#campus au

[mblue-art]

and then we unceremoniously get shoved into a closet for 7 mins after the game (😳)

(based on this)

#lust!sans #self insert #mblue art #god what i would do for him to look at me like that- full on yearning and stuff oh my gog you guys #PLEASE holy crud i made him look so sans in here im going two die actually?!!?!? 💘 💘 💘 #(/insert one of those heart memes/ GAAAAH HE'S SO HANDSOMMME HELP MEEE) #7mins in heaven? hell yeah it better be dawg i'll do whatever he wants-💥 #campus au #lm

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Prerequisite

Masterlist

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, power imbalance, blackmail, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You attempt to move on from your time with Professor Hansen, but can't seem to shake the past.. (plus sized reader)

Characters: Ransom Drysdale, some Lloyd Hansen

A note on reader characters:

For clarity,  each reader will have a defined nickname when appearing in any installment not their own. This is Flora, previously featured in Below Average. This fic also features characters from various installments.

Note: Finally got this on paper.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Donkey love Waffles. Take care. 💖

You cross your arms as you narrow your eyes at the front of the lecture hall. It's your last choice in elective but the only one you could get to pad out your schedule. Law. Hardly riveting stuff.

What's more intriguing is the professor. No, no, you haven't acquired a taste for them, if anything Hansen taught you to be wary of them. The very lesson that has you glaring down at Professor Barber, waiting for his first slip.

You're not clever by any means, you're just the only one looking for the signs. The same ones you saw in Tweed at your first meeting, those that you catch in yourself, and the other girls who won't say the truth aloud. 

Brownie, that's the one. You see the way he looks at her and you note how she stays after class, every week. Only three weeks so far but a pattern is a pattern.

You twist your pen, the nib poking out, then do it again, retracting it. The clicking noise forms a tempo at your listless fidgeting. You have a study date tonight with the girls, what’s one more? You’re forming a habit of taking on lost souls, yourself just another wisp floating in the void.

You scribble down the date for your next quiz, your mind hardly processing the words as you guide the pen. You’re trying to plot your approach. You think you have an idea.

As Professor Barber dismisses class, you slide your notebook into your bag and hike it up onto your shoulder. At the edge of the row, as usual, you quickly descend as Brownie stays in her seat, waiting and watching her feet. You catch the small glances aimed in her direction from the man behind the podium.

You take out your phone and quickly text Cookie; ‘you got room for one more?’

You don’t wait for an answer. You don’t care. You’ve made up your mind, it’s a warning, not a question.

“Hey,” you come around the front row. The girl doesn’t seem to hear you. Or she’s ignoring you, “um, Brownie?”

She looks up, startled. She sends a look towards Barber but you ignore him. You cross your arms and sway, your skirt stirring around your legs.

“Remember me?” You ask, “you lent me your pen?”

“Oh, uh, I remember,” she squeaks, her voice thin and raw, as if she never uses it, “hi.”

“Um, so,” you try to sound casual, “I’m not really a law student. English,” you touch your chest and smile, “and I think I could use a study buddy, if you’re interested?”

“Er, oh?” Her brows draw together, “I don’t know…” she scratches her neck, another peek at the professor, “I–”

“Do you have plans? Or maybe you already have someone to study with,” you look away and frown, “sorry, I just figured I’d ask. I need someone to help me make sense of all this. I’m totally lost.”

There’s a subtle rumble, a noise you likely wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know to listen for it. You don’t even glance back at Barber as you hear him packing up. You sit in the chair next to Brownie and smile.

“I just figured you’re like, the smartest person in the class, and I need this grade to bring my average up. Please?”

She chews her lip and plays with the high collar of her turtleneck. She hides beneath her lashes, shrugging before she manages a tiny nod. Her fingers flutter and she shivers nervously.

“I can help,” she presses her fingers to the ribbed fabric of her shirt, “sure, I…”

“Me and my friends are meeting tonight, we’re getting pizza,” you chirp, “wanna tag along?”

“Friends?” She bats her eyes at you frightfully.

“Oh, don’t worry, they’re all super friendly and they’ll love you.”

“I… I don’t know. I’m not very…” she speaks so quietly you have to lean in to hear her.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say much,” you assure her, “Cookie always bakes way too many brownies. You could help us finish them, huh?”

She looks terrified. Her mouth scrunches and shifts back and forth as she measures her options. You know exactly what she’s thinking. That man will be disappointed. Well, let him be. Unless he wants to step forward and admit that he’s fucking a goddamn student.

“Hm, okay, but… just for a little. I can’t stay very long.”

“Just until I figure out what actus reus means, alright?” You stand and send a sharp look towards the professor. He quickly dips his chin down in feigned concentration as he looks over his notes. Not today, fucker.

“Okay,” she gets up and lifts a crochet bag, her hand shaking as she tucks away her laptop in the slouchy purse, “um, I’m sorry, but… I forgot your name.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you wait for her to pass you before walking at her side towards the door. She’s still hesitant and reluctant as she looks over her shoulder, “Flora.”

💮

“This is Brownie,” you introduce the mousy addition to the girls as she tries to fade into the blue wall, “she’s in my law class.”

She doesn’t move. She just looks up with round eyes as the others cheerily call out their welcome, already clustered around the table amid coffee cups, laptops, and a few baked goods. The scent of cinnamon mingles with the stale caffeine.

“Welcome, Brownie,” Muse gives both of you a start as she appears at the girl’s other shoulder, “I’m Muse! Oh, you have wise eyes.” She flutters around the girl, a boa around her shoulders, “you would look wonderful in jade. Yes, it would highlight your undertones.”

Brownie frowns and mutters, but you can’t tell if it's a thank you or just a whimper.

“She says I’m a sapphire type,” you remark as you wave her away from the door, “you can toss your coat with ours,” you motion to the bench bench piled with outerwear, “then I’ll introduce you to the rest… they’re not as bouncy as Muse.”

Brownie gives up her dark gray coat and steps out of her plain boots. She dresses in a very simple way. Turtle necks, corduroys, nothing with much shape or structure. Her style can be best described as part of the wall.

“So,” you walk just ahead of her. She stays behind you as if trying to hide, “Tweed, Foxy, Sunny,” you point out the three girls at the table, “you met Muse,” you look at the artsy wraith fluttering around the counter, “and Cookie, our host.” 

The woman in question puts down a plate of sugar cookies, “hi, nice to meet you! I’ll find an extra chair.”

Brownie doesn’t say a word. You realise it might be a bit overwhelming. She reminds you of Tweed in that way. You point her to a chair and assure her you’ll take whatever Cookie comes up with. She sits, hugging her bag in her lap as she stares at the table.

Foxy gets up as you head for the counter, you pause and look back at Brownie, “you want some tea? Something to drink?”

She chews her lip before she answers, “water, please, if that’s okay.”

You nod and go to the cupboard. Foxy comes up next to you and leans on the counter as you shift to pull out the water jug from the fridge. You come back to her as she keeps her voice low.

“What’s up with that one?”

“Law professor, I think,” you mutter, “could barely get her here.”

“Fuck, another one, huh?”

“Uh, yeah, you know, shitty men everywhere,” you fill the glass, “I brought her here to try to forget all that. Like the rest of us.”

“Sure thing,” she taps the countertop with her nails and pushes off.

You put the jug back and take the water over to Brownie as Cookie emerges with a small white stool. You accept it, the seat lower than the rest so that you feel like a kid at the table. You pull out your laptop and open it up. Your phone slides out with it and you catch it as notifications flash on the screen.

You tap your thumb to expand the preview; Insta, emails, and a text that neither surprises or interests you. Professor Dillhole’s message is swiped away without reading a single word. You got your grade and now you’re done with him. He doesn’t seem to get the hint.

“So, Brownie, you’re in law? Are you going to be a lawyer?” Foxy asks.

Brownie shrugs and nods. You wonder for a moment how she’ll manage a courtroom when she can barely give a vocal answer. Well, she has lots of time to figure that out.

“That’s really cool,” you say, “you know, I don’t have the mind for all that. I can’t really sort out one act from the rest. I’m more into bigger narratives than the tiny details.”

She looks at you, still hugging her bag. She’s ready to leave at any moment.

“Why don’t you stay a while?” You poke her bag, “how about we compare notes? I’m sure I missed all the important stuff. This tort gibberish is doing my head in.”

She puts her chin down and slowly lifts the flap of her bag. She slides out her laptop and gently lowers the bag between her feet. She opens the lid, almost reluctant, and her desktop comes to life. You see the email in the corner right before the notif flicks away. A.Barber… Mmm.

For a moment, you feel a pang of guilt. You hope your impromptu invitation doesn’t cost her anything. That he doesn’t hold it against her. You should’ve thought of that sooner.

“Let me find…” she trails off, her finger running over the trackpad.

You wait patiently. No, you don’t feel bad. She deserves this. Like the rest of you, she needs a place to get away. Just a single space where she doesn’t have to be crushed under his thumb.

💮

You sit outside of Dean Drysdale’s office. His secretary types away at her keyboard and you twirl your phone in your grip. It’s mostly a paperweight these days as you ignore almost every message that comes in. Blocking didn’t work on that jag off.

You jiggle your foot anxiously. This meeting is important. You really need this scholarship and through the grace of your hard work, and the regrettable cooperation of a particular professor, you’ve met all the requirements. The last piece, an interview with the dean.

The clock ticks, drawing your attention in the stagnant office. It’s five after. The dean is running late. That doesn’t really matter, he can do whatever he wants. But you’re early and that can only help in his consideration.

You hear muffled voices near the other side of the door. Shadows darken the frosted glass emblazoned with the dean’s name and credentials. You sit up straight but try not to look too eager. The door opens and your heart falls into your ass. Fuck, not this guy.

“Friday,” Dean Drysdale claps Lloyd’s back as they emerge from the office.

“Can’t wait,” Lloyd returns but his eyes are on you, “ah, sorry,” he says to you, “didn’t mean to keep him so late.”

“No problem, professor,” you stand and grip the strap of your bag, masking your disgust with a smile, “Dean Drysdale,” you greet the other man, “nice to meet you. I’m Flora.”

“The one and only,” he doesn’t offer his hand, “looks like you’re running behind so better get started.” He points you into his office, “later, Hansen.”

He tosses the last remark over his shoulder as he turns to follow you through the door. You enter and hover across from his desk. You hate to be presumptuous. He shuts the door with a click.

“Sit,” he orders tersely as he rounds the desk and falls heavy into the leather chair.

You lower yourself. Your nerves are wily, especially after seeing Professor Hansen. You had no idea he was close with the dean.

“Hansen speaks highly of you,” he begins, “as do the rest of your professors.”

“Oh, I, that’s great.”

“So, I have thirty candidates. Why should I choose you?” He leans back, elbow on the armrest, posture nonchalant as he swivels.

“Um, well, I work hard. I keep my average up where it needs to be. I have gotten involved in quite a few extracurriculars, I helped with the library bakesale and–”

“Boring. Got it. That’s all in your application,” he dismisses, “just like all the other ones. Bunch of filler. But why you?”

You’re speechless. You prepared for this but you feel as if you fell into this from thin air. You don’t know what he wants to hear.

“How many parties have you been to?” He asks suddenly.

“What?” You can’t help your surprise.

“Come on. You’re a young coed. I know how it is. So, let’s narrow it down. Fall term, how many?”

You squint and look at the wall, thinking. You’re not much of a partier. You twiddle your fingers and count in your head.

“Four, maybe,” you push your shoulders up. “I don’t really… I mostly just spend my spare time with my friends–”

“Are they hot?” He chuckles and sits up, your mouth falling open. “Relax, I hate these things. So uptight,” he rolls his shoulders as he wheels closer to the desk and plants his elbows, “at least you're honest. The last six freshmen that sat there insisted on a big O. Think they would see the plaque and realise I’m not stupid.”

“Well, I… yeah,” you chew on the tip of your tongue. You really don’t know how to proceed. “I brought a portfolio of my essays–”

“No time for that,” he waves his hand at you, “think I got the picture.”

“Oh,” you frown.

He stares at you, poking his cheek with his tongue as his brows draw together. He hums and sits back, once more swiveling back and forth. He tilts his head and clucks.

“You’ll hear from my secretary,” he declares at last.

“That’s it?” You gulp.

“Yeah, whatever, I got about five more of these today and I need a fucking coffee,” he lifts his feet onto his desk. “Be a doll and send in Sienna when you leave.”

“Um, okay,” you stand slowly, “thanks for your time.”

He doesn’t respond as he takes out his phone. You hide your unease and leave. As you emerge you see the name card on the secretary’s desk. Sienna.

“Er, he told me to send you in,” you approach.

She looks up at you and snaps her gum, “great.”

She gets up as she rolls her eyes and you swiftly march past the desk. You don’t understand what just happened. Did you fuck it up? What did Hansen say? Oh my fucking good, you swear if he–

Your thoughts race ahead of your feet as they carry you without intention. You find yourself in the stairwell, stunned and confused. You turn down the first flight only to dodge out of the way of a figure coming up. You yipe as you find yourself shoved into the corner, Lloyd’s arms outstretched to pen you in.

His hands brace the painted brick as he smirks down at you, “hey, sweet cheeks, long time, no suck.”

You curl your lip at him and snarl, “get away from me.”

You shove on his chest and he retracts his hands, grabbing your wrists. You struggle with him but he easily pushes your hands up, pinning them to the wall. He leers as looms in front of you, his eyes scanning down your body.

“Damn, I forgot how good you look in those skirts. Panties or nah?”

“Fuck off–”

“Always looked better around your waist–”

“I said get the fuck off of me. I’ll scream–”

“I’d love to hear it,” he snickers, “what happened to us, flower? We were doing great. Living life, fucking hard.”

“You’re an animal–”

“We had a good thing, the whole professor-with-benefits gig worked for us, didn’t it? It sure as hell loosened you up. Look at you, all wound tight–”

You snap your teeth at him and he recoils, barely saving his nose from the chomp. He cackles and keeps you trapped, squeezing your wrists tighter. His laughter rolls out to a growl.

“You know, if you get that scholarship, they need two professor’s to sign off on it… but you know, I don’t just put my name on anything–”

“You’re pathetic.”

“I fucking am when I got blue balls, honey,” he scoffs, “just touch em. A little bit.”

You grit your teeth and throw your knee up. You yank your hands free and shoulder past Lloyd as he bends and grips his crotch. He chokes on his breath as he leans against the wall. You bluster away as quickly as you can.

“Not like that,” he gurgles as you charge down the stairs, dizzy as you turn down the next flight. 

So much for that scholarship.

💮

You stare at the C circled in red on your last quiz. Law isn’t your forte, that’s clear. Your GPA and hopes for that scholarship are dwindling in that simple little letter. You look up at the front of the lecture hall as Professor Barber reclaims the podium, preparing to take up the answers as he does every other week.

You sit closer than before. You’re always sure to take the seat next to Brownie and she has yet to tell you to stop. Something about her though suggests that she won’t ever do that. No has been erased from her vocabulary.

You don’t miss the Professor’s eyes as they flit up to your study buddy but quickly meet your own. He darts them away, caught. You wonder, however, if your middling grade has something to do with that. Oh well, you won’t regret doing the right thing.

As you open your laptop, an email pops up in the corner. ‘On Behalf of Dean R. Drysdale’. You click on it before you can stop yourself. You’re holding your breath. You read it slowly.

‘Schedule a follow up for the dean’s decision’.

What? That’s not an answer. Fuck. Why can’t they just put it right there? Yes or no. You have to stop yourself from slamming your laptop shut. You grab your quiz and rest it over your keyboard. You look over at Brownie, she stares at the paper in her hand. She got an A, as always.

“Good job,” you whisper.

“Mmm, yeah,” she returns as she drops the quiz onto her folding desk. “He’s a good teacher…”

“Sure,” you accept dryly.

She glances at you but says nothing. You hate to be sharp with her but it’s pretty obvious what’s going on. You’re just smart enough to know to be cautious. You can only be there for her when she needs you. It would be too risky to do anything else. And not fair to Brownie, that man could destroy her career. You’ve been her, you just hope she finds her way out.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Barber calls out, quieting the class, “it seems we need a lot of review on case law.”

💮

The hour is unexpected but you don’t think much of it. A dean is busier than most and you can’t help but imagine that Drysdale is even less elated to be meeting at such an off-time. Seven in the evening on a Friday is prime time, even for those outside the coed population.

You show up to an empty office. Sienna is gone, the place desolate. The vibe is off. Something about it reminds you of another meeting. No, this isn’t Hansen. Still, you’re on edge, vigilant as you approach the dean’s door, an amber glow through the frosted glass.

You knock and cross one arm over your chest, clutching your upper arm. You sway as you wait. Deja vu paralyses you on the spot. It can’t be. It can’t happen twice. This is about the scholarship.

