Work Text:
"Pssst."
You take off your headphones and turn your head, trying to look for where the sound was coming from.
"Hey loser," The voice says.
You realize that it's coming from a girl across the hallway, gorgeous, with pale skin and long black shiny hair. You recognized her from one of your classes. You hadn't interacted, quite the opposite. She was like a god on campus; everyone either loved or feared her. But you had nothing in common, she couldn't possibly be talking to you.
"Yes, I'm talking to you, with the headphones," she says rolling her eyes.
You bite the inside of your cheek. You open your mouth to say something, but you're not sure what. But luckily, you don't have to think too hard, because she's standing up and walking over to your seat.
"You're really slow for someone who's supposed to be smart, you know that?"
"What?" you ask, utterly confused.
"I wanted to ask for a favor. Actually, scratch that. You're going to do something for me. Understand?"
"I don't," you say, finding some confidence, "why would I do that for you?"
"You don't have to I suppose," she says, she tilts her head and pretends to think, "It would just be a shame if such a star student were to lose their scholarship over a violation of the academic code."
"What do you mean?"
She suddenly picked up your backpack that was sitting on the floor and slung it on her shoulder.
"It would be a shame if the dean found out you had the highest marks in Professor McKay's class because you had a hard copy of the exam questions, would it?"
"I didn't do that, please give me my backpack."
"Just come with me then, don't make a big deal about it. I'll give you your stuff back; you won't get in trouble."
"Okay, fine," you said. You really didn't want her to pester you any longer. And even if her threats were empty promises, you didn't want to take the chance. You needed your scholarship to stay at the college you spent your entire high school career studying to get into.
"I knew you'd come around dork. Follow me," she said sing-songy, as if she just didn't threaten to end your academic career.
You followed her begrudgingly, scared of what was to come. You'd seen, from a distance of course, how she treated other people she thought was beneath her. And you were definitely the type of person she would think of as the gum on her shoe.
You walked down one of the oldest buildings on campus, worn down brick walls and flickering ceiling lights. It was like something out of a horror movie. God, she wasn't about to murder you, right?
You reached the end of the hallway and saw her take a key out of the pocket of her jeans and turned the lock open.
"You can go first," she said, offering a smile that did not give you reassurance. But you needed your backpack. It had your laptop and your wallet and your car keys and basically everything important, so you stepped into that old empty classroom no matter how bad of a decision you thought this might be.
You heard the door close and the turn of a lock behind you. You froze for a second. Suddenly the world seemed quiet.
"Go and sit down, hm?"
You took a seat at one of the desks in the front row.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
You blinked, not realizing that you had been staring at her ever since you sat down.
"You're looking at me like I'm sort of monster," she said, dropping your backpack by your feet. "Don't worry," she bent down to whisper something in your right ear, "I won't bite."
You tried to stay still as possible. You didn't want to let on that the words she was saying had an effect on you, but it was clear that she could tell, because when she pulled back, she had a stupid smirk on her face.
"Anyways, I brought you here for this," she grabbed a pink binder from her purse and tossed it onto the desk. "Why don't you go and have a read through?"
You opened the binder and saw the first paper Shakesperean Literature 2010.
The Tempest. 3,000 words.
You closed the binder. You didn't want to see what the other pages had to offer.
"That's for my elective. So stupid, I mean, I'm a business major, how is reading Shakespeare going to help me anywhere in life? Besides, practice doesn't give me enough time to study even if I wanted to."
"But I don't take that class, I wouldn't know-"
"You're on an academic scholarship; you're supposed to be smart. You can figure it out, can't you?"
She said earlier that she won't bite, but by God, it felt like you were a little rodent and she was a giant snake that was going to eat you.
"I don't know," you said quietly, looking down at the binder in front of you.
"Why don't we go through the rest of it, hm?"
She opened the binder for you and flipped to the second page.
"Calculus, just 4 questions, it should only take you 2 hours."
She flipped to the next page.
"This is for my ethics class. A goody two shoes like you should care about this kind of stuff, right?"
Next page.
"Economics. This is just the rubric so do it online and email it to me when you're done."
Next page, and the last one, thank God.
"Accounting. Don't worry this is easy, I can actually do this myself, but why would I when I have you?"
