My daily love life with my cute girlfriend - Chapter 83 Bite

Lacking a pocket dimension, lacking a power, lacking a thigh to hug onto and the three life advantages (money, power, and looks), he had been cautiously living in the apocalypse for ten years, getting closer to falling inside the zombie’s mouths. But unexpectedly, he had the terrible luck, to be caught in a fight between two gangs and die, it really left people feeling disappointed.

The system asked: “What happened to the slag man?”
Bei Yu Tang answered: “Destroyed.”
The system asked again: “What happened to the boss?”
Bei Yu Tang immediately ran away!
Whether abuse of slag male or white lotus, she, Bei Yu Tang is very skilled.
But regarding abusing the boss, forget it!
Big BOSS’s fighting power is too strong, for small shrimp like her, it is still the best policy.
She did not want to destroy the boss, but was destroyed by the boss.
BOSS lord: “Wife, who do you want to destroy, let your husband do it.”
Bei Yu Tang excitedly replied: “System monarch.”
System: (face filled with tears and dead … …)
[Story of pampering, 1v1, Straightforward story, Easy and humorous]

- Description from 69shu translation

He was supposed to be just a guardian.But love doesn’t follow rules.After losing his mother, 18-year-old Kai finds himself under the roof of his cold, powerful stepfather, Sebastian Vaughn. What begins as silence turns into lingering glances, late-night tension, and a love Kai can’t run from—even if he tries.But Bast isn’t just any man. He’s possessive, broken, and hiding dangerous secrets… including an ex-lover who wants to destroy everything. As feelings grow, so do the risks.How do you escape a man who says he’s your everything—your father, protector, friend… and lover?

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.