was turning to reprimand his student when Wong said, “Like this!”
The man faked a sneeze of horrific volume and range, doubling over and cupping his hand around his mouth and nose. When he straightened up and presented his open palm, there was a raspberry sitting in it.
Roger closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself and his teaching career played on a fast-forwarded film reel behind his lids. The Sorcerer Supreme was a no-show; all Roger had accomplished was taking the kids to a weird building to witness a man pretend to sneeze out a raspberry. Midtown Tech was going to fire him. His wife would recognize his unemployment as a reason to leave him. Depressingly, Roger was thinking about how that would almost be a relief—an end to his incessant worrying that they were really kind of a mismatch—and he was thinking it while he blankly watched Wong eat the raspberry he’d just feigned dislodging from his nasal cavity.
He was really unprepared for a different man to come sweeping down the stairs, motion with his hand, and have a red sheet come whizzing down after him to settle itself on his shoulders. Roger blinked. He heard the mixed noises of fright and appreciation from his students.
Then Flash piped up with, “That’s just a trick. It’s wires or something.”
Roger backed into the cluster of his charges and, without taking his eyes off the obvious Magical Guy in front of him, reached over and placed his hand across Flash’s mouth.
Unfortunately, his censorship seemed to be too late. The Sorcerer’s narrowed eyes zoned in on Flash.
“Oh yeah? How ’bout this? Is this just a trick?”
Fingers splayed, the man moved his hands in a precise, practiced way and a window opened up in the middle of the room. No, not a window, but Roger was having a tough time wrapping his head around it. What this non-window showed was something that wasn’t the room, that wasn’t a view of the street, that wasn’t anyplace in New York, if he had to guess.
“You can’t just do it like that,” Wong said wearily. Roger felt himself and his students look from one of the men to the other as though watching a tennis match. “There should be a little more finesse.”
“Look,” the Sorcerer told him. “You don’t get to spring this on me and then expect me to ham it up for the kids. This isn’t a David Blaine show.”
“Maybe you should watch one. You might learn something about showmanship.”
“So, it’s fake, right?” Flash checked.
Dammit, Roger had dropped his hand, distracted as he tried to make out what he was seeing through what he was becoming increasingly comfortable with calling a ‘magic portal’ in his thoughts. He scrambled to take hold of Flash’s shoulder—yanking him back would be bad, but dealing with the fallout of him pissing off somebody who could make magic portals would be much worse—but Flash dodged him, swaggering forward to inspect the Sorcerer’s work.
“What is it? Mirrors? Greenscreen? You buy your tech from Stark?”
“Stark?” the Sorcerer spat out derisively.
Overcome with the terrible feeling that he was about to find out what it looked like when a wizard put a curse on a child, Roger sprang forward. As he did, three things happened: the Sorcerer rotated his wrist slightly, the scene on the other side of the portal changed, and Flash turned to the side.
Without a student to grab onto and pull to safety, Roger’s momentum sent him hurtling through the gateway currently connecting Midtown to parts unknown.
Of all the times to trip, he thought.
—
The world was bright and fast and bad. Actually, Roger was almost positive that what he was seeing wasn’t the world at all, but he couldn’t put a name to where he was any more than he could think of better adjectives to describe it. Unless the Sorcerer Supreme owned a magical slip ’n’ slide that operated at speeds designed to train prospective astronauts for space travel, Roger was no longer in his building.
The colour of the tunnel of light surrounding him turned from something like the intestinal track of a unicorn who ate lightning and nebulas to a dangerous, broiling red. Roger kept waiting for his skin to bubble, his face to melt off. Maybe he was the fabled frog in the pot of boiling water and had failed to notice the heat steadily increasing. Because he didn’t feel hot. He couldn’t tell whether or not he felt cold either and before he could work it out, he finally landed.
It was rough.
He curled his arms up around his head, protecting his face. He hit and tumbled, hit and tumbled, banging his shins and elbows, setting off a series of metallic clangs and thwumps like his body was playing drums made of the contents of somebody’s recycling bin. Roger could see—once, shaking, he was able to lower his arms and open his eyes—that his imagination hadn’t been far from the mark: he was lying in a heap of trash.
Trembling like a baby deer, he got to his feet and assessed his surroundings. There were piles everywhere. Piles of stuff. Roger could identify some of the battered objects, but most were utterly alien to him. This was like the time he’d found his wife’s sex toys all over again.
“Hello?” he called out, because he seemed to be alone. “Hel—”
His throat closed off abruptly when he swiveled in place and noticed the sky. His mouth fell open. Was that what he had just come through? That furious-looking, billowing, volcanic, enormous… disturbance? Weather pattern? Entrance to hell, if hell were a mountain of trash?
Oh man. Where was Spider-Man this time? Roger didn’t know which would come first, but if something distinctly reassuring didn’t happen in the next 30 seconds, he was going to either burst into tears or pee his pants. His cool wife was going to be so bummed to have to declare him dead instead of faking her own death. And his students would be traumatized, having just witnessed their teacher disappear before their eyes. He spent a frantic 17 of his 30 seconds wondering if this were Jumanji and he’d started a game without realizing it; being sucked into a board game was another of his greatest fears, ever since he’d watched the chilling horror film Jumanji in his teens.
