Disclaimer: Again, with the ownage… *PP twirls hand in annoyance*

PP'S A/N: IT'S ALL MY FAULT! DX *cries because SHE'S the one to blame for this late update -.-,* While you're beating me with a stick, go check out anime-patriot's sexy fanfiction; she gives me nosebleeds daily with all her writing. *drools* If you're a fan of mine as well, you NEED to read her gynecologist-to-patient one-shot Love Doctor and fruit-orchard citrus collection Fruit Basket; both were inspired by yours truly. *grins like an idiot*

AP'S A/N: =.= I've been trying to keep a whip on her ass peeps, hopefully you haven't abandoned us and the next update will hopefully come sooner than this one did. ^_^;;; And Love Doctor and Fruit Basket are only good because this woman proof-reads them =.=;;; But anyway NO MORE DELAYS HERE IS MIDNIGHT SNACK CHAPTER 2! O:

Midnight Snack

a patriot-pup production

2: A Hint of Lime

The soft sound of keys jingling around came from the direction of the front door, stirring her awake from her usual half-slumbering condition. More confused than irritated (or even frightened), Kagome looked over to her bedroom door with a quizzical look, wondering who else could possibly have access to her apartment, and glanced at the alarm clock by her bed. 1:15 AM. Who could even be coming in at this time…?

Not even considering the noise to be a possible robber, serial killer, or mad rapist, she slowly rose out of bed and straightened out her cami-tee. She ventured out of her bedroom and tried to find her way through the apartment, her only light being the dim lighting from the moon that crept past her curtains. She didn't pay attention to the fact that she was only in the top and a pair of panties since it was hot and she didn't want to run air-conditioning all night or leave her window open. She was cautious and stood a good distance from the door when it opened—

—and it seemed the Levantine deity Adonis himself was hovering in the doorframe, halo, wings, and all.

…Wait, did Adonis even have those? Oh, who gives a fuck.

Kagome felt her eyes widen as he entered the room, coming into a clearer view, his sculpted muscles catching the small bit of light overhead while his amethyst eyes seemed to glow with lust as he grinned sexily, nearly making her orgasm right then and there. What the hell is going on? Why is he in my room after how rude he was? Kagome's mind raced, and she felt her heart thudding as it began to beat faster: the closer he came, the faster it raced. She felt as if it could be seen through her chest, it was thumping so hard with adrenaline and wanton desire. Her eyes roamed down his chiseled chest to his perfectly toned abs, which separated with deep indents leaving her hungry to lick and taste the taut flesh. His body was perfect: perfectly toned, muscular, and tanned, strong in the way that she knew her sensitive nerves would be in good hands and proportioned enough to send wet visions flashing through the regions of her imagination. She knew she had to have been flushed in the face when her lower region started to ache from just the mere sight of this godlike man in her presence, flexing of its own accord and nearly making her whimper with need.

While Kagome's eyes kept scanning him, she saw his "do-me lines", the lines that came together to form a V protruding from his low-slung boxers. The sight of it made her blush harder, and it didn't help when he suddenly wrapped his strong arms around her body, pulling her close so her breasts were touching his chest, soft against his firm planes until she felt the added excitement of two pert peaks rubbing through her shirt to his bare torso—something he would undoubtedly notice, and would embarrass her to no end. While she inwardly cursed at herself for not keeping her arousal under control (GAH! WHY'D YOU DO THAT? WHAT ARE YOU, SOME LAID-ONCE, HORNY— Oh, right), she faintly noted how his violet gems darkened some shades upon noticing her body's stimulation before—

…Holy.

FUCK.

LIP ON LIP CONTACT!

THANK YOU, KAMI!

He kissed her, his perfect, luscious lips moving against her still petals in an attempt to taste her flesh, and Kagome gasped in surprise and parted her lips when she felt one of his canines nip her lip, not asking for but demanding entrance. He had a smirk, a devilish, seducing grin that exposed his pearly whites as his tongue slyly made its way into Kagome's mouth, his expression smug when she moaned, melting into his embrace and letting him win the short battle of authority in this kissing game.

More eager than she should've been—What? He was HAWT!—Kagome threw her arms around his neck and pressed against him more, letting another soft moan of burning satisfaction escape her lips. He ran his strong hands down her sides, slowly lifting her cami up from the hem, and she nearly shuddered from the feel of his skin against hers; his flesh contained electricity and coolness that bore relief to her own on the humid, muggy night, his hands smooth yet strong at once against her supple stature. They trailed up to her breasts, his masculine fingers and palms caressing her supple skin along the way and making butterflies ignite in her stomach while a spring began coiling elatedly in her core.

