Soft Gf 소설 & 이야기

Everyone in the city knows that Michael Shaw despises me to my core. He even takes pleasure in humiliating me in public at banquets. He sneers, "My family made its fortune through gambling. Nancy Jackson is just a pretty face who can't even recognize all the suits in a deck of cards. Marrying her would be worse than marrying an inflatable doll that at least reacts!" Still, the marriage agreement between our families comes first. On top of that, the fake heiress, who is his true love, can't have children. So, he forces me to gamble with him. "If you lose, I want your womb to bear me a child. You have to get a C-section without anesthesia," he demands cruelly. I've long had enough of him always giving me a hard time. A soft laugh escapes my lips, and I reply, "Fine. If I win, then I want your manhood, Michael." The crowd bursts into laughter. Everyone says that I'm overestimating myself. Everyone knows Michael is the best gambler in the city. I lower my eyes and say nothing. Indeed, he is one of the best. After all, five years ago on a stormy night, I was the one who held those hands and taught him how to cheat for the first time to stay alive.

The room is dimly lit, the air is filled with the smell of sex and alcohol; the guy laying next to the girl is panting heavily. She on the other hand is laying next to him, all curled up; soft whimpers are coming out of her lips. The guy wraps his muscular arms around her waist and pushes her a little away from him. She opens her eyes halfway through and stares at the guy, his hair sticking to his forehead due to the sweat; his dark brown eyes are closed. His sharp features are glistening, when the little rays of the sun hits his face that is coming in through the window. Forwarding her hand, she caresses his thin lower lip with her index finger and closes her eyes. "Get out." He says in a harsh tone from beside her. Her eyes flutter open completely hearing his harsh words; she always thinks why he acts so badly with her? Retracting her hand back to herself she sits up, her lower belly aches in the bitter sweet pain. A groan comes out of her mouth and her hands go straight to on top of her lower belly, to caress it. His clothes and hers are scattered around on the floor. The entire room is a mess, the bed sheet is all crinkled; pillows are off the bed.

In Kieran Chase's eyes, I was not his wife. I was a non-performing asset waiting to be liquidated. When I got sick and asked for help, he became impatient. He said, "This is a minor problem. You can handle it on your own. No need to tell anyone." When I broke down in tears, he reprimanded me. "Losing emotional control shows weakness. It exposes the fragility of our alliance. I'll have the PR team teach you emotional management." Even when I called for help after a car accident, he hung up. "Nothing about you is important enough to interrupt a transaction worth hundreds of millions." I spent seven days in the ICU fighting for my life. On my first day home, I found Kieran leaning over another woman, his voice suddenly soft and coaxing as he convinced her to take her medicine. He opened his mouth to explain. I smiled bitterly and handed him the papers I'd prepared long ago. My tone mirrored his perfectly. "Mr. Chase, regarding our marriage project, the return on investment is unacceptably low after comprehensive evaluation. I'm formally proposing we terminate our cooperation. "Here's the divorce agreement. Sign it."

On the road, I met a woman unlike anyone I had ever seen before. Her name was Janet Smith. She seemed slow and almost childlike, yet she had been wandering alone for two years without ever going home. Even with one leg crippled, she had forced herself to climb the Highveil Mountains. This time, however, she was caught in a blizzard. Injured and stranded, she could no longer make her way down. As her vision blurred and her strength slipped away, tears covered her face. She placed a pair of small handmade clay dolls in my hands. "I'm probably going to die here," she murmured. "Please give these to my adoptive brother, Chester Graham." She was clearly at death's door, yet her smile was soft and unexpectedly serene. "Tell him I've seen enough of the world. I don't love him anymore. And tell him he doesn't need to worry. I'm not so foolish now. I won't cause trouble for anyone again." Chester? At the sound of his name, I stood rooted to the spot. In Riverton City, everyone who worked at the harbor knew him, the so-called Ship King. Right before I left for the mountains, news of his engagement had been everywhere.

Marrying Lucas Darken, son of the wealthiest IT company CEO in the city, was all Taya had dreamed about since their first meeting. But the pride and joy of marrying Lucas turned into a disaster, after Taya discovered the affair Lucas had been hiding. To her surprise, the girl Lucas had been having an affair with was none other than her so called best friend. Damaged, Taya tried hard to cover her unbearable pain, but deep inside, she swore that Lucas would suffer way worse than she did. Being drained mentally and emotionally, Taya eventually decided to leave her bitter life behind, moving away to a small town, hoping for a new adventure all her own. Her journey led to her meeting the attractively secretive Declan Mercer, a man with deep deep pocket, who changed Taya's life completely. Declan helped with her transformation from a meek, soft spoken, heart-broken girl, into a tough, blunt woman. However, as Taya got closer to Declan, she learned that he was in fact the most feared mob boss in history. Further, with Lucas' reappearance and Declan claiming Taya to be his one and only, along with Ella showing up that she dragged Taya through another level of hell, could Taya survive this time?