“Hello?” Roger croaked a final time.
Some other scientist—a Tony Stark type—would thrive in this scenario, Roger knew. They would scavenge the surrounding mounds of metal, collecting and assembling pieces into some sort of technology that would either get them home or enable communication with a rescue team. Would there be a rescue team for Roger Harrington? Would anyone even try to get him back?
The cry/pee conundrum was looking more like cry with each passing second until suddenly, amongst the broken things Roger was aggrieved to consider the lone sentinels of his demise, some kind of spacecraft touched down. Based on his recent luck, whoever was at the helm was likely here to kill him, but he immediately elected to throw himself on their mercy, whether that meant rescue or just a swifter snuffing out of his life than he would otherwise experience on this sad island of garbage as he died from dehydration, starvation, and exposure to that infernal gateway in the sky.
He mouthed the word “help” more than said it as he staggered forward on legs he could hardly feel. A door in the side of the spacecraft slid smoothly open and party music blared out. Roger flinched back as though he had not heard the sounds of civilization in years.
A woman exited the craft. She wore an expression about as kind as the murderous upside-down mushroom cloud in the sky and when their eyes met, she barked, “Back!”
Roger executed an awkward reverse lunge, pleading hands raised. Ok, now that his time had come, he didn’t want a quick death. Put out of his misery? No, he would learn to live with his misery, the way he’d learned to live with his college roommates, or his wife’s collection of handmade bowls! With food and water to sustain him, he was suddenly confident that he could be successfully miserable for years if this intimidating woman would just leave him to his own pathetic devices.
But then, like a visitation from a tan, eye-liner-wearing angel of indeterminate age, a man in gold robes emerged from the vessel. He beamed like he had always been beaming, and always would be.
Just like that, Roger Harrington got it. He got what Hot Chocolate meant when they sang that they believed in miracles. He got the meaning of Kylie Jenner’s year of realizing stuff. He got why a child would send out Valentine’s Day cards in May and why his wife was so dedicated to her hiking group and why he was here.
“Now, what did I say about that before we left?” the angel seemed to be asking his companion, though he’d locked his eyes on Roger. “Did I say to harass our visitor or did I say to be nice?”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Roger, which he felt more than saw; it was possible that he was crying after all. Tears of joy.
“Harass,” she answered flatly.
The angel chuckled.
“You know, I do like having you around. Before you, I said to myself, ‘Next time, get an enforcer with a sense of humour.’” He sighed as his laughter dwindled. “But you can, uh, skedaddle back onto the ship now. That’ll be all.”
“What if you want to melt him?” she queried.
That was enough to tear Roger’s gaze away from the man and send it zipping nervously to the threatening almost-smile the woman was now directing his way. He’d preferred the murder face.
“Melt him!” the angel said, in a tone that implied her suggestion had been ridiculous. (Roger relaxed. A little.) “Topaz, don’t you realize who this is? Don’t you know?”
She shrugged.
“Trash.”
“No, he’s not trash! Do you think I would’ve left the Grand Arena to retrieve a new gladiator by hand? All those Scrappers don’t do my bidding just so I can dig through the garbage looking for fresh challengers for my champion! I wouldn’t even assign Scrapper 142 this task, and you know she’s my favourite!”
When the woman only grumbled, the man pressed, “You have an unbelievable poker face. Do you really not know why I flew all the way out here for this guy?”
“I’m his soulmate,” Roger blurted, because that was the one thing he did know.
He had no idea what a Scrapper was, or whether the man in front of him was more or less important than the ‘champion’ he’d mentioned, or how his homicidal sidekick planned to melt Roger, but he understood what was happening here. Forget the Love Wave—what had come for him had yanked him violently across solar systems, maybe galaxies. He’d been sucked under by the Love Riptide.
The angel pointed at him and proudly proclaimed, “Correctamundo!”
Then he strode forward and folded Roger into a hug. Roger thought this must be what it was like to be a piece of antique furniture, tenderly wrapped in gold leaf.
“I’m the Grandmaster,” he said.
“Roger Harrington,” Roger offered, feeling that his life was entirely surreal as he cautiously returned the hug.
“As soon as I felt you land on my humble little planet here, I came looking. My orgy guests were disappointed, naturally, but I had to put my interests first. What was I, elected? If they wanted a leader who would pretend to care about everyone equally, they should have organized themselves into a viable political party capable of rivalling my dictatorship, am I right?” He drew back slightly and laughed. “You should see your face! I’m kidding. I would’ve had anyone involved in such a thing put to death. Don’t you worry, Hairball.”
Roger cleared his throat. He’d learned so much in the last few sentences alone. Death. Dictator. Orgy. Any one of those things was a lot to confront and yet… he was calmed by the Grandmaster’s presence. He was alive and unmelted. He’d managed to find his soulmate—a man he’d been almost certain to never meet as things stood with Earth’s individually-impressive but cosmically-insignificant progress with space travel. At long last, the universe had smiled on Roger Harrington.
