#the boiler is on all the time to heat water

[tenrose]

Just turned on the heating for the first time of the season... Already seeing money running away through the window 🙃

[arolesbianism]

Shaking and crying as I finally start working on some more long term oxygen production systems as if it's much more complicated than building a room with like 5 buildings inside all of which you can unlock without even building an advanced science station

[reasonsforhope]

"Heat stored underground in caverns can be set aside in Finland’s summer months to be re-used during frigid winters thanks to a state-of-the-art ‘seasonal energy’ storage facility.

Slated for construction this summer near Helsinki, it will be the largest in the world by all standards and contain enough thermal energy to heat a medium-sized city all winter.

Thermal exchange heating systems, like those built underground, or domestic heat pumps, are seen as the most effective way available of reducing the climate-impact of home heating and cooling.

Their function relies on natural forces or energy recycling to cool down or heat up water and then using it to radiate hot or cold energy into a dwelling.

In Vantaa, Finland’s fourth largest city neighboring the capital of Helsinki, the ambitious Varanto seasonal energy storage project plans to store cheap and environmental friendly waste heat from datacenters, cooling processes, and waste-to-energy assets in underground caverns where it can be used to heat buildings via the district heating network whenever it is needed.

In Finland and other Nordic countries, the heat consumption varies significantly between seasons. Heat consumption in the summertime is only about one-tenth of the peak load consumption during the cold winter months.

Varanto will utilize underground caverns equal in space to two Maddison Square Gardens—over a million cubic meters—filled with water heated by this waste heat and pressure that will allow the water to reach temperatures of up to 300 degrees Fahrenheit without the water boiling or evaporating.

“The world is undergoing a huge energy transition. Wind and solar power have become vital technologies in the transition from fossil fuels to clean energy,” says Vantaa Energy CEO Jukka Toivonen.

“The biggest challenge of the energy transition so far has been the inability to store these intermittent forms of energy for later use. Unfortunately, small-scale storage solutions, such as batteries or accumulators, are not sufficient; large, industrial-scale storage solutions are needed. Varanto is an excellent example of this, and we are happy to set an example for the rest of the world.” ...

“Two 60-MW electric boilers will be built in conjunction with Varanto,” adds Toivonen. “These boilers will be used to produce heat from renewable electricity when electricity is abundant and cheap. Our heat-producing system will work like a hybrid car: alternating between electricity and other forms of production, depending on what is most advantageous and efficient at the time.”

... Construction of the storage facility’s entrance is expected to start in summer 2024, while it could be operational as early as 2028."

-via Good News Network, April 12, 2024. Video via VantaanEnergia, March 10, 2024

[fandsart]

Steve whose parents are scrooge level extreme capitalists who don't believe that children should be allowed to "freeload" off their parents.

Steve whose dad pushes him into sports to eventually make something of himself and earn what little he is provided with.

Steve whose mom makes Steve maintain the house while they're away instead of hiring a housekeeper.

Steve whose parents are scrooge level extreme capitalists who pinch pennies even when they have so much money already.

Steve whose dad who doesn't pay for heating and cooling if he's away for long enough.

Steve who sometimes won't have access to warm water for months at a time.

Steve whose mom gives limited allowances for food, but is the level of rich that she's never really checked for prices herself and so underestimates how much things cost.

Steve who himself must pinch his pennies.

Steve whose parents are obsessed with appearances.

Steve whose mom who is sends clothes every now and then. The most stiff and respectable items on the market.

Steve who can't afford to waste money on clothes he actually wants because of his limited budget.

Steve whose dad sends a house inspector at least once a month if he's away for longer than a full one to make sure Steve has in fact been keeping up on it.

Steve who sometimes has to waste some of his precious money on cleaning supplies for the house.

Steve back in high school sitting there like ;-; while Eddie goes on a tabletop rant about how rich boy Steve could never understand what it's like to race in the shower with the water boiler to finish before the heat runs out, or what it's like to regularly skip meals to save money for clothes that are both actually comfortable and stylistically preferable.

Steve who took a cold shower that morning, and is now wearing the itchiest and ugliest thing left in his wardrobe because he needs to buy detergent which is why he skipped lunch that day ;-;

Steve whose always been teased for his big-ass house and his pool and these luxuries that surround him that he honestly has very few positive experiences with. Steve not realizing until that very moment that he, himself, is not actually all that financially stable at all.

Steve having an existential crisis in the middle of the day in the Hawkins High cafeteria

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week. #5

Feb 9-16 2024

The Department of Education released the first draft for a wide ranging student loan forgiveness plan. After Biden's first attempt at student debt forgiveness was struck down at the Supreme Court in 2023, this new plan is an attempt to replace it with something that will hold up in court. The plan hopes to forgive debt for anyone facing "financial hardship" which has been as broadly defined as possible. Another part of the plan hopes to eliminate $10-20,000 in interest from all student loans, as well as a wide ranging public Information push to inform people of other forgiveness programs they qualify for but don't know about.

The House passed 1.2 Billion Dollars to combat human trafficking, including $175 million in housing assistance to human trafficking victims

The Department of Transportation announced $970 Million for improvements at 114 airports across 44 states and 3 territories. They include $40 million to O'Hare International in Chicago to improve passenger experience by reconfiguring TSA and baggage claims, and installing ADA compliant bathrooms(!). The loans will also go to connecting airports to mass transit, boosted sustainability, installing solar and wind power, and expanding service to under served committees around the country.

Medicare & Medicaid released new guidelines to allow people to pay out of pocket prescription drug coats in monthly installments rather than as a lump sum. This together with capping the price of certain drugs and penalties for drug companies that rise prices over inflation is expected to save the public millions on drug coasts and assure people don't pass on a prescription because they can't pay upfront

The EPA announced its adding 150 more communities to its Closing America's Wastewater Access Gap Community Initiative. 2.2 Million Americans do not have basic running water and indoor plumbing. Broken and unreliable wastewater infrastructure exposed many of those to dangerous raw sewage. These Americans live primarily in poor and rural communities, many predominantly Black communities in the south as well as those on tribal lands. The program is aiming to close the wastewater gap and insure all Americans have access to reliable clear water.

The White House announced deferred action for Palestinians in the US. This means any Palestinian living in the United States, no mater their legal status, can not be deported for any reason for the next 18 months.

The Department of Energy announced $60 million in investment into clean geothermal energy. The plan will hopefully lead to a 90% decrease in the coasts of geothermal. DOE estimates hold that geothermal might be able to power the hopes of 65 million Americans by 2050 making it a key step in the Biden administration plan for a carbon-free grid by 2035 and net-zero emissions by 2050.

The EPA launched $83 million to help improve air quality monitoring across America. With updated equipment local agencies will be better able to report on air quality, give more localized reports of bad air quality and the country will be better equipped to start mitigating the problem

The Department of Energy announced $63 million in investments in domestic heat-pump manufacturing. Studies have shown that heat-pumps reduce green house gases by 50% over the most efficient condensing gas boilers, as technology improves this could rise to 75% by 2030. Heat pump water heaters meanwhile are 2 to 3 times as energy efficient as conventional electric water heaters.

HHS awarded $5.1 million to organizations working with LGBTQI+ Youth and their Families. The programs focus on preventing homelessness, fighting depression and suicide, drug use and HIV prevention and treatment, as well as  family counseling and support interventions tailored for LGBTQI+ families.

The House passed two bills in support of the oppressed Uyghur minority in China. The "No Dollars To Uyghur Forced Labor" Act would prohibit the US government from spending any money on projects that source materials from Xinjiang. The Uyghur Policy Act would create a permanent post at the State Department to coordinate policy on Uyghur Issues, much like the special ambassador on antisemitism.

[celestialprincesse]

I absolutely LOVE your writing! But i know you want ideas for Simon fluff and lately I’ve been thinking about how Simon would react if I got new nail kit set and I use his hands as practice

He definitely tries to avoid this scenario at all costs. Like literally does not understand why you'd want to do your own nails when he can literally pay for you to get them done at the fancy nail salon in town, the one which provides lemon and cucumber water for all its clients and doesn't charge extra for art or charms because the sets themselves are so extortionate. This is the same Simon who refuses to call someone in to get the boiler fixed because he knows he can do it himself (and with a little help from YouTube)

The thought of you with sharp objects and chemicals also raises concern. He's heard quite enough horror stories from Johnny about binding agents and whatnot. Absolutely zero chance he's letting you experiment with that stuff without the appropriate PPE.

Eventually, he gives a little and reluctantly orders a beginners gel nail set, but the minute the clear gel (which he let you put on ONE finger to make sure it's safe) heat spikes under the nail lamp, he calls time and BEGS for you to just let a professional do it.

[smashing-teacups]

Atonement Chapter 44: A Sticky Situation

A/N: We havena done this in a very long time… 🥹

Happy five year anniversary to this not-so-wee tale of mine. Thank you so much to all who have come along for the journey. I appreciate you more than you know!

For better or for worse, they decided to move in straight away. 

It was in large part a financial decision. After months of working overtime, Claire had a decent sum tucked away in her checking account, but an indefinite hotel stay was a drain on their savings that they simply couldn’t justify, given the option to stay in the mill for free. As soon as that much was decided, the pair of them had locked into what Claire called triage mode, trying to sort out what they would need to purchase imminently if they were actually going to attempt to live in a half-functional construction zone. Foremost in both of their minds was the pressing issue of heat: Claire insisted that she was fine with just setting up camp near the hearth, and was busy Googling the nearest places to buy firewood in bulk. Unconvinced that the fireplace alone would be sufficient for his painfully thin and perpetually freezing wife, Jamie had pulled up the page for the local hardware store on his own mobile, sifting through the reviews on various portable space heaters that they could position strategically around the house.

After a few minutes, Claire’s musing broke the silence of their individual research. “I suppose if we don’t have a heat source then we don’t have hot water.” As he glanced up from his screen, she made an odd wee movement, squinting one eye as she shifted her hips off to one side and back again. “What are we going to do about showers?” 

Pocketing his mobile, he crossed his arms loosely over his front. “Aye, I was just thinkin’ on that myself. The plumbing’s already in, just need to finish gettin’ the boiler system up and running. Shouldna take me more’n a week or two, but”—There it was again, the microscopic spasm of Claire’s cheek, this time as her thighs clenched together—“in the meantime, I reckon we can use the showers over at the gym. It’s no’ but ten minutes down the road.”

“Sounds good,” she said mildly, though the tightness around her eyes didn’t slacken. Jamie regarded her for a long moment, frowning with the effort to pin down the source of her unease. If she wasn’t comfortable showering at the gym, he was sure one of their neighbors would be more than happy to let them use theirs…

Before the offer could even make its way to his lips, though, Claire shifted again, and something about the way she moved the third time — the subtle, swiveling twitch of her pelvis, the grit of her teeth — struck him as familiar where the other motions had eluded him. He knew all too well the squirming discomfort of having an itch in a place that couldn’t be scratched in decent company.

But that was just it: he wasn’t company, he was her husband. There wasn’t an inch of her body that he hadn’t tasted or touched; Christ, he’d been buried to the hilt inside her not half an hour ag—

… oh.

Ohhhh.

Quite abruptly, he struck recognition like a brick wall.

Keep reading...

[balkanradfem]

The story of a broken christmas toilet

So the first thing that happened to me on the christmas morning, is I went to the bathroom, and toilet didn't work - no water. Weirded out by this, I opened up the water tank, and the water poured in as soon as I messed with the floatie. I thought this fixed it, only to realize minutes later, that the toilet is now leaking water.

I've never fixed the toilet before, especially not a leaking one, opening up the tank and peering inside was the height of my knowledge. But, I was ready to figure it out. I tried to mess with the parts that were leaking and make them tighter, only to immediately make it leak worse. Panicked, I quickly found the valve that shuts down the water in the bathroom. Now the toilet doesn't leak, but I also can't use the shower or the basin.

Looking at more youtube videos, I concluded that the valve that lets water into the tank, has loosened and broken inside, and there was no fixing it, I'd have to buy a spare part. But as it was christmas, all stores were closed, and would be closed for tomorrow as well.

I had some wrenches I acquired while fixing my own bike, and none of them were big enough to dismantle the tank, but comparing the size, I could tell which sizes I did need. I would ask a friend if she could lend me the right tools, but as my friend wouldn't be visiting for a few days, I had to make do with a non-functional bathroom.

Luckily I love the old methods of washing - using a sponge to bubble up and then pouring heated water from a jug to rinse, that is a very gentle way to experience warm water. I would sometimes wash that way just to not have to use the boiler - because it's a great energy saver.

Anyway, my friend brought the tools to me, and I set on to dismantle the tank. She stood outside the bathroom saying 'I don't know anything about toilets', too intimidated to join in. But I wasn't having it, I called her in to look because, armed with my youtube knowledge, I recognized the broken part, and now knew for sure what I had to replace.

That afternoon, I headed to a hardware store, and since it way my first time there, I asked an employee if he could get me that exact part - I had the original with me. He told me they were 'all the same' and handed me the cheapest one. I pointed out it was important for the brass part to be the same width - and he said it was.

So I bought it, and upon installing it in my toilet, the toilet was now leaking from the outside, where the new part was fixed into the wall pipe. I got confused, dismantled it and put it back together a few times, but nothing worked, it only leaked worse each and every time. Devastated, I went to check how others were doing it, and if I maybe lost a part, or forgot to do something, or had to play with the pressure more, or maybe my arms weren't strong enough. But every other person was fastening it in the exact same way, I wasn't doing anything wrong.

I dismantled the thing again, and compared the new and the original part. The metal part that goes into the wall pipe seemed the same width, and I had to stare really long to notice, but there was the tiniest, millimeter difference in how big the waves in it were. Pissed, I went back to the store, to ask the employee if they had any correct replacement parts, and he had absolutely no idea, so I asked him to unpack multiple ones until I found the exact same size I was looking for. I had to go through the lengthy and annoying process of exchanging the part, but once I got home, I put it together in 20 seconds.

And it worked. My toilet works again. I can now fix toilets. Self-assigned plumber.

I had to do a lot of following my instincts and believing that I can notice what is wrong, and when someone who is supposed to be more expert than me, is giving me false info. Most of this was just about confidence! It is absolutely no-brainer to fasten one pipe to the other if they're the correct size, any kid could do it if shown even once.

If I can do this, even without prior knowledge or tools, with other people giving me negative amounts of help, then anyone can! Any house-repair we usually think m*n can do, are just putting puzzles together, created to be simple and intuitive, and we are very well equipped for it, all it takes is confidence and curiosity in how it works.

[mytheoristavenue]

GOTG Rocket x Reader 🍋 - Heatwaves

Summary: Long from home, the ship's air conditioner breaks, resulting in hallucination-inducing heat. Your obvious crush on Rocket doesn't make things any better.

Warnings: Inspired by a series of TMNT fics I did a while back, sexual innuendo, dirty talk, degradation, praise, illness from excessive heat, daydreaming/hallucinating, suggestive situations, sexual tension, judgment impaired by arousal, fem!reader, non specified species!reader, humanoid/anthro!reader, takes place between vol. 2 and infinity war

You were so dizzy, melting into the sofa, sprawled out with no regard for anyone else's comfort. Your head rested against Mantis's leg, while your legs invaded Drax's bubble, not that he minded. His people didn't really understand the concepts of personal space anyhow. You were all in this boat though, Gamora splayed out on the floor as it was the coolest surface in the ship. With this heat, all there was to do to bear it was strip down to the littlest clothing possible before becoming indecent and napping to make the time pass quicker.

"C'mon, you guys, cheer up," Peter forced a cheerful tone from the cockpit. "Rocket said he should be finished with the repairs on the AC tomorrow."

"Thank God," you groaned, pinching the fabric of your tanktop to unstick it from your chest. "I can't take this shit anymore."

"Yeah, I'm so sweaty, it feels like I showered in my clothes." Mantis agreed from above you, doing the same and wiggling all over to have her shirt sit right.

"But you didn't," Drax gave her a lead-poisoned stare. "I have been watching you for hours and you haven't moved, let alone gone to shower." The empath's head very slowly turned towards him, her glare and pursed lips screaming that she was done with his nonsense.

"Ya know," the captain called again. "If you're hot, just think how Rocket feels. It's probably way hotter down there in the boiler, plus he's covered in fur."

"I am Groot." The sapling said, raising his head off Gamora's chest as she nodded, agreeing with him.

"I don't care that fur is like insulation, if you're hot, he's hot. And I don't see any of you trying to help him, so stop whining." Peter's light reprimand, admittedly had pulled on your heartstrings a bit. It was awfully nice of Rocket to fix the AC all by himself, even if he was the only one with the know-how to do it.

"He's right," you sighed, begrudgingly tearing yourself off the sofa, your exposed skin having stuck to it. Finally separated from the mound of leather and flesh, you stumbled over to the kitchenette and threw open the fridge before grabbing a few bottles of water. "Rocket might need some help, I'll go check on him."

-----

You had never been in this part of the ship before, slinking through halls and around protruding pipes and fixtures. It was much hotter down here, closer to the water heating systems. You had to halt for a moment, pressing your hand to the wall for stability as you hunched a bit. If you were already feeling faint, you couldn't imagine how Rocket was feeling. For all you knew, he could have passed out and nobody would have known.

