#information a client may need

[a-soft-fluffy-girl]

TL;DR: Steam just made library sharing so much fucking easier and so much fucking better. Instead of login-trading, it's just a simple goddamn invite.

Read this. Really. It's a good read. Because it shows that, full-stop, Valve isn't just doubling down on their stance to make sure that people can and should be able to share their copies of digital goods as easily as they can physical ones, but they're making it better and easier than ever.

But you know how Steam allowed you to, with either friends or family, link accounts with another person to be able to establish an ability to share game libraries with one another? The general gist of Steam Family Sharing was that, with a limit of five people plus you (six in total) on a limit of ten computers total could share account access to willingly mix your libraries. You could play theirs. They could play yours.

This was a huge boon. It was meant to emulate sharing a physical copy of a game. A way to allow children to play games their parents or siblings had bought without having to fork over double the cash to buy it a second game. But it had some major limitations and drawbacks, and was archaic to use.

If a person did not share the same computer, you had to manually log into that computer to give it and the accounts on it access. This wouldn't be a problem if both accounts were used on the same computer, but many households (and astronomically more family and friend groups) had multiple computers, all used by different people.

If that computer, at any point, was hard reset to any point before the sharing occurred, you lost access. And had to do the whole process again. This was also an issue with computer transfers. The whole kit and kaboodle needed to be redone on upgrades. On top of that, the old computer is now just dead weight that you may not realize you have to manually revoke access to.

Putting your account information on another person's computer opens up security issues. They could, intentionally or accidentally, land themselves on your account if the login information was stored. Which could easily lead to purchases or bans you did not want to happen.

If anyone was, at any point, playing any game on their own library, you had no access to their games. Even if it was a totally different game, you had to wait your turn as if waiting for their computer to be freed up to sit at. (Admittedly this is kind of like the "mom said it's my turn on the xbox" meme, but hey, kinda archaic.)

You could not choose whose library you accessed a game from. Not at all. It always prioritized the first library it gained access from, DLC access and multiplayer be damned. If another friend you were accepting games from had more DLC? Too bad.

And yet here we are. Steam Families Beta fixes EVERYTHING about the above issues. By just going through Settings > Interface > client Beta Participation and clicking onto Steam Families Beta? You get:

No more login sharing. No more computer links. You can now choose which person's library you borrowed from. And you can play any other game from someone's library, even while they're in-game. It just needs to be a different game than what they're playing.

Pick five people. Invite them to your family. And now everyone has access to everyone's library. My goddamn library went from 150-ish to almost a goddamn thousand in ten minutes of setup.

Account sharing and password sharing are dirty words that "lose" billions of dollars. Netflix, Hulu, Amazon, Max. They aren't game storefronts, but they still allow you to access massive libraries and scream like you murdered their firstborns for daring to share your password with your mother after you moved out.

Microsoft tried pushing to demonize and undercut used games sales and borrowed copies of physical games. Remember the first attempt to reveal the Xbox One? People forget, but these vultures tried to make an always online console that checked to see if you were the account that owned the game, even if you had a physical disc, and prevent access to the disc's contents if you weren't the original downloader.

Valve walked the fuck up. Valve tapped the mic. And Valve dropped the fucking thing right onto the ground with one feature's revamp.

About the only issues I can see with this are twofold:

If someone sharing your library gets banned from a game's servers... so do you. No one else in the family does, but the both of you do. This is... rather unpleasant, because banhammers can be dropped quite frequently by mistake. I'd urge Valve to rethink this one, but I see the logic: don't cheat and effectively bite the hand feeding you. Still making me side-eye that, though.

If you leave a family you've joined? You have to wait a YEAR to join a new one. It's to prevent people form jumping ship to another group and screwing over who's in the former one in the process, but a YEAR? OUCH.

Problems aside, though... it's probably the biggest fucking power move I have ever seen a media distributor make in the current economic climate. It's the kind of thing that would let so many new games be available in a way that's easier than ever. Just a few clicks to send or accept an invite, and bam. Permanent access to dozens or even hundreds of new games with so much more freedom than earlier drafts of the system.

It's the kind of thing that slaps you in the face with positivity after so many Ls from the games and media industries. And I'm all the fuck for a W like this.

[gcabestva]

Asset for being a Virtual Assistant

Virtual assistants are the backbone of many businesses. They provide administrative and clerical support to companies, allowing their clients to focus on their core business activities. While many people think that being a virtual assistant is just answering emails and making phone calls, there's much more to it than that! A great virtual assistant will have excellent time management skills, multitask while simultaneously keeping track of several projects, and pay good attention to detail when organizing information or documents.