“Just Roger is good,” he said. If last names ever came up again, he would tactfully correct his soulmate, but with a name like ‘the Grandmaster,’ he doubted they ever would.
“Roger. Anything you say.” Gripping Roger’s shoulders, the Grandmaster leaned in and planted a sound kiss on his forehead with a loud, “Mmmwah!”
He asked Roger if he would like to go aboard his ship, apologizing that it wasn’t the one where he’d just been having the orgy and appearing to check Roger’s face for disappointment. Roger didn’t know what the Grandmaster saw in his expression, but he knew it wasn’t that.
Inside the spaceship, Roger looked around with huge eyes. He hadn’t felt this kind of wonder in a room jammed with so much beyond his understanding since the first time his mom had taken him to the New York Hall of Science as a kid. Everything was bright and white and immaculately clean, and Roger could concentrate on all of it because the Grandmaster had Topaz drop the volume of his party playlist until it was just a low pulse of background noise. Seemingly amused by his awe, the Grandmaster allowed him a peek at the controls before gently herding him into a chamber with seating arranged for socializing. A pneumatic hiss sealed them safely inside and away from the woman’s scowl.
“I really just wanna sit here and, uh, just look atcha, but that look on your face tells me you’ve got about a million questions.”
The Grandmaster settled back into the bench seating, resting his long arms along the top of the seat. Across from him, Roger fidgeted, experiencing sensory overload. Soulmate. Spaceship. Alien planet. He found it hard to decide what to ask first. Was that even polite? Was the Grandmaster just saying that Roger could ask questions when he really wanted Roger to say or do something else? There was an awfully flirtatious look in his eye, the likes of which Roger hadn’t seen directed towards himself in several years.
“What is this place?” Roger asked before he could stop himself. “Where am I?”
“Oh! This is Sakaar! Are you saying you didn’t come here on purpose? I figured you weren’t aiming for a pile of trash, but you really didn’t know where you were going at all?”
Roger shook his head so hard that he had to nudge his slipping glasses back up his nose.
“It was an accident. I fell through a wizard’s—uh, I mean, a sorcerer’s—magic portal. That kind of clumsiness must sound pretty farfetched to someone who’s so obviously…” Roger motioned spastically towards his soulmate, the dictator, with both hands. “…in control of their life.”
The Grandmaster laughed, transparently pleased and preening.
“Oh, Roger, you flatter me.”
He stretched out his leg to playfully tap his shoe (gold) against Roger’s (plain, brown, frayed shoelace). Roger jumped, giddy from an alteration in sea level, possibly, plus life-changing events.
“But it really isn’t so uncommon for people, beings, things… to end up here without meaning to,” the Grandmaster went on. “A lot of junk passes through the Anus. Not that you’re junk, obviously.”
With a winning smile, Roger’s soulmate leaned forward and patted him on the knee. He was a touchy-feely guy, it seemed, and it made Roger cognizant of how very lonely he’d been in his marriage, in the last year especially. How skittish around strangers, how unaffectionate with his friends. This was what he needed, and the universe had understood that.
It took his brain a few seconds to catch up with what his soulmate had said, distracted by the comfort he was taking in his easy warmth.
“The Anus?” Roger asked in a choked voice.
“The Devil’s Anus, to be exact. That enormous, horrifying wormhole out there in the sky!” the Grandmaster explained, gleeful. “Best I can guess, it acts as a funnel for accidental travelers, like yourself. And boy, are we ever grateful for that thing. I’ve never had to post any ‘Help Wanted’ flyers, I’ll tell ya that. We need more people serving drinks? Boom. More entertainers? Boom. More lubricators for the orgies? Boom, the Anus provides, baby.”
Roger didn’t inquire what the duties of a person with the job title ‘orgy lubricator’ entailed; it seemed sleazily self-explanatory. He just nodded.
“And now,” his perfect, golden match continued, “the portal brings me my soulmate. I love that thing. It’s really somethin’, huh?”
“It’s really something,” Roger agreed. “Really, really something.”
“You’re looking just a little stunned there, Rodge. Can I offer you something to eat? A drink? I promise, I’m usually a much better host. I feel like I’m positively, uh, bumbling right now.” He beamed.
This man was so many things at once—possibly too many—but bumbling was so far from being one of them that Roger actually laughed weaky in his state of happy, semi-delirium. He accepted the cold glass that was pressed into his hand, the brush of the Grandmaster’s warm palm across his forehead. He had moved to sit right next to Roger.
“You can get used to this place at your own pace, within reason.” His soulmate chuckled. “Heck, we can stay right here a day or two. My plans are cancelled, and when I stop, the world stops. That’s how it is, being the Grandmaster, and that’s how it’s gonna be for you too. You can give all your worries a big, wet kiss goodbye, my love. You’re living a life of luxury now. A court of sycophants, fights to the death in the evening, orgies on a lazy afternoon. I’m talkin’ a life of pure class—”
“Class!”
“Yeah, baby, that’s what I said.” The Grandmaster was wearing a languid smile as he traced the back of his fingers along Roger’s jaw.
