#(mafia)

[bunnying-182]

Here are my thoughts on the poll I posted last time

[anim-ttrpgs]

I still think that whenever people get incredulous when they hear that Eureka has combat rules even though it’s an investigation-based game what they’re imagining is the party is investigating when they suddenly encounter 1D6 mobsters or vampires or something that they have to wordlessly fight for an hour and a half of session time to get EXP then go back to the investigating.

It’s not like this.

[louise51020]

I posted it in the Bunnidoll Nation… I’m such a dummy, haha :)))

[darkfictionjude]

47K -> 120K

Note: this is only the kidnapped!route, the escaped!route is currently underway

Hang out with old friends (:

Endure the attentions of a very excitable man

See your brother (?)

See your other "brother" (?)

Know even more about your family

Learn skills that will save you in the long run (maybe...)

Spend some time self-reflecting or doubling down

Perhaps acquire another bodyguard...

Potentially see the POV of other characters

3 methods of escape with their own variations

Try not to die it would be so lame

Changes:

New 'YOU' tab revamp

Saves can officially be named now

New pronoun system

New text for trans players + deadnames

Dark and Sepia themes

(HEAVILY recommended to restart on a new save + sometimes itch is weird and you need to refresh the page for the newer version (the tell would be if you get the option to choose pronouns or not))

@interact-if

ITCH.IO|NEOCITIES|SPOTIFY

[sunnypopoki]

━ 𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄 : P.1

(𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺. 𝘎𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴, 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯… 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨.

ᴛᴡ: ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴏᴜʟ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜰᴀʙ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴇᴛᴄ.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄɪᴢᴇ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇꜱ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴘᴏᴋɪ ᴏɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, Qᴜᴏᴛᴇᴠ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ.

P.2 / P.3

When you first saw him, you were left breathless.

That was years ago though, back when you were a teenager in high school who was only worried about the acne on your forehead and the 'F' you got in your math class. Now, you were preparing to head into college to become a psychiatrist.

You met Kieran as a freshman and started dating him months after. You weren't sure why you started dating him at first, you couldn't remember what he said that left your cheeks on fire, but the feeling next stopped.

Kieran grumbled curses under his breath as he heaved the last of the groceries through the door. His long black hair was messier than normal, tied into a low bun that curled strands around the nape of his neck. His tanned cheeks were red from the cold outside and a button on his shirt was popped open. Did he tousle a bear to get inside? He put the items on the counter and turned to face you.

"The groceries didn't want to come inside," he mumbled.

"You didn't give me a chance to help you carry them in."

His dark green eyes softened. He didn't look at anyone else the same way he did you. There was a time after you got married that you were afraid that he'd leave you because the two of you were yet to be intimate... but he didn't seem to care. You were glad he didn't care. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed a chaste kiss against your forehead.

There it was again. Breathless.

"But you've been working all day, Котик," he cooed, his Russian accent thick whenever he muttered the pet name he always used for you. "You deserve to rest."

All you wanted to do was melt into his arms. You couldn't deny that some part of you already was, sinking further into his embrace, eyes closed—but something was amiss.

Ever since high school, Kieran has been odd. He was a transfer student from London but he was born and raised in Russia, so he was always the popular kid in any class he was placed in. Even after he got in trouble multiple times for delinquent behavior. Sure, his behavior was better than what he was in high school and he was mature, but he was a lot more secretive now. So secretive that he refused to tell you where he went whenever he disappeared for "business trips" for days on end.

Now, you were a trusting wife, but you weren't naive. He worked as an editor for authors and yet he disappeared for days on end because of work? Even a baby could realize that was odd!

That wasn't the only thing though.

You've only been married to Kieran for six months but you were already starting to see signs that he wasn't entirely focused on the marriage anymore. Whenever his phone rang, he scrambled to pick it up before you had a chance to answer it for him. On the days you scheduled to go on dates together, he always arrived late with his clothes tousled about and his hair was undone. Late, late, late! He always seemed to be late for every activity the two of you scheduled together. Of course, he'd apologize over and over again, but the behavior never changed.

So maybe he did look at someone else the same way he did you. The thought left a bitter taste on your tongue.

Is he cheating on me?

It was a thought you never thought you'd have with Kieran. Whenever the two of you were dating in high school, he was loyal to a fault. You couldn't erase the memory of whenever a girl started smack-talking you and he yanked her hard so hard that a chunk of hair came from the roots. Even now, looking at him and being held by him, the thought felt distant. But it was there. That gnawing worry got worse and worse each time he got a call, text message, or left the house.

Well, who'd he be cheating on you with? He refused to have female friends in school because he always claimed that you were the only "woman" he wanted in his life. Of course, you didn't care if he had female friends or not, but you doubted it was someone the two of you knew from high school.

Your jaw clenched. Maybe he's bothered I haven't been intimate with him and he's been going to see someone?

The bitter taste worsened. Making out and slight touches wasn't the same as sex, you knew that, which is why you were so nervous to do it, even if it was with him. He never rushed you and he hadn't ever made comments about it. You listened to the thudding of his heart against his chest and pursed your lips.

You couldn't bring yourself to ask him if he was cheating on you. What if he said yes? What if he wasn't and left you because he thought you were a psycho? What if he lied and continued to cheat? Your hands scrunched up the fabric of his shirt as you hugged him tighter. You didn't want your first love to cause you heartbreak by something as revolting as cheating.

A cold hand pressed against your cheek. Kieran tilted your head back and his eyes flickered across your face. His brow creased in worry.

"Are you okay?"

No, not really. I'm worried you might be cheating on me.

But you couldn't say that.

"Yeah! I'm fine," you beamed and pulled him closer to you. "I just missed you, that's all. It was your day off but you've been out doing errands since this morning. You first went to the pharmacy to get our medicine, then the bank, then to get groceries... aren't you tired?"

He didn't look convinced. Then again, he'd known you since you were fourteen years old, so he knew how to read you like a book. His green eyes darkened momentarily and his teeth nipped at his bottom lip. His fingers traced lines above your cheekbone, jaw, and the shell of your ear.

"I'm sorry. I should have spent more time with you today."

"No, Kieran, what are you even saying? Errands need to be run so I'm appreciative that you did them," your hands fiddled at the button that came undone on his shirt. "That can't stop me from missing you though. I just feel as if you've been..."

His fingers stopped. "What?"

You regretted saying anything at all. You should have just said you missed him after a long day and went on with it, dragged him to the couch, and asked him to watch a movie with you. Your hands pulled away from his shirt and you saw the way his body tensed up like a spring. It wasn't too late to change the conversation. Maybe lie to him and say it was just a joke, that you weren't really worried. No, no, that'd be an asshole thing to do to your spouse, to make them worry you for nothing.

"(Y/N)?"

He never says your name unless he's serious or mad. Your eyes dragged back up to meet his and his jaw was clenched. He didn't look mad, he looked worried. Almost like you just punched him in the gut and he was doing his best to stay upright.

