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carrotsforthewin · 4 years

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the way i love - chapter 3

it might or might not be the middle of the night when I'm writing this and I might or might not have watched an unhealthy amount of good to me fancams. (especially this and this -) a little bit of nswf/suggestive. nothing crazy.

You woke up on that Saturday morning like nothing happened yesterday, then slowly things started to replay in front of you. You can’t let this happen.

Or can you?

You could. But without doing the same stupid things over again. You weren’t sure, really. You couldn’t see yourself become something like he is or even see him fall for you only to break his heart. I mean, he would probably notice if his tricks, his magic was used on him, no?

Anyways, after a quick breakfast - oatmeal with peach jam, you grabbed your duffel bag and hit the gym up. Healthy body for a healthy mind. Your favorite songs blasted through your earphones and you felt like you could move a damned mountain if you wanted to. You worked out through summer, well as much as your lazy schedule after finals and university applications let you; and you loved seeing the results. No, you weren’t becoming the thicc, instagram baddie. You just wanted to feel good in your skin, powerful and hot - for yourself. And now maybe a bit for Mingyu, hoping his head would turn and wish things would’ve worked out otherwise. You weren’t exactly sure anymore. Last night was absolutely no good for your feelings.

The gym wasn’t packed, a few people were hanging around, exercising or talking with the trainers. Yet, somehow a couple of eyes found you.

Soonyoung heard the news even though he wasn’t there to see it with his own eyes, both Mingyu and Seungcheol exchanged a couple of words about it. If he was honest, he tried to befriend you while Mingyu was having his own fun, but you never really had the chance to hang out like that. And when Mingyu finally had enough, he lost contact with you.

- So how’s it going? - he was all smiles, getting the cap off his bottle and drinking.

You took both of your earphones out and after he repeated his question, you retorted - How’s going what, exactly? - you lifted your eyebrow.

-I don’t know. - he shrugged. - Life in general?

-Yeah, Soonyoung. Leave the niceties for someone else. You know these things damn well.

You walked past him, straight to the locker room. Maybe you were a bit too harsh on him, but what was he expecting anyway? You sighed while you packed away your workout clothes, life wasn’t having you right now - or maybe vice versa. One thing you weren’t expecting and that was Kwon Soonyoung leaning to the wall outside, hands in pockets - waiting for you.

-I figured you haven’t consumed your daily dose of caffeine, so how about joining me? - he stopped you from jumping into conclusions: - And before you think I’m asking you on a date: I am just concerned about you. - he explained.

You walked in silence; a content, nice silence. It was nice except the fact that walking outside when it’s windy after a workout session and shower isn’t the best thing. Fortunately, the café he chose was in a bearable distance.

He ordered an americano with a muffin, you stuck to a latte and croissant.

-So why is it that Mingyu’s friends are more concerned about me than him?

He laughed at your question, finding it quite amusing.

-Actually, after seeing your work out, he might be the one in need of friendly concerns.

You never really thought you could bond over Mingyu with someone, but there you were. He wasn’t selling his friend out, you couldn’t say that; he was just trying to make you feel better - at least you hoped it was the motive behind it. It went on for a while. And by that I mean having coffee together, you could be sitting in the library and he would just be there, out of the blue, with a cup of latte. He was really trying to become that best friend. You appreciated it, you didn’t even know you needed someone like that. Well, you were left alone after Mingyu. It’s a long story. You fucked up and realized it too late, anything new? No. And you got to know a lot about Mingyu from now. You didn’t directly ask, these were just some information bits that slipped here and there. He is second year on Management and for whatever reason, he enrolled in another one - thus, the reason he is in a couple of your classes.

So today you wanted to surprise Soonyoung with coffee because he’s been buying your coffee for days now and you started to feel quite uncomfortable as he didn’t let you. So there you were, in one of the many halls, coffee cups laying beside you on the windowsill, he was nowhere to be found yet. He was in one of the classrooms here, taking a test apparently. That early in the semester must suck being a 3rd year. To end your train of thought Kim Mingyu had the audacity to waltz into the same hallway with a suit and tie on, showing his forehead with his hair slicked back. Damn. That, you weren't expecting at all.

As soon as he saw you, he changed his direction and only stopped when he was in front of you. Smirking and looking handsome. Obviously, he had to be a tease so he put his hands on either side of you, leaning a bit into you and you immediately caught a whiff of his cologne. You looked up, straight into his eyes - not backing away from his challenge; not like there was space to back away anyways. He slowly moved his hands from the windowsill to your waist, fiddling with the belt loops of your jeans.