Suddenly you began to make out a distant, distorted racket that echoed and reverberated against every surface. It sounded almost...melodic? Following as it became louder, it led you to a warm light that streamed out from beyond a closed door. You halted for a moment, now being able to separate the noise, which you now recognized as a voice, singing lazily. Rocket never sang in front of people and you almost felt perverted as you listened to his rendition of Silver's 'Wham Bam Shang-A-Lang'. "Now that it's said and we both understand," he softly crooned, voice carrying to far reaches. "Let's say our goodbyes before it gets out of hand."

Inhaling sharply, you finally found it in you to grip the door handle and let yourself in. Orange light flooded out of the small room and the music became as clear as it was going to get, loud enough to conceal the sound of the door opening. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

Everyone had always been able to tell you were sweet on Rocket, and you'd never done much to hide the fact but seeing him now, bathed in marigold neon, laid flat on his back up underneath a large fixture...shirtless- it was too much for you. His fur was slicked against his chest from sweat and his jumpsuit was tied loosely on his hips, revealing much more of him than you ever could have been prepared to see. Adding to that his admittedly lovely, gruff singing voice, the scene was a recipe for an upset tummy.

Deciding you couldn't handle this, you silently tried to back out of the room, eyes trained on him like a deer in headlights. You may have gotten away with it, had one of the water bottles not fallen from the crook of your elbow, alerting him to your presence. Instantly, he rolled out from under the machine, set down his tools, and sat up, staring at you. "(Y/N), what are you doing down here?"

Now that you could see his face, you were in even worse shape. The white stripes on his cheeks were smeared with grease, whiskers crumpled, and fur unkempt. He looked incredibly rugged- more so than usual. "Hello? Knowwhere to (Y/N)?" he croaked again and waved a hand in front of him, voice hoarse from unrestricted use. "You okay?"

At last, you shook out of your trance, flustered to hell and back, and eagerly swooped down to grab the bottle. "Y-Yeah, I'm great! You're just really hot!" Rocket stared at you for a second, waiting for you to correct yourself before owning the compliment and mocking you for it. Obviously, you didn't take the hint, so that was his cue.

"Well thanks, dollface," he smirked, standing up and sauntering over to the doorway, taking the dropped bottle from you before popping off the cap and chugging it. About halfway through, he stopped with a deep, relieved sigh. "I always thought I was pretty hot but it's still nice to hear it from someone else." That's when your stomach dropped, realizing what you'd said. Time to backtrack.

"Oh my God, no!" you gasped, once again dropping what you were holding to slap your hands to your face. "I don't think you're hot!" Rocket looked at you quizzically, hand on hip. "I-I mean I do think you're attractive, b-but not in a weird way! More like a friend way!"

"Uh-huh," he teased, crossing his arms and leaning on the doorframe. "Friend attraction's the best kind, ya know? And don't sweat it, Quill says I'm hot all the time."

"Rocket, please..." you finally gave in, physically crumbling. "I meant like- you're probably getting hot down here and I wanted to bring you something to drink."

"I know, dollface, I'm just yankin' your chain." he laughed, pushing off the wall and walking back farther into the room to sit on a bucket. "I needed a break anyway, thanks princess."

"Princess...?"

"What?"

"N-Nothing!" You finally let out a sigh of relief, following a bit closer and sitting on the floor. "So how's it coming?" you asked, uncapping your own bottle after passing him the last one.

"Well, I've identified the problem, but I don't got the right parts to fix it. Good news is, I think I was able to work up a temporary replacement that should at least get us back to Knowwhere. I know if we can just get home, I can get a brand new part for cheap-" You weren't sure when, but at some point, you'd stopped listening, mind and eyes wandering.

" Ah, fuck, (Y/N), easy! Yeah, j-just like that, keep movin' just like that for me princess..."

"Are you even listening?" Rocket's annoyed tone brought you out of your daydream. You must have zoned out without realizing it, how embarrassing. "Jeez, you're hopeless, ya know that?" He chided, standing up and grabbing a rag to wipe his hands on.

"Sorry..." you slumped shamefully before trailing him as he got back into position. "H-Hey, is there anything I can do to help you out?"

"Hmm," he paused, laying back down on the creeper, ready to roll back under the unit. "I guess you can keep me company, hand me tools," he proposed, disappearing under the machine. Suddenly his voice dropped an octave, words echoed against metallic surfaces that made you freeze. "I know my girl is very good with my tools."

You squeaked at his sudden turn in demeanor, falling on your behind and scrambling away from him. "W-What?!"

Rocket rolled back out, propping up on an elbow, eyeing you with concern. "What, what'd I say?" he asked frantically. "What's up with you?"

"Y-You said-" you stammered, not even comfortable with repeating what you heard. "Y-You said...I'm g-good with your tools!"

He looked at you like you were the biggest moron he'd ever met. "Well, yeah?" he chastised. "You help me in my shop all the time, so I know you know which ones are which. You're good at knowing which ones to hand me." Your chest heaved as he once again returned to his position, reaching his hand out. His small fingers curled, a sign for you to hand something over. "Gimme that ratchet." Quickly, you placed it in his hand, before clicking open the socket set.

"What size socket?"

"Twelve millimeter." He answered, settling the tool on his stomach to use both hands for whatever he was doing. Scanning the set, you plucked out the shallow twelve millimeter piece and set it on his chest, waiting for him to grab it. He did and growled in dismay, giving it back.

"No, princess," he corrected, gasping through clenched teeth. "Need it deep."

"You...w-what?" you carefully asked, feeling incredibly dizzy and unable to discern truth from hallucination.

"I need the deep twelve millimeter, not the shallow one." Rocket scolded, giving a frustrated sigh as he listened to you scramble for the correct piece, profusely apologizing all the while. Finally, you found the right one, presenting it to him just in time for him to roll out from under the fixture again. "Okay, dollface," he titled his head, worried. "What's your deal?"

"Deal? There's no deal!" you played dumb, laughing nervously, hoping he'd just drop it. "I'm fine, really!"

You went rigid, watching him silently creep closer to you, unsure if this was real or not. Finally, he placed a paw against your cheek and whispered in close: "You're burnin' up, baby."

"Rocket, I don't feel good." you stated abruptly. "I-I think something's wrong with me."

"I'll say," he cooed, dragging his knuckles down the side of your face. "How about you let me change that, hmm?" The world around you began to blur, and all you could make out were his words. You understood that his hands were on you, but you couldn't say where; you couldn't feel it, you couldn't even see clearly. "Yeah, baby just lay down, lemme do all the work." He soothed seductively. "Let daddy take care of you, 'kay, (Y/N)?"

That last word, it was your name, right? He kept repeating it, like a broken record, and suddenly all the gruffness left his voice. You listened as intently as you could, hearing it morph from lustful to monotone, and then increasingly more worried- desperate even. "(Y/N)!" There it was again.

Slowly, as his voice became more clear, the cloudiness in your vision dissipated and your senses began to return. Your cheek burned against hot metal, and you could feel patting on your face. A figure hovered over you, close enough to breathe on you. "Goddamnit, (Y/N), wake up!"

"R-Rocket...?" you stuttered, recognizing the figure. "What's going on...?"

"Nevermind that," he hushed. "Lay back down," Suddenly, he turned away from you, yelling out the door, presumably to the oncoming footsteps stampeding down the hall. "In here!" Your eyelids began to get heavy as the world began to fall away again. The last thing you remember was being lifted into the air by a second, hulking figure, then nothing.

-----

You awoke in your bunk, arctic air breezing by your face. What had happened, how did you get here? Where was Rocket? Your fingers twitched, sore from lack of use and the tips of them caught the sensation of something foreign. Multiple fibers connected to one source, soft in mass but wirey when you singled one out. Letting your hand travel up the organism, you froze, realizing you'd answered one of your questions. Glancing down, you found Rocket, curled in a ball at your side. That was odd, you did share a room, but Rocket never slept in your bunk.

Your movements must have roused him as he stirred under your touch, slowly unfurling himself and stretching out. "You're up," he noted, smiling a bit. "You'll be happy to know the AC is fixed."

Now that you took notice of it, the room was cooler, cold even. "Wow," you yawned, smiling back sleepily. "How long was I out for?"

"About eight hours," he copied, yawning as a reaction to seeing you do the same. You halted a moment, confused.

"Wait, I thought you said it'd take you another day to fix it?" you rubbed sleep from your eye waiting for his explaination.

"Nothin' an all nighter couldn't fix." He laughed exhaustedly, curling back up into your side. You'd usually question his sudden cuddliness, but it made your bed that much cozier. "Honestly, your little heatstroke..." his voice softened a bit. "It scared me a little. I was worried about ya."

"Heatstroke..." you repeated. "That makes so much sense," At least now you had an explanation for all those hallucinations from earlier. Though you were glad to be well again, Rocket's attention was nice, even if it was all in your head. "That explains me hearing and seeing things that weren't there down in the boiler. Sorry for acting so weird.." you confessed sheepishly.

"Don't be sorry," he chuckled cockily, eyes peacefully resting. "We'll definitely be having a lengthy, private conversation about all that after I catch up on some sleep." Your stomach dropped at that, imagining all the terrible outcomes that could result from said conversation. "And for the record, dollface, I do think you're very good at handling my tools, ya know," he smirked, nuzzling your ear. "When you follow directions."

Your stomach did flips as your head began to feel heavy again. "I-I must still be hallucinating...I swear I just heard you say-"

"Did I fuckin' stutter?"

[tired-biscuit]

Grow Fonder

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: kiba inuzuka/fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 18+ mdni // age gap (10+ years), teacher/student relationship, power dynamic, mention of explicit pictures, oral (m!receiving), fingering, creampie, slightly dominant reader, slightly awkward professor!kiba. reader is a senju, cos i couldn't bother with y/l/n. modern/college AU.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 18.4k+

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: this one was a challenge to write, not gonna lie. whoever reads this entire monster of a fic, i'm sending you a big kiss and a hug, 'cause you're a real one fr. <3

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: After sending an accidental email containing your nude to your zoology professor, interesting things commence.

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

YOU’RE tired.

There are plenty of reasons as to why. It’s late. You’ve studied all night. The clock that’s situated across the old refrigerator currently ticks a little over half past eleven, annoyingly reminding you that it’d be a wise decision to head to bed and get some much needed rest before your morning classes start. 

The sink you now linger by has finally been emptied of the dirty dishes that had been piling up over the course of the week. Unlike yourself, both of your roommates had been smart enough to finish their chores early and part just as quickly. Already soundly asleep; the doors that lead to their respectful bedrooms are closed shut.

You aren’t surprised, really. It’s a perfect night for snoozing, after all – cold and quiet. As you stand in the little kitchenette of your modest student apartment, dressed in your warmest pajamas and fuzzy socks, there isn’t a sound to be heard besides the mellow pitter-patter of rain that occasionally makes the window to your left rattle.

The sound calms you, but your mind still continues to whir as you open the tap and wait for the water to reach room temperature. Much like the ancient boiler that takes ages to start working, your kitchen is just as busted and could definitely use some renovating. 

Perhaps you could gather a couple of your friends and throw a splash of colour on the walls with their help, maybe add some indoor plants that you could place on the windowsills? Now that you’ve finally finished and submitted the assignment to your dumb zoology professor, you could do it over the weekend, buy a bottle of wine or two, and–

Wait.

Did you send the assignment…?

You’re nearly finished with filling up your water bottle when it dawns upon you, the acknowledgement sharp as ice. Blinking whilst still standing next to the sink, you watch as the cool liquid begins to overflow the rim of the bottle, dousing both of your hands with cold water that never even got the chance to heat up. 

Your face twists at the unpleasant sensation.

It must be a mistake. Has to be. 

Right?

Staring at the tap you’ve just turned off, anxiety begins to creep in. You must be wrong – you’re sure of it, no, you’re positive – and yet slow, albeit steady panic still continues to crawl inside your brain like an icky spider. With every passing second you spend inside the kitchen you’re barely paying rent for, looking like some stupid standing emoji, the cloud of doubt looming above your head grows bigger and bigger.

You definitely remember seeing that file amongst the mess of documents on your computer whilst you’d been typing the email. And that’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with that, but now you’re stuck wondering if your stupid, idiotic self actually managed to… send it somehow?

In mere seconds, your water bottle is sent flying into the sink as you sprint back towards your bedroom with quick-paced footsteps; all of them executed in absolute haste. You haven’t even run a long distance, and your breaths are already shaky by the time you reach your desk, teeth chewing on the fresh manicure that you've saved up for as you practically yank open your laptop and tap the browser with eyes as wide open as a frightful fawn’s. 

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” Impatience seeps out of you now. Your pupils turn big as saucers as you take the moment to just scan the page that finally opens up after the computer comes back to life. 

Palms turn clammy as you begin to click around. Dread is blooming and increasing inside your chest, pulsating inside of you in a beat like that of a warrior drum. Even your fingers are trembling above the used touchpad in the same quivery way your upper lip does now. Every breath you suck into your lungs is becoming increasingly painful.

Finally landing onto the thing you’ve been searching for like some fucking maniac – special thanks to your shitty apartment’s equally as shitty Internet connection – you check and skim through the email you’ve sent out just a couple of minutes ago. 

[You] Thursday, 11:27 PM

Dear Professor Inuzuka,

I’m terribly sorry for reaching out this late, however I’ve finally finished fixing all of the mistakes in my assignment that you were so kind to point out. Attached below is the document containing the final version. 

Again, I apologize for all the inconvenience I might have caused with my tardiness. Hopefully this email finds you well.

Kind regards,

y/n Senju

So far so good, right? As your eyes scan the text, you attempt to ignore the way your heart continues to thunder inside your chest. Besides the dryness, there’s nothing off with the message itself, it seems.

And that is indeed true; there really isn’t anything wrong with the message. The problem hides in the assignment you’ve sent – or the lack thereof.

So you open the file that is attached below your rather snippy email. And cringe at the image that pops up. Ignoring the sweat that trickles down your neck, you close the damn thing so swiftly that the screen threatens to lag, and repeat it all over again. And again. Just to be sure and to suffer some more while you’re at it.

There’s no doubt about it now. Stomach clenching in pure horror, nausea overcomes you as you see yourself on the screen – body almost completely nude – instead of the paper you’ve just spent hours working on like a lunatic.

Congratulations! Being the braindead girl that you are when you’re tired, you’ve just succeeded in sending your nude to the worst person imaginable, if you exclude your parents. Your fucking nude – sent to your fucking zoology professor, who you borderline despise because of how mean he can get during lessons.

Great.

Speaking of mean, you’re surprised you aren’t dead already because of it. Whenever you look at the screen and see his name, the world begins to spin. You actually feel physically ill. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip in an attempt of biting down a miserable sob and stabilizing yourself, you’re beginning to tremble in your cheap desk chair that had come along with the dorm’s furniture.

I mean, what the fuck are you supposed to do now? Yell at your professor in all caps lock to not open the email? Block him? Never show your face on campus again? Move across the state and start a new life under the pseudonym of your favourite fictional character?

Now that you think about it, he’d probably like that. Considering how the first semester is going so far, getting you out of his class is probably his number one priority. He’s always had it in for you for absolutely no reason – not any reason that you know of, anyway. You’d just be doing him a favour at this point.

But pushing all of that to the side, you’re still panicking. Staring at the screen through blurry vision because of the quickly-upcoming tears that are threatening to spill any moment now, you’re just about ready to bawl your eyes out. To tear your hair out. To take yourself out. 

Ping!

The sound makes you nearly jump out of your skin. Dread overcomes you all over again as your phone flashes the notification of a new email that shows up a second before your laptop comes in sync with the device, and updates the list of unopened messages in your browser. 

It seems that Mr. Inuzuka doesn’t intend to give you enough time to do any of the, ‘getting rid of this situation, and consequently yourself’ schemes you were planning on executing, because right now, his response is waiting for you to click open in bold font.

Your stomach is still twisting; pressing even harder on your rising nausea. The lump that’s formed inside your throat is so big that it’s impossible to swallow as you take a deep breath and – click!

As is expected, his reply is snippy, but nonetheless mortifying.

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:39 PM

Miss Senju,

I think you might have sent me the wrong file by mistake.

While I do feel flattered by your attempt (?) at bringing light to the nuisance that is your overdo assignment, I am not quite sure if it’d be proper for your email to find me as well as you’d hoped for.

If you can, send the proper document as soon as you’re able.

Sincerely,

Kiba

Jesus almighty on a fucking cross, he’s seen it. All cute and glistening underneath the nearly see-through damp patch of your lace thongs; your bitter professor has seen your all the more sweet pussy in 4K. Bent over and yearning to be filled. At this point, you might as well begin your search for a gravestone, because you’re just about ready to dig yourself a hole and simply die in it.

But instead of doing that, you read the message again.

Flattered, he tells you. What a fucking prick, of course he’s chosen to fuck with your already crumbling sanity just for the fun of it. 

Zoning out whilst staring at the email, you can nearly taste the sarcasm dripping off of the letters in that taunting sort of way he prefers using with you every chance he gets. If you try hard enough, you can even hear him in your head – oddly enough, it fails to make you sick.

Flattered.

You should feel repulsed by the word and the way it’s used, you know that, and yet all you feel coursing your veins… is piping hot thrill.

Because whether you like it or not, whenever Mr. Inuzuka zeroes in on you during lessons, you cannot keep yourself from perking up like you’re his dog – or his bitch, so to speak. He walks over and looks down at you with those sharp, brown eyes, and fuck, it feels like a gift of sorts. One with your name on it, specifically. Pretty bow on it and everything, even though he’s fucking mean as hell.

Truth be told, you don’t just dislike it; you hate it. Hate him because of the way he chooses to treat you. 

Or do you? 