Why did he look like that? Based on all your rushing thoughts, worried about the possibility of him cheating on you, you were the one who was struggling.

"...I just feel as if you have been distant lately," you confessed with a tight smile, "but it's okay. I know you've been busy with work and I've been busy with getting ready for my upcoming lectures next week. I'm probably just being clingy again."

He didn't say anything. You weren't sure if you were supposed to feel hurt that he said nothing or relieved, but you knew that he didn't buy a single thing you just said by the way he was looking at you. He wasn't moving from the position he had on you; hand on your cheek, tense jaw, stiff muscles, darkened gaze. He breathed slowly out through his nose and opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it.

You saw a flicker of something else in his eyes whenever he closed his mouth. Guilt.

Why does he feel guilty? you thought, dread creeping up your spine. Am I right? Is he cheating on me?

You blinked in surprise whenever he pulled you into him again. His nose nuzzled into your neck and you almost suffocated with how tight his arms wrapped around you. His lips pressed little kisses against your neck and he breathed in deeply. For a split second, you almost forgot what you were so nervous about, you almost let the worry of him cheating on you slip from your mind.

"Котик, I'm sorry you've felt so lonely. I'll be able to spend more time with you soon. It's just... work, it gets in the way of so much. But I swear, I'll be able to hang out with you tomorrow without doing anything. I promise, okay?" he let go and cupped your cheeks, "me and you can do whatever you want to do for tonight. A date? I'll do it. Go to bed early? As long as you're in my arms. Anything."

Lies were best told with a sweet tongue. You weren't even sure if he meant well by telling you that, not whenever this wasn't the first time he'd promised something like this. In the end, he always got a call which caused him to leave the house for a couple hours (or sometimes a couple of days). You were used to it by now, so you only forced a smile and nodded. His face lit up.

"We can go ahead and watch a movie now if you want?"

You blinked. Now? He usually put things off whenever it came down to sitting down and watching something. You refrained from glancing at the clock. You wanted to spend time with him but you were already fearful of how much time you could before he was called away or got distracted with something. You couldn't remember the last time you sat down and watched something with him. Though, you supposed it was better than him not being there.

"And what movie do you want to watch?"

He grinned. "I believe I said whatever you want. Maybe we can watch a horror movie? So I can..." he twirled you around and hugged you from behind, "wrap my arms around you like this and protect you from evil. Hm?"

You felt your cheeks warm. "That sounds just like an excuse to hold me."

"I'm your husband, I don't need an excuse for something like that," he kissed your cheek. "truthfully, I adore it whenever you depend on me. That includes each time there's a jumpscare and you almost shit your pants each time."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. I don't get that scared."

"You cried when we watched The Haunting of Hill House together."

"Okay, there's a difference between a demon that you can't fight and some serial killer breaking into your house! I'd rather take the serial killer. Plus, that was years ago when it first came out and it was a sad show."

You didn't miss the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly. Maybe the term 'odd' wasn't the best way to describe him with the way he has been acting recently. After the two of you graduated high school, he started to get touchy about certain topics about crime. He always had a fascination with crime back when he was a teenager in high school, but the topic suddenly became grim for him whenever he got older.

You weren't sure why. Honestly, you've never asked. The topic wasn't something you'd be able to bring up with ease, especially when he tried to change the topic each time someone wanted to talk about true crime or the news with him. You remembered that he was worried when he found out you were going to school to become a therapist... worried that you'd get stuck with a patient who did bad things.

You didn't even want to get into how paranoid he was about the police. That was a different topic entirely.

"I find something real to be much more terrifying than a fictional ghost," he murmured.

"But demons could be real!"

There was a long pause. You felt his muscles churn around you, squeezing you tighter, refusing to let you go and he mumbled seriously. "Promise me that if anyone broke into our house and you had to pick between going with them or a demon, you'd go with the demon."

"What are you on about?" you deadpanned, "I thought were talking about movies, and Kieran, I doubt a scenario like that would ever happen."

"Promise me, (Y/N). Demon or not,  you won't go with anyone who breaks into our house."

Your eyes narrowed. "Keiran, I don't have to promise you something that is common sense. I obviously won't be going with anyone who breaks into our house. You act like you think someone will."

He huffed and let go. The warmth of his embrace leaving left goosebumps all over your body. You didn't get a chance to say anything before he flashed a blinding smile, chuckling.

"I was just making sure. You've always been a daredevil, so I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't try and challenge anyone who barged into our house. I doubt anyone would break in anyway."

It was only natural that you didn't believe him. There were a lot of stories where people said that their partners changed after marriage, sometimes for the better or the worse, and you weren't sure if Kieran's change was good or bad. His paranoid nature only made it hard to believe that he wasn't cheating on you. He was clingy before he married you, but he was overly clingy and sweet now. Which was odd because he was often out of the house or on phone calls...

It was just, well, odd.

"Oh... okay then. Do you need help putting up the groceries before we watch a movie?"

"No need, Котик. You can prepare the movie for us to watch. Choose anything you want."

There was a game you played. Each time you noticed Kieran avoid looking you in the eye, you took three gulps of breath. It was mostly a game you played to calm yourself down from the rush of anxiety you felt each time he did. It left you wondering if you did something wrong, if you made him pissed and he didn't want to look at you anymore. Your lips curled into a frown.

He could just be watching a movie so I wouldn't complain about missing him.

You nodded silently and turned on your heel. It would be best to ignore that entire conversation happened. Worrying over his suspicious and paranoid behavior wouldn't change the fact that he was acting that way. You glanced at him one more time as he placed the milk into the fridge. Yeah. Don't worry about it. Just don't worry.

The living room was down the hallway to the left. The floorboards squealed at the weight and you sighed whenever you walked to the couch, picking up the remote and turning it on.  The two of you didn't have a lot of streaming services so almost everything you watched was on Netflix. Your fingers tapped around and you absentmindedly scrolled through the list of movies.

You were tempted to throw on a movie that you already watched. However, it was supposed to be time spent together and you knew he'd get bored if you clicked something that he had already watched. You clicked a random scary movie. The name was confusing and it looked like a found-footage aesthetic, something about the catacombs under Paris and the philosopher's stone.

"I'm sure he hasn't watched this..."

"Watched what?"

You jumped whenever he clamped a hand on your shoulder. Whipping around on the sofa, Kieran was leaning over the back with a sly smirk on his face.

"Already scared?" he chuckled, "I have a gut feeling you're going to be clinging to me throughout this entire movie."

You pursed your lips. He already got all the groceries done that fast? You knew that he didn't like to waste time but he was insanely fast doing that. He massaged your shoulders whenever he noticed the frown you had, his smile growing wider by the second. He jumped over the back of the couch effortlessly and plopped down right beside you.

"Why are you frowning, my sweet Котик?"

"You got done way too fast with putting the groceries away" you squinted. "It's not normal."

He inhaled. There was a rasp in the back of his throat whenever he leaned forward, his breath tickling your skin. The air was knocked from your lungs whenever his gaze flickered to your lips and back up to yours. "Would you believe me if I told you that I have been craving to be close to you? Especially to kiss you..."