The door opens and Drysdale steps back as he gives a flippant greeting, “come in.”

He has a glass in hand, a dark brown liquid in marbled crystal. He sips as the door falls open. You step inside and look around the office, the framed degree behind his chair and the several photographs placed around them; a previous dean with his imperious features, and a large house with a rustic landscape crowded around it. You hover at the threshold.

“Close the door,” he sits heavily, “these old buildings are drafty as–” he stops himself and smirks. 

He drains the last of his drink, liquor by your measure, and puts it on the marble coaster. You shut the door and sit, just like last time. You can’t help but be slightly irked to think he brought you all the way here to issue you a rejection.

“So, top three,” he points a finger gun at you as he slumps in the same lackadaisical way, “Flora… you’re a star. Shining reviews. Can’t say my professors ever said anything nice about me but you… you even got Hansen singing your praises.”

“Oh,” you utter.

“I’ve known him a while. We were in the same frat, you know? He was a senior when I was a freshman, hazed me real good but look how things turned out,” he leans an elbow on the armrest and cradles his chin. He watches you. “All these years and I never heard him say anything nice about a fucking student.”

You’re put off by the obscenity. Further, upended by his history with Lloyd. What does that have to do with anything?

“You know, he’s all about self-discipline but you get a few scotches down his gullet and he’s like an open book. Also…” he raises a finger, “leaves his phone unlocked.”

You try not to let that suspicion turn to panic. He can’t know. Even if he did, it’s not your fault. He should be talking with Hansen, not you. He’s the one abusing his position.

“You let him fuck you in his car,” he sits up and laughs, his hand on his stomach, “looking at you, I never would’ve guessed.”

“What? How–”

“I mean, he was hitting it from quite the angle so I don’t blame you for not noticing the phone in his front pocket…”

“No.”

“Yes,” he cackles. “Listen, sweetie, it’s not the first time it’s happened. Some girls just don’t have anything else to offer, so who am I to be mad if they use what they got.”

“I’m not– I’m not like that. He made me–”

“Oh, I’m sure the promise of an A plus helped,” he scoffs as he lets his hand drift down his stomach, “so what can a scholarship get me?”

He gropes himself through his russet coloured pants. Your throat constricts as you clutch your purse tight in your lap. You’re rigid, alight in horror and shame. Of course Lloyd didn’t walk away without something.

“I’ve waited twenty years for this,” he plants his feet.

“No, I’m not– I’m not doing this again.”

You stand and Drysdale rips his hand away from his crotch, snapping his fingers, “with that video, I could take you to the review board and have you kicked out. Not only that, all your credits would be invalidated.”

You swallow and wince. No, this can’t be happening. Again. You’re stronger than this. You’re worth more than these men’s dicks.

“So, sweetie pie,” he reaches forward and takes his phone off his desk, “we’re gonna make a nice little video for Hansen and show him how it’s really done.”

You shudder and hug yourself, “I…” your throat is dry, your heart hollow. What other choice do you have? You’ll lose everything. “I’ll do it, but no video. Please.”

“My rules. I am the dean and you are… the slutty coed.” He tuts, “mmm, classic Pornhub fodder.” He taps the screen of his phone, “let’s go. Get your clothes off.”

He aims the lens at you. You look at the floor. You can’t move.

“Please, turn it off.”

“Get your fucking clothes off,” he repeats, “I want to remind that fuckface what he’s missing out on.”

You dig your nails into the back of your arms then let go. You keep your head down as you lift the strap of your purse over your head and throw it in the chair behind you. You unzip your coat and shrug it off. The room rings in your ear and blurs in your vision. Your breaths are shallow and painful. Your skin is buzzing.

Your coat falls and you pull down the straps of the denim dress you wear over a flowered blouse. You shimmy it past your waist and peek up for just a minute. Drysdale bites his thumb as he records you.

You quickly tear away your gaze and continue. You unbutton the blouse and turn as you fight to free your wrists from the cuffs. Goosebumps speckle over your skin. You close your eyes and ball your hands before pushing your fingers wide. You touch the top of your stockings.

“You can leave those on, cheeks.”

You gulp and retract your hands. You pause and turn back to face the desk.

“Tits out, ass out, go on.”

No wonder he’s tight with Lloyd. Birds of a feather. You reach back to undo your bra and sling it onto the chair. You hook your thumbs in your panties and step out of them.

“I always liked an extra helping,” Drysdale taunts, “her cups overfloweth… is that Shakespeare?”

You don’t answer. You fight the urge to hide behind your arms. You raise your head. You have a morsel of dignity left in you.

“Come here,” he demands, “I wanna fuck those tits.”

You cringe but obey. If Lloyd taught you anything it was to just get it over with. You round the desk as he opens his fly. He pulls himself out above the zipper, playing with himself, rolling his thumb over his tip as he growls.

“Knees, baby, I’m sure you know the drill,” he snickers. You get down as he wiggles his dick in your direction, “push those things together.” You grab your chest and smush it together. He taps your tits with his tip and laughs, enjoying his mocking.

He guides himself down under your tits and slides between. He cups a hand around yours as he refocuses the phone on you. He rocks the chair back, moving his pelvis as he slowly starts to thrust. He groans at the friction. You clench your jaw tight, dreaming of biting off the end of his overinflated worm.

His breath hitches as he fucks faster, the bottom of his wolly sweater rolling up his muscles stomach. You could just punch him right there. You could grab him by his balls and twist. No, that would only assure you of your scholarly doom.

“Look at me,” he demands.

You snap your eyes open as he shoves the phone in your face. You shy away but he keeps fucking, turning the lens down towards your tits. He gives a breathy laugh and it trickles into a moan. Weak and pathetic.

“Shit, yeah, that’s good,” he groans, “give it a kiss, baby.”

You grit back your disgust. You bend your neck and kiss his tip as it pokes through.

“With tongue.”

You force your tongue out as his tip pops up again and you swirl around it, planting a sloppy kiss on the salty flesh. He twitches and hisses. He pulls his hand away from yours and grips the chair.

“That’s good, get up,” he snarls, “turn around.”

You suck in a chestful of air and do as he says. You get to your feet and turn away. He grabs your hips and rolls closer. 

“Bend over.”

You bend and rest your elbows on the edge of the desk. He angles you down into his lap, your body stretched between the two. He rubs his dick against your ass, once more tapping. He kneads the flesh. You shake your head as he tilts you further down.

He prods at your cunt and you can’t help but clench. He pushes against your entrance, tight and burning as he grunts, bulling his way past the resistance with a slap against your thigh. He latches onto your hip and pulls you down another inch.

“It’s all you. You just gotta fuck that scholarship outta me.”

You bite your lip and force yourself to take him. You hip down until you reach your limit but before you can pull back up, he grabs on and holds you in place.

“More.”

You sink your teeth in deeper, urging yourself lower until it’s unbearable. You take him in fully and let out a shaky breath through your nose. You raise your ass as he lets you go. He lets out a raspy noise and you repeat the motion. You keep your motion mechanical and slow, trying to adjust.

“Faster. I wanna see you jiggle.”

You roll your eyes and claw at your arm, arms crossed over the desk as you rock your weight over him. The flesh claps loudly as his chair squeaks with each descent. He groans and gulps, hand wandering over your flesh, along your thighs, across your ass, up your back.

“Fuck, look at her go,” he snarks, “you work that dick. Just like that.”

You close your eyes and let the scowl mar your features. You speed up. He’s almost there. You can feel the tension, you can hear it in his voice.

“Ah,” he pinches you meanly, “stop!”

You try to keep going but he pushes you off of him. He growls and the chair jars as he sits up. You puff and peek around your shoulder at him.

“I’m cumming in your fucking mouth,” he cradles his balls, half-keeled over. “Open the fuck up before I blow–”

You get back to your knees and glare at him. You won’t falter. You have nothing over these men but that. You lean your head back and open your mouth. He lets himself go and holds the camera over you.

“Well, not gonna finish itself.”

You grab him, roughly, and he grunts. A warning. You ease up and stroke him, placing your mouth by his tip. 

“Look into the camera, cheeks.”

You glare at the camera, you hope it can catch the sheer loathing radiating from you. You stroke him, squeezing harder and harder until he spasms and mewls. He spurts all over, missing your mouth and streaking up the bridge of your noises and across your brow, a few strings over your cheek. 

He gasps and clings to the chair as if he might slip out of it, the camera drooping with his arm. You let him go and wipe your slimy hand. You stand and snatch a tissue from the box on his desk and wipe the mess from your face. His heavy breaths fill the silence.

“Can I go?” You ask flatly.

“I got nothing else for you,” he spits out.

You refuse to look at him as you dress. He chuckles. You fight not to turn around and throw every single thing on his desk at him. You hate him. You hate Lloyd. But more, you hate yourself.

“Congratulations,” he says as you pick up your purse, “did I mention, paperwork went through yesterday.”

You whip around and stare at him. You quake with anger, eyes hot with unspent tears.

“Hey, even I got deadlines. Had to make the call last week.”

You take a step back. What the fuck? You stumble away, ready to scream, ready to strangle this man. For now, you’ll settle for never having to see him again.

#ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #series #campus au #multifandom #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #knives out

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Roo’s Campus AU Masterlist

First Semester (Timeline)

Book Smart (Steve Rogers, MCU)

Below Average (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)

Overdue (Curtis Everett, Snowpiercer)

Straightlaced (Andy Barber, Defending Jacob)

Apple of His Eye (Jake Jensen, The Losers)

Heated (Johnny Storm, Fantastic Four)

Quick Study (Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, MCU)

Second Semester

Fresh Meat (Thor, MCU)

Messy (Bucky Barnes, MCU)

Unspoken Crimes (Frank Castle and Billy Russo, The Punisher, MCU)

Prerequisite (Ransom Drysdale, Knives Out)

#campus au #au #college au #mcu #marvel #chris evans #jake jensen #curtis everett #steve rogers #andy barber #johnny storm #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #series #lloyd hansen #the gray man #captain america #defending jacob #fantastic four #the losers #snowpiercer

[e3ammm]

Batman: The Enemy Within - Bruce Wayne x John Doe - Univ. AU: What if they're both Gotham Univ. students?

This trench coat was John's favorite, although he had never dreamed before he could endure the uncomfortable touch wrapping around his neck. It really opened his narrow outlook on the variety of life. This was just perfect; well fit on his shoulder, its ivory wool collar felt soft, and its length, too, was his size. In all aspects, this coat was positive proof that Bruce was caring about him right now. Whenever he buried his nose in the coat and breathed in, he could always discover a trace of its owner's scent. It evoked a piece of imagination that he was choosing today's lunch in the cafeteria, together, locked in Bruce's firm arms even when he was listening to a tedious major class alone.

John raise his head to check the professor wasn't paying attention to his seat. He cautiously took out his cell phone and texted Bruce. It was read almost immedately before John's patience ran out. Few more seconds for typing the answer-- and-- finally--

He received Bruce's promise that he would be out in front of the building where John is in right now and waiting for him, considering seriously skipping next classes to go out on a surprise date. No, the latter one was a pure result of John's imagination, and he himself was aware of it, but at least he could try. It was so lovely outside. Spending whole day inside dreary forest of college buildings in this weather had to be regarded as a grave crime. Maybe he could beg him for skipping class... going to a park nearby... feeding geese... taking some pictures together...... if everything went well, he could get a chance to invite Bruce to his studio for dinner at the end of today's date as if there were no imminent assignment.

John's eyes started to be twinkling with anticipation. About half an hour was left until the professor finished this class, but it was all right. After this lecture, he and his Bruce would have great fun together all day long.

#batjokes #enemy within #bruce x john #bruce wayne #john doe #campus au #my fic

[forjongseong]

the reward // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: student!jay x tutor!fem!reader

genre: campus!au, smut (minors dni) // warning: older reader, they call reader "Noona", profanity, mentions of studying (lol), Heeseung makes an appearance, the rest of hyung-line are mentioned, making out, a lot of making out, just making out, fingering, protected sex (because Jay is responsible) // wc: ~9.5k

summary: you teach for a living, and you had been picking up tutoring since the extra money wasn't that bad. most of your meetings consist of essay-writing, mock tests, and speaking exercises; so when Jay became your student, you weren't expecting the lessons to include rewards.

author’s note: what?? two fics in the span of three days? with this I announce my retirement...

just kidding I STILL HAVE the secretary!Jay series to finish so I won't be retiring soon. this one is based on the rimless glasses series which is like, a random note I made for my wips, and believe it or not, while I made Bite Me sit and marinate on the shelf for so long, I finished this fic below within seven hours. yes, sometimes I am very motivated.

ANYWAY since I kept getting ideas for this one, I decided to sit down and write everything in one go, because if I pause to pick it up later I end up feeling not that confident with my work.

with that being said, I totally loved this one, so I hope you guys will enjoy it AS MUCH AS I DID writing it.

special mention to @excusememissiloveyou who was there the whole time virtually giving me mental support and good reactions

taglist: @thots4hee @end-hyphen @nyanggk @yoursjaeyun @maggstar @bucketofhiros @dimplejaehyuncutie @shinkenprincess-oh @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy @strawberrification12 @xiaoderrrr

You took the last sip of your latte as you tried to hold in your laughter. You then carefully swallowed your drink before chuckling and putting your cup back on the table, and then swatting the guy in front of you for cracking a joke and deliberately trying to make you laugh and choke at the same time.

“No, but seriously, thank you,” Heeseung said, tapping his fingers on the table. “I reached my target score.”

“What was it again?” You asked, at the same time unlocking your phone to check the time.

“7.5,” he answered.

You frowned. “That’s literally the same score you had before you took lessons with me, is it not?”

Heeseung nodded. “But without your help, I probably would have scored lower. Thanks for all the practice. And your time.”

You smiled and waved your hand, pretending to be humble. “Well, you’re welcome. I’m just doing what I get paid for.”

This time Heeseung was the one who chuckled, and before he could say another word you had to excuse yourself because it was time for your afternoon class.

“I’ll make the transfer tonight,” Heeseung said as he stood up, collecting the used napkins on the table. “Oh, by the way, Noona, I gave your number to my friend. He said he needs a tutor too. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Sure, you can broadcast my number to everyone who needs a tutor, to be honest. I’d love the extra money.”

Heeseung snickered and waited for you to start walking. He sped up and held the door open for you as you both exited the café.

“What’s his name? Or her, sorry, I just assumed.” You fixed your bag’s strap on your shoulder before taking out your phone again.

“Jay. He’s a med student too. We’re in the same class.” Heeseung started typing on his phone. “I’ve just let him know that you know he’s going to text you.”

“Awesome,” you said with a smile. “I’ll see you around, Heeseung. Good luck with the semester abroad.”

---

The waitress eyed the empty plates you had set aside before you started scrolling on your phone, and when you made eye contact with her you nodded, and she immediately took the plates away. You then placed an order for a cold drink since you were sure your new student was going to be running late.

“Punctuality,” you sighed to yourself, “should literally be counted in every single score…”

You heard the bell chiming as someone entered the restaurant, and your eyes immediately fell on him. The guy had his hair slicked back with a couple of strands hanging on his forehead, he was wearing a white button-down with a suede jacket on top, and the straight-cut pants he was wearing made you want to ask him where it was from.

“Y/N Noona,” he greeted you with confidence before you could even stand up, “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Hi, Jay,” you watched as he took his backpack off and set it on the chair beside him. He then sat down and looked at you with a huge smile.

The fuck? What is he so attractive for? You thought, smiling back.

“I didn’t know this place existed on campus,” he began, initiating small talk. His eyes were scanning the place, and as he looked around in wonder you thought for a second that he looked like a majestic black cat. And you love cats.

“Yeah,” you said before the silence became too loud. “It’s my favorite place to grab lunch or to hold private sessions like this. So, what do you need an IELTS score for?”

“Same as Heeseung,” Jay answered you only after he looked around for a waiter. He quickly placed his order and refocused his attention back on you. “Did you order yet?” He asked, sounding concerned as he looked around and saw nothing in front of you.

Your drink order arrived, and you thanked the waitress in a whisper and a smile, and you made an effort to explain yourself before Jay started to speculate.

“I already ate, and this is my dessert,” you said, turning the cup around and making sure it was the right order. “You can go ahead and eat while I answer any questions you might have about our lessons.”

“Right,” Jay shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “So, I want to get a higher score than Heeseung, but I’ve never taken the test before, so how many meetings do you think we should have so I can achieve that?”

Confident, curious, and ambitious, you thought. You could definitely work with him.

“Alright,” you began, clearing the space in front of you and taking out your notebook and a pen.

You spent the next two hours talking to Jay, mostly stuff regarding lesson plans, but after that, you asked him about his studies, and he also asked you about your experiences and your current work. He mentioned the names of the students you had previously tutored, Jake and Sunghoon, and only then did you learn that the four of them must have their own clique.