Yes, he makes you answer the silliest, most complex of questions for reasons unknown all the time, but have you ever asked yourself why he does it? Maybe him pestering you, not being fair just like the world isn’t fair, constantly drilling you to strive for higher goals and getting better grades could actually be considered… a good thing?

Because let’s be honest, professors rarely give a crap, don’t they? More often than not, their salaries just aren't high enough for them to actually care about their students and waste any more time on them than what is absolutely necessary. But Mr. Inuzuka… He clearly cares about you in his own weird, overbearingly strict way, right?

After all, when you nearly get every single one of his questions wrong  – of course you do, you’re nothing but a ditzy girl that’s constantly daydreaming about things that have nothing to do with his lessons, apparently – it makes him smile. It’s this conceited grin that shows off his pretty teeth, and that makes his face radiant. A complete change of character.

And as if that wasn’t enough already, he likes to rest both of his palms on your desk then. With no ring in sight and with eyes as dark as ever whilst they search your own, he tells you to apply yourself. Low and serious, despite the smile, which you yearn to slap off of his pretty face as soon as it appears. He looks at you almost like he pities you in a way. 

Some small, docile part of you wishes he did.

You just can’t help yourself. Because even at those times, it isn’t anger that brings your very blood to a simmer as you stare at that wretched grin that adorns his lips. No, it’s pure infatuation, no matter how harshly he drags you down with it. Right there; in front of the entire class, as well as all the super popular girls you’re low-key terrified of, with all their sneering and whispering going around.

However, all of that you can endure – to a reasonable degree, of course. Trouble starts whenever Mr. Inuzuka decides that just smiling at your incompetence simply isn’t enough. When the time comes that he chooses to kick it up a notch for whatever reason and he bullies you some more. As he leans back in his chair, leisurely crossing one ankle over the other like he owns absolutely no care in the world, and chides ever-so-sweetly, “Wrong again, Miss Senju. Like I’ve suggested before, maybe you should apply yourself if you wish to see better results.”

And yet he’s telling you he’s fucking flattered, now?!

Confusion fogging your mind, your fingers are sweat-riddled to the point of slipping off the goddamn keys as you begin to type your reply, paying no heed whatsoever at keeping the email as formal as you had done with the one before it.

[You] Thursday, 11:42 PM

mr. inuzuka, i am SO, SO, SO SORRY!!!! ik i’ve sent the wrong file, i am absolutely mortified that you had to see that. please forgive me, i swear it was an honest mistake!!!!! i really am so sorry

i’ll send the right one right away, don’t report me to the faculty or something. please please pLEASE i’m so close to graduating, oh god

Not even two full minutes later, another reply chimes in.

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:44 PM

Reporting you would be utter nonsense. 

Besides, you’re an adult, are you not? 

A flash of anger rushes through you at his choice of wording, however you somehow succeed in stifling it as you type the short reply with utmost aggression. Who does he think he is, talking to you like that? You’re about to die from embarrassment, and here he is: being snarky at your expense.

[You] Thursday, 11:45 PM

yes, sir. i am indeed a functioning adult

Only semi-satisfied with your rather snippy reply, you secretly hope that he can distinguish the sarcasm amongst the intimidation that lingers in-between. Even if you’re in absolutely no position to be commanding the situation, you can at least try to touch the reins that he holds in his hands, right?

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:45 PM

Good. Please act like one, then. 

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:45 PM

If it’s not too hard of a task for you, of course. :-)

Fucker. It seems that he indeed can recognize sarcasm over text. You’d roll your eyes at the stupid emoji if you weren’t so jittery. He’s already getting on your nerves from how flustered and stressed he makes you over goddamn email.

[You] Thursday, 11:46 PM

with all due respect, professor…….. it’s pretty hard for me to remain calm and act like a ‘functioning adult’ after the picture i’ve just sent you

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:47 PM

Why so upset? It's not even that bad of a picture.

Another email immediately follows after the first one.

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:48 PM

What I meant was that you shouldn’t feel embarrassed at all by the little mishap.

Of course. You haven’t even been given the chance to ask for an explanation and he’s already giving it to you.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you fail to suppress the flush of heat that blooms on your face as you reread the two messages. Telling you that your nude isn’t bad; Mr. Inuzuka cannot possibly be serious. But now that you already have him here… 

You could ask? 

Your fingers linger over the keys for a moment as you stare at the screen. It surely wouldn’t hurt. You’ve already dug a hole deep enough, what’s another inch?

Right?

[You] Thursday, 11:50 PM

am i supposed to be saying thank you for the ever so kind semi-compliment?

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:53 PM

Maybe I should be the one saying thank you instead?

Holy shit. His suddenly lewd answer sends a heatwave rushing through your chest. It aims straight down to your stomach, your very core; warms it up real nice. Are you actually reading this right?

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:54 PM

fuckk i can’t believe i actually sent that 

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:55 PM

i’m sorry, that was terribly uncalled for. i don’t know what got into me, but i’ve had a bit to drink

Your heart hurts from how fast it’s beating now as you watch his nice and tidy spelling deteriorate with every extra email he sends you. Palms turn clammy again and digits fidgety in a way like they do during pesky finals week. The stress has gotten so bad that you even have to take a minute just to breathe, and breathe, and breathe. 

In and out, the intensity you’re using to suck air into your aching lungs makes you feel light-headed by the time you begin to type your response.

[You] Thursday, 11:58 PM

it’s okay... we’ve both made mistakes tonight.

Ping! He answers nearly in an instant.

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:59 PM

might make more if we keep talking… i should go.

He should go, it’s true. And yet the thought of ending the conversation saddens you all of a sudden. You’re not ready to let him go just yet, are you? 

Christ, what is with you? Are you that sleep-deprived that you’re willing to mess with your professor just for the fun of it?

[You] Thursday, 11:59 PM

oh…. are you sure?

It seems so.

It feels like eons are passing as you wait for Mr. Inuzuka to finish brooding and weighing his options miles away. Sitting in silence, with your face illuminated by the screen of your laptop, you can’t believe yourself. I mean, truly, what on earth has gotten into you? You’re flirting with your professor at midnight, asking him to keep chatting with you as if he’s your classmate instead of your teacher. 

It all makes you start biting your nails again; skin pulling taught with nervosity. By the time his reply finally arrives, you’ve almost ruined the pretty manicure.

[K.I.] Friday, 12:03 AM

well… would you like me to stay?

Your pulse quickens. He wants to talk to you, it’s obvious, he’s just too big of a coward to admit it. Silly man. But it’s not like you’re going to outright admit that you wish to chat with him some more, too.

[You] Friday, 12:04 AM

well, you’re actually bearable now... so i guess i can talk to you a bit more if i really have to haha?

[K.I.] Friday, 12:06 AM

you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to, sweetheart. i can always go grade your assignment if you’d prefer that, just send it to me :-)

Now that makes you tingle all over, if you ignore the jab. Makes you pull your knees all the way up to your chest so that you can press your forehead against them and stifle the squeal that’s bubbling up your throat and threatening to slip past your lips, forming a risk to wake your roommates. He’s such a smartass; so insufferable, and you’re so in love with his wit and crude charm.

And you're also lucky that he can’t see you right now. That he can’t guess how much the pet name actually fazes you just because it comes from a man like him. Even the corners of your lips are twitching from the smile that keeps insisting to form as you type.

[You] Friday, 12:06 AM

no, no!!! talking to you is just fine

[K.I.] Friday, 12:07 AM

yeah? even if i use these bad boys? :-) :-) :-)

[You] Friday, 12:07 AM

sure… 

[K.I.] Friday, 12:08 AM

continuously? :-) :-)

[You] Friday, 12:08 AM

mhm

[K.I.] Friday, 12:09 AM

damn. you must really like me then, hm? ;-)

Heat crawls up your neck as you read the message one, two; three times. His little emojis are so stupid that they’re almost endearing in a way. It turns you soft – pliant like a naive teacher’s pet. You have to physically shake your head to snap out of it.

[You] Friday, 12:11 AM

i’ll like you even more if you give me a good grade on my assignment

There, that’s better. You’ve even attached the right document this time.

[K.I.] Friday, 12:12 AM

haha. do you think you deserve it?

[You] Friday, 12:13 AM

enduring your emojis like the tough bitch i am, i think i deserve the world

[K.I.] Friday, 12:14 AM

:-(  are they really that bad?

[You] Friday, 12:14 AM

i just think the lil nose makes them weird

[K.I.] Friday, 12:15 AM

well, i for one am rather fond of my nose. flatters my side profile

[You] Friday, 12:16 AM

sure, but your pretty side profile isn’t enough to convince me into liking your silly emojis, sir

Too far?

[K.I.] Friday, 12:20 AM

pretty, huh?

Seems not.

[You] Friday, 12:21 AM

that wasn’t the point and you know it

[K.I.] Friday, 12:22 AM

aha, right right. i’m sorry, sweetheart

[You] Friday, 12:23 AM

gosh, i’m surprised your head doesn’t float away with an ego that big

[K.I.] Friday, 12:25 AM

probably because i’m lucky enough to have another big thing that grounds me just as good

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. How did you get here so fast? 

Oh, right… The nude.

[You] Friday, 12:25 AM

yeah? and what exactly is this big thing of yours?

[K.I.] Friday, 12:27 AM

my brain

[You] Friday, 12:28 AM

oh wow

Oh, wow really.

[K.I.] Friday, 12:29 AM

what? did you think i was going to say something else?

[You] Friday, 12:29 AM

no, of course not!! i was just surprised you actually have a brain

[K.I.] Friday, 12:30 AM

sure you were :-)

[You] Friday, 12:31 AM

ughhhhhh……….. here you are, forcing me to see those stupid emojis again

[K.I.] Friday, 12:32 AM

B) look here’s one without a nose! lil guy has sunglasses on hehe

[You] Friday, 12:34 AM

sir, please….. this is silly. even for a millennial like u

[K.I.] Friday, 12:37 AM

well, how about you give me your number so i can call you then? that way you won’t have to see ‘em?? :-)

A smile ghosts over your lips as you read the message, pulse erratic. It’s surprising how smooth he is; circling around you so slowly that it doesn’t even feel rushed. Making you comfortable, stripping you layer by layer before going in for the kill.

Perhaps he actually does have a brain, after all.

—

Kiba can barely keep his eyes open when he arrives to work the next morning.

The poor man is still half asleep and is tired to the point it’s becoming too exhausting to even stand straight. He can feel the tightness in his shoulders when he rolls them in an attempt to release some tension that’s been building up over the course of a restless night, however the seams that hold his button up together make him halt midway as soon as they begin to protest to the sudden flex in his biceps.

He loosens a sigh. Just had to doll up, didn’t he?

It had been a mistake; looking handsome for someone who he definitely shouldn’t be trying to impress. The conversation you had with him over the phone last night hadn’t exactly crossed any boundaries, but it did leave him feeling somewhat thoughtful and lonely. 

After you had said goodnight with what he guessed was a smile on your face, he had started to feel empty inside. The line disconnected and all of a sudden he was alone with his thoughts; contemplating his life choices. Surely, he wouldn’t be having any reason to talk to you – his student – until three in the morning if he had a wife? 

Kiba had never married, after all. No, he’s all alone; still vigorous and full of life as he had been in his twenties, and is completely left to his own devices exactly like he had been during that time, too. He picks and chooses only what’s best for him. Concerns himself only with his own interests. Only thinks about himself. Some may call it a life without a sense of purpose, but he likes it just fine.

Never having kids to hold him back, he’s now slowly inching towards his mid-thirties by being the fun uncle instead of a dad. More and more of his friends are building families and settling down, and he’s just… drifting.

So, can he even be blamed for trying to woo his pretty student after seeing her equally as cute cunt? 

You’re young and soft, he wants to touch you all over. Is just thinking about letting off some steam, it’s not like it’d be anything serious. Only a quick roll around the sheets; a single night of greed you’ve certainly been hinting at over the phone, too. After all, you’ll graduate real soon and forget all about him. Will marry and have kids just like nearly every other person he knows is doing right now. So, what’s the problem?

Well, he could lose his job for starters. And you’re nearly a whole decade younger than him. He holds tremendous power over you with the position he possesses. It’d be frowned upon if anybody found out. It’s super risky. The faculty could expel you for it. His mother would beat his ass. Had he mentioned that he could very well lose his job?

But that picture… goddamn. 

He even has it saved on his phone.

Speaking of the picture, to say that he was shocked when he had opened the file the first time would have been an understatement. He had closed the thing so fast that he felt like a panicked teenager again: hearing his mother slip the keys into the front door whilst he was still looking at porn on the family computer. Pure stress.

But after a couple of quick-paced breaths, all of which had been so heavy they nearly fogged the blank screen of his computer, Kiba’s fingers found the mouse again. He’d moved the cursor slowly; cautiously. Clicked the file once more. Stared. Felt his eyelids turn heavy and his grey sweatpants strain by the time he had clicked the reply button and started typing.

Maybe he shouldn’t have drunk those two beers. Not that he was by any means drunk from them, but perhaps it would have stopped him from responding to your email the way he did. Would have stopped his hand from ever reaching the waistband of his sweats and slipping under. Would have halted all the stroking and grunting to follow right afterwards. Would have stifled the need, and wiped away the sticky mess he had spilled all over his hand and stomach by the time he had decided to start flirting with you and convince you into giving him your number because he just couldn’t get enough – not even after cumming.

Post-nut clarity, my ass.

Guilt seeps into Kiba’s chest, filling it with something gooey and disgusting as the thought of what he did crosses his mind for the hundredth time ever since yesterday; forcing him to drop his gaze in shame with a brow furrowed so tight, there’s a small ‘v’ etched right in-between. 

God-fucking-damn. It feels like everyone knows he’s jerked it to his student and came all over himself like some pathetic loser, because – by some odd miracle – a picture of her pretty pussy had somehow made its way onto his computer screen.

This is bad. So bad, in fact, that he even feels the need to place a hand over his heart, pretending that he’s whisking away imaginary dust from his fancy shirt instead of trying to tame the sudden jump in his accelerating pulse.

But speaking of the shirt, the light blue button up he’s yanked from the hanger this morning compliments his burly physique and hugs the broad span of his shoulders so tight that it’s no wonder the seams are threatening to tear. The pants he’s picked are in a colour of soft beige he usually never wears and doesn’t even remember buying. 

The combination he picked is good, but is also unlike him to pick it in the first place. He’s at least rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows as a meek attempt to feel more like himself, but it doesn’t ease the discomfort, just like the fact he’s wearing his favourite pair of shoes doesn’t.

All right, perhaps it’s not all that bad. Looking down at his outfit, the young professor has to admit he actually looks pretty decent for a change. Even a couple of his co-workers that linger in the halls flatter him as he starts heading towards the teachers’ lounge, twirling his keys around his index finger in an attempt to seem unbothered. 

Sure, the small praises are probably given only because the leather jacket he usually opts to wear is nowhere in sight, but Kiba still supposes that he understands it to some extent. He actually looks like a teacher for once instead of a burly biker. 

Still, his hair remains as wild as ever, no matter how nicely he dresses himself. The chestnut spikes stick in various directions, but are slightly droopy from his failed attempts to smooth them down. He looks like he’s been tossing and turning amongst the sheets all night instead of sleeping in them. And to be fair, he did just that… amongst other things. 

But never mind that! Besides the hair situation, Kiba also lacks a tie; the top two buttons where it should reside, already undone. He had tried putting it on, he promises that he did, but the damn thing just chokes him to oblivion and makes him want to flick it in the trash instead of tying it into a tidy knot around his neck.

Well, at least he’s tried to look presentable if anything else. Him being – sort of, kind of – dressed up to code should practically be celebrated at this point.

And yet, the reason as to why he’s done it creeps back into his mind and makes him spiral all over again. He hasn’t even reached the lounge yet and his feet are already dragging down the hall that’s filled with students whose names he can’t even recall most of the time; mind clouded with a thunderstorm so big you’d be able to see lightning flashing behind his eyes if you looked closely enough. 

Luckily for him, nobody does. He turns some heads from college girls he’s never spared a glance for; invokes a quicker heartbeat in the new substitute teacher he thinks is called Hinata H-something, but that’s it. Some of the young adults that surround him are just too busy still being half-asleep much like himself to notice their zoology professor passing by, whilst the other, more upbeat and social half is buzzing with chatter consisting of upcoming plans on how they’re going to spend their weekend. 

The fog in his head clears for the briefest second at that. 

Oh, right. It’s Friday.

He knows that he should feel chipper about the upcoming weekend, but for some reason he doesn’t. Deep down, Kiba knows it’s because he won’t see you until Tuesday, but he won’t admit that, of course. Won’t admit that he’s already formed some sort of twisted attachment to you like the sick fuck he is. Jesus, he seriously needs to get his shit together. You’re like, what, twenty? Twenty-two? He isn’t old enough to be your dad, but ten years is still… a lot.

His train of thought is broken when he bumps into somebody.

“Oops, I’m so sorry–” a voice starts.

Oh, lord.

There’s a brief beat of silence that makes blood rush into Kiba’s ears as his eyes connect with your own and he feels his pupils dilate to the point of ache from how fast they overtake his chocolate brown irises. Even his stomach twists uncomfortably at the tingling sensation your hand leaves behind when it grazes his arm in a rather foolish attempt to keep yourself steady. It makes his skin heat up underneath all the layers of clothing he’s got on, and fuck; it feels so good.

