/ surprised my mood has yet to wane for here but maybe it's because I find "dude you're struggling with finals? damn, that's crazy; come squirt yourself stupid off my rutmusk" too fun a dynamic ..
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Ah, fuck.
It's too late for him. He's entered her domain already, practically announcing prime breedbait for this in-rut lamniforme to pump until he passes out ...
And he's even got on a "shark warning" themed bikini -
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He's already commando, meaning almost no fabric to halt his progress. Smooth, supple skin gently fills his palms until his fingers head to where Kris was sticky; wet.
"Fuck," he huffed and tried standing further upright, "at least let's get back to my room. More private."
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He's barely able to keep his balance, back posted against the staircase, as Scoped's hands run through him like starving wolves scavenging a carcass. The snow must've gotten to him bad . . .
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His mouth almost moved faster than his brain, but he caught the words about to leave his mouth before they did: "That's what the heater is for."
"Sure," he shrugged trying to stay away from the door until it fully closed, "just try not to freeze me."
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The fact someone is knocking at all has him concerned. Kris doesn't bother greeting him at the door; it's too cold and he's too improperly dressed. A slight pulling of the door to let Scoped know it's unlocked, and he's hoofing it back inside.
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Awake, and already drunk under a 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 cocktail after refusing sleep for three days. Before Silvercane can hit his tongue, beginning productivity, he may as well satisfy his urges. He's tossing a 𝐃𝐍𝐃 sign on his chamber doors and getting to work.
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