But Roger was suddenly too alert to be lulled by welcome caresses and delicious, exotic beverages.
“I was teaching a class before I fell through the portal,” he said. “I’m a teacher. My students are probably terrified. Some of them might be messed up for life after watching me disappear right in front of them. What have I done…”
“So you gave them a cool story to tell their friends! You don’t need to think about that anymore. Now that you’re living here—”
“I can’t live here!” Roger said, seizing the Grandmaster’s hands in his as he tried desperately to explain. “I have responsibilities as an educator! Jesus Christ, I’m married!”
“Roger. Rodge. Rodge. Hey,” his soulmate said, finally disrupting Roger’s spiral of panic. “That’s all in the past. Do you know how many creatures from just, uh, every darn corner of the universe I’ve made slaughter each other for my entertainment? Thousands, Roger, ok? Thousands. And it’s taught me oodles about life. What I’ve learned is that love is the only thing that matters. What all of those poor bastards scream for in the end is their mom, their partner, their best friend. Now, that doesn’t help them, but it helps us. It helps us understand that we’ve done it—we’ve achieved the one thing in our lives that was worth a damn to achieve. I’m not gonna, gonna now be parted from you, sweetheart. You are the point of me.”
Roger felt himself growing teary at the speech. Yes, this had been a whirlwind—they’d met no more than 15 minutes ago—but he was feeling something just as deep as the love the Grandmaster described. It was a fantasy in the best way, the life his soulmate pictured for them (most of it… maybe not the part about slaughter). But it was a fantasy in the worst way too, something so impossible that Roger felt sick for getting as attached to this man as he already had.
“I can’t,” he said softly. He let his head hang down, solaced when the Grandmaster guided it onto his shoulder and wrapped a protective arm around him.
“Can’t you? For me? Roger, if I put you on a ship and send you back through the Anus, we may never meet again.”
Roger squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to be selfish, but there were people he couldn’t leave in the lurch. People who maybe didn’t care about him in a way that was equal to how he cared about them, but that was how any kind of relationship was, apart from soulmates. There were imbalances. He knew he might not be the most brilliant scientist, the most inspirational teacher, the husband a woman would prefer over the outdoorsy hunk in her hiking group, but he knew who he was: he was someone who couldn’t just walk away.
“We’ll be together again,” Roger said, clutching the Grandmaster’s robes. “After.”
Though he didn’t yet know what ‘after’ would mean.
—
It wasn’t as unexpected as it could have been—Roger had always had a feeling he’d die on a school bus.
The difference between his fears and reality was that he wasn’t departing this world in a fiery crash or zooming out of control between the steel trusses and into the East River. There was confusion, there was chaos, there were screams and the violent honking of horns, but there were elements he couldn’t have predicted. Primarily, the giant alien spacecraft hovering over the city. The ship immediately moved into first place of the most ominous rings in his life (he and his wife were not in a good place). Since its sighting, things had quickly spiraled out of control. Julius had radioed Roger from the other bus of students they were chaperoning to MoMA to report that Ned Leeds had ‘flipped his shit’ and Peter Parker was currently missing. Roger had nearly passed out. The only thing that had kept him conscious was his jittery concern for the rest of his students.
At Midtown Tech, they had drills for almost every eventuality. As of 2012, hostile outer space invasion was actually part of their repertoire, but it had always been assumed they would be at school when it happened, not out on a field trip. The most Roger had been able to think to do was get the kids to a secure location. Which meant getting the buses to a secure location. But the buses were on the bridge, and all over the bridge drivers were panicking, mindlessly stomping on the gas and attempting to swerve around the rest of the vehicles. Above the blood rushing in his ears, he’d heard crash after crash, until their bus was hemmed in and, through the smoking, crumpled hoods of their fellow commuters, the alien ship hung stationary in the sky. Disturbingly tranquil as New York City went to pieces to the tune of apocalyptic dissonance just below.
In the end, the spaceship hadn’t stayed put, but Roger had. The lanes around them were crowded with smashed cars. Glass from shattered windshields glittered on the pavement. Still, more vehicles surged forward as drivers attempted to use the bridge to flee the city; this wasn’t NYC’s first alien rodeo. He hadn’t attempted to force any of his students to remain on the bus—they were some of the smartest and the best of their generation, and he trusted their survival instincts far more than his own—but he did direct the ones who fled to first climb up onto the roof of the bus instead of dropping directly down onto the street and risking injury. Yes, he worried about minor cuts and bruises. Even now.
He thought that Flash was staying with him, and was touched. But then he realized Flash was just gripping his shoulder for leverage as he jumped and grabbed for the emergency roof hatch with his free hand. Roger knew the boy was somewhat neglected by his parents, and so, for the first time, he was happy go hear ‘Hotline Bling.’ It was Flash’s ringtone and it played incessantly as his phone rang and rang until the song, and the sound of Flash running, faded into the distance. Somebody wanted to see that he was safe. Somebody cared about him.
Alone, Roger hunkered down between the seats, knees bent in front of him. He scraped one hand anxiously through his hair and gripped his phone in the other.