Heat crept up the back of your neck. All the worries you had melted away whenever he pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He wasn't avoiding your eyes, now he was staring so intently that you were afraid that you were going to become a puddle of goo in his arms. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip.

"Mm, can I kiss you?"

"...do you have to ask?"

He chuckled breathlessly, "Yes. It's polite."

"But you're my husband."

"Yes, I am."

His lips smashed against yours. Anything you wanted to say was thrown out the window whenever his hands gripped your waist and yanked your body against his. His hand brushed up your spine, up your neck, brushing over your hair and going to cup your face. His lips were cold and his nose was too, breath smelling like the mint gum he always seemed to chew. The hint of his cologne tickled your nose.

Your hands ran up his arms and you tugged at the collar of his shirt. He was still a ruffled mess from when he came in from outside. His hair was a knotted mess that needed to be brushed out, but that didn't stop your hands from tangling in the strands and tugging at them. A groan tore through his lips.

"God, you're so fucking perfect," he whispered against your lips. "I don't want to stop kissing you now. Mmm, do we have to watch the movie? I want to give you more kisses."

You almost agreed. "...But the movie is already waiting to be played."

He licked his teeth and his hands ran up and down your back. He swallowed and you noticed the dip of his adam's apple, his eyes staring at your lips again. "Of course, we should watch the movie, but..."

"But what?"

"Can I kiss you even more after the movie?"

The fire in your cheeks felt like your skin was melting off. There were times when it felt like you were in high school again, getting all flustered because of his needy nature. Ever since you have known him he has always been the type to enjoy kisses. Even something as chaste as a peck on the forehead, he was a sucker for it. Whenever the two of you first started dating, he'd get so red each time you kissed his cheek, stammering over nothing and quickly kissing your cheek back and scurrying away.

Now look at him. He was pulling you in, begging for more, kissing you like you were his only source of oxygen. He even kissed you like that on your wedding day. His entire family was whooping and cheering after that, and your few family members who attended frowned. You remembered being embarrassed at the time... but you were glad that something like that didn't change.

"Very well. You can kiss me all you want after the movie. Don't try and sneak some in while we are watching, because then you won't focus on the movie at all," you mumbled.

"You're flustered so easily, Котик," he grinned. He leaned into the couch and placed his arm around the back, fiddling with your sleeve as he rested his cheek against your head. "But fineeee. I guess I'll obey your orders for now."

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. It only took you a couple of seconds for you to get comfortable and curl into his side, shuffling to find the remote as he tugged a blanket over you both. You never got an answer on if he watched it before or not but by the way his eyes were glued to the screen whenever you clicked play, you assumed not.

Time became a blur. Now and again he'd comment on the movie or just something toward you, but his arm never moved from its spot behind you. He curled his legs up on the couch and mumbled complaints under his breath whenever he saw the characters do something stupid.

You started to forget your anxieties. Even just for a short while, it was nice to relax with him and to feel him close without having to worry about him leaving to go on some 'business trip'. You were focusing on him too much to even care about the movie. The way his lips formed a thin line whenever he was annoyed, his rapid blinking each time something shocking happened, bouncing his leg up and down.

It was impossible to not love him.

He noticed you staring. His cheeks turned a little pink. "What?"

"Nothing."

His ego would explode if you told him you were staring at him just because he was fun to watch. Hearing his endless teasing wasn't something you were in the mood to hear, so you just feigned looking back at the movie to watch it. His eyes burned into the side of your head for a second long before he looked back to the screen.

You glanced back at him. He was sucked into the TV again. He chewed on the edge of his knuckle and you let your eyes wander. You stared at the tattoos that peeked out from under his collar and sleeve. All those colorful tattoos were hidden away. He had some of them before you met him, which you always found surprising that he had tattoos at such a young age, but he just said "It ran in the family".

It was addicting to trace your fingers over them. Kieran liked laying around shirtless whenever it was summer. You always used to visit his old apartment to sit with him and let him read his books while you doodled on his arms and called them 'new tattoos' while you colored in his blank tattoos. Butterflies fluttered whenever you remembered the way he smiled at you each time you drew on him.

He had so many tattoos that you weren't sure how many he had. Some were in Russian, but a lot of them were creatures from folklore and mythology. Like Baba Yaga, who came from Slavic Folklore, which was tattooed on his right hip. You always used to doodle accessories onto her face.

"Котик, are you going to continue staring at me or are you going to watch the movie?"

You quickly avoided his gaze and looked at the TV. "I am watching the movie."

"Surreee."

Everything was fine for a while. A while, you said, because it didn't take long for all that built-up hope and affection to come back down from its high. Soon enough you'd be feeling the withdrawal. You were in the middle of watching the characters climb through a tunnel of bones whenever a phone started to ring loudly. It bounced off the walls and jarred Kieran out of his trance.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

Your smile fell. Kieran cursed.

The arm slung around your shoulder tensed, his hand curling into a fist that turned his knuckles white. His jaw flexed, and the phone rang for a couple more seconds before he moved from the couch and grabbed his phone from the cushion.

It was bad luck. You were convinced that you were cursed with bad luck. A sour taste bubbled in your chest and coated your tongue. Biting at the inside of your cheek, you shut the TV off completely as that swell of expectation came back. The remote was tossed to the side and the blanket slipped to the floor.

You caught a glimpse of the phone screen before he answered it. UNKNOWN. Of course, it was another random number that he didn't have saved to his contacts. You clutched the blanket in your lap and a lump formed in your throat. Seriously? Why were you going to cry? You knew that he wouldn't be focused on you forever. It also wasn't like you knew he was cheating on you, you had no proof, it was just a suspicion. But that didn't stop the familiar sting of tears welling up behind your eyes.

You knew it was a lie whenever he promised to spend the rest of the day with you, you weren't sure why you let your hopes get up. But it still hurt.

He pressed the device to his ear and snapped.

"What?"

Just who was it that made him sound like that? You've never heard him sound so hateful, so nasty, to just some random caller on the phone. That meant he knew who was calling him even when the number popped up. The random person he didn't have saved in his phone. Someone he possibly didn't want to be linked to.

Thousands of questions tumbled through your mind. Kieran wasn't interested in men, so if he was cheating, it wasn't a man... unless he was interested in men and hasn't told you? He has a lot of male friends. No, no, having friends of any gender doesn't just mean that you'll sleep with them or have a second life with them behind your partner. So if it was a woman... where would he have met her? Maybe it was a client and he was editing her book?

He did read a lot of articles. There was always the possibility that it was a writer of those, right? Wait—

I'm not being a good wife right now, you thought. Your nails picked at your cuticles. I'm just assuming things without any proof. Am I being like one of those psychotic, obsessive wives? Is there something wrong with me? What if I'm the issue?

Your bottom lip wobbled. You clamped your teeth on it to keep Kieran from noticing.