“Where do you usually have your lessons with them?” Jay asked, wiping his mouth with a clean napkin after he finally finished his meal.

“Since they’re only available in between my classes, I usually ask them to go to cafes around the campus,” you replied. “I literally just go where I am asked, though. You guys are the students, so.”

“Can I pick the place for our next meeting?” Jay asked, grabbing his phone. “I’ll match your schedule first.”

You opened your calendar on your bullet journal and started jotting down Jay’s availability while he typed in your schedule on his phone.

“Right, so on Tuesday, since you only have a morning class, let’s have lunch at this place, hold on,” Jay said, eyes glued to his phone as he pulled up a website of the place he was referring to. “Here.”

You craned your neck to look at Jay’s phone, and when you read the address, you tilted your head. “I don’t know, it doesn’t seem like it’s walking distance from campus.”

“Oh, I’ll pick you up.” Jay blinked at you innocently. “I’ll drive you back to campus too. Or your home?”

“Campus is fine, I carpool with my brother,” you quickly replied. “Thank you.”

Jay shrugged and checked the time on his watch. “We’re done here, right?”

You nodded. “Unless you have more questions?”

He smiled and shook his head, and you hated the way you thought he was just so damn handsome. He then stood up and made his way to the booth, and you saw him take out his wallet while gesturing to your table. When he walked back to his seat, you leaned in and whispered.

“Did you just pay for my meal?” You asked, trying to be discreet.

“Why are you whispering? Of course, I did,” Jay replied, also whispering to match your energy.

You chuckled and mouthed a ‘thank you’ before you stood up, and you were slightly surprised at how fast he walked ahead of you just to hold the door open.

“I’ll see you Tuesday?” Jay asked, stretching out his hand.

You realized he was going for a handshake, so you took his hand. His fingers grabbed your hand firmly and you had to hold in a wince.

“Tuesday,” you replied, keeping your cool. “Bye, Jay.”

---

After a couple of meetings with Jay, you realized that the guy had grown on you and that he might be your favorite student ever if you were even allowed to have one. Skill-wise, he needed a lot of help, but he was a quick learner, and he took all your advice seriously, putting it into action almost immediately and showing up with instant results.

“Can I ask you what your thought process is like when you write an argumentative essay like this?” You said previously on your second meeting with him, at a café that he picked out.

“I look at the topic and begin writing, and I just… write as I go,” he answered truthfully.

You sighed and he took a quick glance at your face. “See, that’s where you’re wrong.”

You began explaining how outlining an essay was essential to make sure you can get your points across, and as you were speaking you kept looking at your notes, his hands, the window, and everything else except his face. But you can feel his eyes glued to yours. He attended every single meeting with the type of energy that you had never found before in any of your other students, and somehow, he just exudes positivity and passion.

During the meeting after that, he handed you over his homework, along with an extra essay that was written according to your input. He could not hide his stupid grin every time you complimented a sentence structure, and for the first time, you finally made him speechless.

“Thank you,” you said after ending your feedback.

Jay tilted his head and frowned. “What for?”

“For taking my input seriously,” you continued.

Jay became even more confused. “Isn’t that what students do?”

You scoffed and shook your head. “A lot of my students don’t.”

“Well, they’re just dumb, then.”

Your mouth hung open in shock at Jay’s sudden insult, and he found your face hilarious that he just had to cackle, his laugh echoing throughout the place. You covered your mouth and giggled silently, helplessly smacking his arm so he would quiet down.

On your fourth meeting, you requested to have the lesson at the campus café since you had to go home as soon as your session with him ended. This time, however, he was running late, and you had to spend a couple of minutes alone chugging down your latte to stay awake.

“Noona, I’m so sorry,” Jay said as soon as pulled the chair beside you. He sat down and started complaining. “My professor just announced this urgent assignment that we had to do, and…”

The annoyance that came with almost being stood up evaporated completely when you heard Jay yapping about what happened in his class. Maybe you were just too tired to be angry, or maybe you were just happy to see him.

“Shall we just practice Speaking then for now?” You asked after he finished his explanation.

Jay nodded quickly. “Anything you want. Do you want me to order another drink for you?”

“It’s fine, calm down,” you said, chuckling lightly. “Alright, let me look for a topic.”

You quickly browsed your phone and began asking him questions. You made a gesture and pointed to his phone, signaling him to record himself speaking, so he did so without breaking eye contact with you. For the next part, you picked a topic that required him to talk about a close friend, and as he began to elaborate on his answer, it was your turn to look at him intently.

“What I like about her is,” Jay spoke in the middle of his answer. He then paused as if he was searching for the right word to use, but you were feeling sleepy and goofy, so you interrupted him.

“Her smile?” You asked in a teasing tone before you started laughing.

Jay became flustered and quickly waved both his hands to deny your guess. “No, not that!”

He then joined you laughing, and you had to apologize for stretching the time limit he had. You then asked him to continue and wrap up, and after that you immediately gave feedback. However, when you were speaking you got tongue-tied a lot, and you kept saying the wrong words or taking too long to find one.

“Noona, if you’re really tired, we can end the class early, I don’t mind,” Jay said calmly, looking at you with concern but also smiling like he somehow found you adorable.

“No!” You said with an unreasonable tone of refusal. Jay flinched in his seat from how loud you spoke. “No, you already came late, so I’m not cutting this meeting even shorter.”

“Alright,” Jay chuckled to himself. He looked to the ground and saw that you had your shoes off.

Eventually, you gave him constructive feedback and even managed to pull up the previous essay he had written and gave him pointers on the spot. When it was time to wrap up, Jay cleared his throat before proposing an idea.

“Noona,” he began, “can we have the next meeting at my place?”

“Sure,” you replied without hesitation. “What’s the name of the café this time?”

Jay smiled and shook his head. “I meant my place, as in, my house.”

“Oh?” You paused and let your hand hover over your book, trying to formulate a response. “Uhm, I have never—”

“If you feel uncomfortable, it’s fine. We can go to another place. You can choose!” Jay quickly revised his statement, worried that he made the wrong decision of even voicing his idea.

“Well, where do you live?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“Not walking distance from campus,” Jay said with a smile. “But again, I’ll drive you there and back. I live alone, it’s my parents' house, but they’re currently living in another city to take care of their business, so they left the house to me. And we won’t be alone, I’ve got some workers who are doing renovations, so…”

You realized how flustered he became, and by now you already know that Jay tends to say a lot of words when he was nervous, so to save him from further embarrassment, you nodded. His eyes lit up when he finally got an answer from you.

“I’ll text you when you can pick me up,” you said. “Don’t be late.”

Jay licked his lips before grinning widely. “I won’t.”

---

You were lounging on a huge sofa, a couple of pillows under your head and between your legs, and you winced as you heard the sound of ongoing construction outside the house. You glanced over to Jay, who had his eyebrows knitted and his rimless bluelight filter glasses perched on his nose, studiously reading the questions on his laptop screen. The noise-canceling headphones you brought proved to be useful, as he seemed to stay focused really well, and you wondered why he did not own a pair.

After introducing the idea of taking mock tests online and reviewing them right away, you ended up staying for longer hours whenever your meetings were held at Jay’s place, and when you first came there, one of the workers mistook you for Jay’s girlfriend. You then began to wonder if he had brought home other girls as well.

“Noona,” Jay called for you, breaking your chain of thoughts. “There’s no way I can answer this one correctly.”

Jay pulled his headphones down and gestured for you to sit next to him, so you did, and he pushed his laptop to your side so you can see its screen better. He was complaining about the true-false-not given questions, and he was getting frustrated because he could not tell the difference between false and not-given.

As you began to explain, Jay pulled the laptop closer to his side again, and you wanted him to read but also listen at the same time, so instead of pulling it closer to you, you moved closer to him. You ended up sitting closer to the coffee table and closer to the screen, with Jay sitting right behind you.

“So, if you see this passage here, the third paragraph,” you said, pointing at the screen. You did not hear a reply. “Jay?”

“Sorry,” Jay quickly replied, shaking his head. “Sorry, I zoned out. You smell so good.”

You were not going to let Jay see you blush, so you merely chuckled and cleared your throat. “Okay, moving on.”

You continued explaining, and Jay kept responding to you with one-word answers or mere hums, and you thought as long as he was paying attention, you did not need to check on him.

Little did you know that as you were speaking, his eyes were scanning your whole body. He leaned in ever so slightly to take in your scent better, and he noticed how sheer the button-down you were wearing was. He could barely see the outline of your light blue bra strap, and as you adjusted your position, he realized he was leaning in too close, so he quickly backed away before he got caught.

“Do you get it now?” You asked, looking back at him.

Jay was leaning against the sofa, a fair distance from you, but his eyes were focused on your lips, and that was a hard thing not to notice. To be frank, you were fighting yourself and trying to regulate your heartbeat whenever it beat faster when he came a little too close to you, and now you were beginning to think that the feeling might be mutual.

“Jay?” You asked. You then waved your hand in front of his face. “You seem out of it—”

You could not finish your sentence as you were in shock from the way his hand grabbed your wrist. You froze instantly, and your heart was beating even faster than when he was up close.

“Sorry,” Jay said, clearing his throat. He lowered your hand and let go of your wrist. “Sorry about that.”

“We can end the session now if you don’t feel well—”

“Noona,” he interrupted, “don’t end it now.”

“Okay,” you replied as you shifted in your seat and turned to face him. “How can I help you understand this better?”

Jay licked his lips and looked at the screen before looking at you, and within a short moment, he was flipping coins in his head, trying to imagine the different possible outcomes that would happen if he suggested what he was thinking the whole time.

“If I get the answer right,” he began, “would you show me your boobs?”

The question came out of nowhere and your immediate response was to laugh out loud, but once you looked at his face you realized he was dead serious, and since he asked politely you decided to entertain the idea.

“Alright, why not? Nothing to lose here,” you replied, confident that he would get the answer wrong. It was one of the types of questions that you hated the most because of how tricky it was, so you were convinced that even he would not get it right.

You were glad that you were wrong, for the first time in your life.

“I got it right, didn’t I?” Jay asked minutes later as you leaned closer to look at the screen, scanning the answer key and looking at Jay’s answer.

“Goddamnit,” you muttered, mindlessly clicking the mouse all over the screen.

You heard Jay whisper a ‘yes’ triumphantly and you sighed to yourself before turning around to face him. You began pulling your button-down up from the tuck in your pants, and Jay’s eyes immediately widened.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He shouted, reaching his hands out to stop you. “What are you doing?”

“Flashing you?” You asked back, fingers frozen at the edges of your shirt.

Jay chuckled and fell back leaning his head on the sofa, taking his glasses off and covering his eyes with his forearm. “Noona, I was just joking.”

You felt disappointed, for some reason, and a little bit humiliated. Was he really just using you to feel motivated? And did that actually work? Were you secretly hoping for him to get the answer right?

“Really?” You asked again for confirmation. Jay nodded.

You paused for a second and then smiled. Jay thought you were going to say, ‘Good one’, but then you began scooting closer to him, and he immediately tensed up.

“So, when I sat down in front of you, and you got distracted, that was part of the act?” You asked, almost batting your eyelashes at him.

You could basically hear him gulp. “Yes,” he said, eyes on yours.

“You said I smelled good, was that just a joke too?”

“No,” Jay answered, chuckling this time. “You really do smell good.”

You reached a spot close enough to hear his thoughts, your breasts just inches apart from his chest.

“I really hope you’re not lying,” you whispered, your lips almost grazing his.

Jay let out a soft grunt before he pulled you by your wrist, and you yelped as he somehow managed to maneuver you to sit on his lap. You then kissed him first, pushing him back and letting his head rest on the seat cushion. Both his hands began riding up your thigh as you mercilessly dominated the kiss, quickly tangling your fingers in his gorgeous hair.

His hands moved to your ass to give it a squeeze and you moaned into his mouth, your body shaking and quickly succumbing to his touch. You began grinding on him, barely feeling his bulge, but as he began to dominate the kiss you heard feet shuffling right out the terrace.

“Jay?”

You jumped out of his lap at the sound and immediately made your way to the open kitchen, pretending to busy yourself. Jay cleared his throat and wiped away his saliva, or maybe yours, from his mouth. He stood up and walked over to one of the construction workers who called him, and you tried to observe them quietly as he spoke to him. He held himself with so much composure, almost like he did not even get caught making out with his tutor.

The worker then nodded, and Jay waved slightly at him, and you assumed that the man just gave Jay an update before excusing themselves for the day. You took a deep breath and held the empty glass you took in one hand while massaging your temple. You saw Jay making his way towards you with an apologetic smile on his face.

“Sorry again,” Jay said, standing on the opposite side of the counter. “I actually… don’t have anything else to say.”

You chuckled and looked down to avoid eye contact because you were sure that one more look from him would make you combust.

“Are you okay?” Jay asked, voice full of concern.

“I am, why?” You replied, confused.

Jay shook his head, unsure. “I just did not want to come off as a… I just hope you know that I’m not taking advantage of you, and I really don’t want you to feel—”

You began laughing softly and Jay had to stop speaking.

“Noona?”

“It’s fine,” you said as you began walking to him. You fixed a strand of his hair that was out of place from how much you were ruffling his hair earlier. “I’m okay.”

Jay kept his eyes on you, and you detected a different emotion. Before, you saw that it was lust, but now his eyes seemed hopeful.

“If you’re really okay with it,” Jay spoke, placing a hand behind his neck, “do you think it would be cool if we make it, like, a regular thing?”

“Elaborate, please.”

Jay chuckled softly. “I meant like, I think I could get motivated a lot if there was a reward waiting if I get a question right. Or if I reach a certain score in a mock test, don’t you think?”

You liked the idea very much that there was literally no reason to refuse. “I actually agree.”

“You do?” Jay started smiling widely. “Okay, cool, so the next meeting—”

“You’ll have to pick me up again after my class,” you interrupted, “and we’ll probably need some snacks here.”

Jay nodded firmly as if he had just negotiated a great deal. “Wait, Noona, you don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

You shook your head. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Of course not,” Jay scoffed. “I just didn’t want to get in between of anything.”

You pouted and nodded, understanding. “Well, you’d probably be getting in between something.”

Jay tilted his head in confusion, and you brought your hand to your thigh, patting it. Jay closed his eyes and sighed. You giggled at his reaction.

“This session is over. You need to drive me back,” you demanded, placing the glass you were holding the whole time back on the counter.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Jay muttered before winking at you and turning around to go grab his car keys. You rolled your eyes before following him.

---

To say that you could not wait for your next session with Jay would be an understatement. You were literally counting the days, down to the minute, and you were checking your phone a ridiculous number of times just so you could respond to his chats in an instant. When he picked you up and you saw him getting out of the car to open the door for you, your heart was beating like a drum.

It was understandable, and pretty logical, actually. You had not been intimate with anyone in a long time, and Jay was, quite frankly, fucking hot. It did not help that he was intelligent as well, which was definitely your type. Your heart was racing, and your mind was imagining a thousand different scenarios that you did not even realize that you had arrived at Jay’s place.

You quickly noticed the absence of noise when you stepped out of the car. Jay walked up to the door and looked back at you, noticing how you were also silent.

“It’s a day off for the workers, today,” Jay explained, “it’s just you and me.”

“Thank God,” you muttered.

Jay chuckled. “What?”

“Did I just say that out loud?” You asked back in shock.

Jay laughed, genuinely finding you amusing. “You said it under your breath, but I heard it.”

“How embarrassing,” you said to yourself as you entered the house after him.

“On the contrary,” Jay responded, “I find it adorable.”

For this session, you decided to stay as farther away from Jay as possible, to let him focus and also to clear your mind. He was doing a mock test on his laptop after he received major feedback on his homework essay, and you took the time to wander around his kitchen and check his supplies.

“I can hear you opening the cabinets,” Jay spoke in a louder tone, all the way from the living room.

“Don’t mind me,” you shouted back. “Just focus if you want to get a good score.”

“What was the reward again?” Jay asked, smiling to himself as he scanned the question on his screen.

“A make out session if you reach 7,” you reminded him despite knowing full well that he just wanted you to recite it back to him. “And if you reach 8, I’ll give you a blowjob.”

“Fuck,” Jay muttered to himself.

You were unsure if it was because the thought made him unable to focus, or if he was actually struggling to answer the questions. After a few more minutes, he finally finished his Reading mock test, and you walked over to check his score.

“Noona, I present to you,” Jay began speaking, proudly, “a 7.5.”

Your eyebrows knitted as you observed the screen and scanned the page, checking Jay’s answers and matching them with the answer key. Meanwhile, Jay was leaning back and stretching his arms up, cracking his neck and basically doing preparations as if he was about to run a marathon.