She shut the binder and it made you flinch. She giggled.
"You're like a scared kitty cat. Everything spooks you."
"You want me to do all of these assignments for you?"
"Well duh-" she rolled her eyes. "I wasn't showing them to you just for fun loser."
"I can't do this for you, I have my own assignments, it's just not possible," you said out loud, your chest heaving up and down. It was getting hard to breathe. Did someone turn the thermostat up in that room?
"Hey, look at me," you felt her tilt your chin up with her finger. "Breathe with me, okay?"
She took a deep inhale, which you copied, letting as much oxygen into your lungs as you could possibly, and then copied her as she exhaled. Was that peppermint you could smell?
"Good girl," she said, smiling, but somehow less sinister this time. "I'm only asking you to do my homework, not beating you up within an inch of your life. Which I could totally do, by the way, but I don't want to have to wash blood off my clothes."
She pushed the binder on the desk closer to you.
"But if you don't want to do it, that's okay. I'm sure the girls on the soccer team would love to know your little secret."
You froze. You clenched your jaw.
"Do you remember, what I called you before?"
You stayed silent, trying not to shake.
"Come on, say it out loud. What did I call you before I told you I could beat you to a pulp?"
You found yourself saying out loud what you knew she wanted you to say.
"A g-good girl," you whispered.
"That's right!" She said artificially enthusiastically, bending down to rest her elbows on the desk and putting her chin in her palms. "You're such a smart puppy!"
You felt your cheeks grow red and hot and her hand reached out to ruffle the hair on top of your head as if you were a dog.
"I know you liked being called that. You want to know how I found that out?"
You would have shaken your head no, but you knew that she was going to say what she wanted regardless.
"You fell asleep, in Professor McKay's class -honestly I'm surprised that you don't actually have the exam answers because you fall asleep in that class a lot, but anyways- you had your headphones on, and a notification popped up on your phone. And you can really tell how cramped that lecture hall is because I saw the title of the podcast you were listening to on Spotify. Can you guess which one it was?"
At this question you shook your head no, because you listened to too many f4f ASMR audios, which you didn't want to admit, so this was literally your worst nightmare. But yet-
"Mommy calls you a good puppy."
You blushed at that title. She wasn't even calling you that directly and you still reacted.
"So if you're the puppy, what does that make me?"
You gripped the sides of your seat and tried to lean back to create space, but with the height difference she easily leaned over the desk until her lips were right up against your ear.
"Tell me what my name is baby," she whispered.
"M-mommy."
She pulled back a little bit just to smirk at you, and then her mouth found your ear again.
"Say it a bit louder, and without stuttering. I know you want to be a good girl for me."
"Mommy," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
She pulled back fully and gave you a bigger smile.
"Good job baby!" She said, and she pat you on the head.
God. She was treating you like you were actually a dog. It ought to be demeaning, offensive, but you didn't want her to stop.
"You're Mommy's good puppy, right?"
You nodded your head.
"And good puppies do whatever their mommies tell them to do, right?"
Another head nod.
"So that means you'll do what Mommy says and do all her assignments?"
Final head nod.
"Say it out loud puppy."
"I'll," you paused, looking up at her, "I'll do what Mommy says and do all her assignments."
"Good girl!"
She took her index finger and tapped it against your nose. She looked at you, but not like prey to devour, but like some sort of pet. She reached out with her left hand and ran her fingers through the right side of your hair. You shuddered as you felt her fingertips on your scalp and shivered as you felt her right hand reach out to caress the left side of your face. Her thumb slowly traveled across your bottom lip.
"What a good puppy for Mommy. You've been such a good girl, but there's just one more thing I need you to do for me before I let you go. Okay?"
You nodded, and your eyes never left her sight. She took her hands off you, and you whined.
"God you're so pathetic," she scoffed. "You're lucky you're cute."
You bit your lip, trying not to make an embarrassing sound, but that would prove to be useless.
"Go and bark for me puppy. Really try. Make it really sound like the mutt you are."
You wanted to say, "No, I'm not a puppy, I'm not a mutt, and I'm not a dog!"
But you said none of that. It was silent for a moment, until you let the sound come out of your mouth.
"Woof!"
A smile appeared on her lips.
"Good dog."