-You know, if I didn’t have a presentation in ten minutes... - he trailed off as he looked down at his hands. - I have a vague idea of what I would be doing.

You forced the lump in your throat down, this time you’re not going to let him win - hopefully. You stood up as straight as you could, your bodies barely inches apart. Oh, he liked it. Too much. He closed the space between you two as he circled his arms around you. You countered him with grabbing his tie, pulling on a bit. His eyes were dangerous, yet you looked straight into them again:

-How unfortunate, Mr. Kim.

Maybe you shouldn’t have called him Mr. Kim, because the next thing you felt was a harsh hand on your ass and his lips on yours attacking with such a fervor you couldn’t remember of him having. Surprise or not, you weren’t going to let yourself lose dominance so easy this time. And he really took it as a challenge, a race and he must win this. He was all hands, bites, your nose filled with his smell and you desperately clung into his neck for leverage. You heard him let out a low growl when you tried to fight him, but he easily overcame your powerless try. His name was called, he heard it too, but he just wasn’t ready with you. Was he ever?

When he eventually let go of you both of you were short of breath. He put his hand on your cheek and you instantly leaned into his touch - fuck. Your noses were still touching.

-I’ll be out in less than twenty minutes. Be a good girl and wait for me, will you?

To top it off he winked and flashed his canines for you before vanishing.

When Soonyoung found you, you looked like you were having a mental breakdown seasoned with a midlife crisis. Maybe you were. You didn’t know anymore, but you knew you are most likely fucking yourself over. And you weren’t ready to tell Soonyoung what happened. You told him you got coffee for the two of you and he hugged you - please don’t smell his cologne. For once you couldn’t wait for your coffee time to come to an ending, because you desperately needed some advice. There was one person who you knew could help as desperate and foolish as it sounds, and this person was Choi Seungcheol himself.

to: Cheol

S.O.S.

from: Cheol

you never learn, do you?

#seventeen #seventeen mingyu #mingyu #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfictions #seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen bad boy au #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu fanfiction #mingyu bad boy au #hiphop unit #hiphop unit reactions #hiphop unit scenarios #hiphop unit imagines