“Good job,” you said, pushing the laptop towards the center of the table. You then turned around only to find him sitting comfortably on the sofa, arms to his side and his lap looking so inviting.

“Can I get my reward now?” He asked, eyes glowing and expecting.

“I’ll count it as a 7, since we never agreed on anything if you get a .5 score,” you said, taking the scrunchie from your wrist and tying your hair up in a messy bun.

“I’ll take anything,” Jay whispered, his arms welcoming you as you carefully straddled him.

You paused to place your hands on the sides of his face, and you bit your lower lip slightly before you leaned into him. His lips greeted yours warmly, and you could not help but sigh into his mouth once you felt his heat envelop you. Jay roamed his hands around your waist, up to your back, and lingering on your shoulders for a moment, pushing you even closer to him.

“Fuck,” he muttered into your lips. “You taste so good, Noona.”

You smiled and kissed him even harder, hoping it would translate into gratitude. You felt his fingers going under your shirt, grazing your skin and you shivered at his touch. He continued kissing you, licking your lips, tugging on your tongue, teeth slightly clashing with yours when the two of you got way too passionate. His fingers tugged your bra and he pulled away only to ask you a question.

“Can I?” He spoke, voice raspy from the lack of air. You wanted it just as much as him, so you nodded quietly.

He unhooked your bra with one hand and immediately moved his hand to the front, squeezing your tits as he continued to devour your lips. You began moaning helplessly, and you could feel him growing hard against your core.

“Jay,” you whined, “your reward is just a make out session.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know, but doesn’t this feel so good?”

You felt him pinch your hard nipple slightly and you flinched before giggling, hiding your blushing face in the crook of his neck. You realized that he had a birthmark there, so you began kissing it, then licking it, then sucking on it, and only then did Jay let out a moan that sounded new to you.

“Noona,” he said, breathless. “We need to establish clearer rules and rewards.”

You kissed him all the way up to his jawline before meeting his lips again. “What do you mean?” You spoke against his lips.

“How about,” Jay said, pausing to groan since he felt his hard-on getting too restricted against his jeans. “For 7.5, I get to finger you?”

You pulled away from him to look him in the eyes and chuckled. “That sounds like more of a reward for me than it is for you.”

“But I really want it,” Jay confessed. “Please let me finger you.”

“Now?” You asked, placing your hands on his shoulders.

Jay nodded. “Aren’t you wet yet?”

He took the liberty to slide his hand under your pants, which happened to be elastic, thank God, and placed two fingers right along your slit. You elicited a whimper, and Jay could swear that you even shuddered at the sudden contact.

“You are,” Jay announced boldly. “Would you let me?”

His palm was right on your core anyway, and you thought that it would be stupid of you to refuse since he was already making you feel so good. Besides, his argument made sense.

“Okay,” you answered breathlessly, and within a second Jay was pulling your pants down to the floor.

“Seamless,” he commented as he eyed your panties. “Why am I not surprised?”

You shook your head and chuckled. “Why? Do you prefer a lacey thong?”

Jay stroked the inside of your thighs gently as he guided you by your waist to sit back down on the sofa, letting him hover his body over you.

“I would actually prefer nothing,” Jay whispered before closing the gap between your lips.

You felt his tongue enter your mouth and his fingers slipping inside of you almost at the same time, and the immense pleasure made you arch your back. His two fingers curled up inside you, making a ‘come hither’ motion that somehow felt gentle and harsh at the same time. He was moving his fingers at a slow pace, but the pressure he put on made you see stars.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, reaching for Jay’s arms to hold on to. “Jay…”

He loved the way you moaned his name, so he curled his fingers one more time and you whimpered, feeling your legs beginning to shake.

“Fuck,” you muttered again, tilting your head to the side, and letting Jay leave love bites along your neck. “Fuck, Jay, I’m gonna cum.”

“Please do,” he whispered into your ear, maintaining his pace the moment you told him so.

When you finally reached your high, your legs were shaking, and your body was spasming, and Jay had to wipe the sweat that formed on your forehead, tucking your hair behind your ear at the same time. His hand was drenched, and you could feel your cum trickling down onto the sofa.

“Oh my God, sorry,” you said in an instant.

Jay shook his head. “Don’t be,” he said calmly, waiting for you to catch your breath before he deemed it was time to pull his fingers out of you. When he did, you watched as he stared at them, two fingers glistening with your essence. He brought his hand up to his mouth and took a sniff before tasting it. The sight made you roll your eyes back.

“It’s unfair,” Jay began, “the way you taste as good as you smell.”

“God,” you said to yourself, and Jay laughed lowly, proud of how he was able to render you speechless. “What about you now?”

Jay tilted his head and then looked down at the obvious tent in his pants. “Oh, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it later.”

“In that case,” you said, pushing his chest slightly so he could move away from you. You tugged down your panties that had stayed on the whole time, and when you took them off your ankles you handed them to Jay.

“For later.”

You smiled as he took your panties in his hand, and you cackled the moment he took a sniff dramatically.

“Thanks, Noona,” Jay said, leaning in to leave a quick peck on your cheek. “Time to drive you back now.”

---

The next couple of meetings were spent in the same manner, more or less. Jay would try his best to get a score as high as he could, but he would never go over 7.5, so all you did was make out with him in his living room, in his bedroom, or even in his car on the ride back to campus. He took it like a champ, though, and he never insisted on taking things further than what you had previously agreed on.

You had one meeting left with him before his scheduled test, and you were dreading the day. Usually, you would be looking forward to meeting him, but all things come to an end, even private lessons, so you halfheartedly dolled yourself up in front of the mirror in your faculty’s restrooms, still determined to look your best for your favorite student.

The car ride to his house was spent in comfortable silence, and you did not mind the way his hand reached for your thigh, resting it there as he rubbed his thumb along your skin. You were wearing a short skirt for a change, and you loved the way it had caught his attention in an instant. Once you arrived, Jay took you by your hand and led you straight to his bedroom for privacy, since the workers were currently at his house.

“Noona,” he called for you before starting the mock test on his computer. You were halfway making yourself comfortable on his bed. “Can you sit with me while I do this?”

“Where?” You walked towards him.

He spun his chair towards you and patted his lap. “Here.”

You chuckled. “Why?”

“It’s our last meeting and I want to be close to you.”

You were underestimating the effects of his words and you felt like your stomach did a flip. You never shied away from his advances, though, so doing it now would be weird. And you did not want it to backfire and end up demotivating him.

“Okay,” you said, turning around before you carefully sat on his lap. You had to adjust your position several times to make sure he was comfortable, and he wrapped an arm around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder as he began the test.

“You can answer in your mind if you want,” Jay said, tilting his chin towards the screen.

You answered by reaching your hand back to stroke his hair, and he hummed in delight as he began answering the test. Eventually, you leaned your back towards his chest and sat comfortably, almost falling asleep from his warmth. You eyed the screen and noticed that he was about to answer a question wrong, so you placed your hand over his and moved the mouse to the right option.

“Isn’t this cheating?” He asked, genuinely unsure.

“I’m giving you a pass, Jay,” you answered calmly, patting his cheek.

After a while, he finished his mock test, and you saw the results come up as soon as he clicked next.

“You did it,” you said, staring at the screen. “That’s an 8.”

You noticed that Jay was silent for too long, and then you realized you had sat on his lap for too long, so you quickly stood up and stretched your legs, smoothing your skirt down.

“Are you ready for your reward?” You asked, eyes full of anticipation.

Jay licked his lips and shook his head. You immediately frowned.

“I feel like if you hadn’t corrected that one question, I would still get a 7.5,” Jay confessed. “It’s okay, I’ll skip the reward.”

“What?” You said, almost spitting your words out. You did not know why his refusal got you so worked up.

“Noona,” he began, reaching for your hands as he stood up from his seat. “I appreciate what you’ve been doing for me, but I also don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

You continued to frown, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I’ve loved the sessions we had, and I’m really thankful for all the rewards, but I need you to know that my goal remains the same, and it’s to get the highest score possible. The test is in a week, and I need to remain focused.”

He really did it, you thought. He used you to his advantage until he didn’t need you anymore.

But you knew that, deep inside. You knew that this way of giving him motivation would be dangerous, more for you than for him. You knew that Jay is a professional and that he takes his studies seriously, so you knew that catching feelings would be out of the picture for him.

Sadly, you forgot to set the boundaries for yourself.

You really thought that you could keep it casual, and you really thought that you were not going to start having feelings for him since it had been ages anyway since you had loved someone, so why does his professionalism hurt you? When in fact, you should be thankful that he respected you?

Your mind was running a mile a minute thinking of possible scenarios, and his face was becoming concerned. Eventually, you managed to fake a smile and you nodded before you said your response.

“As expected,” you began, “from the top student in class.”

Jay blinked, not expecting you to remember the one fun fact that Heeseung had told you about him.

“Your essays have improved so much since the first meeting. Your speaking is fine, just remember not to use fillers too much. You have no problem with the listening section, and for reading, I suggest you keep practicing during the few days before the test.”

Now, Jay was the one with a frown on his face. He was wondering why you were acting so formally again.

“I’ll text you good luck before the test, and when the results are out, tell me your score,” you continued.

“If I get over 7.5—”

“I’ll treat you to lunch.”

Jay scrunched his nose. “Pardon?”

“I’ll treat you to a nice lunch, okay? My pick this time,” you said with a smile so convincing that it was hard for him not to smile back.

“Okay,” Jay smiled back at you, trying to hide the tone of disappointment in his voice.

---

Days had passed by since Jay took his test, and even since the results of it came out. You held back from texting him first since he never responded to your good luck text on the day of his test. You then swallowed the bitter fact that, maybe, or most likely, Jay really was using you and your dumb self had consented to it.

But it could not be, you convinced yourself. He was a gentleman. Would he really do that?

You gave up trying to find answers that might make you feel better, so you decided to busy yourself with other freelance work that came your way. You felt bad turning down the other students that Heeseung had referred you to, and you had to come up with lame excuses like you had no time or you had way too much on your plate.

The real reason was that everything about the test prep now reminds you of Jay, and you would not want to take out your anger and disappointment on your new student. You thought it was best to stop tutoring for a while until you had completely moved on.

One of the latest gigs that got you a little too excited was speaking for a panel discussion in a workshop that was related to your teaching experience on campus. Previously, you attended these events as a participant, sitting in the audience and actively taking notes and recording the speakers, but now you get to see it from the other side of the stage, and you could not help but feel proud of yourself.

You dressed your best to impress, for once not dressing for yourself but for the audience, and when you sat in between the other speakers on stage you became so engrossed that you almost did not realize the familiar figure sitting on the front row but at the farthest chair from the stage.

Jay noticed you looking at him, so he threw you a soft smile and a tiny wave with his hand. You smiled and quickly turned towards the host who had called out your name to address a question. You answered the question and looked at the other speakers on your side, and you were glad that they were nodding along to your response, signaling that you had indeed answered the question correctly.

Surprisingly, it was not hard to stay focused on the rest of the discussion. Jay sat pretty far from your sight, so all you had to do was look anywhere except in his direction. You did look at him one more time, though, and you caught him looking at the huge screen that was focusing on your face as you were speaking. You almost sighed in relief a little too loudly when the session ended, and you gathered your belongings as well as your thoughts as the other people swarmed towards the outside of the hall.

You could feel someone approaching you from behind, and when you turned around Jay was looking at you with a soft gaze in his eyes.

“Noona,” he said.

“Hey, Jay,” you greeted him back.

“Listen, can I speak to you somewhere else private?” He asked before looking around and spotting several people still lingering inside the hall.

“This seems private enough,” you said as you looked around too. “I barely know anyone here.”

Jay became visibly uncomfortable, and you instantly felt bad.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I can drive you home and we can talk on the way, or—”

“Or, you can come up with me to my room,” you suggested.

Jay’s mouth was slightly open as he tried to process your words.

“I am staying here for the weekend. You don’t have to drive me anywhere,” you said with a smile, turning around to grab your bag. Your heart was beating a little too fast to your liking.

Jay tailed you and kept silent as you both waited for the elevator to open. Once it did, you entered and he followed behind you, waiting until the doors closed before he finally began to speak.

“I got an 8.5,” Jay said, looking down at the floor.

Your eyes widened. “Jay, that’s amazing!”

“I’m sorry,” he then said.

You were confused. “What?”

The elevator dinged and two people came inside. You decided to wait until you reached your floor to continue the conversation.

“I’ll explain once we’re inside, I promise,” Jay said as he matched your pace, walking beside you until you reach your door.

His face instantly switched from worried to wonder when he realized that you were walking all the way to the end of the hall.

“The event gave you a suite?” Jay asked, pure curiosity getting the best of him.

You could not help but chuckle. “No, I upgraded myself. Come in.”

As soon as you closed the door, you felt Jay pull your hand before he quickly trapped you between his body and the wall. You did not even have the time to be surprised because the next thing you knew his lips were latched onto yours, and your body betrayed you by reciprocating him and pulling him closer to you.

Jay quickly pulled away when he felt your fingers hooked on his belt. You licked your lips and let your eyes search for his.

“I’m sorry, I owe you an explanation,” Jay said, rubbing his hand on your waist. “I shouldn’t have lunged at you like this.”

You cleared your throat and fixed your hair, gently pushing him away from you before you made your way to the loveseat in the center of the room.

“Have a seat,” you replied, sitting on the sofa yourself and bringing your legs up to your chest.

Jay sat down and took his bag off, letting it fall to the floor as he let out a huge sigh.

“I don’t know where to start,” he confessed.

“Take your time,” you responded, stretching your arm and leaning your head on it. “Maybe start with why you didn’t reply to my texts?”

“I lost my phone,” Jay began. “Literally the night before the test. I had no time to get a new one, and I didn’t want to get distracted, so I just went on and took the test. Right after, though, my professor… that jackass…”

Your eyes widened at Jay’s frustrated insult, and you had to hold back a smile.

“It was just class after class, task after task, I really did not have the time or mental capacity to get back to you, and I don’t want you to think that I consider you as less of a priority, because I don’t, and I really tried to ask Heeseung for your number again, but it’s… you know what? These are excuses. I don’t want to give you excuses.”

You frowned but at the same time, an amused smile was slowly creeping up your face.

“I should have contacted you the minute I could, but I didn’t, and I let other stuff take up my time. That’s my mistake. I’m sorry.”

“Alright, apology accepted,” you said, tapping your fingers on the sofa.

Jay looked at you in confusion. “Really? That easy?”

You clicked your tongue and tilted your head. “That still does not explain why you kissed me a second ago, though.”

“Right,” Jay continued. He took a deep breath before he spoke again. “Right.”

You chuckled lightly and adjusted your position. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Because you’re so fucking gorgeous, and I have feelings for you but I’m not sure you have the same.”

You held a hand over your mouth in shock. “Jay,” you mumbled.

“You understood me wrongly,” he continued. “The day of our last meeting when I said I needed to remain focused. I was trying to confess to you.”

Your eyes were looking into his and you nodded once, telling him to continue.

“I really did not want you to think that I was taking advantage of you. I just grew to like you a lot, and you can’t even imagine how fucking relieved I was when you agreed to my proposal of rewards. Every single time I spent with you only deepened my feelings even more, and I…”

Jay paused to look at you, and you straightened your position.

“I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Rambling when I’m nervous?” Jay said, almost stuttering towards the end of his sentence.

You smiled to yourself before you pushed your body up. You made your way to his side and sat close beside him, touching your thigh with his.

“Well, let me tell you that I’m fucking relieved that you’re here to straighten things out,” you stated, resting a hand on his thigh. “Because guess what?”

You ended your question by inching your face closer to his.

“What?” He muttered under his breath.

“I have feelings for you, too.”

Jay sighed out of relief and smiled before he leaned in to kiss you, and as his hands found their place on your waist, you moved to straddle him. You were both in a familiar position, taking you back to the hours you would spend at his house, making out with him as a reward.

“Noona,” he spoke against your lips in between kisses. “When I said if I get more than 7.5, I was going to say I wanted to eat you out.”

You broke down laughing against his lips and you had to move your face to his neck so he wouldn’t choke on your breaths.

“You just had to interrupt me and say that you were going to treat me to lunch,” Jay continued before bringing your face back up and devouring your lips again. “You kind of owe me.”

You hummed against his lips and guided his hands to go underneath your shirt. He unhooked your bra with ease before moving his hands to cup both your breasts.

“God,” you muttered, grinding your hips harder against his crotch.

“Noona,” Jay breathed, moving his hand to unbutton your shirt. “Can’t you moan my name instead?”

“Oh, Jay,” you whispered, chuckling when you see him smile as your hands cupped his face. “You sweet little thing.”