He started to pace and ramble around the room in Russian. He didn't seem to be talking to anyone, mostly to himself in frustration, as his hand was placed on his hip and he cursed under his breath. There were many times in your life when you wished you knew Russian; when you first met him, to impress him, to have conversations with him, to learn his culture and language... now you were more concerned if he was frustrated about a girl or not.

The only Russian word you knew that he actively said around you was 'Котик', a Russian term of endearment meant for a lover which meant "kitten" or "kitty". You didn't need to jump leaps to guess what it meant even if it was a somewhat cheesy term to use (at least in your opinion), but you never argued, since he has called you it since the two of you were teenagers.

"I thought I told you to—"

Kieran cut himself off quickly whenever he realized you were still in the room with him. He dragged the phone away from his ear and his eyes snapped to you, his face falling into despair whenever he noticed the TV was off and you were staring up at him. Another broken promise. Another lie. Another phone call he just had to pick up, that he couldn't ignore for one night. Just how many more broken promises were you going to take before you finally asked him why he couldn't keep them?

Damn it. You really wanted to cry.

Even if it wasn't him cheating on you, even if it was work, some part of you wished that he included you in it as well. You were aware that you weren't supposed to be in every single part of his life. The two of you were supposed to be comfortable in the relationship, not joined at the hip breathing down each other's necks.

You just didn't get it. It wasn't like 'work' was going to straight up kill him if he didn't answer the phone for one night!

Kieran didn't know what to do. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at you with so many open emotions on his face that you couldn't read all of them. But he knew what he had done. He picked up the phone and that alone was enough to break a promise, even if he hadn't left the house. Yet. You knew how it worked—he always left the house after late phone calls like this. You were slowly starting to get used to the feeling of falling asleep without him there. And some mornings, he wasn't in bed either, only a note left on the counter with breakfast he made.

His shoulders sank. "Котик, I... uhm, I need to take this phone call real quick so I'm going to step into the other room, okay? I'll be right back though and me and you can finish the movie—"

Liar.

"Uhm... I think I'm just going to go to bed. I'm starting to feel tired anyway. Uh, make sure to lock the door behind you whenever you go out."

He always did. You weren't sure why you were reminding him.

Deep down, some part of you wanted him to feel guilty. It was that small whisper of hope that if he felt guilty then maybe he'd start changing things for the better, to start telling you why he was so secretive, and to start sleeping in your bed again. You missed the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. Sure, some nights he did fall asleep in your bed. But some nights weren't most nights, and most nights weren't every night.

I miss a man who's right in front of me.

His entire expression crumpled. He opened his mouth to say something but faltered, watching as you got up and threw the blanket the two of you were sharing back on the couch. Oh how badly he looked like he wanted to say something. And how badly you felt about yourself whenever you saw his expression, because seeing him feel guilty didn't bring satisfaction, it only made your heart hurt more.

"(Y/N), I—"

"It's okay," you flashed a smile, "I'll talk to you tomorrow morning."

If he'd be there tomorrow morning.

You didn't give him a chance to respond before you turned on your heel and scurried to the bedroom. The house which you picked with him seven months ago now felt cold and lonely compared to the warm idea you had when you first saw it. Tears sprung forth whenever you closed the door behind you, choking into your elbow as you did your best to muffle the small sobs that let your lips. You couldn't hear him anymore or the muffled rambling over the phone.

The room was dark. The floorboards were ice cold and you didn't bother to brush your teeth, wash your face, or change into pajamas before you crawled under the covers and hid.

Emotions were a complicated thing. You hated how they felt and how it was so hard to understand them. All you wanted was for Kieran to come to you and have a conversation about what was going on, but now you were dreading that he would because you didn't want him to see that you were crying. He always got so panicked whenever you cried. Always brushing away your tears, cooing sweet things in your ear, kissing your face and neck anywhere he could.

Which made you wish he did see you cry.

See? Emotions were complicated.

You don't know how long you laid in bed. You only heard the whir and popping of heat rushing through the vents, warming up the room until you were toasty under the thick blankets. There were times when you swore you heard a shout from the other room, muffled and something you couldn't understand, but then it was gone. Possibly a figment of your imagination, maybe it was Kieran shouting over the phone.

Your day started with a good start. Then everything deescalated in a whirlwind of emotions that you didn't know how to control. All the suspicions you had about Kieran were becoming worse and worse.

If he is cheating on me, you thought. What would I do?

The idea of divorcing him left your heart aching. Ever since you started dating him, you've never wanted to leave him, but cheating would mean you'd have to. While you loved him, you didn't love him enough to stay if he was living some second life with another woman. You gnawed on the edge of your thumb and curled your legs up to your chest.

If you divorced him, you'd have to find somewhere cheap to stay where you could still go to college and not sleep in the streets. No way your parents would let you stay with them until you got back onto your feet, they didn't like you marrying Kieran in the first place because of his delinquent behavior in school and the fact he wasn't going to college. They'd probably tell you 'I told you so' and let you rot.

The part-time job you had now wasn't enough to live in a decent apartment. The two of you lived on the outskirts of the city,  you wouldn't be able to afford a good apartment in the city closest to campus so you would have to settle in one of the apartment complexes near the beat-down part of the city, where a lot of reports of trafficking and crime were made.

A shiver shot down your spine. While the apartments there weren't the cleanest or nicest, the issue of rampant crime was the most concerning. You'd have to buy a taser or pepper spray, something like that. Or learn martial arts? You'd have to find a teacher that wasn't expensive.

Why am I even thinking about this?

Guilt crashed into you like a barreling stampede of horses. Tears blurred your vision as you nuzzled into the pillow and whimpered, muttering soft apologies under your breath. You hated how your mind worked. One thought and you'd take it and run, not giving the chance for hope and optimism to spark. You had to remind yourself for the umpteenth time that you didn't have any proof that Kieran was cheating.

You were the bad one for treating him like he was whenever you didn't know. At least, that was what you believed. Other wives acted better than you. They trusted their partners, but here you were, already daydreaming about your life if Kieran was cheating on you. Just a was.

Soft footsteps broke you from your thoughts.

The door creaked open and light poured into the dark. You stayed still under the blankets, face hidden away in the pillows to keep the sight of your tear-streaked face away from him. The floorboards creaked a little bit the bed shifted whenever you felt him sit down and lean across. His familiar touch grazed your cheek and traced the contours of your face. He sighed.

"Котик, are you awake?"

You didn't respond. Not this time.

He tugged the blankets down and there was another sigh. His fingers trailed farther downward and rubbed circles on your back and patterns that only he understood. He mumbled under his breath to himself. "She didn't change into something comfortable... not even the belt."

It took everything in your power to not move whenever his fingers fiddled with the metal clasp of your belt and he slipped them from the loops. He put the belt on the other side of the bed and the mattress shifted whenever he got closed, strands of his hair tickling your cheek whenever he leaned over. He pressed a kiss on your jaw.

"Ah fuck," he grumbled.

What is that supposed to mean?