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notmyrick · 4 years

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General Arc 5

/She had a Rick once, but she also had a Diane. Then a Beth. / She and Diane raised Beth without Rick for 3 years, specifically her high school years. Beth was turning out to be a remarkable young woman. But things took a turn for the worse when Diane was hospitalized, near the end of Beth's junior year. She died that summer. "Diane Sanchez died due to depression." The doctor stated as he forlornly gave the news. "According to your reports Ms. Rivas, her body was healthy as could be and her genetic disease was handled with all proper precautions. The forensic department agreed with you. The only underlying cause of death is depression." "But she didn't commit suicide, a heart just doesn't stop when you want it to." Roxx reasoned. She couldn't accept Diane's death, not like this. The doctor gave her a sympathetic look, before answering. "It's unexplainable I know, and it is hard to accept a person's death. The best way I could explain this phenomenon is like trying to prove why medical miracles happen. Sometimes things just happen without rhyme or reason, there is nothing scientific about them. And where there are miracles, there exist the opposite, tragedies." "So your just saying, she was a medical tragedy!" "I'll give you a moment with the patient to mourn." The doctor left and Roxx turned her head to the window which hosted Diane's body. She entered the room and cried silent tears as she held the cold hand. Beth was interning at a different hospital, so she wasn't here. Roxx felt as cold as the body, but she knew that was a lie. "Why? Why did you leave us? I finally got you back." Roxx kissed Diane on the forehead before wallowing in her own grief. /She had a Rick once, but she also had a Diane. Then a Beth. / It was late at night and Beth was over at a friend’s house. Her daughter was enjoying her senior year of high school as she only had 2 core classes and the rest were extracurriculars. When it was only Roxx and Diane raising her, Beth started to both call them her mothers. Roxx never felt so much joy that night when Beth called her mother; Diane didn't mind, she even encouraged it. Roxx was home alone drinking wine. She already finished a whole bottle and was debating opening another. Suddenly she heard noise coming from the garage. She grumbled to herself and got a box of Lucky Charms from the cabinet. Beth exited the house through the garage when her friend picked her up. She would not be surprised if she left the door open for the raccoons to come in. She unlocked the door to the garage, ready to throw the cereal to the driveway for the raccoons to chase. As soon as she opened the door a drunk Rick fell on top of her. She yelped as they both kissed the ground. The clearly drunk as fuck Rick passed out as soon as she opened the door and the less coordinated Roxx fell due to the influence of alcohol and surprise. The cereal box spilled all over the floor, but that was instantly forgotten for the more pressing issue at hand. Roxx maneuvered the blue haired man off her for a moment so she could drag him to the living room. Although the living room was only 12 feet away from the where they were at. With Roxy’s lack of coordination factored with Rick's height and weight, the result was her hitting her hips and stubbing her toes against surfaces. It wasn’t until she flopped him onto the couch did, she hear his mutterings. "It’s all my fault. I did this. Why am I so toxic? I deserve this, I should never be happy." Roxx was sad that Rick was muttering these things. She stumbled her way through the house, though not as much anymore with the lack of mass hauling her down and a little bit more sober. She started to clean Rick up. She wiped away assumed vomit on his lips, grabbed his flask from his hand so it doesn't spill, and stripped him of his dirty coat. As she was about to put the coat in the laundry, but first she emptied out his pockets for anything important. She took out some electronics and a few pieces of paper. She was curious and unraveled the pieces. One was a noted from one of his friends, a person named Bird person. Coordinates that look like it can be inputted into the portal gun. And a certificate. She flattened out the as best she could try to read it. Her eyes widened, she turned the paper over and saw taped to the back of the certificate was a picture of Rick, Diane, Roxx, and Beth, all smiling. She looked at the drunk on her couch as she began to weep once more. The certificate in Rick's lab coat was Diane's death certificate, with the cause of death highlighted. /She had a Rick once, but she also had a Diane. Then a Beth. / "Your mom would say you look beautiful." Roxx said as she placed a necklace on Beth's neck. She was dressed for her high school prom, looking absolutely stunning. "Thank you mother." Beth smiled at the same vanity that used to be Diane's. Roxx smiled in response to her daughter. As she led her daughter down stairs, Rick appeared at the end of the stair case and looked at Beth up and down. "Change." "Rick." "She's not going to prom like that." "You were there when we went dress shopping, you were the one who picked this dress." "And now, I'm saying the dress is too inappropriate for my little girl." Beth chuckled as Roxy and Rick argued about her. "I know these little shits because I was one of those little shits! Beth will attract those horny prepubescent boys like a moth to a flame!" "And you know what Rick, if they get too close to our Beth, they will get burned. Baby girl, I give you full permission to kick a boy’s ass if they get a bit too familiar with you. Don't worry about lawsuits, I can win them." Roxx comforted both Rick and Beth. Beth smiled at her parents and gave them both a hug. Both parents reciprocated as the doorbell rang. Beth's friends squealed at the sight of her and thus began the grueling process of photographing. Rick oversaw all the pictures as Roxx relaxed on the sideline. Rick lost rock, paper, scissors. However, it wasn’t as "troublesome" as Rick complained about it to be. She saw a brief smile as he took pictures for Beth with her friends. She sat down on the couch reading her favorite book with a plate of cannolis beside her as she heard her husband yell "More?!" And the group of giggling girls moved to the backyard. She turned the page. ------ "You piece