He should call his wife. He knew he should. Only, he was afraid that she either wouldn’t pick up or she���d answer and be with the guy from her hiking group. Roger wasn’t even upset; he was glad she had someone, if this was it.
Ever since he’d returned from Sakaar, he’d been different, he was aware that he had. In the past, his wife had been largely responsible for the sundering of their marriage, but Roger knew that he was now pulling away too. It had begun inside him—the tear. He wanted to be with two people for two different reasons. In two places, on two worlds. Commitment clashed with longing. Logical rightness fought emotional rightness. He’d been weak, persuading himself daily to tough it out with his wife (even as he slept on the couch every night because lying beside her made him unhappy), when, for once in his damn life, he wanted to be fulfilled. Somewhere out in the stars, there was a man with blue eyeliner and an entire planet at his capricious command and he was the person for Roger.
If only, he thought, picturing the face he shouldn’t have been able to recall so clearly for the brevity of their encounter months ago. Roger shut his eyes to better remember the Grandmaster, and so he wouldn’t have to see his phone clatter to the bus’s dirty floor when the hand that held it turned to dust.
—
As with his life on regular, non-apocalypse days, not much happened to Roger. Despite his paralyzing breakdown on a school bus, he wasn’t among the billions scattered to the wind like sentient dandruff. He picked himself up and went home. Sure, he was shivering almost out of his skin from the shock, but he didn’t collapse into wracking, snotty sobs until he was safely in his living room, listening to his neighbours’ wails through the condo’s walls.
Roger’s wife wasn’t there, didn’t answer when he called her, and, three weeks later, still hadn’t made contact. It took another two months to hold her wake; the funeral business was booming. Never had so many words been spoken over so many vacant graves. Some members of his wife’s hiking group attended, some had even helped him select the right music and flowers beforehand. They knew her preferences. It felt surreal to be burying a person he couldn’t prove—in any meaningful way—that he’d really known.
With a queasy sense of being very lucky, he accepted that, apart from his marital status, his life hadn’t been upended. His windows weren’t broken, his car wasn’t stolen, the few family members he was out of touch with anyway had also survived. He went back to work before anybody called him in. There weren’t any students at first, just the echo of Roger’s clumsy footsteps tripping over the rug in the staffroom, half-solved equations on the whiteboards in the math classrooms, and the unholy stench of unwashed pinnies when he poked his head into the gym storage room to see if Coach Wilson was around. One day, Roger tipped back in the chair at the front of his own empty classroom and spotted a gigantic cobweb in the corner of the ceiling. It made him think of Spider-Man. He guessed that guy was gone too.
The most important thing for keeping sane was establishing a regimen. Work was a big part of that, but Roger also traveled daily into Manhattan to visit the Sorcerer’s place. It became a kind of pilgrimage. Early on, Wong would come out to say hello, but it was eventually less about commiseration and more of a perfunctory thing. Roger knew (assumed, hoped) that if the Sorcerer ever did return, Wong would let him know and welcome him inside. And then… a portal? And then the Grandmaster? He tried not to think about it too hard. Yearning took up a lot of energy and, when his students began to come back to school in distressingly low numbers, Roger needed to reserve that energy for teaching.
Everything was the same, every day, until it wasn’t.
For a reason he couldn’t rationally explain, Roger knocked on the Sorcerer’s door. While he was waiting—just a few seconds, he planned—a man materialized on the sidewalk right next to him. He tottered and Roger reflexively said, “Whoa!” and grabbed his shoulder to keep him on his feet. Before Roger could hypothesize or ask the man any questions, a teenage girl returned to existence a few feet away. Then a woman holding a toddler tightly in her arms. A little boy. A man with a dog. A bicycle-less bike cop, still wearing his helmet. Releasing the man, Roger spun and pounded against the door with his fist.
Still, no one answered.
Fighting the urge to show up at Midtown Tech, Roger made himself stay put, right there on the Sorcerer’s doorstep.
He waited a long time. As the sun set, New York City rose around him. He watched people hugging, running home down the middle of the street. He fielded unfinished questions as the newly returned began to ask him what had happened, what time it was, what year, before jogging away, more purposeful with every step they took. Roger’s foot began to bounce on the sidewalk and his clammy hands twisted fretfully. It was still another 12 hours before the door opened.
Roger fell backwards into Wong’s shins, delirious from the sickening seesaw between urgency and exhaustion. Everywhere, people were reconnecting. He scrambled to his feet because he wanted to be one of them.
“Is he here?” Roger demanded.
Wong narrowed his eyes slightly, holding the door so it couldn’t be pushed open further.
“Might I remind you that it’s me you’ve been seeing here the last five years.”
“Yeah,” Roger agreed, trying to see past.
“I thought we had developed a rapport.”
Finally, Roger met Wong’s eyes, his own pleading.
“No, yes, you’re right, we have,” he babbled.
“We’re friends.”
“Yes, of course, we are friends. Definitely.”
“So when is my birthday?”
Roger’s mouth hung open as he searched his brain for a piece of information he knew wasn’t in there. A few seconds later, Wong turned mirthful.
“Did you spend the Blip hiding under a rock where there are no jokes? Come inside. We just got back.”
