Apocalypse King: Recruiting S-Tier Beauties With My Ruler System -
Chapter 124: Soft Shadows, Warm Mouths
Chapter 124: Soft Shadows, Warm Mouths
John (POV)
March 18th, 20xx — 9:17 PM
Zone 3A-Δ – Ninth Floor – Stairwell Access
———
The floor was quiet.
Not just low-traffic quiet. It was that deep, new quiet — the kind you only got when thirty-plus survivors were fed, sorted, and finally off your back for one damn hour.
Shen Yifei walked beside me without saying much.
She didn’t need to.
She’d stayed behind after the meeting, helped the younger ones get settled, even checked the locks on the stairwell doors as if someone could climb in through the upgraded windows that only opened for select people now.
But I appreciated her efforts.
Sharp.
Efficient.
Still perched on the edge of smug.
We reached the stair access between the ninth and tenth floors — my floor.
Her steps slowed.
So did mine.
I turned, but she didn’t look at me.
Not at first.
"Hey."
"...Yeah?"
She scratched at her arm once. Shifted her weight from foot to foot. Then huffed like someone forcing themselves through a cold shower.
Then she moved in and hugged me.
No warning.
No words.
Just arms around my chest, head against my shoulder, her breath warm against my neck.
"...You’re warm," she muttered.
I didn’t move.
Since the past day or two, our relationship had changed—it was some sort of strange situation between friends and lovers. But I was also guiding and teaching her how to fight and deal with the conditions outside.
So I let her lean against me, my hands stroking her fluffy twintails...
Then, quietly:
"Goodnight hug?" I asked.
"Don’t read into it," she mumbled.
"Too late."
She pulled back slightly — just enough to tilt her chin up.
There was a flicker in her eyes. Yifei seemed to like it when I went against her tsundere act sometimes, though I needed to be sure and couldn’t go too far.
But she looked happy, gazing up at me before closing her eyes.
Then, barely above a whisper:
"...Can I get a kiss goodnight?"
That surprised me.
Not because she asked.
But because her voice was softer than I’d ever heard it.
"Sure..."
I leaned closer, my thumb lifting her chin, she opening her eyes slightly, causing her long lashes to tickle my face as they fluttered.
Then I kissed her. No tongue, no heat, just lips meeting lips. Soft. Close. Just long enough to taste the cherry sweet she was sucking a few moments ago... the sticky warmth of her lips and saliva.
When I pulled back, her cheeks were pink.
So I smirked.
"Want another?"
She blinked. Then shoved me lightly, but with a spark in her eye.
"Pervert."
"Still asking though."
"Still letting you."
However, despite her little action, she rushed towards me and grabbed my shoulders, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissed me again.
"Nnnph...!"
Yifei’s soft tongue slipped through my lips, sticky, warm and delicious. The softness of her lips pressed against mine as she sucked on them.
Her kiss deepened.
Wet, sticky, desperate.
Yifei’s tongue slid against mine—hesitant at first, then hungrier, tasting me like she’d waited too long to ask. Her lips sucked at mine softly, clumsily, each sound wetter than the last. I felt her breath catch, then shudder against my cheek.
Her body pressed up, chest crushed to mine, her fingers locked tight around my neck.
"Nnph..."
The sound slipped from her throat, quiet and startled, like she didn’t expect her own body to want this.
I pulled back slightly.
Her lips stayed parted, glazed in spit and cherry sweetness. Her eyes were dazed.
I smirked again.
"You still want another?"
Yifei didn’t answer.
I leaned my forehead to hers.
"That didn’t feel like a goodnight kiss," I murmured.
She bit her lip.
Then rolled her eyes and turned away — but I saw the pink still dusting her cheeks.
"Shut up."
"You’re not denying it."
"I’m not letting you win."
"Then I’ll have to try harder next time."
"Don’t let Qinglan tire you out too much. You’ve still got patrol tomorrow."
"Yes, ma’am."
"I’m not your ma’am."
"No, but you could be."
Her face went red.
"Just go already, idiot."
She didn’t answer — just flicked her twintails as she walked back toward her room on the ninth floor.
And for once?
She didn’t slam the door behind her.
——
By the time I stepped onto the tenth floor, the lights were low — a gentle blue glow painting shadows across the walls.
Mu Qinglan stirred under the sheets, hair spilling like ink across my pillow.
She lifted her head just enough to see me.
And smiled.
"...Took you long enough."
I crept inside with bare toes against the warm tiles.
The door closed behind me with a soft hiss, and the sound of the world faded again.