His tongue twisted with hers as she ran her hands through his silky raven locks, each brush sending tingles through her arms, but soon after, Kagome broke the kiss off for a quick gasp of air, though she couldn't have cared less about breathing at that moment. She looked at the relaxed, seductive figure in front of her who was hot and cool at once, his mouth smirking without worry and eyes glinting with pure lust for her, and she suddenly felt a sort of weird resentment wash over her—they were still embracing, but something felt different.

No…this couldn't be a dream. It was too good to be a dream. It couldn't be a dream.

IT WAS A FUCKING DREAM.

God dammit…!

Scratching at her face, Kagome kicked away the suddenly confining, charcoal-colored bedcovers barely distinguishable in the stark moonlight coming from an adjacent window. They felt scratchy and blazing as her senses went off the meter, turning the comforting warmth in her room into an invisible fire burning her stomach out—in a good way. She warmed not only in her face, but a much lower area—the latter's suffering making her groan with complete agony and realization that she probably had no chance of relief. Why? she wanted to question the gods, why must you be so cruel to me?

Of course, she could've sworn she heard evil laughter echo and an insult she didn't quite catch, but she shrugged off the occurrence to be nothing due to her restless sleep.

She sighed tiredly, the newfound tightness in her bra distracting enough to suffocate her thoughts and force her to remove and toss it across the room. Feeling her hardened nipple's new sense of freedom didn't help her current sexual entrapment, though: recalling the way his hands had been all over her skin, his lips devouring her own as she drank in the sight and mere existence of him. Her night visions were already imprinted into her mind ("scarred" is more like it), and now her undecorated and impersonalized bedroom seemed a little too haunting for her liking as the scene just kept replaying…and replaying…

…and replaying…

…Shit.

She repeats: God dammit…!

How could she lust over a divine being who stole her cookies? She must've been awfully pathetic, kind of like what Ayumi insisted last month when Kagome watched reruns of Guiding Light while crying over an empty carton of pistachio ice cream and screaming curses at the characters. And now she felt not only pathetic, but awkward. After all, she never had a wet dream before…that didn't even involve the actual sex. Was it even normal to get wet from just making out from someone through a dream? What about real life? She'd kissed people before, had sex with an old boyfriend once, but…damn, none of that ever got her aroused before, not really to the point where her lingerie was so wet, she might as well have peed herself. How could one sensual dream with a violet-eyed Adonis score her some brownie points down below? While these insecurities tumbled through her, she eyed her bedroom's blank walls and eerie lighting with newfound paranoia, suddenly regretting not doing anything to the place to feel somewhat at peace, like it was her home and not some creepy, cum-stained hotel room.

She shuddered at that mental image.

As her azure eyes adjusted to the dimness of her apartment, Kagome glanced at the clock on the nightstand, and nearly let out an agonized groan. 12:03 AM—she'd gone to bed a mere four hours ago after moving around some more furniture alone before coming across Sango in the hallway on her way to the front desk, the yoga trainer having paced the entire building as she moped and steamed about Miroku being Kagome's new neighbor. Her best friend apologized repeatedly, but Kagome outwardly assured her it was fine, Sango didn't miss much (besides meeting the godliest man the librarian had ever had the pleasure of knowing existed), and she could always come back to help her with the rest of the heavy objects. Sango took this all in stride, having confidence that Kagome had handled herself for the last two or so hours, before she left the complex to meet Kuranosuke at some club uptown.

The moment the door closed behind her, however, Kagome promptly collapsed on her new floorboards, missing the couch by a few inches and nearly breaking her nose.

Wincing at that memory—and feeling her face twinge in pain at the movement—she sighed before noticing a faint vacancy in her stomach that made her a bit queasy, which only meant one thing: her nightly ritual's fire signal. Initiating a glaring contest with her abdomen that she lost within the first few seconds, she let out an annoyed, monstrous sigh and forced her limp muscles into gear, pushing herself off the bed. After a face-plant to the floor and string of grumbling curses following the thunk, complaining about how her face just "needed that treatment", her legs unwillingly made their way from her bedside to the only foyer, passing by her bathroom and hall closet before finally reaching the kitchenette.