God, now that you're so close, he can tell that you smell absolutely divine. He has no clue what perfume it is that you’re wearing, he’s never really been a fan of them, really, but this one specifically makes his nostrils flare and his jaw turn slack as he turns so fucking desperate that he tries inhaling the scent through his mouth.

What an idiot. Keep yourself together, moron!

“It’s, uh, it’s fine! I’m fine.” He takes a small step back when he sees your lips begin to curl into a smile in response to the stupid expression that’s still lingering on his face. He’s wary; cautious – you’re in public and he’s your teacher. “No biggie.”  

You stare up at him, eyebrow quirking in pure puzzlement. He’s just so red now; face blooming a bashful crimson as he literally has to fight against his instincts to not stare at you for too long. He can’t stop the colour from tinting into an even deeper shade, it’s almost pathetic. And fuck, the change of tone you equip now only makes him blush even further as you say, “Well, good morning to you, too, professor.”

What the fuck? Weren’t you supposed to be the bashful one, considering that he’s your teacher and that you were the one that had sent him the picture by mistake?

The twirling of the keys Kiba holds in his hand has long since come to an abrupt stop as he swings them into his palm and holds on tight. Never mind all the pressure, he’ll sort this out like the big boy he is. He’s handled worse than cute lil’ you. 

Well, probably. He’s not so sure about that anymore, to be honest.

“Yeah, uh…” Wow. Some big boy he is; right off the start Kiba’s grip remains so tenacious that it turns his knuckles stark white, similar to those of a common coward. And as if that wasn’t bad enough already, he even has to clear his throat before he mutters back a meek, “G’mornin’.”

“Slept well?” you ask, making sure you’re quiet just enough that nobody else can hear you. The last thing you want is to scare him off.

And despite your caution, his gaze still immediately falls to the floor that had been scrubbed clean by the janitor just the previous night. “Not really,” Kiba answers, rubbing the back of his neck. The sleeve of his sky-blue shirt strains around his bicep with the action, making your eyes linger on the muscle that’s rippling underneath the cotton. God, he’s built so big and strong. So dreamy.

“Hmm?” Batting your eyelashes, you pretend to be coy just because of the flex alone. “How so, Sir?”

He swallows hard at the title; his Adam’s apple bobbing. The way he’s scratching the back of his head is so unnerving. “Well…”

“Not to be nosy, or anything,” you say, and before he can even start another sentence, you intrude with a grin, “but I can’t help but wonder what exactly was the thing that had kept you awake at night?”

Why, you little minx.

Your head tilts to the side at the timid nature he portrays all of a sudden. He’s jittery as hell, even more so when you step onto the tips of your toes to observe him even more closely. By the time you run your eyes along the sharp line of his jaw and skip over the freckles dusting the bridge of his nose, he’s feeling nauseous just from how fast his heartbeat has gotten behind that broad ribcage of his. Even a thin film of sweat covers his forehead now, making his tan skin slightly glisten under the fluorescent lights of the school.

You’re just dressed so cute, it’s no wonder he’s sweating. A short skirt that’s just up to code from how high it reaches above your knees, and a pretty blouse tucked right into it; the buttons properly done all the way up unlike his own. Looking so nice and tidy, he just wants to ruin you entirely. Especially because he now knows what’s hiding underneath the pretty skirt that you insist on flaunting around him.

Yes, he actually knows. The blood that’s previously been turning his ears hot, rushes straight below Kiba’s belt at the realization. 

And so, all of the arrogance is gone in mere seconds; the subtle disdain that he usually offers you whenever you step foot inside his classroom, nowhere to be seen now. Standing in their place are nothing but nervousness and fidgety fingers – to which you secretly offer just the tiniest fraction of your attention towards for reasons you’ll never admit to a living soul besides him – perhaps.

However, nervous or not, Mr. Inuzuka still manages to move before you can get another word in, or better yet: lean into him even further. He steps to the side in one fluid movement, causing space between you whilst giving the keys in his hand a single, nerve-wracking spin again. 

The sound of the jingle makes you want to chuckle, but you resist the temptation as you fix your bag onto your shoulder and plant your heels back onto the ground.

“Cat got your tongue, Sir?” The smile you offer makes him want to teach you a lesson. A proper one.

“See you in class,” he disregards your witty comment instead, gaze already flicking onto just about anything but you. He clears his throat again, the hand that had just been rubbing his neck, running through his chestnut hair now. Goodness, the unruly spikes look so fluffy to the touch, you wanna twirl one right around your finger. Especially as his voice softens and he says, “Try not to be late for once, yeah?”

Your smile comes off as more of a smirk than anything else, even though he can’t see it because he’s already headed towards the door leading to the place you’re not allowed to enter; is practically scurrying down the hall like a petrified little puppy despite being so fucking big. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Inuzuka.” 

Oh, fuck you, Kiba thinks as he dismisses you with a flick of the wrist. 

But goddammit, in the span of a just mere couple of seconds, he slows down as the distance between you increases. Turns his head back. As if an invisible rope is tugging him right back to you, he looks over his shoulder; looks at you. And there you are. 

Looking right back. 

—

“Kiba,” Mr. Aburame acknowledges his colleague with a subtle jerk of his chin the moment he frantically steps foot inside the teachers’ lounge. “Good morn-”

“Yeah, mornin’,” the man in question cuts in, absent-mindedly walking right past Shino as if he were a mere ghost. He doesn’t even spare him a glance, much less his signature grin. No, with his expression oddly troubled, Kiba just makes a beeline leading straight towards the coffee machine in the corner of the room, turning his back towards him in the process. 

The action could be considered rather rude – perhaps even insulting to some – however, it’s the way he looks so utterly zoned out whilst doing it that tells the entomology professor all he needs to know.

The impoliteness hadn’t been intentional at all. 

And that sparks Mr. Aburame’s attention almost immediately.

After all, Shino knows Kiba like the back of his own hand – perhaps even better than that. If the years spent working in the same building, co-existing as colleagues and later on as friends, have taught him anything, it’s that the menace that’s currently standing in the opposite corner of the room – stepping from one foot to another and looking fidgety as fuck – is quite literally his polar opposite. 

Immensely introverted and silent to a point he sometimes comes across as eerie to certain people, Shino Aburame is a man who tends to keep to himself. While Kiba thrives on chaos and mayhem, he, on the other hand, prefers logic and order.

And whilst we’re on the topic of logic, there is none whatsoever when it comes to finding an explanation for how such two different people manage to get along, nor for how exactly the dynamic proceeds to work. It’s just how things function around here; how they’ve always functioned when it comes to them.

Still, Shino remains pleased about the fact that it works, no matter that it’s unexplained and that he oftentimes comes off as aloof and uncaring when compared to his boisterous opposite. Actually, he finds it just fine. But now that the harmony has been disrupted, he finds himself feeling obligated to sort it out. So he crosses one ankle over the other and asks, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” the brunet replies with a gesture that resembles a tired wave of his hand. His response is almost automatic. It’s like he blurts it out by default as he adds, “Jus’ dandy.”

Shino quirks a brow whilst he watches him mess around with the coffee machine. The thing is brand new and still requires some learning. “You’re sure?”

Luckily for Kiba, he keeps his face hidden as he rummages through the cupboard for his mug. “Yup,” he mumbles, popping the ‘p’. Child.

“Well, all right… It’s just that you seem to be slightly off, that is all.” And that’s worry. Concern for his friend, hidden underneath a clear statement that nobody had asked for. 

The cupboard closes with a soft click. There’s a small pause before the friend in question sighs. “I’m just tired, man.”

“Because?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah,” the other professor mumbles in reply. That certainly could explain his inability to focus. But on the other hand… he seemed completely fine until stumbling into one of his students. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, now would it? “Anyway, I saw you with that Senju girl earlier... Out in the hallway.”

Thump, thump, thump. Fuck, Kiba’s heart starts to hurt immediately at that. He should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy when it comes to Shino fucking Aburame. Where the fuck had he been hiding anyway? Did he hear anything? See something?

“Yeah? Ya did?” The way the mug almost slips out of his hand at the mention of you could almost be considered comical. Kiba’s jaw clenches, making the cords in his neck turn stiff and protrude against his tan skin as he grips the handle so hard his knuckles turn white from the sudden pressure. 

He swallows audibly whilst placing it under the machine. The sound of him swallowing his own spit is the only thing that can be heard besides the brewing noises to follow soon afterwards he presses the button. It’s so quiet; just him and the stupid Megamind in the room. Kiba’s arrived early for once, after all. Nobody feels the need to be here yet. “Is that what her last name is, then?”

“Yep,” is all Shino offers, popping the ‘p’ just like he had done earlier. Kiba can’t quite tell if the action is meant to mock or to comfort him.

“Well, uh,” the poor man takes a breather, rubbing the back of his neck with one twitchy palm. “You know me… Can't even remember a student’s face, much less an entire name, hah. Especially a last name like that… ‘Senju.’ Silly last name, don’t ya think?”

“Is that so?” Shino angles his head in almost a nonchalant manner, tuning in on his sudden babbling and overexplaining. “Because it seemed to me like you knew her rather well?”

Silence. And then: beep! 

Coffee’s done, Mr. Inuzuka!

Kiba jumps at the sound, looking like he might just bounce right out of his skin. He clears his throat whilst grabbing his mug almost urgently now; as if in relief that he gets to do something with his hands, even though the ceramic mug is probably going to burn the skin right off of his fingers. 

“Well, I don’t,” he says finally, eyes insisting on steering clear from the only other person in the room. He sucks in a sharp breath through pursed lips as he sets down the mug onto the counter and shakes his hands to get rid of the heat searing his palms. “Don’t know her all that well, I-I mean.” Jesus, has the room always been this hot?

“Really? You’re sure?” Mr. Aburame repeats and blinks at the loud thud that comes from the drawer as his colleague pushes it with way too much fervour right after grabbing the teaspoon.

“Yes, Shino. I don’t know her.” Fed up. Kiba mixes the sugar into his coffee with too much force, making a couple of droplets spill over the rim and onto the counter. Not bothering to clean up the little mess properly, he just swipes his hand across it.

But his stiff posture and refusal to say more don’t stop the entomology professor from prodding further, “Well, what did you talk about for so long, then? If you don’t know her like you say you don’t, of course?”

Mr. Inuzuka shrugs. “Nothing much.”

And Mr. Aburame pushes. “Try and enlighten me, please.”

“Christ.” He scrubs a tired hand across his face; two fingers rubbing circles into his left temple as if it hurts just to think. “She just said good morning, all right? Damn… What are you breathin’ down my neck for, all of a sudden?”

“Just good morning, huh? That’s interesting.” Shino doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he doesn’t believe him. Ignoring the question, he seems utterly unconvinced.

“Why are you acting so weird about this?”

“Why? Because you’re acting weird.”

Kiba groans at the stare he feels burning into his back, but otherwise remains silent; tossing the spoon into the little dishwasher they had all pitched in for the previous year. For once in his life, he doesn’t wish to talk and elaborate any further.

And that makes the other professor hum as he feigns light amusement, even though it’s much deeper than that. Much more nerve-nibbling. 

Seconds pass and nothing but thick silence settles between the two men. Not being able to endure it any longer, there’s an agitated, “What?” that’s voiced from Kiba right before the exasperated exhale joins it soon after. Before Shino can even answer, there is yet another, “What is it, dude? Spit it out.”

“Oh, nothing,” Mr. Aburame says, shrugging him off with a wave of his hand. His voice is light as a feather, despite the depth. “It just seemed to me that the girl had a lot more to say to you than you’re willing to tell me… Other than ‘good morning’, that is. But I could be wrong, of course.” He had even put the air quotes in. Damn fucker.

Chocolate brown eyes dip down to the hot drink of similar colour. Kiba blows on the liquid, the rich smell of coffee filling his nose before he takes a small sip. It warms his insides, despite that he already feels hot all over. Great. He can’t even relax enough to consume his daily dose of caffeine now.

Brows furrowed, he places the mug back onto the counter with a frown. “Well, she didn’t.”

“Do you really–”

“For fuck’s sake,” Kiba snaps, turning and meeting Shino’s eyes for the first time ever since stepping into the room. He’s clearly riled up, judging by the sudden need to adorn every single sentence with a dirty cussword. “I fuckin’ told you; she said good morning, and that’s it. Besides, even if she didn’t, what me and her have is none of your goddamn business.”

Shino’s eyes widen slightly behind the thick spectacles he never seems to take off. If he’s shocked, he definitely doesn’t show it. Even his voice remains placid with that blunt undertone he always possesses in both classroom and hallways alike as he finally breaks the quiet to say, “You must be joking.”

“What?” The zoology professor is beet red now, the blush still subtle but persistent enough to tinge his cheeks when he turns back to fully look at his colleague.

Goddammit, you and your tight little body. You just had to doll up and look so pretty today; with your uniform extra nice and tidy, thigh-high socks a crisp white and pinching the plush fat. He just couldn’t help but steal a glance when you had passed by – act all weird about it like some stupid moron, too – and now Shino is getting suspicious. “What?”

Shino’s brows knit together as he uses his pointer finger to fix his glasses that sit on the bridge of his narrow nose. He wastes no time with dilly-dallying around the subject, but his voice does turn a smidge quieter in fear of anybody walking in as he says, “She’s your student, Kiba.”

Kiba’s expression copies the one his friend wears now. He tilts his head like a dog before crossing his arms across his chest. “I know.” All wary, his posture immediately turns defensive; spine ramrod straight. He definitely does not like this piece of knowledge. “I know that she’s my student.”

Turning even more quiet, Shino says, “Well, then you should also know that you shouldn’t have anything forming between yourself and your student.”

“We were just–”

“You were looking,” the Aburame interrupts. “At your student. You even turned your head back as she passed, I saw you do it.”

The brunet blinks in surprise. “Is it illegal to look at other people now, or somethin’?” Fuck, he can feel the tingle of the blush on his face as it deepens into a darker colour. There you are: prancing around in that little skirt again right in his mind’s eye. Not now.

Shino doesn’t miss it, Kiba can tell by the downward twitch of his lips. “When you’re looking at them like that; it sure could be, considering the position you hold.”

“Wow.” Kiba’s jaw clicks in bitter disapproval as he taps his fingers against his bicep and laughs with a huff. “I didn’t even–”

“You’re red.” Mr. Aburame cuts in again. “Your face,” he gestures over to him, “it’s completely red.”

“Well, it’s hot.” That must have been the stupidest excuse he’s ever given him, even he knows that.

The entomology professor sighs before he retaliates, “The temperature in the room is the exact same as it was a couple of minutes ago. There’s nobody here but us, and as far as I know – neither of us have touched the thermostat.”

Silence lingers between the two men yet again. It’s almost half a minute of tension before Kiba swiftly spins on his heels, aiming for the door. Listening to the sound of footsteps and the soft jingle of keys that sound out immediately after, a prominent scowl forms on his sun-kissed face. Of course Shino feels the need to follow after him. 

“Kiba, just listen–”

“Get off my back, Shino.” The demand is spoken through gritted teeth. He doesn’t even turn around as he adds, “You’re fucking insane.”

“Listen–”

“No.”

“Stop behaving like a child with your little tantrum, and just listen to me already,” Mr. Aburame hisses. “You’ll cause a scene with the way you’re acting, for crying out loud.”

Kiba shakes off the hand that Shino puts onto his shoulder as if it burns him. If they weren’t in public, he’d break his fingers one after the other, he’s positive. “I said no.”

Shino’s brow furrows. “I could report you for this, you know.”

Now that does make Kiba come to an abrupt halt. 

He stops in his tracks, turns around, and takes those couple of footsteps keeping him from Mr. Aburame like an angry bull; all until he’s close enough to be glaring up at the slightly taller man with daggers in his eyes and hushed anger on his tongue, “What the fuck are you goin’ on about?” His voice goes even lower, turns even more dangerous, “There’s nothing to report.”

“Yet.” The glare he receives in return for the statement doesn’t faze a calm and collected man like Shino. Doesn’t even make him flinch, despite that he knows Kiba’s hand is absolutely itching to grab him by the front of his tweed blazer.

And speaking of Kiba; he is at a loss for words now. His expression is blanching, skin turning pale. And yet he still somehow manages to croak out, “I thought you were my friend.”

There’s actual hurt lacing his voice.

“I am.” Mr. Aburame’s shoulders slump at the disappointment in his colleague’s voice. “This is me looking out for you as your friend, can’t you see that?”

“Yeah, right.” Kiba stares at him. Something seems to shift somewhere deep within his conscience, because now he scoffs and his eyes turn hard. “Friend, huh? As far as I know, friends don’t threaten each other like that, Shino.”

“I’m serious.” Shino’s lips are a firm, straight line of not judgment, per se, but rather concern. “I don’t care what kind of opinion you have about me right now. You’re not thinking rationally, and I could report you for it.”

“Do I ever?” There’s fire inside his eyes now; caramelized sugar that’s long since been burned by the dancing flames. “Think rationally?”

There’s a pause. And then, “No.” Hesitance.

Kiba’s scowl deepens, it sits on his face like a mask. “So, are you gonna report me, then?”

It’s a talent, really – how fast he’s able to become sturdy and protect himself just by sheer will and intimidation when the need calls for it. It’s like he uses his personality as a shield, instead of the body and strong bones that hold it together.

Transforming into an entirely different person in a blink of an eye.

The entomology professor sighs, eyes unmoving from his friend’s burning stare that just refuses to budge, now. He’s nothing like the flustered mess he had been just five minutes ago. Still pale, his eyes look slightly bigger and darker than they normally do. It’s instinct for survival that makes Kiba’s eyes so big, Shino knows. They grow even larger as long seconds drift by; each of them lasting an eternity. 