Virtual Assistant Skills

You need a few skills to be a virtual assistant, but they can be learned. The most important thing is the ability to type quickly and accurately. You will also need excellent communication skills to communicate clearly with your clients and colleagues.

As far as customer service representatives go, there are several different types of positions available in this field: answering phones, processing orders or taking messages for customers who call in; helping customers find products through catalogs or websites; resolving complaints from customers (whether through refunds or exchanges); providing information about company policies or other issues related to using its services; researching solutions for problems outside regular working hours when necessary.

Being a virtual assistant is an excellent asset for those looking to make money from home.

Many benefits come with being a VA, including:

Flexible schedule - VAs can set their hours and work around their lives, so you can choose when they want to work and how much time they want to put into it each day. You may even be able to work while traveling!

Work from anywhere - Because most of our clients are located in different places worldwide, we need an office or other physical location where everyone works together daily. Instead, we communicate via email and phone, so we can all be in one place at a time (which would be expensive!). This makes it easy for people who don't have access yet and have wanted it since childhood.

Time Management Skills

Time management skills are essential for a virtual assistant, and it's your job to know how much time you have each day and prioritize tasks accordingly. It would help if you learned how to say no and when it's okay to say yes.

For example: If an opportunity will take up half of your day and doesn't bring in any money, it may not be worth taking on right now (or ever). You should focus on completing the most important tasks first so they don't get pushed back due to lack of time later on!

Organization Skills

Organizational skills are essential for any business professional. You'll need to be able to multitask, prioritize your tasks, and manage your time effectively. If you have this skill set, it will help ensure that you meet deadlines and complete projects promptly.

Customer Service Skills

You will need excellent customer service skills to succeed as a virtual assistant. You must understand your client's needs and respond to their requests promptly. You'll also need to handle questions and requests positively, solve problems and provide solutions.

Attention to Detail

Attention to detail is an essential asset for being a virtual assistant. You must listen closely and pay attention to your client's words because they may only sometimes express themselves clearly. You also have to understand the details of their project or task, which may involve researching information online or referencing documents they send you.

Finally, attention to detail can help you notice when something has gone wrong with their project--for example, if they didn't receive an email when it was sent out (or vice versa).

Virtual assistants are excellent for those looking to make money from home. If you have the right skills and can manage your time well, this could be a great opportunity! Global Conversion Agency has a lot to offer. 

[budgetaryinterior]

Your Comprehensive Guide To The Best Interior Designers In Mumbai

[erika-xero]

Beware, the long post incoming. Pro tips for artists who work on commissions!

DISCLAIMER: I do not have, like, a HUGE online following and can’t be called a popular or viral artist, but I do have some experience and I’ve been working as a freelance artist for more that five years, so I could share a few tips on how to work with clients with my fellow artists. Scroll down for the short summary!

First of all, you always need to have your Terms of Service written down in a document that is accessible for your potential clients. And by terms of service I don’t mean a set of rules like “I don’t draw mecha, anthro and N/S/F/W”. There is much more into it, than you may think when you first start drawing commissions.

You’ll need to understand how copyright law/author’s rights in your country works (for example, US copyright or Russian author’s rights, be sure to check your local resources). There are a bunch of sites where you can actually read some legal documents (. I know it might be boring, but TRUST me, you WILL need this knowledge if you choose this career path.

Russia, for example, is plagued with shops selling anime merchandise. The merchandise is usually printed somewhere in the basement of the shop and the shop owners literally rip off other people’s intellectual property. If the artist ask them to remove their IP from the shop the owners usually try to fool them with lies about how the IP works. They will tell you, that you have to register copyright on every single drawing and if you don’t do it anyone can reproduce and sell your artwork. In reality, copyright law in most countries simply doesn’t work this way. Once you create an original work and fix it, take a photograph, write a song or blog entry, paint an artwork, you already are the author and the owner. Yes, there are certain procedures of copyright registration, which is only a step to enhance the protection, but you become an author the very moment you create a piece of art, and no one have a right to take your creation from you. Knowing your rights is essential.

Some of your commissioners may try to scam you too, but most of them might simply not be aware of how copyright law works. I literally had people asking me questions whether or not the character I am commissioned to draw becomes MY intellectual property. I literally had to convince the person (who was legit scared, since the commissioned piece was going to be a first image of his character ever created) otherwise. If you have an idea of the character written down or fixed in any other form such as a collage, a sketch, or a concept art -- the character is yours. Artist may have rights to the image they create, but not the character itself. Your potential commissioner must acknowledge that their characters, settings and etc. is still theirs, while your artwork is yours, if your contract doesn’t state otherwise. You can sell the property rights on your artwork to your commissioner if you want, but it is unnecessary for non-commercial commissions. And I strongly advice you to distinguish the non-commercial commissions from commercial ones and set the different pricing for them. Even if you sell ownership of your artwork to your commissioner, you can not sell the authorship. You will always remain an author of your artwork, thus you still have all the author’s rights stated in the legal documents.