of shit!" Roxxanne held a boy by the collar of his shirt against the wall. He was nervous and confused. She lifted him off the wall before slamming him right against it again. This hormonal teenage child had the audacity to come to her house, after he knocked up her daughter, and dare say to her that he could support her. All because Beth did a pity lay. A DAMN PITY LAY. Because she felt sorry for the guy who seemed to be the next top candidate for 40-year-old virgin, Beth had sex with this no spine, conniving, useless, shit stain of a man. Her Beth was having a midlife crisis at the age of 17! Luckily Rick took Beth out today for some quality father daughter bonding time. Because if Beth was home and saw this tool out here, she no doubt have another mental breakdown. "M... ma-... m-ma'am. I- I promise to support Beth..." "So you don't think I can't support my own daughter, you punk!" "N-no! Not at all. Not that I mean you can't support her, I mean you can obviously support her, we would be blessed if you could support us!" "So you were planning to dependent on us! Am I and my husband only cash cows to you!" "No that wasn't what I was trying to imply!" "What are you trying to imply!" "I know Beth is a smart girl and she has dreams to become a surgeon. So a child will obviously hinder her plan-" "Boy you better stop while your ahead of yourself." "I'm just saying the cost of an abortion-" Roxxanne flung the brown haired boy to the side and grabbed a belt from the coat closet and used it as a whip. The sudden sound scared the boy as his eyes grew wide. "You! Don't get a say in anything. You don't even mention this possibility to my daughter. What she does with your unwanted sperm donation is up to her. If she wants to keep the child, she'll keep the child, if she wants an abortion, she will get the abortion. She does not need your shit filled input to decide what she can or cannot do to HER body. Don't you dare try to make her lean towards one choice or the other for your shitty fantasy." She stepped menacingly toward the boy who crawled backwards toward the door. "Regardless of her choice, your life belongs to me. You WILL take responsibility for your actions. You WILL listen to every command I give you. And you WILL compensate by any means necessary for the troubles you inflicted on MY daughter." At each emphasis Roxx whipped the belt at the feet of the young boy, effectively scaring him as he edged closer and closer to the door. "You will pay for you actions Jerry Smith, I guarantee you that." Finally the young boy scrambled up at the door and ran out of her house. When he left, she place the belt back into the closet, grabbed a glass of wine, and waited for her daughter and husband to come back. /She had a Rick once, but she also had a Diane. Then a Beth. / "Are you sure mother?" "Yes, yes, yes. A million times yes! Don't worry, Rick and I got this, just have fun with Jerry. Okay baby girl?" Roxx shooed her daughter away toward her husband Jerry. They said goodbye to Roxx and Rick as the blue haired man held onto their granddaughter. Beth and Jerry ended up keeping the baby and did a shotgun wedding. Because Beth wanted to keep the baby, she thought she would have to give up being a surgeon. Roxx quickly dismissed that idea saying she and Rick could watch over the baby while she's getting her degree. They argued for a while, but Roxx ultimately won at the end. In addition, because Roxx believed Beth was too good for Jerry, the only way the stupid male could marry her daughter was to be at the same level as her. So, the first thing she had a problem with Jerry was his looks. Instantly she made him do military drills from all sectors, 6 days a week for 12 hours every day, not including mealtimes. Not only did his body barely become passable, his personality shifted 30 degrees in the right direction. He was still annoying and dumb, but at least he can be passable eye candy. After military training was done, she encouraged him (read forced) to pick a major that won’t embarrass her daughter. All the art majors were immediately disqualified for him. He ended up picking marketing, which wasn't the best, but it would not embarrass her daughter. She made sure Jerry understood, passed, and excelled on all his classes. Only when he was on his way to finish his undergraduate’s degree and got a paid internship with a ladder system, did she deem him as a viable candidate for Beth's husband. Not the best, but viable. Only then did she approve of their marriage. They may have married young, but she didn't let Jerry lived with them until last year. Up until then, he still lived in his parents’ house and only visited Beth, not even staying over nights. Anyway, Rick carried their 2-and-a-half-year-old granddaughter to the living room. She wasn't as smart as Beth, but she was smarter than average. Summer amused herself with crayons and paper and went to her room. Roxx leaned against Rick and sighed. "I am way too young to have a grandchild already. My hair didn’t even start graying yet." "I know the feeling, we don't even qualify for the early bird special yet." They chuckled as the TV played in the background. "So I was thinking..." "And what thoughts are going inside that mind of yours." Rick replied as he kissed the top of her head. "Maybe we should move out." "Roxx..." "Just hear me out Rick. This house is worth more to us than mansions in California, penthouses in New York, or even estates in Texas. This place has sentimental value. So, I don’t want to sell it. Plus, we already bought it out. We can give the deed to Beth, under her name. She can start a family here and grow into the person I know she could be." "And what does us having to move out clash with Beth's development." "You know there isn’t enough space here for all of us, especially if Beth wants her family to grow. Plus, Beth has grown a dependency on us, specifically you. This dependency can impair judgment, we both know that. Look I'm not saying we should go across the globe. I'm just saying, maybe 30 min. Or an hour away drive. Close enough if she really needs us, but far enough to deter her from "casually" dropping by." Roxx laid her head against Rick's chest drawing patterns on his chest. "Plus, instead of having to stay at a motel every time one of us want to do it, we have our own place." Rick grabbed Roxy’s ass and gave it a firm squeeze. "Should've argued with that first." "Shut up." She smiled and chuckled.