Then there were more kisses; jaw, cheek, forehead, lips. He attacked you in kisses and every now and again he'd sigh and stop to trail his hands across your head or over your back. You could tell he refreshed his cologne. It was subtle but it was there, tickling your nose each time he moved to kiss another part of your face.

"Котик, if you're awake, I'll be back tomorrow evening and we can watch all the movies you want. I'm sorry I'm heading out again, but some people at work are being really stupid right now," he whispered against your ear. He kissed it tenderly. "I'll buy you your favorite ice cream on the way back home too. I know you'll be happy with that..."

There was a long pause. He didn't move.

"I love you."

Maybe he waited for you to respond, to say 'I love you' back, but you didn't. It wasn't that you didn't love him... god, the one reason why everything hurt so much was that you did, but you didn't dare to confess that you were pretending to sleep just to avoid talking to him. You didn't want Kieran to hear your voice cracking from crying. Especially since now, you knew he was leaving the house again.

You didn't believe him when he said it was work and you felt guilty that you didn't. He was an editor, he worked from home or his rented-out office, and it wasn't like he had people who worked underneath him.

"Котик, I'll make it up to you, I promise," he whispered.

He didn't say anything else except for a lingering kiss on your temple before he got off the bed. The weight of his body leaving felt more familiar than him being there. Kieran blew a breath and muttered something in Russian before he left the room. The door clicked shut behind him and you were left in the dark alone once more.

The emotions you felt earlier surged back up to the surface. Your nails bit into your palms and tears trickled down your cheeks and dropped onto the pillow. All you wanted was for him to get in bed with you, hold you, fall asleep, and still be there whenever you woke up the next morning.

So instead of facing them and bawling, you swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes. Sleeping it off was better than facing it. Soon enough, you'd find out what he was hiding and what this "work" meant. Your small cries were muffled as you did your best to fall asleep before you got too heavy into your thoughts and cried even harder.

Luckily for you, sadness was exhausting, and you crashed before the clock hit midnight.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/N ;

So you might have noticed the reader isn’t a Mary Sue or know it all. I tried to make her realistic, someone who’s insecure in her relationship, etc. So I hope that came across well. If you don’t like her, remember she’s human, she can change and develop in the story. She isn’t going to be perfect.

But anyway, did you enjoy this first chapter? You can also find it on my Wattpad and Quotev, which is listed on the top of my account. My discord server is also listed there! Remember to comment and heart if you enjoyed it.

[ Read P.2 ]

[tinkerleaf]

i could just go on and on about this one, don't even get me started. cw: mention of blood, weapons, typical mafia stuff

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Mafia!Boyfriend who keeps his line of work far out of your reach, though he knows that won't keep you safe on its own. He constantly keeps you within his or his men's line of sight, primarily in public settings. He keeps a firm hand your lower back or waist when he walks with you in larger crowds to not only to soothe you in the midst of chaos, but to hold you close to him.

Mafia!Boyfriend who doesn't have too many rules for you, except for two major ones. Never lie to him, and never leave without him or one of his guards with you. He doesn't typically care where you go, he trusts you completely. However, he knows how scary the city can be, and needs you to understand that. He's a little traumatized, so it's only natural.

On a brighter note, you've become close friends with your guards. it's like having a small unit of armed besties.

Mafia!Boyfriend who can just be so paranoid sometimes. You ran into the wall earlier and have a bruise on your arm? Definitely questions you about it. Your location pinged a little too close to the hospital? Expect a quick phone call, just to be sure. He doesn't see himself as overbearing and he wouldn't care if you see it that way. He's does what he believes is best for you (with actually good intentions).

Mafia!Boyfriend who teaches you how to properly use a gun, but doesn't ever give you one or allow you anywhere near his own weapons. He flinches when you find one of his good knives and you taunt him by just barely poking the tip. What you don't expect is just how sharp it really is and draw a little blood, and that pisses him off. He punishes you by pouring rubbing alcohol on the tiny wound, which you squeal from. Afterward he might give you another lecture on not touching his stuff.

Mafia!Boyfriend who is absolutely enamored by you. He calls you things like, "darling", "sweetheart", etc. He doesn't allow you to speak ill of yourself, and will call you out on it. If someone even dares to be rude to you, they will be dealt with accordingly. Someone once made a snarky remark about how you made him "weak", but couldn't even finish the sentence before the barrel of his gun was pressed against their temple. It was just a warning, but he never had any issues after the incident.

A dangerous man and a heavy emotion like love is not a healthy mix, but he can't live without you. He will do whatever it takes to keep you in his life, whatever the cost may be.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

[elryuse]

Breeding With A Mafia

Karina X Male Reader

Tags : Breeding, Mating, Non-consensual, Mafia, Obsessed, Obsession, Yandere, Mafia Boss, Cuckqueen, Creampies, Orgasms, Female Orgasm, Marking, Hickeys, Cum Eating, Pussy Eating, Watching, Voyeurism

Words : 4,617 Words

A Request By My Lovely Friend @KariNeko From Ko-fi. I Hope You Guys Liked It. This Fic was Very Enjoyable to Write, So I Hope You All Feel The Same Too.

The black hood came off with a sudden jerk, and the harsh light of a single hanging bulb made you squint. The room was concrete, cold, and smelled of dust and power. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drum against the silence. Then you saw Minjeong, tied to a chair across from you, her eyes wide with a terror that mirrored your own. A strip of silver tape was slapped over her mouth.

The click of heels on the concrete floor snapped your attention to the side. She emerged from the shadows like a nightmare given form. Impeccably dressed in a sharp black suit, her hair fell in a dark, silky wave. She was stunningly beautiful, a fact that made the entire situation feel even more surreal.

“Comfortable?” Her voice was smooth, low, and carried an absolute authority that left no room for question.

“Who are you? Let us go!” you demanded, pulling against the ropes securing your own wrists.

A slow, razor-sharp smile cut across her lips. “I’m Karina. And ‘us’ is not part of the deal.” She gestured a gloved hand toward Minjeong. “She is leverage. You are the prize.”

She paced slowly in front of you, her eyes raking over your body with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl. And yet, a treacherous heat began to pool in your gut. Fuck, why now?

“I saw you with her last night,” Karina continued, her tone conversational, as if discussing the weather. “At that little bistro. The way you laughed… it was mine. I decided then. I take what I want.” She stopped directly in front of you, her Presence filling the space. “And I want you. I want to ruin you for anyone else.”

“Go to hell,” you spat.

Karina’s smile didn’t falter. She nodded to a large man by the door, who immediately drew a pistol and pressed it against Minjeong’s temple. A muffled sob escaped from behind the tape.

“The terms are simple,” Karina stated, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “You agree to be mine. You serve me, in every way I require. You become my husband in every sense that matters to me. Or I put a bullet in your pretty little girlfriend’s brain right now. Choose.”

Your blood ran cold. Minjeong’s pleading eyes were locked on yours. There was no choice. There was only survival. “Don’t hurt her,” you whispered, the fight draining out of you. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Karina purred, leaning in close. Her perfume was intoxicating, something expensive and floral that clawed at your senses.