Another thing that is absolutely necessary to be stated in your terms of service is information whether (and when) it is possible to get a refund from you. You absolutely have to write it down: no. refunds. for finished. artworks.

You have already invested time and effort to finish an artwork. The job is done and the money is yours. I’ve heard stories of commissioners demanding refund a few months later after the commission was finished and approved by the commissioners, because, quote “I do not want it anymore”. Commissioning an artist doesn’t work this way, artwork is not an item purchased on shein or aliexpress that can be sent back to the seller. It is not a mass production. It is a unique piece of art. Example: My friend once drew a non-commercial commission for a client who tried to use it commercially later on. She contacted him and reminded of the Terms of Service he agreed with, offering him to pay a fee for commercializing the piece instead of taking him to the court or starting a drama. He declined and suddenly demanded a full refund for that commission via Paypal services. My friend contacted the supports and showed them the entire correspondence with that client. She also stated that the invoice he paid included a link to the Terms and Service he had to agree with if he pays that invoid. The money were returned to her.

However, partial refund can be possible at the certain stage of work. For example, the sketch is done, but something goes horribly wrong. Either the client appeared to be a toxic person, or an artist does not have a required skill to finish the job. I suggest you keep the money for the sketch, but refund the rest of the sum. It might be 50/50 like I suggested to my clients before (when I still could work with Paypal), but it really depends on your choise. I suggest not doing a full refund though for many reasons: not only you make yourself vulnerable, but you also might normalize a practice harmful to other artists this way.

The main reason why full refund when the sketch/line-art are done must not be an option is that some clients may commission other artists with lower prices to finish the job. This brings us to the next important point: you absolutely need to forbid your clients from altering, coloring or overpainting your creation or commission other artists to do so. This also protects your artwork from being cropped, changed with Instagram filters or even being edited into a N/S/F/W image. Speaking of which. If you create adult content, you absolutely need to state that to request such a commission, your commissioner must at least be 18/21 years old (depending on your country). And as for the SFW commissions you also have to state that if someone underage commissions an artwork from you it is automatically supposed that they have a parental concern.

There is also a popular way to scam artist via some payment systems, called I-did-not-receive-a-package. Most of the payment systems automatically suppose that you sell goods which have to be physically delivered via postal services. This is why it is important to state (both in the Terms of Service and the payment invoice itself) that what commissioner is about to receive is a digital good.

And the last, but not the least: don’t forget about alterations and changes the commissioner might want to make on the way. Some people do not understand how difficult it may be to make a major change in the artwork when it is almost finished. Always let your commissioners know that all the major changes are only acceptable at early stages: sketch, line-art, basic coloring. Later on, it is only possible to make the minor ones. I prefer to give my commissioner’s this info in private emails along with the WIPs I send, but you can totally state it in your Terms of Service. I do not limit the changes to five or three per commission, but I really do appreciate it when I get all the necessary feedback in time.

To sum this post up, the info essential for your Terms of Service doc is:

- The information on whether or not your commissions are commercial or non-commercial. If they are non-commercial, is there a way to commercialize them? At what cost?

- The information on author’s and commissioner’s rights;

- The information on whether (and when) refunds are possible;

- The prohibition of coloring, cropping, overpainting and other alterations;

- The information on whether or not you provide the commissioner with some physical goods or with digital goods only;

- Don’t forget about your commissioner’s age! If you work with client who is a minor, a parental consern is required. And no n/s/f/w for underage people!

- You may also want to include that you can refuse to work on the commission without explanation in case you encounter a toxic client or feel like it might be some sort of scam.

- I also strongly suggest you work with prepay, either full or 50% of total sum, it usually scares off the scammers. I take my prepay after me and my client agree on a rough doodle of an overall composition.

- I also include the black list of the themes: everyting offensive imaginable (sexism, homophobia, transfobia, racism, for N/S/F/W artists it also might be some certain fetishes and etc). Keep your reputation clean!

- Ban N/F/T and blacklist the commissioners who turn your artworks into them anywayss, don’t be shy <3

These are the things that are absolutely necessary but are so rarely seen in artists’ Terms of Service that it makes me sad. Some of these tips really helped me to avoid scams and misunderstandings. I really hope it helps you all!