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davidmann95 · 6 years

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Since you just announced it on Twitter, what did you think of Kraven’s Last Hunt?

May not be contemporary in the broader sense, but I suppose it’s contemporary for me, and that’s good enough. Short answer: I liked it quite a bit and like it more the longer I sit on it.

On a certain conceptual level, this initially reminded me of Dark Phoenix Saga, in that like that I felt (as reinforced by DeMatteis originally conceiving of this as Wonder Man and then Batman stories) this was a template that could have fit for essentially any character that simply happened to be attached to this one, albeit benefiting from Spider-Man’s vulnerability, and with the critical difference that it’s good. A very different manner of good from the other Very Good Major Comics Of 1986-1987, all symbol and emotion and impressionistic interpretations of what’s in theory a rather straightforward - if necessarily intense and intimate - supervillain plot to humiliate and break a superhero. And Zeck walks that fine line of solid, tangible ‘realism’ and stylized, frenetic, overblown excess necessary for a book this simultaneously ground-level and psychedelic; a perfect Spider-Man artist, when I put it like that. There are elements that necessarily eluded me on Kraven’s end, lacking as I am in a meaningful grounding in either the Russian Revolution or the works of William Blake, but at the end of the day they’re simply incredibly good, even if the nature of its incarnation was something of happenstance.

But the truth is, that this project ended up a Spider-Man story is crucial to how it ultimately works, far beyond Peter’s inherent ability to rightfully freak the fuck out at his circumstances in a way Bruce Wayne could never entirely pull off (though that element, and how well it works here, really does make this the genesis of the particular breed of Serious Spider-Man Stories that I’ve always loved, even as I know they shouldn’t constitute Pete’s bread and butter). As an artifact unto itself, as a singular ‘graphic novel’ thesis on Parker, it’s the ultimate statement against, and ultimately redemption of, the concept of him as a larger-than-life figure. Kraven’s modeled his entire life around refusing to accept the humble Earthliness of things in search of a greater purpose, casting himself the noble scion of a lost kingdom of glory, turned champion against the great monsters of the world, because the alternative is that he’s a 70 year old man with likely undiagnosed mental illness who hunts down and shoots a college dropout in the face before getting in a wrestling match with an overgrown sewer rat to try and get over his midlife crisis. And he so nearly pushes Peter into that same mindset with drugs and isolation and savagery, but in the end, no; just like the supposed Vermin who stalks the corners of the piece, he’s just a dude. So profoundly just a dude that even a lifetime of pathology and self-delusion can’t stop Kraven from recognizing it in the end. Yet even as he brings his own story to an end, satisfied and unable to see another purpose in life, Sergei sees the greater truth: Peter may not have been The Spider, but Spider-Man was his Spider, just as he has been to so many others, and that battle and that story truly is something miraculous and worth taking pride in.

Outside its isolated context however, at least for me, it takes the role of climax to a greater narrative arc of Spider-Man vs. Depression. See, the form I happened to read this in was “The Amazing Spider-Man Epic Collection Vol. 17″, which also includes Amazing Spider-Man #289-292 + annuals 20 & 21, Spider-Man Versus Wolverine, and Web of Spider-Man #29-30. And what they consistently present in the unwitting leadup to this is a Peter Parker whose life isn’t rocked by constant disaster and upheaval, but is just believably shitty and mundane and empty, made up of unrewarding routines, drab surroundings and a handful of compromised half-formed relationships. He’s thinking hard about giving up as Spider-Man again, consciously wondering at one point why he isn’t happy with his life as things stand, and most of all he’s reeling from his encounter with Wolverine. An encounter that not only resulted in the death of an acquaintance, but threw him into a narrative space where he as a traditional superhero simply doesn’t function, rendered emasculated and ineffectual in the face of a very different model of superheroic realism culminating in blood on his own hands. He wanders through the aftermath in a daze, even as he primarily (and as I know you discuss on your blog Fearful Symmetry - which I’m finally reading now that I’ve read this - crucially) focuses on Ned’s loss rather than taking a life himself, his sole meaningful respite his love and ultimately marriage to* Mary Jane. But just as the haze seems to be lifting and life feels real and meaningful again, the hammer comes down when the darkness is over him again for a moment in the wake of another death, sending him spiraling into a hallucinatory nervous breakdown. It’s only by readmitting his vulnerability to himself, by holding on to the single emotional tether he’s permitted himself in his wife, and by in the end refusing to succumb to the panic and hate threatening to take him over, that he literally crawls up out of the ground twice, once out of the ground and the second time back into the light.

It’s not as good as the Kraven arc in Squirrel Girl though. But still pretty good.