Mr. Aburame has no clue how much time has passed before he finally bows his head and says, “No. I won’t.”

And all Mr. Inuzuka replies with, is a, “Thought so.” before he taps Shino’s chest roughly and walks away.

And that’s it.

—

But the problem is that that isn’t it.

Guilt still eats away at Kiba’s morality when he looks up and finds you standing across his desk at the end of his final lesson; looking eager and surprisingly – expectant.

Shino’s words from this morning had really done it for him, he can’t lie. Ever since their little argument in the teachers’ lounge, Kiba had been doing nothing but chewing on and turning over the warnings that his friend had planted into his good for nothing brain. Comparing them, too, and tossing them to the side, just to bring them right back. 

So far, the whole situation has put him onto an emotional rollercoaster; one with hundreds upon hundreds of seemingly never-ending loops. He can’t wait to get off of it, honestly.

And as if Shino being a pain in his ass wasn’t enough already, you had also offered Kiba your fair share of things to think about. Giving him the googly eyes whenever you’d seen him roaming the halls; your smile had been riddling his troubled mind even further, making him lose that last bit of focus he had been devastatingly clinging onto for hours on end.

Far too busy forming a mental pros and cons list if he should try and chase after you or not, nearly all of Kiba’s lessons had suffered for it as a result, and had ended up becoming a complete academic disaster. At this point, all he wants to do is go home and crawl into bed.

But he can’t do that with you here, of course. 

So he stays put. Like a good boy.

“Hi there,” you chime happily when he snaps back into reality and acknowledges you. “Long time no see.”

“H-hey.” Kiba’s face blooms with colour almost immediately when his voice cracks and he stutters as a result. How many more times will he blush today, goddammit?! He forces himself to maintain eye contact with you as he clears his throat, but it’s almost exhausting to do so.

Calming down his pulse is work enough, after all. You make his heartbeat accelerate with just a mere greeting. With the way you’re standing so close to him, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could actually hear it – his heart. And speaking of close, looking up at you and all your pretty glory that’s just mere inches away now: Shino’s warnings are becoming somewhat blurry and faded.

Especially so when you press both of your palms against his desk and smile at him. Just like he has a habit of doing to you.

God, he could eat you right up because of it. You’re like a little cupcake; all sugary and nice. It’s so damn hard to not stare at the way your blouse tightens around the fat of your tits, but he tries. He really tries.

“So,” you start.

“So,” he repeats, knee bouncing without stop. So nervous.

“How are you holding up?” you ask, drumming your fingers against the desk. The sound of your nails tapping the wood makes him realize how quiet the place actually is. There’s nobody left inside the classroom but him and you. Crap. 

He almost doesn’t hear you as you add, “Still tired?”

“A bit, yeah,” he chokes out finally, voice so low you hear him only because you’re leaning in so close. “I’m gonna, uh… head home soon. To get some rest.”

He’s done for the day and so are you, it seems. It’s barely half past four, but it’s already dark out. Winter sucks, it makes Kiba miss the sun. But despite all of that, he catches himself preferring the darkness outside when you round the corner of his desk and rest your lower back against it.

“Aww… Leaving so soon, Mr. Inuzuka?” He can see the way the tops of your socks dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as you pout; you’re that close. The moment you cross one ankle over the other and sigh, he follows the movement with his eyes, not being capable enough to hide the greed anymore. Fuck, even your skirt has lifted by an inch. “I was actually hoping I’d be able to talk to you about my assignment. If you don’t mind.”

“Well, I… I guess I could stay,” Kiba finds himself saying, gaze still glued to your legs that he yearns to reach out for and touch so badly, “for a lil’ bit longer…?”

Wow, he’s way easier than you’d expected.

“Really, you would? That’d be so great,” you utter, nudging his foot with your own. The sudden contact makes him visibly flinch in his chair, causing him to push away and roll back a small distance until you have to step in front of him and catch the armrests as a means to stop him.

Staring up at you now, Kiba stills entirely. You’ve got him trapped, and his breath hitches in the back of his throat because of it. So close that he can count your eyelashes one by one if he wanted to, he feels his body turn rigid by the nearly non-existent proximity. It’s all so overwhelming: your warmth, the way you look at him, the sickeningly sweet scent of strawberries that comes from the chewing gum that’s inside your mouth. 

“Going somewhere, professor?” you ask sweetly, smiling a grin that he realizes makes his legs weak. “I thought you said you and I were gonna talk.”

“We can talk,” Kiba mutters, his throat feeling so dry and tight because your hand is slipping and is touching his thigh now, “just stop with the games. I ain’t good at playin’ them.”

“What games?” You bite the inside of your cheek, puckering your lips in a way that makes you look coy despite that your hand is literally inching higher and higher. “I’m not playing any games.”

His voice is a shaky whisper, “Stop fucking with me.”

And yours is a goddamn purr, because it’s so rewarding to see him this helpless for once; it’s an absolute treat, “But, Sir… I thought you wanted me to do just that? Didn’t you like the little picture I sent you?”

“I–...” It’s hard to be mad at you when you keep batting your eyelashes at him. As if you’re this innocent little thing that doesn’t want to be bent over. Ignoring the thought, he tries to be stern as he says, “I never said that.”

“No?” You blink, eyes glazed over and pupils big. “But you were hinting at it over the phone last night, weren’t you? After I gave you my number when you had asked for it?”

“I–... You can’t–”

“Yes, I can.”

Bullseye, you’ve shot him right through the morality with that one.

It’s hard to breathe properly at this point, the accusation you’re making against him is making his vision spin. Kiba is tugging at the collar of his shirt, lips parting as he tries to let more oxygen into his lungs and say something smart back as a means to throw you off your game. 

That pathway soon becomes useless, however, because the moment he opens his mouth, you slam your own right against it without any warning whatsoever.

And just like that, he’s done. 

The kiss sucks all the air right out of him, no matter how delicate it is at first. Wipes his mind clean, makes his eyelids flutter shut. Makes him melt into you, until he’s yours to command. And fuck, the realization of what you’re doing – kissing your professor – hits you bright and clear just as it hits him. Like you’re both sitting inside a speeding car, aiming straight towards a cliff that neither of you knows how to avoid.

The drop is going to be deadly if you reach it. And that scares the shit out you, but thrills you at the same time. So it’s no wonder that he can sense your hesitancy before the courage kicks in, your lips nudging his own until he finally opens his mouth a fraction wider so that you can slip your tongue in.

And wow, he tastes sweet. Like a goddamn blueberry muffin he’s probably had for lunch earlier. You can still taste it in your mouth by the time he cups your jaw to lightly push you back so that you can part.

“What,” you gasp softly, your Cupid’s bow touching his upper lip with every word, “don’t you want me, professor? Not even a little bit?”

“No, you don’t get it… I want–” he starts, unable to finish when you kiss him again in answer. It seems to deepen the daze he’s in, making him lose his train of thought in an instant. You’re practically digging the hole for him at this point. “Fuck, I want you, pretty girl. I mean, look at you… ‘Course I want you.”

“Yeah?” You smile again, the beam sweet as summer fruit. “How bad do you want me?”

“So bad,” Kiba mumbles in an instant, brown eyes already hazy with lust when you come closer and merely hint at kissing him again. “I wanna do such nasty things to you; fuck you stupid on the desk and all of that, but I need you to sit on my dick first, ‘kay? Think you can do that?”

Your pulse quickens at how fast his decency fades, but you force yourself to remain calm. “Even if I’m your student? You still want me to do that?”

“Yeah, yeah… C’mere, now.” It’s shameful how quick he answers. Maybe if he wasn’t as down bad as a freshman at a frat party; too busy staring up at you whilst impatiently patting his thigh and tugging at your hand, he’d actually manage to acknowledge the disdain he should be feeling for himself. “Be a good girl and sit the fuck down, will you?”

His gaze is hard when you look at him, profound impatience lacing every word. That’s the Mr. Inuzuka you know, all right. All bad and horny as hell.

It seems like Shino is bound to be disappointed after all.

Because now, things are escalating fast. You’re already crawling into your handsome professor’s lap, making him spread his legs in a way that gives him better footing so that he can keep the chair from spinning. Making him groan into your mouth as his hand rests on the side of your head; thick fingers tangling into your hair with a need to push further and gain more, more, more.

But it’s all so sweet and gentle, no matter the speed. Your mouths connect and part slowly, thin strings of saliva barely there. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and dips down to trace the curve of your hip with the tips of his fingers. Unusually cautious; he’s taking his time, trying to calm himself down during it. 

By the time he allows his hands to finally begin roaming your body, Kiba’s lips are already sticky from how much lip gloss you’ve managed to smear onto them with your own.

So keeping the steadiness in mind, poor, flustered Mr. Inuzuka starts with your thighs first. He reaches the hem of your skirt and pushes it ever so slightly up your legs before he rounds the curve and squeezes your ass instead. His hands become full immediately, and you definitely like to be groped like this; you tell him that with the way you preen and start to claw at his fancy dress shirt like you’re some desperate kitty in heat.

You’re already grinding against him, so young and demanding that he can barely keep up. Making him plead for you to do something – anything. And you may pretend that you’re calm and collected, perhaps even nonchalant, but your pussy is clenching; sopping hole fluttering around nothing. He’s pressed so tight against you after all, nudging you right between your legs – the ridge of him prominent. 

And it’s all so warm, Kiba can feel the heat right through his pants. Can feel how warm and soft your little cunt is as you press it even harder against his clothed cock and start to grind against it; dragging it up and down in these slow, salacious kind of movements that could, quite frankly, make him consider marriage at this point.

Blood rushes south at the contact, leaving his head empty aside from the overwhelming buzz that’s otherwise plaguing his mind. His dick is starting to strain his pants, and the pressure from the zipper hurts. Growing big and hard fast, the cotton of his underwear sticks to him because of the pre-cum that’s already leaking underneath.

“Fuck,” he hushes so quietly that you want to laugh, his rough palm drawing patterns over the curve of your spine. He’s a greedy man, his hands touch you all over when you hide your face into the crook of his neck and start to kiss him there, eager mouth searching for his sweetspot. 

He seems to have one everywhere – a sweetspot – as long as the kisses come from you. The little affections are even making his hair stand up; are making him bare his teeth. “You gotta–... Mmh, you gotta do something, pretty. My dick is starting to hurt, so how ‘bout you lemme shove it in that cute pussy of yours, yeah?”

“Is it, now?” Your hands grip his broad shoulders as you readjust yourself, every word resembling a soft purr. The smirk that adorns your lips the moment he stiffens underneath you touches his pulse point, now. His heartbeat is so fast that your own feels like it’s stalling behind. “Need me to make it all better? To fuck you until it doesn’t hurt anymore?”

He starts nodding vehemently when your hands land on his chest and start fiddling with the buttons instead; pushing his limits even further, making him see red. You’re holding him in the palm of your hand and he doesn’t even know it yet. No matter what framed degree he hangs on his wall, he’ll still turn dumb at the mere chance of scoring some pussy.

Your nostrils flare as you exhale through your nose in a derisive huff. “Can you ask for it nicely, maybe?”

“Please.” The word is breathless, a mere pant, but it’s blurted out quickly. He clears his throat when you raise your eyebrows; tries to hide the blush that overtakes his entire face as you wait for him to try again. “Pretty please.”

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You kiss him once more before ending the affection much too quickly for his liking. A lewd pop noise forms; one that usually sounds out whenever you’re finished with a sucker, not your zoology professor’s mouth. “Lemme take care of it, now.”

“Why are you– Oh.”

The small wink you offer him as you slide off of his lap and kneel right between his legs makes Kiba’s heart stammer and his chest tighten as the realization of what’s to happen sinks in. 

He takes the hint of what you’re trying to do now, and he just can’t help it, but this lewd sort of happiness overtakes him in an instant. You’re just so young; still thriving in your slut-era, which most of his ex-girlfriends had long since moved on from in search of boring routine and family-oriented weekend trips he’d much rather miss out on than attend. 

But you – you’re not even nearly there yet. No, as you kneel in front of him: clearly willing to take his dick down your throat right underneath the desk, perhaps even contemplating the chance of letting him cum all over your face at the end of it, you’re absolutely perfect. You’re a mere pet; one that loves sucking up to her teacher. Quite literally.

So he spreads his legs wider, giving you the space you need as his insides begin to twist with naughty anticipation. He’s excited; throbbing in his pants, his dick eager to meet your throat. “How come you wanna do this instead of sitting on me? Wouldn’t it be easier to just let me do all the work?”

“It’s just–...” It’s hard to hide the tremble of your fingers as you reach up to unbuckle his belt and undo the button of his pants. The nerves are finally catching up to you. “I wanna leave a good first impression.”

Kiba’s toes twitch in his shoes when you trace the ridge that pushes up as soon as the zipper is tugged all the way down, heat rushing up his thighs. The way you palm him over his boxers tells him that you’ve definitely held a cock before. Good for you, even though it’s hard to ignore the sudden flash of jealousy. What the fuck is he feeling envious for? “And why is that?” 

“Because,” you say, your shrug seemingly nonchalant, even if you’re far from it, “if I suck your cock good enough, then maybe you’ll consider giving me a decent grade on my assignment…?”

Oh.

“You’ll like me more if I do that, right?” His voice is a mere mumble now, a gentle coo, “Like you told me last night?”

“Mhmm.” His fingers graze your cheek. You can see his pupils dilate when you press your lips to one fingertip and kiss it. He’s completely red in the face again by the time you kiss another one and add, “I’ll love you for it, actually.”

“Oh, honey.” 

“Yes, baby?”

Kiba’s eyes turn soft like his heart does at that, and he needs to remind himself that you’re just using him. After all, there’s literally no way in hell that a young, pretty thing like yourself would be at all interested in loving a man that’s inching towards his mid-thirties and teaches stupid college kids for a living. And come to think of it, why should he be even thinking about a thing like that; much less stressing over it? 

Wasn’t he perfectly content being alone?

So he blinks. Snaps out of it and taps your temple twice as if he’s trying to get through to that wicked brain of yours, tone all of a sudden patronizing and complacent instead of warm, “As far as I remember, the due date was two weeks ago.”

You blink, too. Surprised. “Yes, but–”

“So, is that my problem, then? My fault?”

What? “But–”

He taps your temple again. “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“No, sir.” Heat creeps up your neck at how stern he is with you all of a sudden. It seems that a switch had been flicked inside his head, you’ve said something he didn’t like. Finally gaining the self-control he’s been desperately trying to grasp for all this time, he’s back to being mean again. “It isn’t your fault.”

“The best I can give you is a D.” He pauses to look down at you. And winks.

Rolling your eyes, you puff out an exasperated exhale. “Funny.” Fucker.

“I think so, too. Now,” he says, “are you gonna take it or not?”

“I will.” You pout at the change of demeanor, digits tightening around his girth when his hand rests atop your own. He still hasn’t given any hint that he’ll give you a better grade, but he does coax you into palming him slowly now; guiding you to a steady rhythm that drags across his entire length. 

Christ, he’s so big that you can feel the pain in your throat already. It makes your mouth salivate. “Professor…”

“Mm?”

“About my grade…?”

Ouch.

“Tell you what– hah…” The chuckle that slips past his lips and interrupts him mid-sentence never seems to reach his eyes. “You look mad cute on your knees like that, so if you blow me good enough, I’ll consider raising your grade. How’s that sound?”

“I thought you wanted me to sit on your dick?” you grumble, but hook your fingers to the waistband of his boxers in silent agreement. It’s about time you face the monster cock that’s hiding underneath.

“I thought you wanted to leave a good first impression?” he quips in an instant, brain working at full capacity, now that you aren’t all lovey-dovey with him anymore and aren’t kissing him all over. The fact that he sort of wants it back makes him feel bitter inside. It’s all so fucked up and makes him all the more agitated. “Stop actin’ bratty. You’re not gonna win.”

“I liked you more when you were all red and stuttering, you know,” you manage to say before your breath hitches as you at long last tug down the waistband and get a good look at him. Your eyes look sad despite the hearts in them. “You were actually nice to me.”

His own heart stutters deep in his chest at that. It’s almost enough to break him.

Almost. But not quite enough.

“Yeah? Well, that’s just too bad now, is it?” His gaze turns heavy-lidded the moment you press a kiss right atop the vein that runs along his entire length. The skin your lips touch is silky smooth, its warmth transferring to your hand and nestling itself between your fingers. You can feel the rush of blood within – the heat makes him readjust himself on his chair as he grips the armrest tighter. “Maybe if you weren’t trying to take advantage of me, I wouldn’t be such a dick.”

“That’s rather ironic, don’t you think?” You sigh, giving him the smallest kitten lick to lap up the bead of pre-cum that’s leaking out of the head already. His teeth sink into his bottom lip at that; eyelids turning even heavier at the sensation. The salt is fast to melt on your tongue as you say, “I mean, aren’t you taking advantage of me, too?”

His hand rests on the side of your head, thumb stroking your cheekbone before he touches the corner of your lips. There’s a beat of silence – a comfortable one, despite all the words that want out. But instead of answering the question, he just says, “I don’t like being used.” 

“Me neither,” is all you reply before you open your mouth wider to take him.

It’s hard to resist a groan for Kiba when you finally start to suck. Everything hits him all at once. Your ‘o’ face is adorable. Lips plush and cheeks hollowed; throat tight. The way you twirl your tongue is skilful, clearly experienced. It drags drool all over his cock, making it even easier for him to push it deeper as you attempt to relax.