“I-I’m near, Zamir. Something is about to… come.” Claudia pierced a soft moan ahead of time. The man’s lips twitched into a curve. “For the next thirty days, I won’t let my maids clean the bathroom.” Claudia’s softest voice warmth Zamir’s heart. “Why?” “Your fingerprints are all over the place. I want to keep all your traces because thinking about you is making me feel aroused real good, Claudia.” *** Claudia Woods was a third year pre-med student. She wanted to be a Doctor due to her grandmother who was sick yet she has no control on the situations and casualties entering their lives. Unfortunately, her grandmother was diagnosed with a terminal disease and Claudia was forced to stop studying and just focused on working. Not until an unfortunate event occured, her grandmother died and the loan sharks were running after her. Yet destiny was a playful one. Claudia met the handsome Greek God-looking Zamir Trian Cassano, a person who will be a huge instrument that will change her life entirely. She thought that Zamir was just a normal person who had a lot of securities in his mansion yet as time goes by, Claudia soon found out the vicious man’s identity, leaving her a lot of doubts, horrific experiences along with his dark past and scars buried six-feet below the ground.

I was a violin prodigy. But to pay my mother’s debts, I was forced to give up everything. That’s when I met the man who would own me: Dante Moretti. He was the king of New York's underworld. The Don of the Moretti family. With a single phone call, fortunes were made. With a single glance, blood was spilled. The world didn't just bend to his will—it broke. And on that day… what he wanted was me. He gave me a five-year contract. A penthouse in a skyscraper overlooking all of New York. More jewels and gowns than I could count. Every night he needed me, I’d put on whatever lacy thing he picked out. We’d have sex. Five years. 999 times. There were moments—his sweat dripping on my forehead, his soft breaths inside me, the way he’d look at me—when I let myself dream he loved me. Then the video dropped. Him. On the street. Kissing another woman. I knew the truth. He was my keeper, not my lover. Everyone laughed. They couldn't wait to see me lose my mind, begging him to keep me. Instead, I turned my back on him. And married another man.

Okay, this story’s called My Model, and it starts pretty chill. Soo Ah’s just this regular art student, kind of awkward but sweet, and he needs someone to model for his class project. So, out of nowhere, he asks Devin—the quiet, serious guy with black hair, always dressed sharp, who gives off a mafia-ish vibe but still somehow shows up to school every day like it's normal. Soo Ah didn’t expect him to say yes. But Devin just looks at him and goes, “Be your model? Sigh... What a kid. I like you, though.” And boom. Now they’re meeting every other day, Soo Ah sketching with his ears red, and Devin pretending he’s not secretly enjoying the attention. It’s awkward, cute, and honestly? A little flirty. They don’t even realize how close they’re getting until one day, Devin asks, “You seriously want me to keep doing this?” And Soo Ah—nervous, but brave—just says, “Yeah. I like you.” So yeah, it’s a slow-burn, school-life BL. Funny, soft, and a little messy. But it’s about two boys figuring things out through art, teasing, and a whole lot of quiet moments that start to feel like something more.

On our wedding anniversary, I wanted to drive out and buy a cake to celebrate. But the moment I got into the car, I noticed the driver's seat had been pushed forward. There were also a few bread crumbs scattered inside. I called my husband. "Has anyone been driving my car lately?" His voice carried unmistakable guilt. "My cousin borrowed it yesterday for the whole day. Why?" His cousin was six-foot-three—twice my size. More importantly, he was severely allergic to wheat and avoided pastries like the plague. I let out a soft laugh, hung up, and drove straight to the bakery my husband had been frequenting lately. Inside, a sweet-looking girl was chatting and giggling with her coworker. "So what if I'm short? I have to move the seat all the way forward when I drive, but at least someone spoils me!" The moment she saw me, her carefree smile vanished, replaced by panic. I crossed my arms and tilted my head as I looked at her. Lucas had always told me I was too tall—not quite his preferred type. Looks like he'd finally found himself a petite little lover.

“Spread your legs wider. Let me see how wet you are for someone you’re supposed to hate.” One hundred nights. One hundred different men who know exactly how to ruin you. This isn’t romance. This isn’t love. This is the kind of filthy, depraved shit you think about when you’re alone with your hand between your legs and nobody’s watching. Stepbrothers who corner you in the shower. Priests who bend you over the altar. Mafia dons who take what they want and leave you begging for more. The coach who swore he’d never touch you - until he did. Every forbidden scenario you’ve ever fantasized about, raw and unapologetic. No soft touches. No gentle whispers. Just rough hands, dirty words, and the kind of orgasms that leave you shaking. Fair warning: This collection doesn’t hold back. Choking. Spanking. Public degradation. Forced orgasms. Breeding kinks. If you need your erotica sweet and romantic, this isn’t it. But if you want to be fucked six ways from Sunday by men who don’t ask permission - they take it… Pick a night. Any night. You won’t be the same when it’s over.