With gunk still in her eyes, Kagome dragged her legs to the fridge—the only thing left by the last owner including other kitchen appliances, since they were too bothersome for the "movers" to transport downstairs, even with the elevator. The walls were a very light gray with two carved in entryways, one to the hallway and another to her living room, and ventilation was nice in the room. And with the cabinets pine and countertops blue, it seemed like a modern, feminine kitchen, one Kagome thought was adorable, especially with its white and blue-accented tiles and her broken, inherited dishes and antique silverware lying carelessly in the sink.

But she didn't come to enjoy the view; she came to feed the baby Godzilla roaring in her stomach.

She opened the refrigerator door and was immediately blinded by the backlight, shining bright in her worn and tired eyes. Deciding it was the devil, she closed her eyes for adjustment, keeping them squinted for a moment before inspecting the fridge.

The empty fridge.

By gods…! If she didn't get food soon, Godzilla would come out and take care of all Tokyo!

Going into brief panic mode, too exhausted to exactly realize no Godzilla offspring was in her torso, Kagome grabbed a nearby coat for some decency considering her short, silk nightgown was nowhere near appropriate for the redheaded Shippou, his wife Satsuki, and their children on the first floor. Not to mention, the chance of her being molested or raped at this hour would decrease significantly if she seemingly had nothing to offer. She huffed, happy it was just warm outside for a summer's night, and snatched her key before stumbling through her apartment and out the doorway as if crazy Bieber fans were on the loose.

The moment she stepped outside, Kagome shivered in her trench coat; it was freezing in the hallway, the lights were dim, and both factors were creepy. Glaring at the vents that were supposed to warm her up, she came to the conclusion that central heating was only for inside the apartments. Bristling a little at being halfway ripped off, she hugged her coat tighter around her body and squinted her eyes, still a little unfamiliar with the setup as she took in the wallpaper (or lack of thereof), ceilings (with flickering lights and all), and flooring (what the hell happened—?). Somewhat forgetting about her earlier panic now that she was just stunned once more over the condition of her new residence, the brunette began to make her way down the corridor, inwardly crying at her ever-growling stomach. Shut up, I BEG OF YOU! she inwardly screamed, moving a hand over her abdomen. Dear Kami; the growl seemed so loud that it could probably cause a magnitude 9 earthquake to occur.

Wait…Godzilla causes earthquakes.

She halted instantly in front of Miroku's door.

Before she could rush down the stairs upon having that "oh, shit" realization, Kagome heard a soft click come from down the hall. Wondering who else was up at this hour, she turned and saw the second most jaw-dropping sight: her godlike neighbor clad in only his boxers, even vacant of socks as his tanned skin glistened in the glow of the hall lights and his muscles flexed with each small movement he made. Inuyasha's body was shadowed by the muted illumination, but as he moved down the hallway seemingly towards her, the lights seemed to reflect off his drool-worthy figure and give him a holy glow. Upon getting a better view of his thighs and their accompanying partner Buttocks—who turned out to be very fit and curvy—the librarian wouldn't have been surprised if there was a puddle of saliva at her feet or blood pouring out of her nose.

He was moving slowly and there was a different look on his face than from before; gone was the fire and rude blaze, replaced with a dazed, almost peaceful expression. But the look in his eye, the way his hair draped around his face, his toned physique, and Kagome's own wandering thoughts about what was lying beneath the red boxers did not help her…aching. She licked her lips before biting the bottom petal harshly, her eyes still wide in shock at his appearance, especially after such a wet dream. Needless to say, hunger was now the farthest thing from her mind, much to her stomach's chagrin.

Then, of course, she went into schoolgirl freak-out mode.

Is he really coming over to me? What could he possibly want? Oh, shit...is this other dream? No, no way—my face still hurts. Wait—does my breath smell? Do I look like crap because I just woke up? Dammit, I should've brushed my hair…! Her thoughts raced through her mind then stopped when Inuyasha did. He just stopped.

What. The. Fuck.

This god was only a few yards away from her and he just stopped. Kagome didn't know what to do, having an odd sense of déjà vu as she was reminded of another time he approached her—during her recent dream. But now, he paused, not scooped her into an embrace, and was just staring…not at her, but her door? But if he wanted her, why didn't he just come to her? There's no way he didn't see her, not when they were literally a foot away. She heard the same soft jingle of keys that was in her dream—then, all of a sudden, he was walking into her apartment.

What. The. Fuck, x2!

Her dream wasn't supposed to be happening without her—

Wait, what?