“Please… I’ll do it. I’ll be what you want.” The words tasted like ash.

“Good boy.” She straightened up and waved the guard away. “Untie him. Leave us.” The guards complied, cutting your ropes and untying Minjeong before dragging her, still struggling, from the room. The door clanged shut, leaving you alone with her.

Your arms ached as circulation returned. Karina closed the distance between you, her hand coming up to cup your jaw. Her thumb stroked your cheek, and the touch, though gentle, felt like a brand. Oh god.

“Such a pretty thing,” she murmured. “Built so well. I’m going to enjoy breaking you in.” Her other hand went to the buckle of your belt. You stood frozen, a rabbit caught in the gaze of a snake, a traitorous thrum of anticipation mixing with your fear.

She worked your jeans open, her movements efficient and sure. She pushed them down your hips, her knuckles brushing against your hardening cock through your boxers. The contact was electric, and a low, involuntary groan was ripped from your throat. Fuck, no. Don’t.

Karina’s eyes lit up with dark delight. “Oh, you like that? You’re already getting hard for me. You pathetic, eager little slut.” Her words were a lash, but they only made your cock twitch harder, straining against the cotton. What is wrong with me?

She hooked her fingers into the waistband of your boxers and pulled them down, freeing your erection into the cool air. She wrapped her elegant fingers around your shaft, and her grip was perfection—firm, knowing. Her skin is so soft.

“Look at this,” she cooed, stroking you slowly from root to tip, a slick smear of pre-cum already beading at the head. “This beautiful cock belongs to me now. It will only ever be for me. You understand? You will only ever spill your seed for me.”

You could only nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she worked your length. Her thumb circled the sensitive head, and your hips bucked forward of their own accord.

“Such a hungry little thing,” she laughed, a sound like shattered glass. “But you’re not just a good fucktoy, are you? No. You’re more than that. You’re going to be the perfect vessel. I’m going to keep you filled with my cunt, keep you pumping your load so deep inside me every day until it takes. Until my womb is full of you.”

The crude, breeding-focused declaration should have horrified you. Instead, a wave of raw, animal lust crashed over you. Your self-respect, your love for Minjeong—it all began to fray at the edges, burned away by the intense heat of Karina’s corruption.

She released your cock, and the loss of contact made you whimper. She undid her own trousers, pushing them and her black lace panties down just enough to expose her bare cunt to you. She was already glistening, her folds swollen and wet. She’s so ready.

“Now,” she commanded, her voice dripping with carnal authority. “Fuck me. Claim what’s yours. Breed your new wife.”

You were lost. The last vestiges of your resistance crumbled. You grabbed her hips, your fingers digging into the expensive fabric of her suit jacket, and guided your cock to her entrance. You pushed inside in one smooth, relentless thrust.

Oh, Jesus. Her cunt was an inferno, tight and slick and perfect. It clenched around you like a fist, and a guttural, broken moan tore from your throat. Karina’s head fell back, a string of filthy praises and degradations pouring from her lips.

“Yes! That’s it, you fucking animal! Ram that perfect cock into me! God, you feel so good stretching me open, you were made for this, just to be my personal breeding stud!”

You set a punishing rhythm, pistoninG into her, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the barren room. Her nails clawed at your back through your shirt. You could feel the coil of your orgasm building already, a tight, desperate pressure in your balls. I’m not gonna last.

“I’m close,” you grunted, your forehead pressed against her shoulder.

“Not yet,” she hissed, her own breathing ragged. She reached between your bodies, her fingers finding her clit. She rubbed tight, frantic circles there, her hips grinding against yours. “You don’t get to come until I do. You’ll hold it for me, my good boy.”

You tried to hold back, to slow down, but the sensation was too much. Her inner muscles fluttered around your cock, and her moans pitched higher, becoming screams of pure ecstasy. Her body went rigid in your arms, and a hot gush of her release coated your pounding length.

“Now!” she shrieked, her eyes rolling back. “Fill me up! Give me everything! Breed me!”

The command shattered the last of your control. With a roar that was part anguish, part absolute surrender, you plunged into her one last time, as deep as you could possibly go, and erupted. Your orgasm was a tidal wave, a white-hot flood of release that seemed to pull the very soul from your body. Your cock jerked violently inside her, pumping jet after jet of your cum deep into her willing, clutching cunt.

You collapsed against her, spent, but Karina held you tight, her arms locking around you. “Don’t you dare pull out,” she whispered harshly in your ear. “You stay inside me. I want to feel every last drop.”

You obeyed, limp and conquered. You stayed buried inside her warmth, your softening cock still nestled in the slick, creamy mess you’d made of her. She rocked her hips in tiny, slow circles, milking the last aftershocks from you, each slight movement making you twitch and gasp at the overwhelming sensitivity. You could feel your own cum, hot and wet, starting to leak out around where you were still joined.

Karina nuzzled your neck, her voice a purr of supreme satisfaction. “See? No one will ever have you like I do. No one will ever make you feel this.."

The cold concrete bit into your back, a stark contrast to the fevered heat of Karina’s body still straddling yours. Her internal muscles gave one last, possessive clench around your softening cock, milking the final drops from you as she rose, a satisfied queen leaving her throne. The air hit your wet skin, raising goosebumps.

Her eyes, dark and impossibly deep, pinned you to the floor. That razor-sharp smile returned. “Again.”

The command was a bullet. You blinked, spent and disbelieving. Again?

She turned her back to you, presenting herself. With deliberate slowness, she bent over, bracing her hands on her knees. The sharp lines of her suit jacket framed the perfect, round curves of her ass. She looked back over her shoulder, her gaze burning into you.

“Not there,” she purred, her voice dropping to a husky, intimate register that vibrated through your bones. “I want you somewhere much, much tighter.”

Your eyes flickered to Minjeong. She was straining against her bonds, a fresh wave of silent sobs shaking her shoulders, her eyes screaming what her taped mouth could not.

“Eyes on me,” Karina snapped, the playful purr vanishing, replaced by forged steel. “Your attention is a gift you will only ever bestow upon me. Now. Look at what you’re about to take. Look at what belongs to you.”

Her hands went to the cheeks of her ass, spreading them apart. There, between that magnificent, toned flesh, was her other hole—a tight, puckered rosebud that seemed to clench under your gaze. The audacity of it, the raw, filthy vulnerability of the act she was demanding, sent a jolt of pure, undiluted lust straight to your cock, which began to stir back to life against your will.

“Lick it,” she commanded, her voice leaving no room for debate. “Wet it for your cock. I want to feel your tongue before I feel you split me open.”

A strangled sound caught in your throat. You looked at Minjeong again, your heart a mess of shame and a terrifying, burgeoning hunger. Karina followed your gaze and laughed, a low, cruel sound.

“She can watch you worship my ass. It’s the closest she’ll ever get to it.”