None of the thousands of times he’d come to the door mattered—Roger hadn’t been inside the Sanctum since that first time. He hoped the Sorcerer remembered him.
When he saw the man, Roger’s steps stuttered. The Sorcerer appeared grim and wiped out. He was dirty and he looked older, though Wong whispered to Roger that the Sorcerer had been among the Snapped. Roger understood that, for something to go right and bring everyone back to life, something else had gone wrong. He could dwell on that and awkwardly bow his way back out of there, or he could convince himself that things had gone wrong for him too, and that he’d like them to be righted. He remembered that his soulmate was a dictator and tried to channel that sense of entitlement.
“What do you know about the Anus?”
The Sorcerer blinked.
“What.” The word came out perfectly flat.
“The Anus.”
“I wasn’t that kind of doctor.”
Roger strode eagerly towards him, hands gesturing before his words caught up.
“When I was here about, um, five and a half years ago, I fell through your magic portal—”
The Sorcerer snapped his fingers in recognition and turned to Wong.
“Oh, that’s who this is. I always wondered what happened to that guy.” He looked at Roger again. “How did you get back to Earth?”
Roger hadn’t been prepared to answer this question, just make his demands, and he began to explain what had happened to him, all out of order. The words ‘orgy ship’ had barely left his mouth when the Sorcerer was waving him into silence. His expression told Roger he was sorry he’d asked.
“So you went through the portal…” he prompted instead.
“That’s right! And for a while, I was just falling. I don’t know where I was.”
The Sorcerer stroked his chin.
“The connection must’ve been unstable. I know—one of your students distracted me.”
“That’d be Flash,” Roger said.
“Jesus. This is why I prefer not to be a field trip destination. Normally, the portal would allow you to pass cleanly through one place and into another.”
“And instead he passed cleanly through the Anus,” Wong summarized.
“…Yeah.”
Roger glanced from one man to the other.
“So,” he said, “could you do it again?”
The Sorcerer stared at him.
“The short answer is no. The long answer is also no, but it contains a great deal of vernacular to do with the Mystic Arts, so I’ll save us both some time.”
The last time Roger had defended his intellect and qualifications had been years ago, and he was out of practice. Anyway, he didn’t want a lengthy debate.
“Can’t you just open a portal and shove me through?”
“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a lot going on today. I’ve only entertained you this long because you and Wong seem to be friends. I’m not just going to mess around to humour you.”
“What if you had to do it?” Roger asked quickly, beginning to feel desperate and preparing to metaphorically jam one of his clumsy feet into the closing window of opportunity.
“Uh, let me think about that,” the Sorcerer droned disinterestedly. “No.”
“What if I attacked you and you opened a portal in self-defence?”
The Sorcerer squinted at him in disbelief and befuddlement.
“What?”
But Roger was already gracelessly throwing his weight into a wild, uncoordinated punch.
For once, he didn’t think critically of himself; he told himself that the Sorcerer’s portal sparked up between them because he was intimidated by Roger’s tenacity. And that it didn’t show a clear destination because the Sorcerer’s reaction speed was no match for Roger using the element of surprise. And that he dove purposely through the portal—on a mission for love and science and the unknown—instead of tumbling into it sideways because the momentum of his unpracticed punch had gotten the better of his balance. It didn’t matter. His feet went out from under him and he was on his way.
Roger had forgotten how intense the trip was, but he completely recalled the rough landing, bouncing down through a stack of the universe’s lost garbage. He shut his eyes to the whooshing and the brightness and braced himself (probably too early, but he didn’t think he could be too careful on this reckless endeavor).
He felt his body hit open air and gasped as he fell, trying to keep his limbs tucked in. The hat he’d been wearing was torn from his head. Didn’t matter; it wouldn’t have offered much protection anyway. At any moment, his poor elbows and knees would be battered by space junk. Between his velocity and his fear of the coming impact, Roger could hardly breathe.
Music. A familiar voice singing, It’s my soulmate! made his eyes fly open. Right in time to land on his back. Whatever was beneath Roger was soft, but he’d still had the wind knocked out of him and was struggling to fill his lungs. His eyes clamped shut as he began to cough.
“I have no idea how you survived that thing twice, but I sure am glad I caught ya.”
Finally sucking in a stronger breath, Roger opened his eyes and looked up. His glasses were askew. Above him was the opening in the ceiling of a hovering spacecraft, but closer than that, leaning over him, was the face of the Grandmaster. He was beaming.
“Any trouble with the Anus?” he asked.
Roger grabbed for the hand his soulmate had rested on his shoulder and moved it to his chest, right over his heart.
“The asshole who got me here will probably be thrilled to never see me again, but the Anus treated me just fine.”
“Ha!” the Grandmaster barked. His free hand lovingly patted Roger’s windblown hair back into place. “Welcome home.”
#my writing#MCU#spider-man#thor: ragnarok#Roger Harrington#En Dwi Gast (the Grandmaster)#their ship name is Mr. Master and they're what G deserves on her birthday
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Tachibana Real Estate is a Good Company?