Had he really just walked into her apartment? Fantasies aside, this was weird—even more weird than the time she walked in on Hojo and Ayumi conceiving their soon-to-be kid and she didn't leave immediately, thus after their climaxes, an awkward silence was shared until Hojo uncomfortably left the cottage to leave Ayumi and the librarian in an even more awkward silence until Kagome asked if they used protection (obviously not the case). Bafflement tugging at her nerves, Kagome furrowed her eyebrows and headed back to her apartment full-speed, following the godly man inside the complex.

"Can… Can I help you?" she inquired softly, finally having found her voice after the drool was wiped away. But much to her inner admirer's disappointment, instead of a yes or no as expected, Inuyasha gave her no answer whatsoever, perfectly content with just invading her living space. I mean, really? Hells, he didn't even turn around to glare at her! What was she? Some darn fern in the corner of an art gallery, or a Spice Girls CD no one paid mind to while passing by?

SHE WOULD BE NO SPICE GIRLS CD.

Kagome had to confess, she hated this treatment more than the insults. At least he'd consulted her existence twice then and actually acknowledged her existence.

Now she was horny, confused, famished, and irritated. Come to think of it, she was starting to get pissed off, hot looks be damned! This jerk…sexy…fit…dreamy…guh god,but jerk nonetheless, was mean to her earlier!

And he stole her cookies!

That in itself was unforgivable.

"Hey, you know what, jerky-McJerk-jerk? You're really rude. And I think you owe me an apology," she said very unconvincingly—she never was good at standing up for herself—before she placed her hands on her hips for extra effect, causing her coat to open and her nightgown to show. Not noticing her sudden exposure, she only narrowed her eyes at him and kept trying to push away her thoughts that were growing ever dirtier by the second.

To her utter disappointment, there was still no response from him. He just seemed to wander around her apartment, ignoring her with the same dazed look on his face, never acknowledging Kagome's existence as he nudged into a few things on his way to what looked to be the kitchen. It seemed as if he was following an invisible map—one that included bumping into strewn-about furniture—as he swayed his way through her apartment. "Hey! I'm talking to you!" she snapped, trying to gain control of the situation only to fail miserably, as usual. When he just kept continuing his journey, Kagome sighed in defeat, trying another approach: reasoning. "You know, since you're in my apartment, the least you can do is acknowledge me."

It was then that Inuyasha stopped walking around and stood in her kitchen, staring off into space as he stood in front of the fridge. When he automatically opened it and peered inside, Kagome huffed and walked over to him, poking him gently in the chest, almost breaking her finger and inwardly making her whistle in impression while also silently crying over her poor appendage. Goddamn, his muscles were firm! If her jaw kept hitting the floor like it did, it wouldn't be long before it just fell off or her mouth ripped, and she would spend the rest of her life either looking like Kuchisake-onna or using sign language to communicate with others.

…Come to think of it, that'd be cool. She wouldn't mind, either, since talking in the library wasn't allowed anyway.

Getting back to reality, Kagome continually racked through her mind for good comebacks. "Ah— Hey, what are you doing in here, anyway?" she demanded, still trying to sound angry—and still failing miserably—though whatever irritation that managed to come through faded as soon as her eyes were glued to his chest and abs.

So glued to them, in fact, she didn't even see the hands approaching her own torso.

Her eyes practically popped out of their sockets in shock as she felt his strong hands over her breasts, cupping the braless mounds through the fabric of her nightgown and bringing back the situations she felt once upon a dream. A moan slipped out of her lips from the touch alone—the heat, electricity, and lust it brought sweeping throughout her really, really didn't help her situation, and the way his fingers traced over her stiff peaks didn't help her keep control of her breathing, heartbeat, or arousal. More confused as to why he was feeling her up than the act itself, she gasped in a broken voice, "W-what…"

What the hell are you doing?

Because as much as she enjoyed such a sexy beast being close to her, it beat all bits of logic she'd observed about his character so far.

She didn't know what was going on—this same man had seemed to hate her right off the bat now was breaking into her apartment and groping her as if there was no tomorrow. To any normal person, this would be creepy (and stalkerish and go under several jurisdictions of "sexual harassment" and "lawsuit"), but at this moment, Kagome couldn't really care less as he teased and felt…

However, this really reminded her of this one documentary she saw once on bipolar disorder…

"Your boobs got bigger," he mumbled randomly, his voice sending pleasant chills down her spine and warming her stomach and core. His half-shut eyes now stared at her chest, his thumbs moving over the top curve of her breasts while his palms rubbed across her nipples, sparking jolts that had her holding her breath with bliss.