You were moving before you could consciously decide to, driven by a compulsion deeper than fear. You got on your knees behind her, the cold floor seeping into your skin. You leaned in, your nose filled with her musky, feminine scent. Your tongue darted out, a tentative stroke against that tight little pucker.

Karina gasped, a genuine sound of surprise and pleasure that morphed into a low, encouraging moan. “Yes… just like that… such a good boy for me…”

Her praise, as degrading as it was, ignited something in you. You lapped at her, your tongue circling and probing, tasting the faint, clean sweat on her skin, feeling the intimate texture of her. You buried your face in her, your hands gripping her hips to hold her steady as you serviced her. You were her thing, her creature, and this was your purpose. Minjeong’s muffled cries became a distant soundtrack to your depravity.

When she was slick and open from your mouth, Karina pushed back against your face, grinding against your tongue one last time before pulling away. “Now. Fuck me. And don’t you dare be gentle.”

Your own arousal was a painful, throbbing demand now. You guided the head of your rock-hard cock to her newly lubricated entrance. It was impossibly tight, a ring of fire resisting you. You pushed, your muscles straining, and with a low, guttural groan from both of you, you popped inside.

“Fuck!” Karina hissed, her back arching violently. “God, yes… so full… you’re stretching me so good…”

You began to move, a slow, torturous slide that made you see stars. The heat, the tightness—it was overwhelming, a slick, clenching vise around your shaft that was miles tighter than her cunt. Each thrust was a conquest, a violation she commanded and adored. You grabbed her hips, finding a brutal, punishing rhythm, slamming into her with a force that shook her entire body. The lewd, wet sound of your coupling filled the room, a filthy metronome marking your surrender.

“Harder!” she screamed, pushing back against you to meet every thrust. “Give it all to me! I want to feel you lose yourself in my ass!”

You were close, so close, the coil in your gut winding to a breaking point. Your eyes were squeezed shut, lost in the sensation, in the degrading, incredible pleasure of taking her like this.

“Open your eyes,” she demanded, her voice ragged but still in control. “Look at her. I want you to see her face when you fill me.”

Your eyes flew open, meeting Minjeong’s. Her face was a mask of horror and heartbreak, tears streaming down her cheeks. The sight should have cooled your ardor, but it only stoked the dark fire Karina had lit inside you. You were fucking this beautiful, powerful woman, claiming her in the most primal way, and your former love could do nothing but watch.

“I’m… I’m gonna come…” you grunted, your thrusts becoming erratic, desperate.

“Do it,” Karina moaned, clenching around you rhythmically, milking your orgasm from you. “Breed my ass… mark your territory…”

With a final, deep plunge, you buried yourself to the hilt and erupted. Your orgasm was a silent scream, a seismic release that ripped through you as you pumped your release deep into her bowels, claiming that intimate darkness. You stayed there, pulsing, shuddering, utterly spent.

Karina slowly straightened up, letting your slick cock slip from her with a soft, wet sound. She turned, and before you could even catch your breath, she grabbed your arm.

“Not done,” she breathed, her eyes alight with a frenzied, possessive energy. She pulled you, still dripping with sweat and her, toward Minjeong’s chair. “On your hands and knees. Now.”

You dropped to the floor, assuming the doggy style position, your body obeying her before your mind could protest. Karina positioned herself behind you, but then she reached forward, her fingers tangling viciously in Minjeong’s hair. She yanked the crying woman’s head forward, forcing her to look directly at your joined bodies.

“Closer, Minjeong,” Karina taunted, her voice a venomous whisper. “I want you to see what a real man looks like when he’s properly claimed. See how he takes me? See how he belongs to me?”

And then Karina slammed back onto your cock, taking you in one stroke. You cried out, the sensitivity almost painful, but she was insatiable. She set a ruthless pace, fucking herself on you, using you for her pleasure right in front of the woman you once loved.

She leaned over your back, her lips finding your ear, her eyes locked on Minjeong’s tortured gaze. “A King,” she panted, driving down onto you, “deserves a Queen.” She kissed your neck, a sharp, possessive bite followed by a soothing tongue. She then captured your mouth with hers, a deep, filthy, mocking kiss, giving Minjeong a front-row seat to your complete corruption.

She broke the kiss, looking directly at her captive audience, her voice dripping with contemptuous triumph. “And you, my dear… you are definitely not it.”

The air crackled with Minjeong’s muffled screams, a desperate, guttural sound that was all rage and helplessness. You saw her from the corner of your eye, her body straining against the ropes that bit into her wrists, her chair scraping a furious, futile rhythm against the concrete floor. Her eyes, wide and burning with tears of pure hatred, were fixed on Karina.

Karina, still seated atop you, merely sighed as if annoyed by a buzzing fly. She didn’t even look at Minjeong, her dark, possessive gaze locked on your face, reading every conflicted emotion that must have been written there.

“Tsk, tsk. Such a noisy little thing,” she murmured, her voice a low, intimate hum that was for you alone. She lifted herself off you slowly, your slick cock sliding out of her with a soft, wet sound that seemed deafening in the tense room. The sudden emptiness was a shock, a cold loss that made you shiver.

She stood, all predatory grace, and walked over to the struggling Minjeong. Her heels clicked with a chilling finality. Minjeong’s struggles intensified, a fresh wave of panic in her eyes as Karina loomed over her.

“I said… be quiet,” Karina said, her voice dropping to an icy whisper. And then her hand, so elegant and sharp, snapped forward. The crack of her palm against Minjeong’s cheek was a gunshot in the room. Minjeong’s head snapped to the side, a stunned, hurt sob catching behind the tape. A red handprint bloomed on her pale skin.

Karina didn’t linger. She turned her back on Minjeong as if she were nothing, absolutely nothing, and sauntered back to you. The dismissal was more brutal than the slap. Minjeong was rendered irrelevant, a piece of furniture witnessing a private performance.

“Now, where were we, my love?” Karina purred, her demeanor shifting back to that dark, seductive possessiveness in an instant. She pushed at your shoulders. “On your back. I want to see your face when I take you this time.”

You obeyed, the command slipping past the last shreds of your will. You lay back on the cold concrete, the rough texture a stark contrast to what was coming. Karina straddled you, but this time she turned around, presenting you with the breathtaking, impossible curve of her back and the perfect, round globes of her ass. Reverse cowgirl. She positioned herself over your aching, wet erection, guiding you to her entrance.

But she didn’t sink down immediately. Instead, she leaned forward, bracing her hands on your thighs, and looked back over her shoulder at you. The move arched her back, presenting herself to you like a feast, but her eyes held yours captive.

“Watch me,” she commanded softly. “Watch how you disappear inside me.”

And then she lowered herself. It was agony and ecstasy. A slow, torturous, millimeter-by-millimeter descent that made every nerve in your body scream. You could feel every ridge, every intimate fold of her cunt stretching to accommodate you, the exquisite, velvet-hot tightness enveloping you so completely. Your breath hitched, a sharp, ragged sound. God, she’s so deep like this.