Minor Yakuza 0 Spoilers
Here’s a real quick little one, scratcher events are pretty straight forward since they always need to have some excuse for the scratchers, but it’s Y0 Kiryu and Oda!
Oda didn’t actually have a card till now, and this is the second full Y0 event. I have no idea why you get Patriarch Daigo as a reward, but I have a bunch of him now. My translation’s probably a little sloppier on this one than usual, but I don’t think I got anything too egregiously wrong.
Summary:
Oda brings Kiryu along on a job to help him make up his mind on if he wants to work with Tachibana or not. A ramen shop with incredible food has hardly any customers thanks to yakuza interference, and they’re going to change that
1988, Kiryu is meeting up with Oda and getting a run down on the empty lot situation. The talk sprite for Kiryu really makes me laugh because it always looks like he’s aggressively not making eye contact or refusing to even face who he’s talking to
They’re doing a job in the champion district, Oda makes a dig at Kiryu being a Dojima Boy, Kiryu snaps back that he’s ex yakuza, thank you. Kiryu asks what exactly they’re doing here, Oda says this place has always had the best ramen in town but it’s been struggling.
Kiryu wonders if he’s just here to do a taste test, Oda says that if that were the case he could have done this solo, but he figured he’d treat Kiryu to some ramen too. Kiryu says he didn’t seem like the type, Oda calls him cute.
They get their ramen, Oda comments that the shop is pretty dingy so it’s not the place Kiryu would have gone on his own, right? Kiryu responds that appearances don’t really bother him as long as the foods good. He tries the ramen and...... it’s amazing! He wonders why the place is empty if it’s so good.
The owner, revealing that he’s been hearing all of this and embarrassing Kiryu, says that with how things are, he's really in the red. Oda offers to buy the land, and the owner agrees that now seems like the right time.
Outside Oda has Kiryu speculate on why there's no customers. It's obviously not the flavor, and the bowls only cost 100 yen. Kiryu wonders how it could possible be empty, there must be foul play. Oda agrees, a yakuza family has been eyeing the land and there's a copy cat store now stealing customers. Oda wants to protect the champion district, so he's going to hold a scratcher event to get customers back.
Kiryu's surprised that Tachibana would stick his neck out for a no name ramen place like this, but Oda says that it's just good management strategy. Kiryu asks if Tachibana told Oda all this directly, he says of course, and Kiryu wants to know Oda's personal opinion on if they should get involved. Oda says that normally he'd suggest just smashing the place and putting a brothel in instead, but he really likes the ramen--he eats there twice a week.
Kiryu goes in to tell the manager that they'll be running the event tomorrow. He's a little worried it won't be enough to save the place, but Kiryu assures him. Unfortunately right after he leaves the patriarch from that yakuza family that's been pressuring him shows up and starts smashing the store up, and steal all the scratchers.
Kiryu and Oda show up the next day, the owner is in the hospital and with the scratchers gone Oda is going to call off the event. Kiryu declares he'll get the scratchers back, and the event will still happen. He plans on storming the yakuza family's office, and Oda says he's going with. They get there, the guy plays dumb, and a fight breaks out.
<EVENT HAPPENS>
Kiryu and Oda kicked the shit out of that whole family--they grovelled and gave back the scratchers.
Kiryu checks back in on the ramen shop (some days later?) and the event is going great, the place is packed, and the owner is all healed up.
Kiryu relays this to Oda and is like "damn guess you guys aren't just money crazed jackasses after all". Oda's like "Pfft well, this is just business. We did this entirely to weaken the threat of the yakuza. Tachibana Real Estate always has it's eye on the long game", which Kiryu kind of laughs at, but doesn’t press it. Oda asks if he's made a decision and Kiryu says yeah, let's go meet Tachibana.