“That’s it,” he mutters, running his fingers through your hair. He pulls it back from your face, helps you out. Like a proper gentleman, even if he’s far from it. “Such a good girl... So pretty, with a mouth full of cock.”

You try to pretend you don’t drink up the praise. He pretends he doesn’t notice it.

He’s deep in your throat fast – bulging. Throbbing and twitching, you can feel every rush of blood that makes him harder, bigger. When you push your tongue out to take more inches, it makes his palm slam flat against the desk. Even his digits curl at the pleasure. Knuckles turn stark white.

The tears come forth only when he’s more than halfway down your throat, turning the whites in your eyes glassy. It’s not long before the gag follows, the first tear spilling and messing up your mascara as it slides down your cheek. He snickers at that, his lips twitching as you pull back to take a breath. There are strings of saliva connecting you to him already – thick and glimmering ropes of silver that break only when you use your hand to stroke him. 

“Pretty good,” he comments with a smile, mischief prominent in his eyes. He’s clearly over the moon, but he isn’t going to tell you that, of course.

“I know.” You gasp for air but keep the sass. One quick little breather before taking him again, you’re rubbing your cheek against his dick – nearly worshiping it. “I can take more, though.”

“Yeah?” His brow arches. His heartbeat is just about to become violently quick from how you keep petting yourself against his cock. Goddamn, who knew the younger generation was so messed up? “Gonna do a lil’ show-and-tell for me, then?” 

The moment you nod, he’s on you. With his hand on the back of your head, he pushes you further now; doesn’t exactly force you to take more, but clearly encourages it in his brutish ways. His eyes are big and dark when you look up through your blurry vision. They watch your every move, warm and rich like hot chocolate.

Christ, you’re so into this. Clearly adore sucking dick just to make men weak in the knees. The sounds of your sloppy blowjob fill the classroom, they make him only fall harder for you. But despite all of that, and how they present such a lovely contrast to the dull subject he otherwise teaches inside the space, he’s becoming worried someone might walk in and hear you.

He never locked the door, did he?

Kiba’s hand tightens its hold on the desk at the thought; blunt nails sinking deep into the wood. It’s dangerous and it might ruin his life, he knows, but you’re already here, aren’t you? Already choking on his cock, making it glimmer with your drool that’s only there because of how exquisitely sloppy you are.

So, what’s a little more risk? 

He doesn’t think anymore as he tugs on your hair and makes you moan in answer. Doesn’t ponder anymore the moment the whine slips out of your already full mouth. No, he just focuses on the shiver running down his spine, turning his mind even more blank than it already was. 

It’s such a delicate little noise – your moan. One that brings him closer to cumming in an instant, especially because you suck him in even harder now and your tits are rubbing against his thighs like you’re some deity with a whorish mouth.

No, seriously. You know how to work that mouth so well. The way you take his cock down your throat forces sweat to coat his brow. It’s all so intense; the fever in his belly rising every time you use your hand to stroke the length you can’t reach with your lips. You even cup his balls and squeeze them in a way that makes his toes curl in his shoes again. Pull your head back to drag your tongue along the side of his dick, kissing it softly before sucking it again. All of that.

He’s groaning and sweating. Manspreading and pushing back into his chair. Blushing, cursing.

So it’s no surprise how it takes him only mere minutes to cum. You don’t even have to try for long because you’re his student, his little pet that’s just too good at sucking his cock and fulfilling a fantasy he didn’t even know he had hidden somewhere deep within him. It’s all so easy.

“Jus’ a lil’-... m-more, sweetheart.” He’s panting now, holding on for dear life. “Oh, fuck yeah, mhmm.”

The thrill only shortens his line of endurance. As the bobbing of your head quickens and your throat tightens, holding him prisoner – he’s done. Your eyes squeeze shut, mascara running; drool escaping the corners of your lips as you fight back a gag from the way he hits the back of your throat. His teeth sink into the knuckles of his fist to stifle the guttural moan that’s about to leave his mouth as soon as that last twitch hits him and heat spills inside his stomach.

And then he starts to cum.

His chest is heaving during it, eyes closing the moment your own open. He’s such a gorgeous man; so handsome in the most rugged way. His jaw is clenched tight as your own turns slack from hurting so much. Chestnut hair tousled and chiseled cheeks red, you want to kiss him, no matter the thick layer of sweat on his skin. 

But you know better than to move whilst a man is cumming, it makes them too sensitive to function properly and it’d probably hurt him more than please him if you chose to suck the life out of him right in that moment. 

So you stay put. Allow the thick ropes of white to coat your tongue like a good girl, and slowly start to feel him soften in your mouth. 

His release tastes salty and slightly bitter; probably because of the beer he’s told you about drinking last night and because of all the stress he’s endured ever since. Perhaps you should treat him to a fruit salad and tell him to fucking relax when you get the chance. Perhaps.

“Hey… I’m done,” he whispers after a while, his fingers caressing your face to bring you back from your trance. The intensity you’ve made him cum with has turned his voice appealingly raspy. He’s not just done, he’s finished. Utterly spent.

You blink after staring at him for too long, eyelashes fluttering. Slackening your jaw even further, you let him pull his softening cock out of your mouth. Oops.

Kiba sighs, gaze almost droopy as he reaches to take care of the single droplet of cum leaking out the sensitive head. He’s still half-hard, still so hung even though he’s spilled everything he’s had. But you lean in before he can. Help him by cleaning up the droplet by dragging your tongue across it instead. 

And that turns him wide-eyed, makes his upper lip quiver with a subtle hiss as you continue to tidy him up all nice and neat, and keep doing so until all he has left to do is zip up his pants and fix the button. You don’t miss the lovestruck expression adorning his face now. He’s infatuated. So easy.

But so are you.

Silence lingers as you stare at each other; him in his chair, you on your knees. Chests rising and falling in nearly the same rhythm but not quite.

He offers you his hand after a moment of thought. “Will a B suffice?”

You take it in a heartbeat. It’s much bigger than yours. So warm that it makes you burn from within as he pulls you up, fingers long and thick to touch your own. “I don’t care about the grade anymore, professor.”

“No?” He finds it hard to hide a smile as you sit onto his lap and fix his collar. “How come?”

“It’s like you said,” you mumble, avoiding eye contact. 

“You don’t like being used.”

—

The next few weeks to follow are interesting, to say the least.

You haven’t done anything else with Professor Inuzuka ever since that Friday in his classroom. Excluding the couple of kisses you’ve shared, he’s left you feeling utterly confused after parting that same evening; has sparked something you don’t particularly understand, and has jumbled your heartstrings into a messy knot that closely resembles the old headphones you had kept inside your pocket before switching to AirPods. 

And besides leaving you puzzled, your growing feelings for him had also been the sole reason why you’d chosen not to take advantage of him and his position.

Somewhere in-between, you had just realized that you were on your knees – sucking his dick, not because you had to, but because you wanted to. Wanted him. 

And whilst your decision had been rather sweet, he’d still chosen to take pity on you by grading your assignment through rose-coloured spectacles first thing Monday morning. 

C+, with a little note of encouragement attached. Way more than you’d expected to get from him, to be honest. It seems that your blowjob really was superb.

But even after getting the grade, you still continue to talk to him. Usually over the phone, all of your conversations are kept on the down low as a precaution to not attract any unnecessary attention. After all, he’s told you all about Mr. Aburame and his suspicions, which certainly explains why the man has been patrolling and swooping above you like a hawk whenever you sit in his entomology class whilst Kiba attempts to fix his friendship with him. It just makes you all the more careful.

Speaking of Kiba, you exchange brief glances with him whenever you pass by each other in the halls. It’s almost invisible – the look – but you catch the meek twitch of one corner of his mouth whenever you smile and say good morning. He always just nods his head in reply. It’s become quite the routine.

And it’s all so discreet, too: the subtle way his eyes follow you, the mere brush of his arm against your own before the second of contact passes and it’s all over as quickly as it started. And that’s pretty much it.

Because unlike yourself, Kiba holds back. Like, really holds back. He’s still trying to figure out what he wants; if he’s ready to commit. So he merely dips his toes in the water occasionally, and doesn’t give you special treatment of any kind – not even in his classroom. 

He doesn’t hug you or kiss you. Doesn’t text you good morning and good night. You take the same exams as everyone else, complete the same assignments and study for the same final. 

But sometimes – rarely – he softens. Allows himself the pleasure of something more. Like right now – indulging in a completely spontaneous study session, for example. One that’s held at his apartment, the only person he’s teaching being you. 

How fun.

“Ugh… I’m not quite getting this, Si– Kiba.” Saying his first name so casually, without any title whatsoever, still feels weird. He had insisted that you use it whenever you’re alone, but to remain wary when you’re in public because of obvious reasons. After testing it out for a couple of weeks or so, you suppose that you’ll stop mixing it up with ‘Sir’ eventually.

The small chuckle he lets out right after your whiny sentence immediately brushes the nape of your neck. You’re sitting on his bed, staring at the screen of your laptop that you’d brought with you, with your back propped against his chest. It’s all so comfortable and cozy that you could fall right asleep if you didn’t have something else already riddling your mind.

Something rather nasty and naughty.

Because with each passing minute, you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, as well as the way how it grows faster whenever you move; how it spikes when you touch him. Despite the white cotton t-shirt he has on, his skin is warm and smells like coconut. He’s all fresh and tidy, like he’s showered just before you got here.

And does that mean something? Sadly, you can’t tell when it comes to him. He’s one confusing man, constantly refusing to let you into his fickle mind.

“You wanna take a lil’ break?” The light kiss he presses to your neck all of a sudden yanks you from your thoughts. He’s so cautious all the time, but seems to be more willing to give affection in the safety of his home. It makes you all the more eager to accept it, especially as the tip of his nose brushes your jawline and he says, “It’ll probably help you focus later on.”

“Yes, please,” you chime, despite that you can’t focus at all. Not when his mouth is this close to your pulse point, at least. “A break sounds so nice, actually.” Goodness, your tone is so sugary that you might just give yourself a toothache. 

“We can watch a movie if you’d like?” he says as he begins to pull back, thoughts innocent for a change. “‘Cause I think I’ve still got–”

“How about we stay like this for a while instead…?” Fingers tangling into his hair, you bring him right back. Make his mouth linger in the very same spot he had been accommodating before. “Pretty please, hmm?”

He stiffens underneath you in an instant, you swear that you can feel the tension that overtakes him so fucking fast. Even more so as you run your fingers through the brown locks and tug, twirling one right around your finger like you’ve always wanted to do.

“Well, I, uh–” He stumbles now, his breath shaky before he swallows hard. “I suppose that we can?”

“Yay, great!” Your tiny cheer is hushed. The room has become so dark, shadows dance across the walls of his bedroom that you haven’t gotten the chance to look at more clearly. It’s almost six already. Winter really is fast to push away the sun, and you hate walking in the dark, but maybe you can convince him to let you stay the night if you play your cards right.

“So…” He’s so quiet as he asks, “What do you wanna do, then?”

“Well…” And you’re so confident as you reply, “I think you know.”

“Do I?”

“Mhmm.”

Silence.

“You want me to…?” He stops immediately, unable to finish the sentence. It’s so cute how awkward he gets whenever you obtain the dominant role. It might be the risk of losing the way he lives his life. Might be the pride. You suppose you’ll never know.

“Yeah,” you finish for him simply.

Silence falls between you again as he thinks. Eons pass and you hear his breathing quicken with each one. His voice is deeper than it normally is as he suddenly says, “Shut the laptop, then.”

You do as he asks without another word, of course you do. You even shove the device onto the edge of the bed with the help of your foot to gain more room. 

The darkness to fall upon the space gradually eases Kiba’s worries as he lets his eyes get used to the shadows. They make him more comfortable because the shame isn’t as visible when they’re near. Especially as your hand lands atop of his own and guides it right between your legs so effortlessly that he knows you’ve pulled the same trick on someone else before. 

But it doesn't matter. He’s too busy purring, because the other one continuously strokes his cheek, your fingers pricked by the stubble to scrape the skin. It’s as if you’re urging him on. Coaxing him to succumb. Maybe it isn’t his fault, but yours.

Still, he doesn’t dare say anything. Just stares straight ahead, eyes focused on the window across the room as he starts to stroke your thighs; nice and slow. He does it for several minutes, easing his touch closer and closer to the center. Traces it ever so gently and hears you fight back a curse. 

He traces the waistband of your cute leggings, then. Glides one finger along the edge and listens to your breathing stagger when his hand finally slips underneath them and your equally as cute underwear. 

And fuck, your little cunt is so fucking soft. Sticky and warm right at the first touch, it’s delightful. The little button of nerves he presses his finger against the moment he finds it makes you squirm instantly. He applies pressure steadily, experience telling him it’s better this way instead of going all in at once. So he circles slowly, parts your gooey pussy lips even slower. Gathers the wetness and feels your back arch against him in answer.

Your Cupid’s bow twitches when his other hand sneaks up to your tits without any warning whatsoever, making its way right underneath your t-shirt. He pinches your nipple between two rough fingertips and circles your clit at the same time. It makes you burn from within as your head falls back against his shoulder.

The flames grow bigger and hotter when he hunches slightly to kiss your neck, then. Chestnut hair tickles your cheek as he opens his mouth by a fraction and latches it to your throat; the scent of coconut overriding your senses fast. His tongue is warm as it twirls across the tendon on your neck repeatedly, preparing the terrain for his teeth, which he sinks into you when you least expect it. 

When both of his incisors strike home, you flutter your eyelids shut despite the darkness. The sensation turns your vision violet, with dots of dark blue.

The way he places a hickey onto your skin should bother you, but it doesn’t. Who cares if your friends will bombard you with questions later, all that matters right now is that it feels good. That he’s making you feel good.

Especially as his fingers reach even lower and he slowly eases two of them inside your sticky hole that craves all of his attention. Slick covering every inch of those two digits, he pushes them in right to the knuckle in a series of steady pumps that make your legs quiver and your knees want to meet.

Not once does he let you squeeze your legs shut, however. The way you try and fight against him arouses him so much that you can feel the hardness pressing against your lower back. He’s already beginning to get big – is beginning to yearn.

“Shit, shit, shit.” You finally let a moan slip after nearly fifteen minutes of sweet torture. This little mewl that makes his ears perk. That makes his cock semi-hard. “Ki–”

“Shh. Stay still,” he hushes as his other hand lands on your stomach. “I got you.”

But you aren’t listening. Making him stop just long enough so you can pull your leggings and panties down your legs in one go, you’re throwing your clothes onto the floor with one careless swing of hand. And before he can even say anything, before he can even do anything; you’re turning around and pushing against him. Crawling right on top of him.

He laughs quietly as his head hits the pillow, looking up at you with rather giddy eyes. “Somebody’s impatient, huh?”

“Shut up,” you utter before you fumble with the waistband of his sweatpants. “Been waiting for this for weeks.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” 

He only snickers in answer as you pull his cock out and begin to palm it desperately. You’ve even come to such a point that you spit onto your hand just so the drool can help you out when it comes to taking him faster; you just need him that bad. The final rush of blood to get him ready cannot come soon enough, but when it does at long last, he’s sweating and grunting – begging you to sit on him.

And despite the begging, he’s acquired that signature spark in those warm brown eyes of his by the time you finally straddle his hips and align yourself with his leaking cockhead. They burn bright – all mischievous and playful, and so fucking youthful at the face you make when you feel the stretch and still proceed to sit down on his dick like the good student you are.

You take him slowly. Inch by inch, but he’s so big that it hurts nonetheless.

His hands find your hips, one reaching up quickly to caress that same face and push back the strand of hair that obscures it. His pupils are humongous when you make eye contact, it’s ridiculous, and his voice is a mere grunt as he says, “Good lord, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

“I know,” you mumble, brow furrowed in the same focused manner his own dips into. You can smell yourself on his fingers. The scent only spurs you on. “Sure took y-you long enough to realize that.”

“I didn’t wanna lead you on,” he explains, panting. “Didn’t want ya to think I was using you, just because I didn’t make up my mind yet… Especially ‘cause you didn’t wanna do it either.”

“That’s sweet and all,” you reply, his words secretly making your pulse quicken, “but you have no clue how badly I’ve wanted your dick inside me. You’ve literally left me hanging for weeks. Get that through your thick skull, will you?”

“I’m sorry.” He snickers, the laugh soft and light. Like wind chimes. “Truly this time.”

A shiver rushes down your spine at the sound; at the feeling of warmth settling inside your belly. He’s so big inside you that it’s hard to stay still. It makes you all the more wet, causes the inner side of your thighs to glisten with transparent slick. “You better be.”

“Trust me.” He looks up at you as he speaks further, “I am. If I knew you wanted me that bad, I would have fucked you silly on the desk I grade papers on, like I told you back then.”

“I’ll take that as a promise. You owe me.” You roll your eyes at the sudden flash of ego whilst your fingers curl around the hem of your top and you pull it over your head. Fully bare and exposed, you finally feel free; skin burning hot to the touch no matter that there’s nothing to cover it anymore.

Fingers stroking your sides, Kiba’s gaze turns soft immediately at the sight of you. He seems to be struggling to find the right words, but nevertheless gathers the courage to say, “You look lovely.”

Your voice is as warm as his eyes, now, “Really?”

“Mhmm.” His eyelids grow heavy all over again. “Pretty.”