Once she was fully seated, she began to move. But it wasn’t the frantic, punishing pace from before. This was different. This was… sensual. Devastatingly intimate. She rolled her hips in a slow, grinding circle, milking your length with a rhythm that was pure, unadulterated seduction. Her inner muscles clenched around you in a slow, possessive pulse. She’s… making love to me.

One of her hands left your thigh and snaked back, her fingers finding your hair. She didn’t pull or yank. She caressed it, running her fingers through the strands with a shocking tenderness that felt more violating than any cruelty. The contrast was mind-shattering.

“That’s it,” she whispered, her voice husky with her own pleasure. “You feel so good inside me. You fit me so perfectly. My perfect husband.”

She increased her pace slightly, the smooth, rocking motions of her hips becoming more urgent. Her head fell forward, a low moan escaping her lips. You could only watch, mesmerized, as she used your body, as she took her pleasure from you with a terrifying, beautiful grace. You were nothing but a tool for her ecstasy, and the realization should have shamed you. Instead, a dizzying wave of pride washed over you. You were hers. You were good for her.

She lifted her head and looked back at Minjeong again, a slow, smug smile spreading on her lips as she continued to ride you. Minjeong had gone still, her expression one of shattered, horrified understanding. She wasn't just watching a violation; she was watching a consummation.

Then Karina’s gaze returned to you, her eyes dark pools of absolute possession. She leaned back further, one hand braced on your stomach, the other still tangled in your hair, and lowered her mouth to your neck. Her lips were soft, then her teeth were sharp. She bit down, not hard enough to break the skin, but with a firm, claiming pressure that made you gasp and buck your hips up into her. She suckled the spot, a long, drawn-out sensation that you knew was branding you.

When she pulled away, a dark red mark—a hickey, a trophy—was left on your skin. She kissed it gently.

”This mark means you are mine,” she breathed against your damp skin, her voice a vibration you felt in your very bones. ”No one else will ever touch you here. No one else will ever have this part of you. It’s my name written on your skin.”

She sat up fully again, her rhythm becoming more demanding, her breaths coming in sharp, excited pants. The sensual claiming was giving way to raw, primal need. She was close. You could feel the tell-tale flutter deep inside her, the way her body began to tighten around you, pulling you relentlessly toward your own peak.

”I can feel you,” she moaned, throwing her head back, her perfectform a silhouette against the harsh light. ”I can feel you getting even harder for me. You want to give it to me, don’t you? You want to pump your seed so deep inside your Queen.”

You could only groan in response, your hands coming up to grip her hips, your fingers pressing into the soft flesh of her ass, urging her on, begging her without words to let you fall. Your orgasm was a live wire, sparking at the base of your spine, and you were nothing but a conduit for her pleasure.

The sound of your blood roaring in your ears was the only thing you could hear, your entire world narrowed to the tight, wet heat of her and the intense pressure coiling at the base of your spine. You were so close, teetering on the very edge.

Karina’s rhythm fractured, her own climax imminent. But instead of letting you both fall, she suddenly planted her hands on your chest and pushed herself off you, your slick cock sliding out of her with a wet, obscene pop. The sudden emptiness was a physical ache, a cold shock that made you gasp.

“Flip me over,” she commanded, her voice husky and raw with unsated need. She didn’t wait for you to comply, already moving with that terrifying, predatory grace. She turned onto her hands and knees, presenting herself to you. Her back was a elegant curve, her perfect ass raised in the air, glistening with a mixture of your sweat and her own arousal. “Take me from behind. And don’t you dare take your eyes off her.”

Her own head was turned, her dark, intense eyes locking across the room. You followed her gaze. Minjeong. Still bound to that cold metal chair, her body trembling with silent, helpless sobs. Her expressive eyes were wide, red-rimmed pools of pure, undiluted agony.

Your stomach clenched with a fresh wave of guilt, but it was smothered instantly by a hotter, darker wave of desire, stoked by Karina’s ruthless command. You moved behind her, your hands automatically finding the swell of her hips. Her skin was fever-hot under your palms.

You positioned yourself, the head of your aching cock nudging against her slick entrance. You hesitated for a fraction of a second, a last, ghostly flicker of the man you were before this room. It died the instant Karina glanced back over her shoulder, her look a mix of impatience and promised punishment.

You thrust forward, burying yourself inside her in one long, deep stroke. Oh, god. It was different this way. Deeper. More primal. You could see every inch of your length disappear into her, see the way her body stretched to accommodate you. The visual was almost as overwhelming as the feeling.

You set a brutal pace, your hips slamming against the firm flesh of her ass with each drive forward. The room filled with the sound of it—the sharp, rhythmic slap of skin on skin, your ragged grunts, Karina’s low, satisfied moans.

And all the while, your eyes were locked on Minjeong.

You watched a fresh tear trace a path through the dirt on her cheek. You saw the way her jaw worked behind the silver tape, the muffled, heartbroken sounds she made. You saw the absolute devastation in her eyes as she witnessed you, the man she loved, fucking another woman with a raw, animalistic fervor.

Karina saw it too. She reveled in it.

“Look at her,” Karina panted, her voice taunting, meant for both of you. “Look at your precious Minjeong. See what she’s missing? See what I get to have?” She pushed back against you, meeting your thrusts with a fierce hunger. “She could never take you like this. She’s too weak. Too fragile.”

You couldn’t argue. You could only fuck her harder, your fingers digging bruises into her hips, using her body to chase the release that was burning you up from the inside. The conflicted storm inside you—shame, lust, fury, degrading pleasure—was a feedback loop, each thrust amplifying the sensation, driving you further from the past and deeper into Karina’s dark present.

Karina’s moans climbed higher, becoming sharper, more breathless. “Yes! Just like that! Give it to me! Show her what a real man feels like!”

With a final, powerful thrust, you buried yourself to the hilt and held there, your body bowing as your orgasm exploded through you. It was a seizure of pleasure, a blinding white-hot release that ripped a guttural roar from your throat. Your cock pulsed violently inside her, jet after jet of your release emptying deep into her clutching heat. Your vision spotted, your legs trembling violently, threatening to give way.

You were still shuddering through the aftershocks, breathless and spent, when Karina moved. She pushed you back, your softening cock slipping from her, and turned to face you. She grabbed your face with both hands, her grip demanding. Her eyes, dark with triumph and possession, flicked once more to Minjeong before she crushed her lips to yours.

The kiss was not gentle. It was a conquest. Her tongue plunged into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you, mingling the scent of her skin with the taste of your own exertion. It was filthy and dominant and you kissed her back with a desperation that horrified a part of you that was still screaming in the distant recesses of your mind.

She broke the kiss, a thin strand of saliva connecting your lips for a brief second. She was breathing heavily, her own climax clearly having crashed over her during your release. She didn’t even look at you. She looked past you, her gaze fixed on the bound and broken woman across the room. A slow, cruel, mocking smile spread across her beautifully glistening lips.

"Don't worry Minjeong-ah. I will definitely take care of him. I Can't wait to show you, Once i conceived his baby. How perfect i would looked. Ahahahah".