Jay had managed to take both your bra and your shirt off in an instant, and you brought his head closer to your breasts so he could fondle them with his mouth. You moaned louder as he nibbled on your nipple, grinding faster against his hips and placing your hands firmly on his head.

“Why don’t I treat you to lunch now?” You proposed, tugging his hair and making him look up at you.

Jay nodded and you moved away from his lap, standing up and bringing him to his feet too. You started unbuttoning his shirt as you walked backwards, leading him towards the bed. He placed his hands firmly on your waist, letting you do your thing. Once the back of your legs hit the bed, you sat down and took off your panties and trousers in one go. Jay immediately kneeled in front of you.

“I still have your panties, Noona,” he said as you rested your legs comfortably on his shoulder.

“What do you do with it?” You asked, challenging him.

“I touch myself with it and imagine doing this to you.”

His lips brushed against your folds without warning, and you immediately fell back to the bed, lying down. He kissed your clit before running his tongue along your slit, and the warmth and wetness of his mouth drove you crazy. You began pulling on his hair, determined to get him even closer, and he reacted by hooking his arm around your thighs, humming as he lapped up your arousal.

“Jay,” you whimpered. “You’re doing so good.”

He began making loud wet noises deliberately, knowing how it would make you moan louder, and when you were squirming under his touch he inserted a finger, all the while toying with your clit using his tongue.

“Fuck!” You hissed, arching your back and lifting your ass from the bed. “Don’t stop, Jay, please.”

You pressed the ball of your foot against Jay’s back as he continued to eat you out, taking you to your first high of the night and cumming against his mouth. You were breathing loudly, panting so much like the air was sucked out of you. Jay squeezed your thigh before unlatching his lips, then he gently caressed your folds with his fingers, collecting the remains of your cum before licking them dry.

“Come here,” you begged, your hands reaching out for nothing until he moved and placed himself between your legs.

Jay leaned down and began kissing your jaw, and you took the liberty of unbuckling his belt and tugging his pants down as he devoured your neck. You felt the bulge underneath his boxers and almost froze at the contact.

“What’s wrong?” Jay asked, noticing how you stopped moving for a split second.

“You’re…” You tried your best to look down at his crotch. “You’re fucking huge.”

Jay was the one with a breathy chuckle now, amused at your reaction.

“That’s because it’s hard, and that’s because of you, Noona.”

“Fuck me, then,” you replied, bringing one hand to squeeze his biceps. “Literally, please.”

“Wait, let me just…”

Jay moved away from you to reach inside the pockets of his pants before kicking it off then he pulled his boxers off completely, and only then you realized he was holding a condom.

“That condom was in your pocket this whole time?” You asked in disbelief. “Were you expecting this to happen?”

“Noona,” Jay looked at you with a smirk. “You know how driven I am.”

“Oh my God,” you retorted, chuckling and covering your eyes with your arm. “Can’t believe I fell for it.”

Jay unwrapped the condom and slid it down his length with ease.

“Staying safe, are we?” You asked with a smile as you welcomed him back into your embrace.

“Well, I’m a med student, so…”

“Okay, enough, let’s just fuck.”

Jay kissed your face a couple more times until it got annoying because he was clearly stalling. You grabbed his face and he chuckled, biting his lower lip.

“You’re really pretty,” he confessed all of a sudden.

“And you’re hot as fuck, so can you just fuck me please?”

Jay nodded and kissed you with a smile, aligning his tip with your slit. “Take a deep breath,” he whispered.

You did as he said, and you were glad you did. Jay filled you up and once again you had underestimated your own predictions. Back when you were still just making out and straddling him, you only had a faint idea of his size, and he was wearing loose pants all the time, so it was not like you were able to tell easily. Your breath became shaky as you felt him bottom out, and he brought his hand up to caress your face.

“Tell me if it’s okay to move,” he whispered ever so gently before kissing your nose.

You opened your eyes and found him staring at you. You were breathing from your mouth, so he tilted his head to kiss your cheek softly. After that, you reached your hands under his arms, latched them on his shoulders, and then you nodded.

He pulled out of you and thrusted back in gently, and the force already had you gasping for air. Once he found a steady rhythm, you began matching his pace, thrusting your hips upwards and meeting him halfway. It was impossible to hold back your moans, and if you weren’t moaning you were whimpering, or breathing his name with every stroke he made.

“I’m close, Noona,” he spoke against your lips.

You nodded and ran your fingers through his hair. “Me too.”

Jay began increasing his pace, thrusting into you with a little more force. He looked down and placed a hand under your thigh, keeping your leg secure beside him. He then looked up at you to check if you were still okay. You licked your lips and pulled him into a kiss. His thrusts soon began to grow sloppy, and after he finally released his seed, your walls clenched around his shaft, letting him know that you had reached your high too.

You slowly try to catch your breath, and Jay kissed you once more before pulling out of you, careful not to make a mess. He took the condom off and tied it before quickly chucking it in the bin, and he made himself comfortable lying beside you. Your hand was looking a little lonely, so he took it and intertwined his fingers with yours.

The two of you sat in silence as both your chests heaved up and down. You turned your head to look at Jay and he was closing his eyes as if he was savoring the moment. You scooted closer to him, taking your hand away but letting him wrap you in his arms.

“So, what are we?” You asked in the most straightforward manner.

Jay’s heavy breaths turned into a chuckle, and soon after you were both just laughing like idiots madly in love.

-END-

© forjongseong 2023, all rights reserved

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!!! do NOT copy, translate, or repost any of my work to your blog or ANY other platform.

#writtenbynana #fic: the reward #enhypen #jay #enhypen jay #jay enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen jay smut #jay smut #jay enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen campus au #enhypen university au #jay hard hours #jongseong #jongseong smut #jongseong park #park jongseong #enhypen x reader #jay x reader #jongseong x reader

[musicalchaos07]

College AU where Mike was supposed to room with Dustin but shenanigans ensue and he ends up rooming with Will and they do not get along. Will thinks Mike is messy, Mike Hates Will's music but they're both trying to make the best of it. (Don't worry they're going to kiss kiss fall in love)

Meanwhile, Max lives with Dustin and Lucas because the school messed up and thought she was a boy. And the three of them are getting into absolute hijinks while trying to hide the fact that Max shouldn't be in that room.

AND IN THE BACKGROUND, Nancy is the editor of the school paper and has been in a secret relationship with Jonathan for like two years so they could avoid nepotism allegations. 

But wait where's El? You ask. Simple she's in the other dorm with a similar name wondering why her roommate never showed up and rushing the sorority Chrissy's in. (Or she's living in Jonathan and Argyle's apartment and in on the nepo baby secret)

#anyways idk where this came from #(the depths of my brain) #BTW Max Lucas and Dustin are very much giving Rachel Jack and Eric from BMW #also Steve Robin and Vickie have an off campus apartment #Steve is having a MISERABLE time as a barista #Jonathan as Nancy's little nepo baby is very important to me #stranger things #st au ideas #st fic ideas #byler #jancy #mike wheeler #will byers #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #dustin henderson #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #el hopper byers

[oldshrewsburyian]

I love this ask! A Persuasion Campus novel please. (Must go lie down at the thought of Ciarán Hinds as a college professor.)

So, to address your parenthetical first: you've seen Circle of Friends, right? I didn't love it, and his role, iirc, is not sympathetic; however:

The academic gown over the three-piece suit is just gratuitous. AHEM. A Jane Austen campus novel AU is tricky, I think, because I have to undo most if not all of the family relationships in favor of other connective nexuses (nexes? nexii? help). Here goes. I might have spent too much time thinking about this over my morning tea.

Sir Walter Elliott is, inevitably, the college president. He's photogenic. He loves uttering empty and incorrect platitudes about his own achievements. He loves schmoozing with important people. Unfortunately, he's perfect for the job.

The Admiral and Sophy have been at the university for ages, and the Admiral loves to tell the story about how he was her spousal hire in 1987, not the other way around.

Elizabeth is using family money to take a never-ending PhD in fashion history. She's always weirdly vague about her project, and finds a way not to participate in chapter exchanges. Rumor says that it's Sir Walter's influence keeping her from being kicked out.

Mary took an M.A., married money, and has been (dis)contentedly living on the UWS ever since. It's not quite true to say that she's never looked back. She visits colloquia and other open department functions with a depressing persistency, and appears not to notice that this is sometimes awkward for people who are united by their passion for a subject in which she never excelled.

Louisa and Henrietta are grad students, and remarkably carefree with it. Somehow their work does, in fact, get done.

Harville is, I think, Wentworth's sailing club buddy.

Mr. Elliott will be a smarmy visiting academic at another area institution. Unfortunately, I know his type. Eventually it will come out that he's eternally "visiting" because of a plagiarism scandal in his past.

Lady Russell is, of course, Anne's PhD supervisor. Who else would be in loco parentis and giving prudent and unwelcome advice?

Anne administers the interdisciplinary center in eighteenth-century studies. While she is several decades younger than those who usually take on such jobs, this works out well for several reasons. She has a head for detail, and is conscientious to a fault. Also, the faculty are (almost) all extremely fond of her, and the importance of this in getting academics to comply with bureaucratic necessities cannot be overstated. She's an alum of the program, and did finish her PhD. Lady Russell still sometimes sighs, a little too audibly, when she sees her erstwhile star student being competent in the front office. But care-taking duties during her mother's long illness meant that Anne's progress through the degree was slow, and international conference travel to boost her reputation didn't happen. The job market, with its precarity and long-distance upheavals, didn't either. So here is Anne, still in the department. Anne herself may not have the career or the life she dreamed of, but she has employment and health insurance, which is more than many recent PhDs can say. She sings in a choir. She tells herself that she has a good life.

Frederick Wentworth was Sophy's student. (I will miss her big sister energy, but a PhD supervisor also has the lifelong privilege of dragging you and telling you to get your life together, so here we are.) Lady Russell thought he was always going to burn out. Sure, he looked good on paper: a bright scholarship student from a state school in the fields of nowhere. But his project, studying contested empire and constructions of masculinity in the Atlantic world using network analysis, was always too ambitious. Until it wasn't.

With several fellowships, a postdoc, and a visiting position at a SLAC behind him -- the OUP monograph is in press -- Frederick Wentworth is back. Lady Russell wasn't on the search committee. But not only is Frederick Wentworth competent to teach the gender studies courses the department wants and the survey courses the university wants, he is also willing to take on the military history courses that the jocks want. "Thank God," says Sophy bluntly, once he's accepted the offer, "I won't have to read their opinions of my haircut in the student evals anymore." Also, there's that OUP monograph. No one quite says out loud that they have in their midst that rarest of creatures, the photogenic male historian who actually is a historian. But the consciousness runs through the halls like a current. This, for the department, could be a beginning.

For Anne, it is something else. It's not that they dated, exactly. It was never that formal, or that limited. Only in retrospect, really, did she realize that it was odd to spend an entire day walking around looking at architecture, or to end up with intertwined ankles on a museum bench, or to cook freely in each other's kitchens, before having an understanding. The understanding came. It was a November night, and they were sitting on a bench in Riverside Park, and she didn't feel the cold. They had agreed that they'd go on the job market together. They would read each other's applications the way they read each other's dissertation chapters. And they'd move to wherever one of them got a tenure-track job first. And then everything fell apart. Anne still thinks that Dr. Russell was right, that it wouldn't have been fair to hold him. More, she thinks that she herself could not have borne to lose what they had in a slow death of long-distance phone calls, too-brief visits, awkward negotiations of what they could and could not expect. Better to be sensible. Better to make a clean break while they were still young, still resilient. But she has never felt resilient. And now Frederick Wentworth is back.

#persuasion #campus novel au #will i actually end up writing this?

[nibbelraz]

SQQ has really strong serial adopter vibes. I feel like he and LBH would have a couple bio kids (courtesy of some mpreg or oviposition plant that makes SQQ curse like a sailor and nearly kill SQH), but he'd also just kind of acquire a stray kid every few years or so

Oh for sure

They have a whole group of kids, man, especially if they're immortal they're going to have enough kids to overpower all the sects

#svsss #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #army of kids #I like this idea with Moshang too. Actually #a lot more fics I've seen had Moshang just taking on every kid that they see that needs help #which reminds me of the college campus An Ding au but instead its just all of Shang Qinghua's kids #nib text #ask

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 35

PREV

"Andrew, wake up." Andrew felt a hand on his shoulder and he lashed out as he always did. He found himself rocketing towards consciousness as he heard Neil's pained grunt. Panic lances through him as he realizes what he had hit instead of the intruder and he's glad they compromised when he and Neil had started to sleep in the same bed.

Andrew pulls Neil in closer to protect him even as Neil groans at the sudden jolting movement.

He needs to get-

"I already moved your secret pillow knife Andrew." The intruder says as Andrew's hand grasps at nothing. He has a second one but the intruder is now armed and Neil-

"Erik and the Hans Moretti Sword Box are the only combination of me, another guy, and blades being stabbed at me that I will accept. Now, wake up." The familiar sounding intruder says.

Andrew blinks awake.

Nicky's frowning face is staring down at him.

"I need to borrow the Maserati, or you need to drive me to Abby's house. Right now." Nicky says without a hint of the fear.

Or, at least, not fear of Andrew.

"What's wrong with Smith?" he asks holding out his hand for his pilfered knife as he rubs Neil's side where he had lashed out instinctively.

Nicky looks at him for a long moment before handing the knife back to Andrew, "There's...I just feel like something isn't right. I want to be there with him, I shouldn't have left him there." Nicky says.

Andrew didn't disagree.

FF had been relaxed and at ease, drinking the disgusting smoothie that Kevin had forced on him, and Andrew had noticed a hint of a smile on his friend's face.

Then that fuckface showed up and FF had looked worse than when Andrew had stabbed him. He still remembered the garbage that piece of shit had spewed and Andrew hated knowing things about his friend that his friend hadn't told him.

Hated that his brain could piece moments that made a horrible amount of sense now. FF staring at his car the first time before climbing in, how he had requested that Andrew focus on the road, Nicky looking at all of them exasperated "Smithy was going to walk back", and-

“See, you’re still upset over what that guy did. Why are you clinging to the last name of the guy that did this to you?” Fuckface asks from behind them, “He almost killed mom and you. He did kill our two-“

"Stop."

Andrew makes himself stop thinking about it. It wasn't something FF wanted to talk about.

"The keys are where I always put them." he says because he thinks if he gets out of bed he might go hunt fuckface for sport. The thought of seeing fuckface's well fucking face as he hits him with the Maserati is not a bad one.

"Thank you Andrew. Sorry Neil." Nicky says and Neil waves it off having mostly drifted back to sleep as Andrew had rubbed his back mindlessly.

Nicky leaves without another word. Andrew settled back into bed hand still mindlessly rubbing Neil's back. He closes his eyes. He thinks about how FF had looked at those two kids a few weeks back.

He'd looked like a good older brother.

He holds Neil tight, focuses on the feeling of his even breathing on his neck, and listens to Kevin's snoring to think about a monster consuming Daniel whole.

******

Sometimes Matt feels like he misses out on things with his friends. It didn't happen that often and he doesn't regret the Thanksgiving he spent with his Mom and Dan. Not a single atom regrets making hand turkeys with Dan or holding Dan and his Mom's bags during their Black Friday spree.

He still felt ice in his stomach when he heard that some of Nathan's men had come for Neil and that FF had gotten hurt. FF hadn't seemed overly bothered by the injury and Matt was looking forward to having the freshman as a roommate once he was fully cleared by Abby.

FF was a good kid and Matt had a hard time disliking someone who so obviously looked up to and liked his best friend. He'd told Dan about the 'Captain Neil' title and the two of them had just about died talking about how sweet they both found it.

Which is why he feels a certain kind of way when he finds out his Skype date with Dan had him miss out on a face that, based on what he heard from an incensed Aaron, was in desperate need of a punch.

"Where's Nicky?" Matt asks.

"He couldn't stop worrying about Smiths, he doesn't have Friday classes so he mentioned something about sticking with Smiths." Aaron explains over his oatmeal and Matt turns his head towards the wall they shared with Neil, Andrew, and Kevin's room as he hears the blender going. Aaron shovels the remainder of his oatmeal into his mouth, "I gotta go. I'll see you later." he says.

Matt waves his roommate off and wonders what the sudden rush was but it was hardly three minutes later that Kevin Day was bursting into their room without knocking. "Aaron, I need your-" Kevin stops gaze settling on Matt. "Where's Aaron?" he asks.

Matt looks at him, "He just left." he says. Kevin looks to the ceiling in obvious frustration, "Anything I can help with?" Matt asks while at the same time cursing himself for asking.

"Have you had breakfast?" Kevin asks immediately.

"Uh...no?" Matt says.