Kagome, meanwhile, had never ached this much from someone just feeling her up. She didn't know what to do, as embarrassing as it was to admit it, and she could only gasp out silently in a hardly audible whisper, "What?"

Inuyasha leaned forward and pressed his soft lips against her skin, only making her yearn for more, especially when it felt as if every part he touched blazed with passion and restlessness. She felt one of his hands start to trail down from her breast, over her side, his lips still placing small kisses on her neck, and wondered what he'd exactly do next—what other pleasures he had in store for her in the new exploration of lust between strangers/neighbors.

Why the hell aren't you stopping him? she asked herself jumpily, but the back of her mind (and a much, much lower region of her body) protested against any attempt to stop him, because honestly: When a smoking hot, chisel-bodied man with luscious hair and intoxicating eyes that you want to ride until you are both spent and sated after hours of passion comes around and practically forces himself upon you, would you really want to stop him?

Well, unless you were a man yourself.

Then things just got awkward.

…you know, unless you were gay, then that'd be cool, too…

…

Kagome felt his hand nearly find its way into her nightgown, his skin's flame leaving sweet burns on his hand's trail, but her right mind finally won over—as disappointing as it was—and she pushed him away, causing Inuyasha to stumble back and nearly fall over the box filled with her antique's remains on the kitchen floor. He managed to catch himself on the counter, luckily, and steady his balance while Kagome stood wide-eyed, trying to process all that happened.

His skin on hers…his hands on her…

Holy shit.

She just experienced consented molestation—and enjoyed it.

Holy shit!

So lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't notice when Inuyasha's eyes lost their glaze and scanned her apartment questioningly before he seemed to realize something, grunted, and left the kitchen.

Eyes now as wide as saucers, Kagome trotted after him, noticing he was making his way back to the door as if nothing had occurred between them at all. Nearly sputtering something unintelligible, she managed to gasp out, "Why the hell did you—how'd you even get in here? How'd you get keys to my apartment? Why are you walking out now?"

Begrudgingly, she added in her mind, And why didn't you let me experience orgasm first…?

Insert agonized tears here.

Halfway through the door, Inuyasha paused and turned, his amethyst orbs grazing over her form and leaving sparks in their wake. The color was darker than the first time she saw it, whether it be from the lack of lighting her apartment or the sight of her in a nightgown, she didn't know, though she certainly hoped it was for the latter reason he seemed suddenly more seductive than ever—

"None of your fucking business, wench."

Oh, hell no!

He stepped out the door without another word, and Kagome, red in the face from frustration (both of the emotional and physical kind), went after him, though by the time she reached her door, he had entered his apartment and shut the door none too quietly. Inwardly beating herself up over not being confrontational or at the least assertive, Kagome almost didn't notice how a certain person was slinking against the wall from Inuyasha's apartment to his own, cradling his chest as if a kid was hidden in his shirt.

Almost—but since when did creepers ever really did get that lucky?

"Miroku?" she questioned the male with his back towards her, right in front of his door across the hall. Confused as to why he then only acknowledged her by turning his head slightly, she tapped his back with her foot, surprising him and making him jump—

—only to hear many cracking and crumbling noises following.

An awkward, stunned silence followed.

Kagome wasn't sure how long she stood there, staring confusedly at the broken cookies on the floor and glancing at Miroku then Inuyasha's residence, until Miroku whipped open his own door and gathered the remains of his chocolate chip wonders. "See you later," Miroku rushed out before slamming his door shut, only for an outraged cry to sound from Inuyasha's apartment and the sexy deity himself storming outside to break down Miroku's door.

That was the moment Kagome slid back into her dwelling with wide eyes, closed the door softly behind her, and managed to stumble into her bed, disquieted and wide-awake.

If all this came from her first night being here, she didn't even want to know what tomorrow held.

PP: Never read Slut Girl. Nev. ER. DX
AP: No, read it. You must. :3

PP'S A/N: This is the first time AP's and my writing has came together, so if things seemed weird, different, or less humorous from last chapter, that's probably why—we had to combine our writing and shiz. :/ I apologize again, but hey—three more chapters to go! *whoops* Since I'm trying to update all my stories, I don't know when we'll update, but AP is one determined bitch planning to whip me into writing chapters on time, so it'll probably come sooner than this one did. O.o'

AP: :| *Whip*