Mu Qinglan didn’t rise fully. She stayed there, curled under my sheets, naked except for the twisted fabric draped across her lower hips. The room smelled faintly of her shampoo, mixed with the subtle musk of skin and spent sweat.
My bed still smelled like her climax from earlier.
"You’re still awake?" I asked, half-teasing.
She rolled to her side, cheek pressing to the pillow.
"Barely," she mumbled.
Then, quieter:
"But I didn’t want to sleep without you."
That stopped me for a second.
Because the Mu Qinglan I knew, and the one in my bed looked completely different, and it made me shocked, now I wondered how Yifei and Roulan might change if we went all the way—would they become softer... or more fierce?
Qinglan’s desire wasn’t all heat and fire. It was fire after the storm — the kind that warmed your bones when you weren’t sure you’d survive the cold.
I stripped my shirt and stepped toward the bed. Then pulled back the corner of the blanket and slid inside, but Qinglan’s body moved instantly like a predator. She then hooked around me like an octopus, using her arms to catch my chest and thighs to seal my legs.
Mu Qinglan sniffed my body—then, using her long tongue, she licked my lips... still wet from the kiss with Yifei.
"Hmm? Did you kiss someone else?"
There was no jealousy in her voice.
Just understanding.
"I did," I said.
A pause.
Then, softly:
"Did she like it?"
"She kissed me again after."
Qinglan chuckled against my throat. "Tch... sounds about right."
Her fingers traced small circles on my chest.
"I’m not angry," she added. "But if she starts leaving hickeys somewhere visible, I’ll put a knife between her ribs."
I laughed under my breath.
"You’re not that possessive."
"I’m cultivating now," she said dryly. "I’m allowed one delusion."
I kissed the crown of her head and let my arms settle around her.
For a few moments, neither of us said anything.
But then...
"Hey, John...?"
"Yeah?"
Her voice was low. Drowsy and dangerous.
Her fingers traced the line of my waistband, playing with the edge like she was testing silk between her fingers.
"You still have energy, right?"
I looked down. Her face was half-buried in my chest, lips curled in the smallest, laziest smile I’d ever seen from her.
"Was that a challenge?"
"It was a question."
"Same answer either way."
She hummed, soft and warm against my skin.
"Good," she whispered.
Then, without asking, she slid the band of my waistband down just enough to free me. Her hand moved with care, guiding me. Her legs shifted slowly, parting, inviting. And then... she lowered herself.
I sucked in a breath through my teeth.
Warm. Tight. Alive.
Qinglan exhaled like it was nothing.
Her hips sank fully, skin pressing flush to mine.
She didn’t gasp. Didn’t moan.
She just smiled.
"You’re still hard from her," she whispered, voice brushing my ear. "That’s fine."
Her hands locked behind my neck. Her thighs curled around my waist. She shifted her hips just once, slowly, deliberately. Her body adjusted to mine like it had been made for this.
"Mm... she made you sweet," Qinglan said, kissing the corner of my mouth. Her tongue grazed my lip, playful—taunting.
"But I’ll make you empty."
I growled low in my throat, catching her hips just as she began to grind down.
"You think you’re still in charge?" I murmured.
Her breath hitched—barely.
But I felt it.
She was slick. Already pulsing around me, her insides hot and soaked from anticipation, not control. Her body trembled just from having me buried this deep.
"You’re too sensitive for games tonight," I whispered, dragging my hands up her back, gripping her hard enough to make her flinch.
She opened her mouth to protest—then gasped.
I rolled my hips upward, slow but deep, forcing her to stretch, the head of my tip pushing into her again, harder now. She shook above me, her lips falling open in a soft cry she didn’t mean to make.
"John—!"
"I told you," I said, lifting her hips and thrusting again, reaching her depths with a wet slap. "You weren’t ready."
Her nails dug into my chest.
The bed rocked and squeaked as the night drew closer.
Time passed, and her body shivered once, then gave out.
She slumped against me, breath warm against my throat, her chest still rising and falling like she couldn’t quite catch up to what just happened. I didn’t move. Just held her there.
Her thighs stayed tight around my waist. Skin flushed. Lips parted. Her weight pressed into me like she belonged there.
"...I hate how full you make me, and how good this feels," she whispered, voice hoarse and tired.
I couldn’t help but kiss her forehead gently, before I pulled the blankets over us both, the dismantle skill worked wonders... able to remove the mess.
"You’ll hate it again in the morning."
She laughed—quiet, tired, happy.
"I look forward to it, hmmm... this is so nice."
Then curled into me like she belonged there.
Outside, the building creaked in the wind.
But inside, it was warm and felt amazingly soft.
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