"Perfect. Drink this." Kevin says shoving a smoothie into Matt's hand. Matt looked at the blue-ish smoothie in his hands and then back up to Kevin. "You asked if there was anything you could help with. Tell me how that tastes." he points at the beverage and Matt recognizes the distinct smell of one of Kevin's health shakes.

"I don't want to do this." Matt says setting the smoothie to the side.

"I'm trying to improve the flavor." Kevin says, "It was brought to my attention that it isn't very...good tasting." Kevin adds sounding like the admission costs him something.

"Just now? You just figured out they taste like butt, just now?" Matt asks incredulously.

Kevin flushes, "Smiths drank it without complaint!" he exclaims.

"Yeah, 'cuz Smithster is nice! Also I think his face is just stuck like that." Matt says.

"There was no way I could have known they were gross!" Kevin argues.

"Kevin, most people TASTE the things they're giving to others." Matt points out and Kevin only grows redder.

"Are you going to help me improve the taste or not?!" Kevin demands pointing at the smoothie, "that's phase one right there." he points at the beverage.

Matt considers it, "This is to make these god awful smoothies taste better for Smithster?" he asks finally feeling like there was something he could offer his friend.

"Yes." Kevin says.

"And you can't just taste them yourself....because?" Matt asks.

"I need multiple datapoints, it can't just be me." Kevin answers immediately.

Matt rolls his eyes but he was not one to deny the scientific process, "Fine." he agrees and grabs the smoothie, "You said this was phase one of improving the flavor?" he asks.

"Yes." Kevin says.

Matt nods and brings the smoothie to his lips.

Bitter. Slimey. Why is it spicy? So Bitter. It's liquid how is it chalky?

He immediately spits it out, "Why does it taste like that?!" Matt demands immediately. "You said it was phase one?!" he hisses.

"That's the control. I needed your opinion on where I was starting." Kevin jerks his head to the side towards the entrance of Matt's dorm, "C'mon, we've got work to do." he says leaving the room without taking his godforsaken smoothie with him.

Matt looks to the ceiling like Kevin had earlier. Honestly, the world had been a darker place since Kevin had to take the required science course last year.

****** There was no singular more 'freshman' thing that FF had done, in Nicky's opinion, than the fact that the kid had early Friday classes. Nicky had gotten to Abby's place late and hadn't slept before, too caught up in a conversation with Aaron.

FF had been awake when he'd gotten to Abby's, staring blankly into the fridge and based on how cold his friend's pajamas were he couldn't help but wonder how long FF had been there. So he herded FF back to bed and FF had pressed his face into Nicky's shoulder and hadn't let go. So Nicky had crawled into bed after FF had nodded his consent.

Nicky had slept terribly.

Still, he woke up with FF's alarm. FF's gaze was about a thousand miles away but he got ready for his two early Friday classes robotically. Nicky shot a text to Aaron and Andrew to let them know that he'd stick with FF for the day to make sure that if Daniel showed up he wouldn't bother FF.

FF walked into a wall as he was texting. "Aw, bud." he says and sets him on a new course.

Andrew texted to tell him that Neil was going to talk with Wymack about not giving Daniel a chance.

He heard another thud, "Oh, Smith don't run into that." he hears Abby say worriedly.

Nicky puts his phone away.

Focus.

He gets FF through breakfast and through the walk to campus. He takes a seat next to FF in his Math class and ignores the narrowed eyes of the person who's usual seat he has obviously taken. He turns in FF's homework, pays attention, takes some notes, answers the clicker questions for FF, and guides him out and over towards his next class.

He sees Daniel being shown around campus by Jack.

He texts Aaron for back-up. The two of them manhandle FF across campus just in time for his Japanese class and Nicky and Aaron swear up and down that they are just there to look in on the class. Nicky hands the clicker off to Aaron since the future doctor's handwriting left a lot to be desired.

Eventually it was done and Nicky and Aaron had to maneuver FF through a truly STARTLING amount of people who wanted to 'have a word' with FF. Nicky remembers that kid from months back. 'The Adonis of the Foreign Language Department'

Eventually through a combination of Nicky's polite declinations, Aaron glowering, and FF walking into another wall they managed to escape the Foreign Language department of Palmetto State University.

"I think we deserve a treat." Nicky says, "Everyone who agrees raise your hand." he adds and raises his own hand before lifting FF's hand up and looking to see Aaron lift his own hand up.

"Are we sure he's okay in there?" Aaron asks waving a hand in front of FF's face as they made their way to an ice cream shop that had excellent waffle cones and was the place that sold FF's favorite triple berry milkshake.

"Yeah, this happens sometimes." Nicky says even if it had never gone on this long with FF having to reboot his system. It feels like his friend may have blue-screened but Nicky's willing to wait it out.

"If you're sure." Aaron says expression giving away how unconvinced he is but he moves along, "Did you do what we talked about last night?" he asks.

"Yeup." Nicky says popping the 'p' at the end.

"Good." Aaron says as he opens the door to the ice cream shop.

****** Andrew is walking to Abby's with Neil, Kevin, and Matt to pick up his car. Nicky had texted Andrew that he and Aaron were hanging out at Abby's trying to get FF to snap out of whatever daze he had fallen into.

"We have to let him tryout and there will be someone from the university there making sure it's all fair." Neil spits the word out with obvious disgust. "Like any of this shit is fair!" Neil kicks a pebble on the sidewalk.

Andrew keeps his thoughts to himself that if Daniel just doesn't make it to the tryouts then there's no issue. This whole mess kicked off because he stabbed FF and Andrew wanted to make it right. FF may not blame Andrew and may still reflexively tell anyone who asks that Romero did it, but Andrew can't forget the moment he looked over and saw his knife in FF's stomach and realized that the blood on his hands was his friend's.

"He might be a good addition to the team." Kevin says.

"Kevin, if you say that one more time I'm going to dump phase 3 down your throat." Matt hisses.

Kevin recoils in visible disgust and notably keeps his mouth shut. Andrew will have to get the recipe off of Matt if it's that effective at shutting Kevin up.

They make the final turn onto Abby's street and Andrew's eyes narrow as he looks at Abby's driveway where there was only one car.

"Where the fuck is my car?" he asks.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

#Fluent Freshman AU #AFTG #AFTG AU #FF - Pt 35 #Fluent Freshman Friday #Ya'll are getting a long one because the Matt POV took me #Jack is showing Daniel around the campus #And the two of them are both growing INCREASINGLY irritated with the other #Because it's two people who can't help but be so far up their own asses #That having to listen to someone be up THEIR own ass? TORTURE. #Jack was showing him around because the Wymack asked him to. #Wymack was hoping that Daniel would leave #Neil was his usual charming self to the board of directors #Which is to say he ripped them apart #Honestly if Andrew was there at the board meeting the last scene wouldn't have happened #Andrew and Neil would be too busy sexiling Kevin to be walking and see FF #But alas #Andrew was doing homework and eating ice cream #Also Matt and Kevin got up to Phase 13 #Because I'm a sucker for keeping up with themes #Andreil

[mistykaru]

i got stuff from the csp asset store and i wanted to play with it so this is a mess but i did have fun and i kinda dig the vibes

#andreil #aftg #the foxhole court #all for the game #i just thought the lil computer window borders were so cute #also okay listen my vision: #lmao i just wrote college au and completely forgot the canon story is in college pls #but like alt where neil does the photos bc he gets a camera #art majors???? #idk what's going on my vision is gone i am blind now #it was like a we pass each other on campus and a double take with warning signs is happening #i just thought the warning signs looked kinda cool #i also wanted the wavey thing to be a heartbeat w a skippy in it but i didnt know how to make it look nice it wasn't cooperating #and honestly i was getting tired of trying to figure out what should go in the space #i am not an aesthetic person idk how people do the fancy lil edits all the time #i draw i dont do graphic design i dont have the frog within necessary #myart #anyway im running away now bc idk how i feel about this bye

[mblue-art]

once again i was fueled with coffee (did not sleep the whole night) but this time i doodled college au to cope bc ofc i did (also did not feel like sleeping wooo)

#self insert #cross!sans #epic!sans #mblue art #cm #m rambles #(that tag is needed bc hoo boy u can tell i did not get sleep and is fueled by caffeine) #(do not be like me!!!!!!!!! do not deprive urself of sleep 💀💀💀) #(get a good 6-7hrs a day if u can. if 4-5hr works better for u then im not forcing u to sleep more 😤😤😤 as long as u rest well 😁👍) #(AND HYDRATE... if ur reading this try to take a sip rn 🥤) #campus au #(college au scenarios will be tagged that heehoo) #not colored just lines bby 😎😎😎 #idiots to lovers type shit where they both confide in epic n he's just chillin #waiting for the time when these dummies will finally confess to eachother themselves #(look i think it's rlly funny seeing cross be all cool calm collected in public but when he talks to epic abt his crush) #(he goes insane with a million different flustered/blushing emojis) #( 'they told me good luck on my test and gave me the nicest smile ever how was i gonna live after that' goofy ass. idiot /aff) #( 'DUDE THEY GAVE ME A MOTIVATIONAL NOTE. IN /PINK/ PAPER. ON CHOCOLATE. DOES THIS...... 😳' guys i love silly dorky cross to bits so much) #(man fucking explodes w his simping n epic just goes LMAO but he's v supportive for his bruh 💪😤) #(on the other hand my sona thinks he's sooo cool and awesome and smart and honestly fucking charming HHELLO THE TIMES WHEN HE LAUGHS AND) #(AND SMILES HELLOOO MR HANDSOME I MEAN WHATT) #( 'stars if he likes me back i wouldn't know what to do with myself. fucking EXPLODE? YIPPEE CONFETTI??' lots of flushge ) #(going ueueue at big bro epic bc they got a super massive crush on his bestie but) #(but the head is entertaining 'what-if's BUT i think kuya epic knows how to steer the thoughts away from those and smack em w teasing 😎✨) #(ultimately distracting and successfully reassuring them 😎😎😎) #(tsundere mblue no way not in here im down bad astronomically full on simping my guys) #(he might be a dumbass sometimes but he's my dumbass) (ok i'll shut up now fr) #anywayz campus au is the my highschool au but we're all adults and more tired yippeee

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unspoken Crimes

Masterlist

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, violence, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You finally make a splash at college, but you come to regret being noticed. (short, plus sized reader)

Characters: Frank Castle, Billy Russo

A note on reader characters:

For clarity,  each reader will have a defined nickname when appearing in any installment not their own. This is Sunny. This fic also features Foxy.

Note: It took me ages to finish by I did it.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Donkey love Waffles. Take care. 💖

The blaring alarm startles you awake. You peel your face off the textbook, the page sticking to your cheek for a moment before you can sit up straight. Your study session as usual turned into naptime. You rouse in confusion, as put off by the siren as the missing memory of when you dozed off.

You grip your skull as it pounds with the constant noise and you murmur at your dead laptop. You don’t think your test is going to go very well tomorrow. You stand and stretch out the kinks, the babble of voices and shuffle of footsteps sounding from outside your door.

You go to the door and open it, yawning as you keep a hand over your left ear, the whirling echo in the hall even louder than in your room. Girls wrapped in blankets stagger by sleepily, some drunkenly, eyeliner smeared and uggs clamouring beneath them. As Radeesha passes, you wave to her, trying to catch her attention.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You yell above the alarm.

She shakes her head at you and rolls her eyes. You smile and apologise under your breath. She looks tired and must be as put off by the alarm as you. You watch as the rest of your floor traipse by, some faces you don’t recognise, boyfriends, girlfriends, and other visitors. 

You quickly grab your slippers from beside the door and follow the tide of students to the nearest exit. It must be the fire alarm. A drill at 2am hardly seems likely and you smell smoke. Oh shit, is it for real? Is there a fire?

As you come out into the frigid early morning air, you near Brianna, the girl who lives next door, and voice the question aloud.

“I don’t fucking know,” she grumbles as she shivers under a pink duvet, “the fuck you asking me for, loser?”

You hug yourself and back away. She’s tired. She’s always grumpy when she has to wake up early and it’s really early. You don’t feel too great yourself. You excuse her snappy retort and go to stand near the back of the crowd, clusters of students watching the approach of a wailing red fire truck.

Your teeth chatter and you regret not grabbing more than your woolly slippers. The bottoms have no traction on the icy ground and your thin PJs offer little shield against the billowing winds. You blow into your hands and rub them together as a Campus PD cruiser pulls up beside the fire truck.

The officers speak with one man in a yellow jacket before letting him follow the rest of his crew towards the building. The firefighters disappear inside to clear out the place as smoke plumes from the back of the building. Hopefully it’s nothing too serious.

“I told Carissa candles were against the rules,” a girl you don’t recognise sneers, “she never fucking listens.”

“Could be something else,” someone replies, “gas stoves aren’t exactly the safest around drunk coeds.”

“Says the drunk coed…” the reply comes dryly.

“Everyone, get back,” the officers call out, herding back the hordes with a wave of their arms, “get to the gathering point.”

The taller officer gestures past the wall of students to the bright green sign on the other side of the street. You turn as slowly the bodies begin to retreat, grumbling and griping about the campus police. You slip across the road, the cold biting through your cotton tee and stinging your skin.

“Hey,” you see Radeesha as you step up on the curb, “how’s it going?”

“What do you want?” She scowls.

“Cold out,” you chirp.

“No shit,” she scoffs and sends a look to Emma and mouths ‘what the fuck’? You look back to the building and rock in place, jeez, no one likes being woken up in the middle of the night, do they?

You drift away as you watch the building and a lick of orange gleams through one of the windows. You gasp as several others notice and let out their own surprise. Your eyes round and you worry you might not have a bed to go back to that night.

You shake as the cold crawls up your legs, your fingertips and toes numb, your skin raw and your bones aching. It’s freezing. You squat down and grab your feet, trying to warm them as you try to conserve your body heat. 

The snow crunches under heavy soles and suddenly, you’re knocked over as a leg collides with your shoulder. You squeak as you catch yourself on your hands, fingers sinking into the hard snow. You peer up as a dark figure looks back. The officer’s uniform is lined with iridescent strips that glow in the night and limn his figure.

“What’re you doin’ down there?” He bends and grabs your arm, yanking you to you feet, “where’s your coat?”

“I… I forgot— I didn’t have time–”

“Little thing like you will freeze out here,” he tisks, “we’re all outta blankets…”

You look around and see other students wrapped in the crinkly silver blankets, huddled together as you’re lost in your usual floating solitary.

“It’s okay,” you chime, “I’ll be alright. I’m sure the fire’s not too bad.”

“Aren’t you a chipper little thing,” he remarks as he unzips his coat, “here.” He shrugs out of the jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, “vest makes me sweat anyway.”

“Oh, I can’t–”

“You’re gonna catch cold if you don’t,” he warns with a point in your face, “don’t worry, it’s got my name on it. I ain’t worried about losing it.”

“Uh, thanks, sir,” you sway as he pulls the coat closed around you, his warmth and scent clings to the fabric and surrounds you, “I’ll make sure I give it back.”

“Oh, I’ll come find ya if you don’t,” he warns with a smirk, “now go back with your friends. Can’t have you getting lost out here.”

He looks over at the other students and you give a nod. You sidle over towards the chattering coeds, glancing back at the officer until he finally turns away. Those around you avoid you as you stand amid the crowd, leaving you adrift in the sea of your peers.

You peek down and reach to smooth down the collar. You read the name sewn into the jacket, ‘Castle’. That’s an interesting last name. You retract your hand, pulling the coat snug around you as you’re attention is drawn back to the dorm, the orange glare no longer glowing on the top floor.

As you pass Ellie, another girl on your floor, you give a wave but she doesn't seem to notice. She leans against the boy beside her as you skirt around to the curb and stare across the street. The cold has you wide awake now, maybe you'd have time to actually study.

"Little girl," the other officer emerges in the wode umbrella of the streetlight above, "nice jacket…"

"Oh, uh," you sputter and look down.

"You know it's a serious offense to be stealing from police," he smirks, "and Castle," he flicks the letter beside the zipper, "that's my partner. We look out for each other."

"What--n-no, he let me– he lent it to me, sir, officer," you stutter and look at the name sewn into his matching coat; B. Russo, "I swear, he was just…" you look around, searching for the other man.

"I'm kidding with you, girl," he winks as you turn back to him, "he's too nice for his own good sometimes."

"Oh," you nod, "yeah, he was nice."

"Especially to girls," he adds.

"Hm, ah, well, I forgot my coat."

"Cute," he scoffs, "you like candles?"

"What?"

"Satsuma candles?"

"Um, no, they're prohibited," you frown, realising his inference. "I got one of those plug in thingies."

"Ah, yeah, you wouldn't do anything 'prohibited', would you? You seem like a good girl."

You bite the inside of your lip to keep a grimace from marring your face. He talks in riddles. You shrug.

"I try," you answer half-heartedly.