* Speaking as a fan of the Spider-Marriage, and having just read it and the context around it for the first time:Holy SHIT that did not work and I don’t blame creators throwing fits behind the scenes. The annual itself is great, but in the leadup - literally the issue before the proposal - Peter and MJ are kinda unofficially seeing each other and also he’s still clearly hooking up with Black Cat. And then in one issue he decides “something feels incomplete, I should get my life as Peter sorted out” and pops the question out of fucking NOWHERE. MJ is understandably like “um???” but then accepts a couple issues later and that’s that.It’s UNBELIEVABLY weird. Not that Peter Fuckin’ Parker couldn’t do something that stupid if he’d had a bad enough time of things recently to fry his head (which he most definitely had), but that it in any way works out.

#Spider Man #Spider Man: Kraven's Last Hunt #Kraven #Opinion

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airgloweffect · 5 years

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Office Liaisons Part 1/3

A/N: I apologise for any mistakes I have made or overlooked.

OFFICE LIAISONS

TOM's POV

Shit fuck shit fuck SHIT FUCK

God damn women and their ….their womaness. I'm slipping and that isn't even a word for fuck's sake.

"Crucio", I lazily flicked my wand towards some random Death Eater, even torturing my followers wasn't having the usual effect it normally did to distract me from thoughts of her. Fucking Hermione Granger. God damn bitch.

There was nothing I couldn't accomplish, I had enough drive and ambition to succeed. But she, she was fucking everywhere. I loathe her, but I want her.

Disgusted, I shook my head cutting off the torture curse. "Get out of my sight, leave me be".

"My lord", another Death Eater bowed and began dragging away the one I tortured by the foot. I rounded my desk and sat down rubbing my forehead. I'm 25 but I feel as though I'm in the midst of a midlife crisis. I even went to Albania, I mean fucking Albania who the hell goes there(?), hoping the distance would give me some peace. I'm an idiot for believing it would.

At night when I close my eyes all I can see, feel and smell is her. What it feels like to loom over her flushed sweaty skin, the sweet ache, need for each other, the wanting, having her legs wrapped around my waist. Being inside her, is the most blissful torture, but all it did was increase my hunger for her. I currently feel like a fucking junkie waiting for the next fix.

I'm losing my god damned mind. It was terrifying to me, but in the moments, we shared together, I would do literally anything she asked, be anything she wanted me to be. Fuck, Lord Voldemort did not concede to anyone. But her- she is my weakness.

She is single handedly ruining my business plans for dominating the corporate world. I planned to own it/control it, but she is distracting. With her tight pencil skirts, and sexy lingerie. God those lilac coloured knickers with the lace trim…… My eyes flickered momentarily to the top draw of my desk.

I groaned letting my head hit the desk with a load thud. She's going to be the death of me. Death by sexual torture.

At least it was a hell of a way to go

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Hermione's POV

Who the hell does he think he is? God damn panty stealing, sociopathic bastard.

I was a strong-willed independent woman. I have worked hard to get where I am, and I will not let him get in the way. I will be strong and resist him. Yes, I will resist him! No more hot, sweaty, intense best orgasm inducing sex of my life for me. No nope no zip zilch zero. No lusting after the sinfully sexy orgasm denying bastard.

I loved my job fighting for magical creatures’ rights. My consulting firm worked closely with his firm, especially to do with land holdings and any magical beings involved in the company. So yes, we saw each other regularly, I suspected he enjoyed arguing with me which then devolved into sex. And panty stealing.

Pervert. Probably has a whole draw full of my underwear.

Ugh god damn his magical hands and tongue.

I stormed my way down the hallway to my office. I felt flushed and off balance. I slammed the door shut and fell back against it. I wandlessly put up a silencing spell and screamed out my frustration. Banging my head repeatedly against it.

I haven't seen the prick since last week and already he is invading my dreams. I woke up this morning a panting sweaty mess, I even orgasmed in my sleep. Imagining him fucking six me ways to Sunday, hearing his husky voice pant my name as he came, the illicit noises he makes as he enters me, the sound of our sweaty bodies slapping together in heated bliss and having his eyes on me while he licks my clit.

Thinking like this is going to my undoing. I continued to thump my head against my door.

He's driving me insane. Asshole.

He's fucking Evil

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Hermione's POV

Two more days have passed, and I think I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown. Sex induced- or lack thereof mental breakdown. The worse thing about this situation is I have an appointment with him this afternoon. I wonder how this is going to go.

I sigh, my panties are wet already. Traitorous body.

Wanker

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Tom's POV

I glare at my calendar willing it into burst into flames. It doesn't.