“How about now?” Poor man, he looks like he’s losing brain cells just because of getting some pussy. Especially as you lift your hips just by a few measly inches and slam them back down just as slowly. The squelch that sounds out makes both of your faces heat up instantly. “Am I still lovely?”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters and hates himself for it. Fingers twitch, pores ooze sweat. He hasn’t felt this nervous fucking a woman ever since he was nineteen. 

And while that may have been a long time ago – ages, actually – he can still compete with your peers, right? He’s still just as vigorous and full of stamina as them, right? He just needs to take it easy. To really concentrate. He’s not that old yet, he can do this, goddammit!

“Yeah?” You push him further, palms resting on his chest until his shirt is starting to crinkle underneath them. “You like seeing me sitting on your cock like this, handsome?”

Oh, Jesus motherfucking Christ–

He nods, his expression almost pained when you repeat the exact same movement. Couple inches out, then slamming back down onto them, right to the hilt. Until your clit kisses the dark hair he’s trimmed just for you. Until he’s near your cervix and feels so fucking snug beside it.

“You’re so fucking big, Kiba,” you pant, smiling. “Your cock feels–… Feels s’good inside me.”

God, you’re one nasty girl, aren’t you? Always teasing and provoking him. Making his eyes look at the place where you connect, and then smirking when you catch him ogling.

“Fuck me,” he breathes.

“I am, baby,” you reply.

“No,” he says, trying to focus, focus, focus. His hands find your hips again, one immediately slipping onto the curve of your ass to squeeze it. “Ride it, princess. Need you to move.”

Oh?

There’s a look of determination in his eye that wasn’t there before as he looks up at you and narrows his gaze. He’s so red again, it’s stupid how red he gets all the time, but you oblige by quickening your pace in a way that makes him sigh in delight.

His hand moves by its own accord. He traces your hip, rounds the curve. Glides across your soft stomach, inching up between your tits. Stops to feel your heartbeat before reaching even higher. All until he’s got it wrapped around your throat; squeezing just enough to hear you gasp.

Still completely dressed, he’s so sweaty that your fingers practically slide across his abs when you push his shirt upwards in response to him choking you. Your nails drag across the skin and firm muscle; making him hiss through gritted teeth. It hurts, but it’s not nearly enough to make him relent.

After all, the way you try to gather air into your lungs whilst bouncing on his cock is just so nice to watch. It’s all so unhurried and relaxed. Kinky. You’re so wet, he can hear it. Strings of silvery arousal that bridge the narrow gap between his cock and your cunt. He’s never had a girl this delirious before, never had the pleasure to see someone melt for him as intensely as you do right now.

You truly have been waiting for him to come around. 

With the thought still in mind, his fingers move from your throat and tangle into your hair as he pulls you closer. Your chest collides with his own; teeth clash in a messy series of kisses he initiates first. You’re both sucking on each other’s tongues, exchanging saliva and moaning into each other’s mouths when you feel him bend his knees and get ready.

“Ki–” You moan, the high-pitched squeal breaking your voice. “Ki–ba.”

“Mhmm, yeah,” he hums, eyes glazed over, mind blank. “Pretty name your professor’s got, huh? You like saying it while bouncing on his cock?”

You nod frantically, like a little bimbo. Like a good student – a teacher’s pet. Even if you wanted to answer, nothing but quiet whimpers and slutty moans manage to escape your mouth. It brings a crooked grin forth – one you’ve never seen before. It’s almost boyish.

Meanwhile, Kiba doesn’t seem to mind your inability to answer him properly. Not when he presses his lips into a firm line of concentration and starts to buck his hips upward, meeting your own halfway. Doing his fair share. Helping you out.

The first thrust makes your mouth form a tiny ‘o’ he’s already seen before. The second makes your eyelids flutter, threatening to become squeezed shut. By the third, you’re gasping and begging him for something neither of you knows what it is.

“Goddamn, you– Hah...” 

A droplet of sweat trickles down his temple at how hard he tries to keep himself in check. At how intensely he’s focusing. It’s enough to make his teeth hurt from how hard he’s gritting them. But god-fucking-damn it, the friction is wonderful. Young pussy, just for him.

And he, well, he obliterates it. Straight up ruins your tight little cunt. He lacks speed and stamina, sure, but he possesses enough raw power to bully your womb into fucking shambles just the same; even better than that. He screws you dumb, splits you in half from how deep he reaches and how harshly he makes you sink right back.

He manages to make you cum once, and almost breaks his endurance with it, too. You just get so tight when you become undone, after all; clench around his dick and suck him right in, so persistent to milk him dry. But he saves himself. Clenches his jaw again, and stills for long enough to take a breather and to calm down enough to keep on going.

But yes, even with the little breaks, he absolutely wrecks you again the moment you give him the okay to do so. He overstimulates you by rubbing tight little circles into your clit, until you’re gushing and purring for the second time around; eyes crossing and mouth drooling.

He’s doing so good. It’s a little over thirty minutes as he reaches the point of no return and can’t possibly last any longer. Thirty fucking minutes of brutal rawdogging that makes you cum once more – bullied pussy trying to milk him all over again.

“Pill?” He’s panting so hard that he can barely say the word.

You’re not doing any better, nearly wheezing, fighting for air as you reply, “Implant.”

“Good girl,” he praises, pressing you so tight against him that you can’t possibly suck a breath in. “Gonna fill you up, then… Nice and full.”

You laugh, all breathless and exhausted. “When?”

“Mm, now.”

Kiba doesn’t lie. A couple of more thrusts that are so fast and brutal that they have you spilling tears, and he really does fill you up all nice and full. Paints your velvety walls entirely white; sticks his seed so far into you that it coats your cervix and almost surely floods your womb.

“Oh, god. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…” He squeezes his eyes shut; furrows his brow so hard that it makes his head hurt. He can even feel the end of one eyebrow twitch because of it. 

It doesn’t stop even as he calms down enough to listen to your erratic breaths that you puff out right into the crook of his neck.

“Sweetheart.” His arms release the death grip he’s held your smaller frame in until this very moment, before he cautiously runs his broad hand along your spine. You’re sweating just as much as him, he can feel the salt lingering on your skin. Christ, he really must have worked you up, huh? “You okay?”

“Mhmmm.” You’re still so high from everything that the expression you give him is comically dazed. Your head feels so heavy, you can barely keep it up from his chest. “Dandy, baby… Jus’ dandy.”

He snorts, trying to stifle his laughter immediately.

“Whaaat?” You pout when he chuckles again. “What is it, hmm?”

“Nothin’,” he mutters, lips twitching into a lazy grin. “You’re just so fucking cute, goddammit, ahh… Just wanna squeeze you to death.”

“That isn’t gonna work, you know,” you whisper, despite that you feel heat searing your face at the compliment. “One little praise isn’t gonna make me fuck you again… ‘M too tired.”

“Mm… How ‘bout a lil’ kiss, then?” He can’t believe how soft he’s become so quickly.

“Just one?”

“I can do more.”

“Hmm…” Your eyes narrow. “Alrighty then.” You can’t believe it either.

Kiba holds your face with both hands when you lean down to press your lips against his own. It’s a soft kiss. Sweet and tender, like a marshmallow roasted on a stick; all gooey inside. Promising something that could hurt you if you’re too eager to taste it before it cools off, but also offering something that can satisfy you just as well if you just take your time with it.

And speaking of hurting you; he’s bound to do it. Whatever you have right now won’t work out, it can’t possibly work out. This kind of relationship just isn’t done this way. He’s a teacher and you’re his student. And besides, he’s been alone for so long... He’ll never be able to partake in the role and fill the part you want him to play.

Or maybe, he just needs time. To get to know you, to adjust. Maybe you just need to graduate. Maybe going on a couple of dates isn't such a bad idea, because it doesn’t mean that he’s expected to settle, necessarily. Maybe you can take it slow. Make him drift, instead of sink right into it.

It’s the reason why he says, “I wanna take you out when you’re done with school. Like a real, proper date... If you’d be cool with that.”

“Why, your heart’s running away with your head, mister,” you tease, wiggling your brows when you both feel content to speak again. “What ever happened to staying away from me?”

“Well, you know what they say,” Kiba sighs, pulling you in for another tender kiss. Everything feels so intimate and warm – he’s going to burst from how good you feel.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

tags: @mrs-bakashi

[phantomrose96]

Yknow I don't think I've... talked about the absolute smorgasbord of shit what's gone wrong with my condo since I moved in so

day 0 - hadn't moved in yet, was just moving items over, turned the sink on for just a moment. turns out the tube feeding into the sink faucet was full of holes (how???) and this caused a never-ending leak under the sink. the standing water rotted the baseboard under the sink

still day 0 - said leak and water accrual dripped down and damaged downstairs neighbor's ceiling ($$$). she has to call me to tell me about it.

I have to get a plumber out there next day (still not living there yet! empty place! I have to take off work). While waiting for plumber, I discover heat's not working.

Go to basement to investigate boiler. Seller didn't fix the issue they claimed they fixed.

Plumber looks at sink. Declares it full of holes. Says he can come back in a few days to fix it.

(Plumber postpones, then flakes. I chase down a different plumber.)

Plumber 2 says the issue is with the garbage disposal, not the faucet. Can come back x days later to work on that, and the boiler.

Plumber 2 comes back x days later (I have to take off work again), says "oh the disposal was messed up but also the faucet has holes." Says he can come back maybe the NEXT day with a new faucet

Oh also the smoke detector in the back hall is low battery beeping and I don't have a battery for it. It's constant, every minute on the minute.

I bike to a hardware store and buy a faucet and a battery ($$). Get lost on the way home. (All of this back and forth is by bike. I live in the city and do not have a car.)

Plumber replaces the faucet ($$). I replace the smoke detector battery but it's still beeping. Dozens of more stupid minutes later of going up and down and up and down stairs and dragging my big stupid ladder around, I realize it's the carbon monoxide detector which is hidden behind the door I need to open to even get to the back hallway.

Plumber services the boiler ($$$)

I move in. I have a less than great time emptying everything from my apartment, which doesn't have plumbing issues. On a bad foot to start.

Travel for Christmas. Come back. Now the first floor back-hall smoke detector is beeping. (At least I have a fucking battery. Get my big stupid ladder down the back hall, knock every wall on the way down, and replace that battery).

I get first month's heating bill (I'd been living there for 10 days if even.) $334. Jesus christ. Likely due to the boiler issue.

Electricity goes out for the evening, same day as I get this bill from the gas and electric company, because fuck you I guess.

Homeowners insurance log in doesn't work. I haven't received my bill, which I need to pay.

Radiators bang in the middle of the night. Something something about them being old or not level or full of ghosts. Cool I don't need to sleep or whatever.

I've received no correspondence from the bank about my first mortgage payment. It'll be due Jan 1st, which is a holiday, so I reach out early. They say it's in the mail.

I monitor my mail every day. I receive no mail. I contact again. I reach out to my old apartment building in case it's there (they can't tell me). I sign up for a bank account with them online. I jump through various hoops to discover the bank has my address wrong. The address of the place the mortgage is on...

They had the mortgage address right. They had my home address as identical to the mortgage address but with one number missing. No one noticed. They'd been sending my stuff to a non-existent address, or the back of a college warehouse, I haven't quite figured it out.

I jump through more hoops to pay my mortgage payment with a check in the mail (I had to go buy stamps and an envelope) (late, but they assure me there's no penalty, but are you sure.)

^This has all been about 2 weeks. btw.

(I get a therapist, and find my way to being seen by a psychiatrist, which I guess is good but jesus is it $$$. Still figuring out how to use my stupid HSA)

People on floor 1 move out. They've got contractors in constantly renovating the place top to bottom. I get all their paint fumes.

Sound proofing doesn't exist, turns out. I hear my downstairs neighbors' conversations. I hear their tv. I hear street conversations. One night it was pouring rain and I was woken up by the sound of something banging against the house. Like genuinely banging. I go outside and investigate - it's a car idling with their windshield wipers going. Windshield wipers. Why would that be audible. Walls made of paper.

Floor 1 contactors leave the back door open one night. Luckily I wasn't storing anything in the back hall and had the door to my interior locked.

I receive my next month's heating bill. $689. I call the gas company and they shrug. I call the plumber and he shrugs. I turn the heat way down cuz I don't know. I dunno. Something's wrong with the boiler but it just got serviced so I dunno. I have to call someone else.

Speak of the devil, cones appear immediately outside my building declaring there's going to be gas line work. For a month. They start with the jackhammers at 8am every weekday. It's gonna be a month. I miss the windshield wipers.

We have a weekend of arctic freeze. -30F windchill. I go down to the basement Sunday morning to do laundry. Floor 1 contractors have outdone themselves by leaving a window open. Pipe had burst in floor 1 and was pouring water down into the basement, totally flooded.

I have to call the plumber, and flag the Floor 2 people about it and they at least find the master water shutoff. I'm dealing with the plumber and I have no water for half the day and no laundry for me.

I want to lie down in a marsh for a bit.

[megangovier]

In The Walls

Pairing: Incubus! Michael X plus size fem! reader

Tw: Sleep deprivation, impregnation, slight dub-con

Words counter: 965

No mentions of y/n

Summary: You've just moved into a new house, not knowing anything about it or the history behind it. Lately you've been diagnosed with sleep deprivation which has knocked your mood down. You're currently in bed asleep, but the air doesn't feel right. Growls and wet sounds entered the room waking you up to find a heavy creature sitting on your chest, feeling of being unable to move. Something long and slick darted between your legs.

Mature Audiences only⚠️ Smut • Oral!f • dirty talk • Spit kink • biting kink • tentacles • choking •

Moving into the new house and living independently is all you've always wanted, you were ever so tired and drained from living in such a toxic environment where arguments between your parents happened on a daily basis. Every time they got back from work they would start on eachother which made you get up and leave the house to head to a local library or a cafe. You loved your parents dearly, but this isn't the way to deal with martial problems. The reason this whole thing started was because someone made up a lie about your dad cheating and got this random woman pregnant which didn't happen, that's what caused arguments and eventually the marriage to break.

It's 8:30 and you're currently lying in bed, eyes on the ceiling wondering what life would be like if things were different. That's what you always did before closing your eyes for the night, contemplating things and trying to think better and more positive, wanting to finish the day on a bright note instead of going to bed like your parents did every time they had an argument. Which would drag into the next morning, even when they were driving you off to school.

As your eyes started to feel heavy you turned off your light, pulled the covers over your body and drifted off to sleep with a small smile on your face. As time went on the air felt thick and different but put the weird thought at the back of your mind and locked it up in a box. Breathing in and out your body was relaxed again. An hour later you had woken up due to a heavy feeling on your chest, frozen still you couldn't believe what was happening. A creature was sitting on you, his red eyes looking at your fearful blue ones, long wet tongue running over his sharp teeth making you whine.

"You can't fool me little one, I know you want it, the way heat and arousal is boiling between your legs" he said in a deep voice. Still not being able to move away, he slides down between your thighs, spreads them open and extends his tongue out saliva starts dripping out the corner of his mouth "Fuckk, so pretty and already wet for me" as his tongue slides in, your eyes rolls back "feel good pretty girl, huh? I bet you really want to grab my hair forcing yourself onto my mouth?" You couldn't do anything but whimper back.

Crawling back onto you he grabs your face and tells you "open that pretty mouth of yours" as you did his saliva and your juices went into your mouth, making your eyes dilate wanting more. He knew he was teasing you, but loved how unable you were to wriggle away from him and loved the power he had over you. As he went back down between your legs lapping up your sweet juices, the sexual energy that was in the air was making him more powerful. He wanted to be inside you and needed you carnally so he got up from the floor and unzipped his boiler suit releasing five tentacles. Four wrapping around your wrist and ankles not wanting you to fall off, when he rams into you. The another slowly going down your throat making your eyes water and spittle dripping out your mouth.

"You're so deranged getting off on this, I'm a feared creature that prowls into people's minds at night" something was touching your thigh and it felt hard "be good for me and take it, as i can see you're very distracted with that slitering, tentacle in your mouth" as his strong hands grabbed your hips he slammed his cock into you making you whine "what was that? Go faster you say?" As he slammed faster into you a strangled moan left your throat.

"You're so fucking disgusting, look at yourself having 4 of my tentacles pinning you down, while I fuck you like a bloodhound in heat, dont act like you've never wanted this, that filthy head of yours isnt closed off to other realms you know" the tentacle that was in your throat is long gone, now between your breasts leaving marks making you clench around his cock.

"A masochist? someone likes pain" a dark manical chuckle leaves his throat. Heat rises up your cheeks, looking away he grabs your face aggressively "no, dont you dare look away from me, look at me when i fuck you princess" clenching around his cock but tightly this time, his head falls back "fuck you're gonna make me come so fucking hard, if you keep doing that" you couldn't help but look at his sharp teeth wondering what they'll feel like on your neck or in it.

Michael lowers his face near your hair, inhaling your scent. He moves your hair to the side reveling such a pretty neck. His lips gently on your soft spot, nibbling lightly leaving small traces of bruises. He was close and you knew it "I'm so close, if I bite you wherever you want, please come on my cock, like the little dumb lamb that you're" a whine left your throat. Grabbing your neck pulling you towards him, he sunk his teeth into you making your eyes roll back clenching around him "fuck atta girl, keep clenching around me my pretty slut" fucking faster into you, your nails attack his back making his cock twitch "come for me please, I need to feel you come all over this cock" as you came all over his pulsating cock, he quickly slid both hands on your lower stomach and shot his seed into you "yes take it all" making your body convulse you came on his cock again.