"Do you know anyone," he lifts a single gloved finger and steps closer, his thick coat rustling, "who likes candles?"

"Well, I…" you glance around as Carissa leans against another girl, barely awake on her feet, "no," you can't be that one. The snitch. You won't make any friends that way, "I don't really know… too many people."

"You don't? Don't you got friends?"

"Erm, I didn't say I didn't," you’re defensive at her accusatory tone, "but they don't live here, is all."

"Relax, I'm sure you're a popular one, mousey," he says derisively, "now you make sure to give my partner his jacket back before you go back to bed." He tucks a thumb into his pocket, "cops don't take too kindly to stealing."

"I–"

"And try not to think too much about him before you fall asleep," he winks, "he's a married man." You frown and shake your head, shocked by his very obvious suggestion. He chuckles and leans in, "but I'm not."

You look around awkwardly. This isn't happening. This doesn't happen to you. The only time a guy ever hit on you was part of a high school bet, one you couldn't win.

"Don't worry, you'll see me around," he stands and shifts his hat, "this is my patrol block. Night watch."

You take a breath and force a smile, "thanks, officer, I uh, think they're letting us back in now."

"I hear them heaters are shit. I got a bit of a magic touch myself if you ever need someone to have a look. Those old radiators just need a little…" he putts his hands out in an almost lewd gesture and gropes the air, "coaxing."

"Um, thank you, okay, sir," you murmur as you back away, "can you give this back for me?" You take the coat off and hand it over, "I got a test tomorrow."

He tilts his head and accepts the coat, but not without grazing your arm and giving a long look to your PJs.

"You're smart not to sleep naked," he snickers as he tucks the thick coat under his arm, "too bad, though."

You don't know how to reply, so you don't. He's an officer, what are you gonna say? Who are you gonna tell? Besides, you heard guys say way worse behind you in class.

"Have a good night," you eke out as you hesitantly step past him.

"You too, mousey," he clicks his tongue, "sweet dreams."

You cross the street and join the train of students lining up to be let back inside. A remnant of smoke lingers in the air and parches your throat. You glance around at the chattering and dazed faces. What a strange night.

📖

Your grandmother always told you you have bad impulse control. You can't help but agree with her as you come out of the corner shop with your haul; a bag of doritos and several fruity energy drinks. The craving drew you out of your dorm into another chilly night, but with another walk across campus ahead of you, you regret more and more the hasty decision for a late night snack.

You swing the bag as you set off, the campus shrouded as distant orbs float around the edges of buildings and between the barren trunks and branches. The green lights atop the square poles and the taller pillars that curve over the walk with lantern-style shades that cast a patchy glow across the ground. You keep your chin down as a chill rattles your bones and you crunch past a snow-dusted bench, turning off down the next path.

Distant echoes of footsteps and muffled tones that could be voices waft in the air. You can't tell as the frigid air and heaps of snow dampen all noise. Cars whish by along the roadways divided by the plots of academies and offices, an eerie feel to the mostly empty sprawl.

As you delve into the shadows of the social sciences facade, you hear the scuff of soles and the gritty crunch of pebbles and frozen snow. A figure specks in a cone of light beneath a towering pole before dissipating into the endless night. You clutch tight the plastic bag as it noisily brushes against your long coat. The stranger is gone without a look in your direction.

You hear another scrape, a soft mewl, a sniffle, and the scatter of a stick across the cold pavement. You gulp as you stop, teetering as you try to decide whether to keep going or take another route. A shaky breath makes up your mind as a whimper piques at the end.

You round the corner, one of the tall square poles at the cross point of the walkways ahead. Between you and the green light is a person. The body sits on the ground, her legs splayed and bent as she cradles her head. You don't know her. Of course you don't, it's impossible to know everyone. It's even hard to keep your professors straight. 

"Uh, are you okay?" You ask gently. She flinches as she raises her chin and looks at you, her eyes hollow with shadows, "did you fall?"

She doesn't say anything, instead planting her hands as she brings her feet down flat. She tries to stand but can't seem to find the strength. You rush forward and offer your hand.

"Pretty icy out here–"

"Icy?" She snarls as she stands for a moment, only to stumble and catch herself on a bench.

"Did you slip?" You ask again and drop your hand to your side.

She shakes her head before she leans forward and grips her temples, "no."

"What happened?" You step closer.

She's quiet as he fixes her rumpled jacket and winces again. You look around, searching for any evidence of what unfolded there. She looks dazed, lost. You wonder if she hit her head.

"Nothing," she utters at last.

You narrow your eyes as you see a metal shape in the crack of the pavement and you bend to pick it up. The kind of button you find on a pair of jeans. You look at her as she wipes grains of dirt from her cheek.

"This yours?"

She shakes her head as she grips the side of the bench and huddles over her lap, "I'm fine–"

"Did someone hurt you?"

Your question hangs. Unanswered. You stare at the button and think of the shadow you saw a few minutes ago. They came from this direction.

"Someone did this–"

"No, it doesn't matter," she touches her stomach as she stands, her legs wobbling from the effort.

"Oh my god," you close your fingers around the button, "we have to tell someone."

You turn on your heel and scurry towards the bright yellow button attached to the pole, 'press for help'. You sense her behind you. She grabs onto your elbow right as you hit the button with your other hand. She spins you to face her as she grabs the front of your parka.

"Why would you do that?" She bellows over the beeping siren as the flashing green hues limn her frazzled features.

"You're hurt," you say bluntly.

"What the fuck are those donut-breathed idiots gonna do about it?" She sneers and lets you go, once more hugging her middle. 

Her fly shows through her open jacket, the top split, buttonless, the denim wet and stained. She turns and hobbles away, thighs daintily kept apart as she takes stunted steps. You follow her as she turns down the next walkway, in the opposite direction of your dorm.

"Wait, I'm trying to help."

"Help? Too late for that."

"But–"

"Don't you get it? Help don't happen. What's that bullshit we gotta listen to at orientation? Be vigilant…"

You scrunch your nose as you scurry beside her. You recall that first day safety presentation. The one with all those statistics, the numbers that made you even more nervous to be away from home.

"But if you don't tell someone, nothing can be done–"

"Nothing would, you–" she stops herself and faces you as you stand at the edge of Elm Plaza, "I appreciate you trying but that's not how these things work." She exhales and shakes her head, "you'd be the only one who believes me. Or cares."

"N-no, that's not right–" 

"No, it's not," she shrugs, "that's life."

You watch her as she struggles to do up her coat. You wish she would listen to you. You're just trying to help her. You wish anyone would let you try. You'd be a great friend if anyone wanted you.

"Look, you should go. I'll be fine–"

A sudden whoop deafens you and had her snapping shut her mouth. She rolls her eyes as she drops her arms rigidly. She turns on her heel to face the curb as the cruiser pulls up. Your heart flutters, they can help you!

The passenger door opens and a familiar man steps out. Tall, slender, dark hair. Officer Russo.

"Ah, good evening, ladies," he shuts the door and leans casually against the car.

The driver side opens and another figure gets out. You recognise Castle too as he rounds the hood of the car, crossing his arms as he comes to stand parallel with his partner. His lips slant slightly as your eyes meet.

"You don't happen to know anything about that alarm, do ya?" Castle asks.

"Nothing," the girl replies, "we're going home. We didn't see anything.'

"Wait," you begin and she elbows you.

"You two on the prowl again? We're not interested so run along and find someone else."

"You know, Foxy," Russo tuts as he wags his finger at her, standing at his full height, "that mouth makes me wanna do things."

"And you make me wanna hurl, fuck off, officer."

"That's no way to talk to a police man doing his duty. Serving and protecting and all that," he rebukes.

"Me and my friend are going home. That's it," she lies, "now you can take your brute and bug someone else. We didn't do anything."

"I don't know if I believe you," Russo steps onto the curb, toe to toe with the girl. Foxy, he called her.

"Hey, shug," Castle nears you, "you know anything about that alarm? You can tell me."

You look at Foxy and she takes a breath, raising a brow as she shakes her head evasively. You should tell the truth. They could find who hurt her. Then again, you heard all the same things she did. Odds are, nothing will happen. It's her choice, not yours. And that's what friends do, they support each other's decisions. 

"No, we just went to the store for some snack," you lift your forgotten bag of goodies.

Russo snatches it and you gasp as the handles nearly tear. He looks inside and fishes out one of the tall cans. "This shit is bad for you," he reads the label, "you girls got an exciting night planned. Need lots of energy?"

"Oh, lots of it," Foxy's tone turns sarcastic as she sticks her tongue out but you notice how her fist balls tightly, "I told you, I got a type."

"Mm, sure do," Russo ogles you and shoves the bag against her chest, "you sure you don't want a few more guest for the party."

"Not you," she takes the bag but doesn't back down, "I'm not into weasels."

"What about your… friend?" He leers over at you.

"Billy," Castle hits his arm, "we got shit to do."

"I'm tryna get us something better to do," Russo growls.

"Ladies, have a good night," Castle tugs Russo back off the curb, "shug," he nods at you and as he dips the brim of his hat courteously, "be safe."

Foxy stands unmoving as the officers get back in the car, Russo watching her venomously as he slams his door. You sidle closer as a puff of exhaust clouds behind the cruiser. She turns to you and hands back the bag.

"Stay away from those two pigs," she says.

"Foxy? Is that your name?" You ignore her warning.

"Yeah," she stares after the car as it rolls down the road.

You give her your name as you wait for her to tear her gaze from the car. You weigh your wares, you have a few cans and got a party sized pack of chips. You could split the chocolate bar.

"Are we really friends?" You cringe at how dumb you sound. 

She blinks and finally turns to you, "huh?"

"You said I was your friend."

"Well, uh, sure, I guess…" she considers you and pokes her cheek with her tongue, "yeah, we can be friends."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I can always use more," she says breezily.

"Um, did you wanna… hang out? I got snacks."

She smiles, a small curve of her lips. Her throat tightens and she nods.

"Sure, I don't feel like being alone right now. You okay coming back to my place or… you live around here?"

"That way," you point back the way you came, "but uh, my dorm mates can be a bit… rowdy."

"Mine too but so can I," she says, "let's go to mine, that's fine."

She gestures you down the street and falls into a slow gait beside you. She puts her hands into her pockets and her teeth chatter, a fog escaping her lips. You walk in silence as your soles grinds across the salted sidewalk.

"Thanks," she mutters and clears her throat, "I know you meant well and I know I can be a bitch. So thank you for… not leaving me on the ground."

You want to ask her what happened. You want to ask if she's okay. You want to know more about her. Your first friend. You want to be able to undo whatever happened to her.

"Thank you," you say as you peek over at her, "for letting me be your friend."

📖

Your friend Foxy is cool. And strong. And she has so many friends.

You sit in the corner of her bed among a spread of open notebooks and your laptop. She sits at the top as her friend, Tweed, sits cross-legged against the wall and incessantly checks her phone.

Another girl, Flora sits on the floor with Muse, a colourful girl you admire for her dreamy words. The last, Cookie, brought a container of squares for the study session, though she doesn’t have any herself. There’s an odd sort of malaise over the group, though you’re elated for the company.

“Six is a lucky number,” Muse says as she looks up for her sketchbook, her sweater stained with charcoal.

“Is it?” Flora scoffs.

“Seven is overrated.”

“Right,” Flora crooks her lips and goes back to reading a thick volume. Her phone lights up, drawing a brief peek but she ignores it. They must all be so popular. So why then are you there?

“She’s a cynic, don’t listen to her,” Muse warns, “dry like all those boring books she reads.”

“Whatever,” Flora falls back and fan flops her legs over Muse’s lap, “you make a better cushion than a radio.”

Tweed holds her phone tight in her hands, ripping your attention from the playful row. She looks startled as Foxy watches her, her lip twitching. She leans over to whisper, “tell him to fuck off. His buddy too.”

You try to act like you don’t hear but Foxy catches your eye. She doesn’t call you out, instead sitting up and swiping Tweed’s phone.

“Fucking assholes,” she snarls, “Cookie, can I have another one of those magical chocolatey things?”

“Fox,” Tweed whispers, “he’ll be mad.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” she tucks the phone under her, “you’re with us right now. He can wait to— Oh, thanks, Cookie,” she stops herself and accepts a crumbly square. You can’t help but think it has something to do with the night you met but you don’t want to pry. You’re still the new one. Disposable.

“Can I try one?” You ask, finally plucking up the courage.

“Sure,” Cookie leans over to offer the container. She’s quiet like Tweed but she smiles at Muse when she talks. Their roommates, you think Foxy said so but you were too overwhelmed to listen.

“Fuckers,” Flora grumbles as she tosses her phone away, “men. All of them.”

You round your eyes. You wouldn’t know. You must be obvious as she glances at you and huffs.

“Consider yourself lucky if you haven’t found that out yet.”

There’s a hum of commiseration but nothing much said as the girls focus on their respective books, papers, and screens. You think about Officer Russo and his dark eyes, mysterious like and animal. But the other one, Castle, he seems nice. They just have bad luck. It’s the same tedious complaints you hear on those TV shows. All men are dogs.

“Yeah, I don’t… talk to many boys. Men.” You rub your neck, “to be honest, y’all are the first people around here not to tell me to go away.”

“Well everyone else are a bunch of assholes,” Foxy snorts.

“You said it,” Flora agrees.

“I think you’re nice,” Tweed offers.

“Thanks, you too,” you smile, “all of you.”

“Buncha weirdos you mean,” Flora chuckles, “yeah, we sure are.”

📖

“You don’t have to walk me home,” you tell Foxy, “really.”

“It’s not safe alone,” she insists as she wraps a scarf around her neck, the bluster of the winter blowing through the doors as she pushes through ahead of you, “we both know that.”

“But what about you?”

“I can handle myself,” she reaches in her pocket and edges out a shape, a canister. “one spray in the face and I’ll fuck the jerk up.”

“Oh, smart.”

“You should get some too. Buncha creeps hanging around here, you know?”

“Probably,” you agree quietly.

“No one thinks it’s gonna be them until it is. I really thought I could help Tweed–” she stops herself, shaking her head, “whatever, I couldn’t even help myself.”

You swallow, silent as your footsteps echo in the grim darkness of a moonless night.

“Did you… see anyone? A doctor?”

“I got tested,” she answers, “apparently, the guy was clean enough.”

Her acknowledgement makes your stomach sink. You knew what happened but her as good as saying it makes it so much more real. You don’t know how she’s still going.

“How–”

“Don’t ask me how,” she sighs, “I don’t know. You just keep on. Think about how you would bash his head in if you could, not about what he did.”

“I’m sorry it happened to you–”

“Don’t be. I put my nose where it didn’t belong, foot in my mouth. I got a habit of that.”

Outspoken, yes. Brave, bold, blunt. Everything you’re not. The same things you love about Foxy, she seems to hate herself for.

“You can’t blame yourself.”

“I do though.”

“I…” you almost apologise again but bite your tongue.

“Look, let’s talk about something else,” she peers around, “please.”

“Yeah, of course,” you rub your cold hands together as they tingle, “I got another test tomorrow. See if I can break my record of a fifty-four.”

“Already outdoing me,” she scoffs, “it’s a fucking joke. Picking A, B, or C isn’t gonna do shit all. What kinda experience is that?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I guess you’re right. It’s stupid–”

She stops short and you nearly tip over before she puts her arm out to save you. You follow her gaze across the street. A police cruiser, two men stood before it in the glare of blue and red. She grabs your wrist and pulls you sideways off the curb.

“Come on, I know a short cut,” she says.

“Wait–”

She hushes you as she pulls you across the road, only to step back abruptly and nearly knock you over. She gasp and grunts as he put your behind her.

“Jesus Christ,” she murmurs.

“Nice to see you again,” the deep voice rumbles and a flash comes behind you, a yellow circle of light encasing you.

“Fuck off,” Foxy squeezes your arm.

“Don’t worry, I see you got a witness with you this time,” the man says as you try to look around Foxy. 

“Something goin’ on?” A voice calls over as you turn to face the officers and their gleaming flashlight.

“Nothing, officers, just walking my friend home,” Foxy keeps her hand on you.

“You know, I didn’t peg you for such a good girl, Fox,” Russo says as he comes up next to Castle.

"Shut up. Would you do your job and get this guy to leave us alone?'

“Sup, Buck,” Russo ignores her as he greets the other man, “all done for the day?”

“Just about,” the stranger behind you answers, “you know how shit goes with girls. Say one thing wrong and they never let you live it down.”

“Lover’s quarrel,” Castle intones, “see a lot of those–”

“Whatever,” Foxy tugs on you but Castle catches your other arm, holding you in place.

“Not so fast, we’re still talking to you.”

“Sir,” you gulp as hesqueezes you tightly, “can you let me go?”

“Yeah, get your hands off her jackass.”

“Watch your mouth,” Russo steps up.