I lean back in my chair, twirling my wand through my fingers. A habit I developed in Hogwarts.

She has an appointment this afternoon. All I can think about is what panties she will be wearing. Will she be wet for me? I'm so pent up in sexual frustration I would probably cum at just seeing them. I can't even wank probably anymore. She's ruined me.

Bitch

#tomione #tomione fanfiction #fanfic #tomriddle #hermionegranger #tomxhermione #tomriddlexhermionegranger #story #shortstory #officefun #bored at the office #tomioneshipwillnotsink

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ecotone99 · 5 years

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I bought my daughter an iDog... and I think it's hunting me

My name is Guy Mullen, I’m a robotic science professor working at the Boston Institute of Technology in Massachusetts. I was once a proud father of a six year old girl named Hope, who, sadly, was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Despite fighting like the total champion she was, Hope died not too long after her 6th birthday. Before she died, she asked me to buy her a weird little toy that was currently popular on the market called an I-Dog, a simplistic robotic toy dog that did tricks. My daughter was 6 years old, so it intrigued me that she wanted a tech-toy rather than the usual doll or teddy bear girls of her age would want.

At the time, I thought nothing of it, because me, a professor of robotics, thought it was like a chip off the old block kind of thing. It made me proud. I went into the store today and happened to pass the toy department. I noticed that the same toy dogs were still on the market and selling like hotcakes, so I bought one. The stores around my area for some reason sell old toys. Guess people still like the classics.

And if you’re wondering why I got her this toy now rather than she was alive, let me explain. My daughter, being 6 years old, I didn’t want her to follow along in my footsteps. I wanted her to have a normal childhood. Like I said, teddy bears and dolls. As I got home, I opened it up and started holding the toy in my hands. It was just a cheap toy. But I guess the guilt of not getting it for her while she was alive was eating at me too much. I had no idea why my daughter would be so interested in this toy. I wish I knew then what I was in for, I never would have bought this toy. But as a father, you always want to get your child what he or she wants. It’s one of the joys of being a parent. It’s one of the joys I wish now was never part of being a good parent.

Today is the 8th anniversary of Hope’s passing. I’m going to the cemetery to visit her grave, like I do every year on the anniversary of her passing. But instead of the usual flowers I bring, I’m going to bring this toy dog, to show her that I never forgot. The I-Dog I got for her at the store supposedly played various songs from an mp3 player. Which was a good thing, because she had an extended list for a girl of her age. I would often let her use my mp3 player to play all her favorites. I’m glad, because I still had my mp3 player with all her favorite songs on it. It brought back memories of her and I singing together to her favorite songs on the car radio. Each new one she heard in the car, I would put it in my mp3 player and let her listen to them while she did what little homework she had in the 1st grade. Such a smart little girl. She should have gotten her chance to finish school. It would have been nice to see what her life would have turned out to be.

I took the small toy, the batteries, and the mp3 player from my handbag. I unscrewed its belly, set the batteries inside, then it made that robotic barking that it would make. I set the mp3 player by it, and it played the last song we ever listened to, “What is Love” By Haddaway, while doing that silly robotic dance it does. I watched as it danced a while longer, then left for home to drown my sorrows in tears and liquor. She deserved better. She deserved to be alive.

The next morning, I woke up with such a hangover, I made myself a cup of black coffee so strong that the spoon had a caffeine rush, in hope to kill the now massive headache I had. I remember leaving the music channel on tv. It just made the headache worse, so I shut it off. Minutes later, I nearly choked on my coffee after hearing an oh too familiar song. Her song. It was coming from outside my front door, but seemed to stop once I took notice of it. “What on earth?” I asked myself. I opened the door and looked outside. I didn’t see much, other than the usual. Houses, cars, birds, sunlight, even the local paper boy delivering newspaper. I noticed he stopped at my house when I stepped on the paper. I might as well pick it up. See what’s new in Boston. I picked it up, then turned around, then turned a pale white even whiter than snow. In the doorway of my house sat that toy. That music playing childs toy. The very same blue one with the fake purple jewels around it’s head, the one that I had bought not even a day before left at Hope’s grave.

“What in the hell…?” I looked around to see who would play such a cruel joke, then quickly picked up the toy, went inside the house and got dressed, and immediately went back to the cemetery. When I got there, the toy I had left there was gone. Engulfed with rage, I asked myself why someone would do something like this and proceeded to call the police. The police arrived and asked the usual, “do you have any enemies?” or, “why would anyone want to do this to you?” questions. I had no answer, for I had no enemies. All my friends knew Hope, and loved her as much as I did. It was a mystery.