@toxicanonymity @toxicrecs 💗

[axcel-lucci]

Hello my sweet fellow Traffy fan

I am sick at the moment and wanted to request a law x y/n story where y/n is very sick and Law takes care of her like the sweet baby that he is and eventually has to confess his love for her.

In the meantime I will finally read through all your stuff!

(One dirty piece is my side account just so you know who I am)

Thank you so much! (And if you don't want to that's totally fine)

A kiss

A/N: HIIII! I hope you feel better soon, it sucks being sick so here, a Trafalgar Law x sick!reader.

(Y/n) was currently working by the boiler room when she had this sensation since earlier, the hot feeling in her body mixed with dizzyness and a little bit of a nauseated throat.

She doesn't even know what caused this, but she did know that it has been going on for a few days now and she also knows she's sick.

"Oh, I'd just rest and it'll be gone" she says... "I don't want to bother captain, he's busy... I can take care of myself" she says...

After her job at the boiler room, she headed off to the infirmary, hoping to get some paracetamol and finally drink it since she's done for the day, hopefully in secret because she doesn't want the crew to go and tell him...

Of course the walk was a bit long, causing her body to sway and her vision to blur as well as her head to become dizzy due to the motions of the sea around the sub.

'gosh darn it... Can't I do something with ease for once...?' She thought to herself as she blinked multiple times to try and focus herself on the way.

She managed to get a couple of steps away from the boiler room before feeling her knees give in and her body falling in a heavy feeling as the impact of her body and the floor felt almost nonexistent as her vision slowly blurred and faded into nothing, the last thing she ever heard was someone... Someone calling out to her and feeling their hand shaking her shoulder before blacking out entirely.

Law's pov:

I walked around the ship since my office was honestly getting smaller and smaller, as if I was overwhelmed at some point.

Where was I walking to? I don't know, but I did know that talking to a specific person would ease me... Give me a reason to keep going... Even maybe confe- no, that's too far...

As I round a corner, I heard a heavy sound against the floor as if something has fallen, looking over, the white uniform and black shoes made me realise that one of my crew has passed out, but the hair colour made me recognize who it was...

"(Y/n)!" I ran over to her, shaking her shoulder as I saw her face flushed and her breathing is very heavy, she's sweating bullets, too.

I brought a hand to her forehead and could feel it so high I thought I'd be scolded with heat.

I immediately picked her up and can feel the heat of her body through the thickness of the uniform informing me how severe it was, I immediately ran to the infirmary, ignoring the crew as they asked what happened.

I carefully placed (y/n) on the bed, knowing she needs to release some steam, I went to her room then her wardrobe and take a tank top and shorts.

Until I realised... I have to change her.

I froze for a few moments before shaking my head, "be professional, law!" I told myself before going back to the infirmary and changed her clothes.

I forced myself to ignore her beautiful body, her smooth skin, and her pretty waist- "stay focused! She might die from this!" I yelled at myself, and hopefully no one heard.

Once I had successfully completed that task, I called to Shachi and ordered him to bring me a basin of alcohol and cold water as well as a small towel.

He knew that I was in desperate need because within a few seconds, he gave it to me.

I immediately started to take care of her overheating body, and I was thankful enough that it had gotten lower than before.

After that, I placed the cold damp towel on her forehead before pulling the blanket over her.

It honestly made me sigh thinking why and how has this gotten so severe... Surely she would've felt it at first, did she ignore it? Did she even acknowledge it at all??

I hooked her to an IV drip since she was sweating a lot and me being afraid she might loose a lot of bodily fluids in the process.

After all that, I sat down at the edge of the bed and stare at her.

'why didn't she come to me when she first felt it? Why didn't she even tell me...?' I thought before sighing.

"Get well soon..." I mumbled.

After a while, Bepo came in to tell me that lunch was served, but right now... I don't think I have the appetite to do so.

"Captain, come on! (Y/n) will be very mad...!" Bepo told me

"No... I'm not hungry..." I muttered under my breath

"Uhm... Captain... I think I need to tell you this because I can't keep it from you" Bepo pouted while looking apologetic as I stare at him

"What do you mean...?"

"(Y/n)... Uhm... She's been feeling a little under the weather for a couple days now... I told her to tell you but she didn't want to bother you... I said I would if she didn't... And I thought she did... I'm sorry..." He muttered lowly

"Wait... You knew but you didn't tell me??"

"I- I know, captain... But I thought she already told you because she said she was getting better...!"

I just sighed, "it's okay... But at least you could've... You know..."

"I'm sorry..."

I shook my head before rubbing his head, "it's alright, Bepo... Can you just bring me my food? I don't want to leave her side..."

Bepo perked up a bit before nodding and left.

I turned back to her and held her hand in mine, hers were so much more warmer than my own, "wake up soon, (y/n)-ya. I have a lot to ask."

As if on cue, her eyes start to open only for them to close again due to the light above her.

"(Y/n)-ya..." I called as I took a step closer to her, her eyes were dazed and confused...

I knew that in this point of her sickness, she might not even remember what happened until she's all better.

"How are you feeling? Do you need some water?" I asked as I removed the towel from her forehead and dunk it into the cold basin of water before placing it back on her forehead.

"... Ter... Water... Please..." She muttered, still dazed as I nodded and handed her the glass of water after helping her sit up.

"Here... Careful" I said as she took a few sips before placing it down.

I laid her back down as she immediately passed out once again into a sleep.

Bepo came in and gave me my food, "hey... Bepo, after your meal, can you tell whoever in charge of today's meal to make a soup for her? She just woke up."

"Yes sir!" He nodded and left

I started eating while still watching her, at least now I know she's not gonna sleep for three days just to heal.

But then I had this thought... If she's too weak to even sit up on her own, does that mean she'd be unable to eat by herself? Holy shit... I'll feed her.

The thought of feeding her and just taking care of her in general made me all giddy and excited, only if she would remember this right after... I hope she would so that she'd remember how I love her...

Wait... No... Unprofessional.

I soon finished eating and Bepo came in with a bowl of fresh soup as I gave him my dishes before placing the bowl of soup on the bedside table.

"Thanks... You can go now." I said as Bepo nodded and left, "(y/n)... Hey, wake up..."

I softly and gently woke her up in which it worked for a bit.

I helped her sit up as I threw the towel back into the basin before holding up a spoonful of soup to feed her, "say ahh..."

She grumbled for a bit, still dazed and probably dizzy, "I can feed myself."

"Nonsense. You can't even sit up by yourself, what made you think you can eat by yourself?" I said in an annoyed tone before shaking my head, "don't make this any more difficult for me."

She sighed before eating, "sorry..."

I shook my head and continued to feed her, "for what?"

"You had to take care of me... I know you're busy and all..." She mumbled as I kept feeding her until the bowl is empty

"And? My crew's health is more important to me than any work." I muttered as I hand her a glass of water before walking over to the cabinets to give her some medicine to help her, once I hand her the medicine, I told her not to lay back down and let the food digest even just a little.

She obliged, but I can tell she has a hard time not looking at me when I'm sitting so close, so I placed a hand on the side of her face to make her look at me, which she let me do, "hey... Why didn't you tell me you were sick? Bepo said you were sick for a couple of days now... Why... Didn't you come to me instead of lying to Bepo?" I asked in a soft tone

"I don't... Want to bother you, captain... Your work as both the captain and this crew's doctor is already so much..." She muttered, looking down

"Hey. Look at me when I'm talking to you." I frowned making her look back up

"S-sorry..."

I sighed and shook my head, "nonsense... I am the crew's doctor, as you said, so you being sick wouldn't add to my work. And besides, I wouldn't consider you to be... 'work' related in any way."

"What do you mean...?" She asked, her eyes glossy... Probably since she's sick.

It made me sigh again and stare into her beautiful eyes that I always knew I'd drown into, "because... You're more than just a crew to me, and more than just a friend... I know you probably won't remember this but... I love you... (Y/n). So don't ever think you'd be any bother to me. I'd be more than happy to be here for you, actually."

"R-really...?" She stammered, "I thought..."

"What, that I don't want to be in any relationship?? Sure, I was... But... That's because I haven't met you yet" I smiled softly before placing my forehead against hers and pulling her closer, "just know that I will always be here for you, okay...?"

She nods, "you might get sick if you're this close to me"

"Hah... Then you'd take care of me, I don't mind that." I smirked before staring down at her pale lips, "do you mind...?"

She blushed a bit, despite her already flushed state, and nodded

I smiled gently before pressing my lips to hers, I could feel her slowly responding but it's weak, I don't mind... I can always do this again, hopefully she does remember this moment.

I soon pulled away and helped her lay back down, "now go to sleep so you'd be all better, okay?"

She nods slightly with her gorgeous gentle smile, "thanks... Law... And uhm... I-i love you too..." She said in a small voice but I heard it... I heard it very clear.

I smiled and kissed her forehead, "now here's to me hoping you don't forget."

Bonus:

(Y/n) soon got better but couldn't get her mind off the kiss Law gave her while she was sick, and at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to tell him

But she does have to, eventually.

She searched him and found him by the deck, alone.

"H-hey... Captain..." She called lowly as she turned to her with a hum

"Oh? (Y/n)-ya? What can I help you with?" He asks as she walked up beside him

"A-about the other day..." She muttered with a small blush, "w-when you kissed me...?"

Law could feel himself blush furiously, wishing the world to swallow him up until he's at least 30 feet deep into the core; "w-what about it...?" He muttered

"U-uhm... I want to know if... What you said was real, that you like me..." She muttered, "b-becausw I do... Too... I like captain too..."

Law could feel his heart piund heavily, his words swirling into nothingness but he knew what he should do so he placed his hands on her face and pulled her into a kiss.

It surprised her but she knew he had a brute way with his feelings, so he just responded into his kiss as much as he does.

Pulling away for a breath, Law looked at her flustered face, it made him want to see that more often

"I... I like you... Too... I-it wasn't supposed to be like this, I swear!" He swore a bit, "i-it was supposed to be next month, on a Friday with a bouquet of flowers...!" He admits before realizing his mistake and covering his mouth

It made her speechless, he knew he was ready but not THIS ready... But she just laughed a bit, "so... Is that a date?" She smiled

He sighed deeply, "yes... It is..." He muttered

[dindjarindiaries]

Dincember - December 16: Sweet

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompt: Sweet

main masterlist • dincember masterlist

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙

You nearly gasped as you stepped away to approach the nearby booth. It had been so long since you had seen the sweet treat, and you chuckled to yourself at the memory of having to be pulled away from it so many times. It was a seasonal enjoyment for you and your family all those years ago, and you wanted nothing more than to pass the tradition on.

"How much for this?" The merchant answered your question and you handed over the necessary amount of credits. "Thank you so much for this!" Your voice was as warm as the sensation in your chest as you joined Din at his side once again.

"What's that?" Din's voice was solely curious as his gloved fingers pointed at the bundle in your hand.

You nudged his arm with your own. "It's a surprise." You smirked and tucked the bundle into your belt. "I'll show you when we get home."

Even Grogu cooed with curiosity at that, his ears rising while he sat in the nook of Din's arm. Din tilted his helmet and subtly brushed a hand over your back. "In that case, I'll be quick about finding the last of the supplies."

You laughed and shook your head. Din, of course, followed through on his word, and soon you were stepping inside the cabin you called home. Din set Grogu on the counter before he began putting supplies away, and you began to unravel the bundle on your belt.

Grogu made his way closer to you to inspect the item. You grinned and showed the dark-colored powder to him.

"I bet you've never had anything like this before." You began to heat some water. "It's cocoa, straight from Chandrila."

Your words also caught Din's attention. "Cocoa?" He repeated the word from where he stood with the lip of his helmet practically hovering above your shoulder.

You turned around to face him and nodded. "Have you ever had it before?" Din shook his head. You smiled wider and began to distribute the powder into three mugs. "You just wait. It'll be one of the best things you've ever had in your life."

Din removed his helmet and set it aside. "That's quite a promise you're making."

You gently hit your shoulder against his own. "And I intend on keeping it."

You thanked the stars for the quickness of your boiler, and soon you were combining and mixing the three mugs together. The smell alone brought you back to your childhood, only making you more giddy as you soon handed a mug to both Grogu and Din.

"It's very hot," you warned them. "So be careful."

Din furrowed his brow and smelled it up close. His brow instantly relaxed as he closed his eyes in delight. "Smells great already."

You brought your mug up to your lips and blew on the hot liquid. "I told you."

Din swished his mug around and began to draw his first careful sip. You held your breath, excited to share this small piece of your past with him. His eyes widened as he truly tasted it, his brown gaze sparkling as he offered you an impressed look. "You weren't wrong." He lifted the mug in his hand. "This is very good."

You beamed at him, using your thumb to wipe away some of the cocoa that stuck to the hair on his upper lip. "Yeah?"

Din's cheeks began to flush as he nodded. "Yeah."

You turned and rested against his armored chest, letting his arm secure you in place as you focused on Grogu. "And what about you, buddy?"

Grogu set down his mug that was already empty, letting out a burp and a satisfied coo. You laughed and shook your head, only feeling more amused as Din did the same behind you. It was a sweeter memory than the drink ever had been itself, especially as you got to share it with your new family.

[a-crumb-of-whump]

can you give some prompts of either asphyxiation/strangulation or heat whump please? i hardly see any that are prompts soo

hi! Feel free to check out this post for asphyxiation/strangulation recovery whump ideas. I'll jot down some captivity ones while I'm here:)

Content: Aspyxiation/suffocation, collars, captivity, immortal whumpee, gags, heat whump, environmental whump, dehydration, burns.

Aspyxiation/stragulation

Whumper tightening Whumpee's collar by one hole each time they misbehave. Really, it's up to Whumpee as to whether they want to be able to breathe or not within the next few hours.

Whumpee stucks their tongue out after a certain amount of time without air, and Whumper thinks it's the cutest thing ever. Cue them randomly reaching out to choke them and just waiting to see Whumpee start to drool and for their tongue to stick out.

Whumpee's raspy breaths in as the force around their neck slowly tightens.

Shoving their face near a pot of boiling water and threatening to drown them in it.

Whumper trying to "squeeze the tears out of them". AKA Whumpee cries when they're choked.

An immortal whumpee going hours or even days with the collar practically suffocating them.

Whumpee mouthing the word "please" over and over again and Whumper choosing to take it as "squeeze harder".

That huge gasp of air and the way their body writhes when they're finally able to breathe again.

A reverse gag being shoved down their throat until they learn to be respectful.

The little choked whimpers that Whumpee lets out as their airflow is cut off.

Environmental heat whump

Whumpee is stuck in the desert and refuses to drink any water until they actually need it. Cue them passing out on the ground because of dehydration.

There's a heatwave coming and vampire Whumpee is suddenly extremely aware of the sun looming outside, waiting to get them the moment the curtains peer open or there's a crack in the door.

After being stuck out in the hot sun all day, Caretaker runs Whumpee a cool bath and helps them bathe. They're surprised when Whumpee turns the knob for the cold water and lets it cool the water even more.

Stuck in a desert, but they've spent their entire lives living in the cold and have no idea how to survive the heat.

Accidentally trapping themselves in a boiler room.

Stuck with a broken/sprained leg on the side of the road as the sun burns them. There's no shade anywhere and they're in so much pain.

A vampire whumpee absolutely horrified by the sunburn Whumpee has acquired while out and about. (Check out this little drabble from @whumpsday)

Screaming for help but their mouth is so dried out from the heat that barely anything comes out.

Whumpee having no choice but to walk across the pavement on a really hot day without shoes (hurts like a fucking bitch)

Whumpee not being able to sleep because of the sunburn that's on their entire body. The countless days of running on no sleep and being barely unable to move because it hurts so fucking bad.

[fandomsandfeminism]

So you're worried about losing power in the winter- to buy list for when you can't buy a whole generator.

1. A propane tent heater. Mr. Buddy brand is considered very safe.

https://www.amazon.com/Mr-Heater-F232000-Indoor-Safe-Portable/dp/B002G51BZU/

Have extra propane cannisters on hand if possible. This is an expensive buy compared to the rest of the list, but...so worth it. These have a low oxygen fail safe, so carbon monoxide is a low risk, but I wouldn't sleep *right* up next to it, and would put it near a door, just as an extra precaution.

2. A jet boil or other small water boiler/camp stove and fuel. Loss of power for a whole city will almost always trigger a water boil notice.

Fancy one: https://a.co/d/jiElZbj

Cheaper one: https://a.co/d/j8YM6fx

Make sure you have fuel and have lighters to turn them on. Use these in a well ventilated area and only for short periods. Do not use them for a heat source for a long period of time. They can pose a carbon monoxide risk.

3 hot hands chemical hand warmers. https://a.co/d/2u4DSHG

4. No-prep shelf stable food (protein bars are good. Granola bars. Pop tarts. Tuna packs and crackers. Peanut m and ms. Calories that you can consume without power and without water.)

5. Bottled water.

6. Dry shampoo, baby wipes, mouth wash. If this goes on for days, you'll appreciate being able to feel a little clean.

If you lose power for an extended period in the cold: move all people, animals, and supplies into 1 room (ideally adjoining a bathroom.) Cover any windows with towels and extra blankets. If you have one, a small tent that you can sleep in, set up in that room will further reduce the air your body is trying to warm. The goal is to reduce the volume of space/air you have to keep warm. Layer your clothes, but be careful of sweat. Sweating will make you colder in the long run.

DO NOT try to use a gas stove to stay warm- these are a carbon monoxide risks. We lost a lot of people in the Texas freeze last time to carbon monoxide. Please be careful.