“You want me to shut her up,” the man, Buck or whatever, offers, “I got a trick or two for this one.”

“Oh ho, you like the fiesty ones, Barnes.”

“I got a way with ‘em.”

“What’s going on?” You tug on both your arms, “Foxy?”

“Let us go, you dummies,” she barks.

“Now, now, hold on, we can’t just let you two go off in the dark alone–”

“Oh shut up–”

“Watch your mouth!” Russo grabs Foxy by her chin and she clings to you tighter, “you’re about to find yourself in hot water.”

“Billy,” the third man says darkly, “let me take care of her… you and Frankie can have her friend.”

There’s a pause. You don’t understand it. What are they talking about?

“I just want to go home,” you whimper.

“We’ll take you home, shug, won’t we, Bill?” Castle says, “come on with us.”

“Foxy,” you squeal as he tries to pull you away from her.

“Fuck off!” She digs in her pocket and pulls out the canister, “fucking ratface–”

There’s a loud hiss and she screams as her arm is twisted around and she lets you go. You drops the mace and covers her eyes, shrieking in agony. You tug against Officer Castle as you try to latch on Foxy. The air stings in your eyes.

“Come here. baby,” The other man rips her out of your grasp, “why would you do something so stupid, huh? Let’s go wash those eyes out.”

“Get off–” She swings blindly and he pulls her off balance so she stumbles before scooping her up on his shoulder.

“Officers, if you hear any more trouble, I trust you’ll look the other way,” the man salutes as he strides away with Foxy beating on his back.

“Foxy!” You squeal and flail against the vice of Castle’s grip, “please, don’t let him take her–”

“You can’t get mixed up in these sorta things, mousey,” Russo grabs your reaching arm, “girls like her will only get you in trouble.” You’re hauled back to face them, “think she already has.” 

"Please," you whine, "I didn't– she didn't do anything."

"Shug, it's alright. We're the good guys. We're not gonna hurt you," Castle coaxes, "why don't you come get warmed up in the cruiser. We'll drive ya back to your place."

"I don't want to," you gulp and hear Foxy's voice fizzle, "Foxyyyy."

"God's sake, Frank, get her in the car," Russo snarls.

"She's scared, give her a moment–"

You throw your foot out and your toe bounces off Castle's shin as you spin and Russo swears. You get two steps before you're caught by your hood and wrenched back. You thrash and squirm as you stumble back, your coat slackening as a pair of arms wrap around your middle.

"Shug, I was being nice," Castle's deep timbre gristles.

"Why are you doing this?"

"It's not that bad, sweetie," Russo says as he drags you back. You writhe, boots scraping loudly on the salty ground, "just close your eyes and breathe."

"No, no, please–"

"We're just gonna take ya home," Castle says.

"Nnnnnnooo," you try to kick him again as he grabs your legs, lifting you off the ground. You wriggle between the men and whimper, "please. Help her! Help–"

A glove covers your mouth and muffles your voice. Your eyes sting as they carry you across the road and stop beside the cruiser, struggling to open the door as you squirm in their grasp. They twist you between them and angle you around, stuffing you into the back of the car. 

You cry out as you're flung roughly over the seat and the door slams behind you. You roll onto your knees and grab the handle, pulling fruitlessly as you push desperately. The officers get in the front and you throw yourself against the barrier.

"I didn't do anything–"

"You assaulted an officer," Castle growls, "my partner witnessed it himself."

"But I… didn't mean to. I'm scared–"

"Sweetie, you got nothing to be scared of yet."

Yet. Your vision goes fuzzy behind a sheen of tears.

"I'm sorry. But my friend–"

"Friend? Sluts like that don't have friends. They just do whatever gets them what they want."

"She's nice," you sniffle as you hook your fingers through the grating. You peek out the window as a streetlight reflects off the glass of the engineering building, "aren't you taking me home?"

Russo laughs and Castle elbows the barrier so you fall back with a yelp.

"Missed your chance there, shug," he sneers as his shoulders square against the seat and he looks at you in the rearview, "she's a cute one, ain't she, Bill?"

"She'll do," Russo agrees, "virgin, I'll put money on it."

Your heart stills, clenching painfully as you press yourself against the leather. They can't mean what you think. They're police. They can't do this.

"No, no, you're…"

"You're a bad girl," Russo snickers, "and it's our job to punish bad girls."

"Please," you quiver and fold your arms around yourself, "please, I… I'm not bad."

"No?" Castle says, "if you're a good girl, you'll have to prove it. Good girls listen."

Your eyes burn and spill over. You shake as you try to blot away the mess, barely able to breathe past the lump in your throat. Your heart drums loudly as your skin buzzes. This can't be real.

You remember what the girls said. They can't be right. They can't.

"Okay," you eke out, "what do I do?"

The men laugh but don't answer. The turn down the boulevard towards the gates and you slide over to the window. You peer out at the dark shapes hidden in the dreary night.

They drive and drive. You watch helpless from the cab, the inevitable, the inescapable growing closer and closer. They turn off into an empty lot, cracked tarmac framed with heaps of plowed snow, enclosed from the view of passing traffic. Your insides crawl as the engine rolls over and quiets.

"It's not too late," you croak as you hit the grate with your palms, "you can take me home. You don't have to do this–"

Russo unbuckles the seatbelt and reaches for his door, your pleas unheard. Castle catches his arm before he can get out.

"Where're you goin'?"

A scoff is the only answer he gets.

"I found her."

"So what?"

"You don't just get to call first go."

"Dibs," Russo tries to shake him off.

"Flip a coin," Castle grabs him by the collar.

"Ha," Russo leans and reaches in his jacket pocket, "that Maria is sure one lucky woman, hey? You're such a romantic, Frankie boy."

"Shut up."

Russo takes out a nickel and shows it to the other man. Frank snatches it and you collapse back against the seat. This isn't real. You pull your knees up and crawl across the leather, yanking on the handle as you hammer with your other fist.

"Call it," Castle demands.

"Tails."

He flicks the coin, the subtle metallic ting off his fingernail as it glimmers in the dark. He slaps his hand down as you drag a palm down the window. There's a low snort and a groan from the front.

"Heads," Castle proclaims, "and a whole five cents to boot."

Russo clucks and bends his arm against the door. Castle's belt recoils as he opens his side and steps out as the snow and gravel mulches under his boots. You back away and go to the other end of the seat, again pulling desperately at the plastic handle.

"You should be happy," Russo taunts as the door opens at your feet, "he's the nice one."

Large hands wrap around your ankles and pull you back. You whine and claw at the seat, fingers squeaking on the leather. Castle climbs between your legs, forcing a knee between them as his hands travel up to your thighs. You wiggle and slap behind you as you try to get him away.

“Come on, sugar, I don’t wanna hurt ya, calm down,” he grabs your shoulders and pushes your chest to the seat as he leans his weight on you. “Take a breath.”

“Please. Pl-please. Pleeaassssse,” you babble, “please, I don’t—”

“Ah, louder, baby,” Russo chimes, “god, I love it when they beg. ‘Oh, Frankie, please fuck me. I want your thick cock in my tight cunt.’”

You bat your lashes as tears stream out and you hiccup through the sobs. Your fingers curl into the seams of the seat as you’re pinned by the heavy man above you. He keeps a hand on your shoulder as his other walks down the back of your parka, pushing the bottom up slowly.

You heave and turn your face down as Russo’s shadow looms through the barrier. He’s watching, you know it. You reach up, dragging the tips of your nails down the door weakly. It’s over. You’re stuck, there’s no getting out of this. No one to save you, no one to stop them. They are the ones who are supposed to do that.

“That’s it,” Castle breathes, “just relax, sugar, just relax,” he spreads his hands over the back of your jeans, kneading you through the denim, “mmm, you like that?”

You shudder and let out a quaking sob. You clutch your hands tight and pull them down, burying your head beneath your arms. He follows the waist of your jeans around front as he leans over you, fumbling with the button as you shake in horror. He flicks it open and dips his hand down your pants, the zipper splitting as his intrusion.

He pokes his fingers along your cunt and rubs you through your cotton panties. His breath puffs beside your head, tickling your ear as hooks his arm around your neck. You swallow and suck in air, holding it in until you can’t. He continues to play with you through the fabric, the friction hot and painful.

“Sugar, it’s okay, I’ll treat ya nice,” he rasps, “remember how nice I am. Gave ya my coat.”

You choke on your terror and he hushes you. Your arms drape limps over the seat as his weight robs you of your strength. He lifts you slightly with the arm at your throat and slides his hand out of your pants. He flips you over suddenly, dropping you harshly on the seat as you shield yourself.

He pulls down the tab of your zipper, undoing your park as you lay rigid. He pushes apart the downy coat and cups your chest through your hoodie. He groans as he gropes you, bouncing your tits in your bra as the strap slips on your shoulder.

“You’re such a pretty girl,” he drawls, “so pretty.” 

His hands trail down your stomach and his rough fingertips tickle above your jeans. He lifts your legs and leans them against his torso as he kneels on the seat. He yanks the denim down your ass and guides it past your thighs. You whimper and twitch as he bears your skin to the cold air drifting in around him. He tugs down your panties in quick succession, rolling them down to tangle against your jeans.

He curls his arm around your legs, holding them snug against him as he feels down his crotch. He shifts and growls as he struggles to undo his belt. The jangle of the metal and leather freezes your blood. You turn your face away and gulp as you squeeze shut your eyes.

He touches you again, rubbing your cunt gruffly. You cry out and sink your nails into the leather. 

“I bet I’m right, Frank,” Russo sneers, “hey, sweetie, you ever been fucked before? I’m not gonna ask if you had a real man before cause we know the answer to that.”

“Bill,” Castle growls.

“Tell me, baby, is Frankie gonna stretch that tight hole for the first time?”

“Stop,” you croak, “stop. I can’t–”

“Dammit, Bill,” Castle shoves a finger against your entrance and you yelp.

“What? Don’t act like a saint, cause we both know you’re not. Come on, Frank, I want you to punish her. You always were good at that.”

You push your head back as Castle forces his finger into you, the thick digit burning you from the inside. He pulls in and out, in and out, until you're squirming and mewling, desperate for him to stop. He adds as second and you squeal. A third and you holler, stretched past your limit.

“Fuck, she is tight,” Castle whispers as he rocks his hand, “Bill, why don’t you have some fun with her mouth.”

“You gonna share already?” Russo hits the barrier in excitement, “hot damn, how can I turn that down?”

You flinch as the driver’s door swing open and snaps shut. The door above your head is pulled back and another set of knees settle on the seat. Frank lifts your ass off the leather as he drags his fingers out of you. He feels around and suddenly a warm, bulbous shapes is against your folds, flicking between them, from clit to entrance, and back again.

“Now, sweetie, I know how you girls think,” Russo tisks, and reaches to his belt, “so let’s keep those teeth to ourselves.”

He reveals a blank shape and a zap cracks from its metal teeth. You murmur and he chuckles as he opens his fly. You shut your eyes again but can’t block out the world closing in on you. The seat dips by your head and firm flesh touches your lips.

“Open up, sweetie,” he urges.

You seal your lips and large hand frames your chin. Castle squeezes until you gasp, “sugar, you be a good girl and listen.”

You open your mouth and it's filled at once. The prodding at the back of your throat has you arching your back and gagging. Castle retracts his hand as Russo wraps his long fingers around your neck and tilts his hips, urging deeper and deeper.

Castle continues his steady poking along your cunt, pressing to your entrance as he lets out a sandy snarl. Your walls clench as he enters you, just his tip as you fight his invasion. He presses his wide thumb to your clit and rolls it.

“Come on, sugar, get wet for me. It’ll be–” he jerks his hips, managing another inch, “easier.”

You choke as Russo shoves himself down your throat. Your hand flies up and bounces off his coat sleeve as he hovers the taser above you again and hits the button. The loud crackle startles you back to complacency.

Russo rocks slowly, fucking your mouth as he grips your neck tighter with each thrust. Castle dips into your cunt, gritting out a breath as his thumb swirls around your tender bud. He finally gets to his limit, a fullness swelling agonizingly in your pelvis. He hisses and slowly eases out to his tip.

“Come on, Frank, I’m gonna finish in her mouth by the time you get going,” Russo snickers.

“You’ll get your turn,” Castle huffs and bucks his hips. You gurgle around Russo and contort between them, “fuck, she’s worth the wait. Good thing I’ll get her nice and loose for you.”

“Mouth isn’t too bad,” Russo strokes your throat with his thumb as he feels his bulge inside, “fuck, I really had my doubts about this one but I’ll say it, I was wrong.”

“Fuck, she’s good,” Frank plays with your clit as you tremble and moan, ashamed at the brewing heat in your core, “aw, baby, don’t cry, ain’t that good? I feel ya gettin’ wet. Yeah, that’s good.”

You sniffle and gulp, Frank’s other hand delving beneath your hoodie and slipping up to your chest once more. He kneads you as he speeds up, your bones thrum and your muscles wind tight. The horror erupts and overflows as you succumb to it, senseless and battered between them.

Foxy tried to warn you. The others too. You should’ve listened. 

#frank castle #dark frank castle #dark!frank castle #frank castle x reader #billy russo #dark billy russo #dark!billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #mcu #marvel #au #campus au

[spontaneousglitterbees]

#genuinely i didnt do this on purpose i was just very tired when i went to draw yesterday and did pose practice instead of new comic #but then i see franz kafka trending this morning and i remembered this hellsite has the most arbitrary holidays i love it #dr draws #danganronpa #dr #ndrv3 #drv3 #kokichi ouma #ouma kokichi #kokichi oma #oma kokichi #glittersart #TAPP AU #if you want it doesnt have to be #but i am working on an ask about how everyone is holding up post-sim #mostly in writing if thats alright bc im not positive yet how to draw out the story i want to tell #and therein is a small headcanon that kokichi kinda. for several reasons has a bit more intense a time than most of his classmates #and sometimes he Needs to sleep at arbitrary times during the school day. if he wont do it voluntarily he'll just kinda faint- #- which is especially frustrating for him because the lack of control and his inherent distrust of most people fuel his paranoia- #- and over time he designates a couple of Probably Secure places around campus that he can sleep if his dorm is too far. #ive started setting it up (itll take a lot of drawing to explain it all) but one of them is the animal shed #i do want to try actively to write about Students Who Aren't Kokichi but this all did start bc im kinda fixated atm #actually i think kokichi has been in all of the comics so far. like at least appeared #which will probably continue to be true as kokichis brand of pranking #('i put a kick-me sign on kaitos back and when saihara sees it theyll have an excuse to talk. all according to plan.')-caliber #is a nice device to crash characters into eachother like bumper cars

[bunnieswithknives]

Where do lesley and roy exist in the two of us au? does david just like, keep them in his basement or something?

The House itself looks basically the same, but if you mean like, where the house is, then it's a non-euclidian space that he just sorta shoved into his closet

#dhmis #don't hug me i'm scared #two of us AU #two of us!David #two of us!Red #the staircase leads directly into the piano room #I think that Roy has probably gotten out at least once lol though he doesn't remember it now #thinking about David catching wind of a '''weird doll''' wondering around campus and freaking the hell out #it is not a secure set up lol

[emeraldenha]

➳ SUMMARY. notorious for fulfilling your daydreams with whatever cute boy your eyes manage to land on, you stumble across one of your friend’s twitter mutuals, Kim Sunoo, and everyone expects you to be over him within a few days and onto the next. though what happens when a crush of yours reciprocates interest?

➳ PAIRING. crush!sunoo x fem!reader

➳ GENRE. mini series, college au, fluff

➳ WARNINGS. cursing, another appearance of unhinged side character sunghoon, ignore timestamps

➳ STATUS. completed

➳ ADDITIONAL NOTE. shoutout to my lovely 🧃anon for inspiring the idea for this au with this ask <3

send in an ask or comment to be added to the taglist!

DAY 1: “another unattainable man”

DAY 2: “y/n malfunctioning era”

DAY 3: “reflecting”

DAY 4: “park sunghoon is not a stalker”

DAY 4.5: “we need to conspire”

DAY 5: “am i the drama”

DAY 6: “mastermind”

DAY 7: “the curse has been broken” [written]

BONUS 1: “first date: successful!”

BONUS 2: “jealousy is a disease”

#campus crush (of the week) #enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen smau #enhypen social media au #enhypen sunoo #sunoo enhypen #kim sunoo #sunoo x reader #sunoo x you #sunoo au #sunoo smau #sunoo social media au

[royaltea000]

I dunno I just think that as members of the chief’s family they’d get slightly nicer furs and fabrics  ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

#httyd fanart #httyd books #httyd au #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #snotface snotlout #snotlout jorgenson #how to train your dragon #sketching around again in the campus Starbucks -w- #my art #digital art #dont look at the boots I was really lazy