<END>
Bonus:
This is all his surprised face could make me think of I’m sorry
in other news Lee is getting a board game AND a character story! so once I get through the 5 millions lines of kansai-ben translation look forward to spicy new Lee Lore
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hi! can i ask a NSFW alphabet for miya osamu? tysm >.<
NSFW Alphabet (Osamu Miya)
Did not proof read as usual, feel free to correct any errors.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
FUCK. He learned from the best after all. Well, not really? Even before Kita came to picture, Osamu had always taken care of you every after sex without fail. He knows he’s rough sometimes so he gives you time to relax your body and to help you, he’d give you a massage and God, does his hands to wonders. He’d prepare your bath and carry you there like a princess, leaving a wet kiss on your lips before telling you to wait for him because he’ll go cook your favorite food as s reward for taking his cock so well as always.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Osamu loves his man tiddies, he knows he still has the body of a fucking god and you aren’t complaining when he lowkey flexes his muscles in front of you. He loves how your hands move from his shoulders to his pecs, lightly pushing him but not really. Also, he loves your hands and thighs ─ how sensual your touches are and the way your thighs are just perfect in his hands, not the kind that it fits in his but the way it feels so soft and right.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
This man comes so much you’re afraid you’re literally milking him dry. He purposely forgets to buy condoms because he heard you talking to your friend how heavenly it feels when he fucks you raw. What he doesn’t forget to buy are your pills and also Plan Bs just in case, he thinks. When he feels he’s coming, he’d flip you over, pull out, and come on your back and ass. One time, he bit the part of your butt cheek not covered in cum and murmured, “Cinnamon,” under his breath. He comes in you just as many times as he pulls out.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He fingered someone with Nutella and licked her insides clean, at least he thinks he did. I don’t really know why I thought of this. The girl broke up with him the next day because an ant bit her. I’m so sorry for her, really.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Ya’ll think Atsumu is the sex god and the fuckboy between the both of them but noooooo. Osamu Miya may have had lesser partners but he’s slightly better in bed than Atsumu, as the latter had explained once. It just comes to naturally to him, yeah? He’s flexible in his kitchen, fingers and wrists always moving in a graceful manner. And his hips, fuck. Believe me when I say he has never bumped into any furniture in his life. He sways his hips to avoid those and ain’t that fucking hot.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He told me he doesn’t have one. That info about him having a hard time thinking of what he would want to eat as his last meal and that he doesn’t have favorites, yes, it also applies here. As long as it feels good for the both of you, then positions don’t matter.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
This Miya compares everything he sees, does, experiences to food. He’d say your hole is like that of a gaping fish’s mouth whenever you squeeze him good. He’d say your walls are so silk like tofu. He’d chomp on your ass cheeks like how Atsumu chomps on his extra-large serving of onigiris. Reading this, it might seem like sex with him is awkward but no. The way he delivers those words rolls off his tongue so smoothly you just want to be the best food he has ever tasted.
H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Trims once every two weeks and keeps his balls absolutely hairless because he likes you to suck them good every once in a while. His pubes are in a dark shade of brown so yes, it matches his original hair color.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He matches how sensual your hands are with his own. He wants to make you feel loved and appreciated just by touch. He places kisses all over your body, bites your shoulder, nibbles your earlobes, and finally, he gives you the best kiss on your forehead you can’t do anything but to just dip your head in his chest.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
You guys have that connected dildo and fleshlight and he always sends videos to you whenever and wherever. He just can’t stop himself.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
You guessed it right because the first one I thought of is food play. Typical but that’s just how he is.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
I’M SO CLICHÉ BUT FUCK IT. Kitchen, of course, but just the one in your house and not the kitchen in Onigiri Miya but he doesn’t mind fucking you inside his office though.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
He’s so fucked up when he realized he got hard just seeing you eating a banana. You didn’t know that time but when you knew about this, you’d eat at least two bananas every day and you’d purposely eat it sensually in front of him when you want to get dicked. After his realization, he observed how sexy you eat every food, how your cheeks are full, how your mouth opens and closes.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He could never do a knife play with you or with anyone because he has this urge to cook whenever he holds a knife so if you don’t want him making you into a human sushi, don’t bring this up ever again.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
This greedy man prefers receiving and absolutely loses his shit when you suck his balls so good, he wants to come on your face. In the giving aspect, he knows your weak spots so coming from him just eating you out is so easy.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
I said this before and I’ll say it again: We all have these two sides but Osamu leans more on the former! It might seem like he’s all taking and taking in your relationship but he knows you like that as much as he does. He’d usually go slow and sensual when he’s stressed. Might’ve been better if he just slept off his tiredness but he insists on having long foreplays and he rarely sleeps during sex.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He loves it so much he wants to rail you in every corner of his office, the kitchen in your newly-bought house, in the dressing room ─ he’s more subtle than his twin but they’re both monsters in sex, no doubt.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He even fucked you in his office in the grand opening of his new branch with the door open for his staff to see. Of course, he’s always game to experiments as long as he can fuck you senseless in the end.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He lasts longer than Kita by just one round on average. Come on, the man cooks all the time, manages his own business, always eats rice, of course his workouts are hardcore and that’s where his stamina comes from aside from playing volleyball in high school.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
You guys own the connected and personalized fleshligth and dildo set.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Osamu is such a fucking tease. He cooks naked when he’s in the mood but wants you to initiate things, firm ass only for you to see. Comparing you to food isn’t only for when you guys fuck but he’d whisper things in your ear when you’re out in public. He’s a sadist, he wants you to beg for him and when you do, he’d just go faster.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He never shuts up during sex. He makes sure someone always hears you to let them know you’re having sex and he’s not afraid of moaning out the pleasure he’s feeling. He knows you love the sounds he makes; he knows it himself that it’s hot.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He presses his forehead against yours and looks at you in the eyes as he comes.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Broad shoulders, toned torso, man tiddies, firm ass, everything about him is perfect and his cock is, too ─ right length, enough thickness to stretch your aching hole, and his inner thighs always sport scratch marks.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
He literally fucks you anywhere and everywhere, that kind of explains this part.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He takes his time in aftercare just like how he takes time to make you feel loved in every aspect and he doesn’t stop cleaning you up and making you comfortable even if you fell asleep in the tub or while he was giving you a massage. He will only fall asleep when he’s certain that you’re satisfied and well.
#haikyuu x reader#miya osamu#osamu miya#osamu headcanons#osamu hcs#osamu scenarios#character alphabet
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