By the time I got back home, my brain was tired from trying to figure out who would do this to me. Did someone see me do this? Did they watch me put this on my daughters grave? Did a bunch of teenage hoodlums desecrate my daughters grave, and add insult to injury by bringing this toy back to my doorstep? I couldn’t make sense of that though, because no one was around me when I was in the cemetery. And if they were, they were damn good at hiding. Exhausted and furious from the day’s events, I decided to give it no more thought and go to sleep. Or so that was my intention.

In the middle of the night, I was awoken by the sound of music. Not loud music, but loud enough to wake me out of my sleep. I looked at the clock. 3:30 AM. The music that I

heard sounded muffled, yet close. I pulled my blankets off to get out of bed, and as I did the music got louder. It was then that I noticed the toy was next to me, under my sheets. Which was impossible, considering the police had taken it as evidence. Not only that, but the toy had my mp3 player connected to it. Which was playing her 2nd favorite song, called Butterfly Kisses by Bob Carlisle.

Now I’m afraid, because the only person who knew that was her second favorite song was me. It was our song. We sang it only to each other. Not even her mother knew. How is this possible? I immediately called the police to ask how something they took from me as evidence is now in my bed. I also asked if I was being investigated for something, considering how the only way anybody could have known that was our song was if they bugged our house. Immediately I was hit with ridiculous notions of some kind of technology war scenario were maybe a disturbed colleague might be playing some kind of deranged joke. All these questions and not a single answer. What the hell is going on here?

Confused and disoriented, I grabbed the toy, disconnected the mp3 player, and proceeded to take the toy out to the trash. The special meaning that it once held, now desecrated by someone’s twisted mind. I have to get some rest. The morning will be here quickly and I have to work in the morning.

That morning had an eerie chill about it. I couldn’t place it, but I attributed it to my recent episodes of neurotic paranoia. I got to work. The environment felt suspicious. Like I was being watched. I said nothing to no one, and made a straight line for my office. I opened my office door, walked in, shut the door quickly, and took a deep breath of relief. I had made it to my office without being asked a single question, as I was in no mood to talk to anyone.

I went to set my briefcase on my desk, and to my horror, the toy was on my desk. Not only was it on my desk, but my mp3 player that I placed in my briefcase the night before was connected to it.

Surprisingly enough, and for reasons I don’t yet understand, my first thought was one of morbid curiosity. I was anxious to know what song was selected to play this time around, because at this point, I was starting to think maybe this isn’t someone trying to play a joke. But what if it’s her. What if it’s Hope in some miraculous way trying to visit me. to let me know she hasn’t forgotten me either. But I’m a man of science. And in my world, things like this don’t happen. I’ve always been a skeptic, and found myself judging those who’ve claimed to have these experiences as kooks.

Is that what’s going on here? Is this a punishment? Am I going crazy as punishment for judging those people? Was I having a midlife crisis?

After work, I rushed home, locked myself in my home office, and found myself doing something I thought I, never in a million years, would find myself doing. I started talking to the dog. Reluctantly, I asked, “Hope, are you there? It’s Daddy, sweetheart. Are you trying to show me something?” Then for a moment, I snapped back to reality, laughed at myself, and asked myself, “What the hell am I doing?” At this point, I started to question my sanity and wondered if I should check myself into a mental hospital for evaluation. That was the only logical explanation left. I was losing my mind, and no one could see it but me. On top of everything else that ever happened to me, me going crazy was the icing on the cake.

I really didn't want to, but I was sure that this was the only way I can get some closure. I'm going to check myself into a mental hospital to ensure that this isn't making me crazy before anything gets worse. But first, this toy. This god damn toy. It has to go. I'm gonna make sure of that. I picked up a hammer, and smashed the thing into bits. I put the pieces into a plastic bag, and watched the garbage men take it away the next morning.

A week later, I checked into the mental hospital. I’m much better now. I was just having a mental breakdown and needed a vacation. It’s finally over. No more stress, no more heartbreak, no more I-Dog. Because the nurses were so nice, they all pitched in and bought me a plane ticket to Florida to relax. I just checked into my hotel room. And as I set my luggage down, and getting ready to plop onto the bed and let out a huge sigh of relief, I noticed in the room, there was that thing. The I-Dog. And the song it chose was “Nowhere to run.” By Arnold Mcculler.

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