[bitterchocoo]

Can you do Boothill with a male reader who has the abilities of Absolute Solver from murder drones

Male reader went missing after the ICP destroyed Boothill's homeland. Many years later, Boothill and the other met male reader but male reader already got possessed by the Solver

I want an angst with a happy ending story please

Absolute

Boothill | M. Reader as the Absolute Solver [Murder Drones]

----------

"The flesh demands invitation."

----------

"What are you doing all smiling like that?"

"Huh? Oh nothing."

[Name] narrowed his eyes at Boothill's words, not believing it. He says it was nothing, but his scans say otherwise. The other can't help but laugh at [Name] expression, those neon [Color] eyes that narrowed on his visor. "I was just thinking about what to get my daughter."

"I see, got any ideas yet?"

"I'm thinking..."

Without saying anything else, [Name]'s visor changes to that of a shopping list. "Well there are countless gifts you could get from across the galaxy so—"

"Wait wait wait!"

His visor glitches and goes back to normal. [Name] looked at Boothill for a second seemingly confused. What was that about?

"I want to make it special."

"Oohh.." [Name] blurred out as he finally understands. "If you're going to handmade it. I could help if you like."

"Heh, thanks [Name]."

For as long as he knows [Name], the robot is a kind person who's happy to help those in need. He was a joy. Everyone was. Everyone on his home planet was a joy, like a small neighborhood. Everyone gets along with one another, there's rarely any conflict it's just a nice and welcoming place. Home.

Therefore [Name] didn't deserve this, none of them deserved this. It's outrageous. What did they do? What kind of sin did they commit to have on this planet. Their home. Destroyed in such a way.

As Boothill look at the surrounding fire and destruction of his home, he began to search around the area. Any place he thinks people will be at. Anywhere.

There are at least survivors right? Surely there are some people who survived this.. who saw the attack an immediately run towards a safe place.. surely..

Right..?

But nothing..

Boothill find nothing but ashes and ruins of once someone's home.

Everything..

..is destroyed.

Why.. why does this have to happen? He was happy. They were happy! What did they do to deserve this?

SCREW THE IPC!!

----------

"Upgrading models? cutting maintenance costs? There are many reasons the client may wish to disassemble a drone individual or a series after a period of use. Following these two simple steps is key to avoid—"

"Incompletely disassemble drones may occasionally reboot from software death alone. More than undead federal fine hazards. Its corrupted AI carries an increased risk of future errors."

.

.

.

He stood there completely motionless. How is he supposed to react to that? After so many years...

Staying at the Express may be the best call for him. It's a free ride after all. Not to mention everyone is quite nice. Dan Heng was even willing to show him the Data Bank but...

This is one of them..? One of the information they've obtained during their travels? Don't get him wrong, it's useful, incredibly useful. But... if Boothill were to obtain such knowledge long ago..

He would have properly disassembled him.

To prevent such a fate from happening to someone he holds in high regards. If he were to do that... none of this would have happened!!

He—it screeches as it tries to get out of its restraints. That's not him. That's not [Name]!!

This was just another planet. One where the Nameless has set their sights on. They thought it was just another Stellaron Crisis. But... this is not the work of a Stellaron.. but the work of a drone that's not been properly disassembled.

It continues to screech as the researchers expose the drone to the artificial sunlight. It screeches in pain and agony as the researchers run around, trying to put a stop to this... thing..

He can't watch this.. he can't watch this any longer.

Without saying another word Boothill leave the Cathedral to get some fresh air. He can't. He just can't watch that.. whatever they were doing to someone he cared for.

----------

"MacGuffin." The robotic voice echoes throughout an empty.. bloody.. ruined.. Cathedral.

Is this the type of thing the Nameless has to handle? Not the Absolute Solver no no... Fighting for your muddle fudgling life! Dodging an attack Boothill ready his revolver and shoot the claw-like thing.

It laughs at their attempts. It's six against one and yet they're losing how pathetic! "Thank you for the new host." It stated casually before narrowing avoiding an attach by Himeko's laser with a smirk on it's face the Solver summons it's claws once more and began it's onslaught of attacks. In a blink of an eye, all of them experience multiple near death situations left, right, and center. Fighting someone who can regenerate is cheating! They could be here for all of eternity!

Where's the cure!?

Its perpetual grin seems to widen every time any of them try to harm it which of course never worked as the Solver's regeneration rate is incredibly high. It laughs, summoning a miniature blackhole that was quickly disabled by Welt as he attack the Solver. "Have any of you find it get?" "No, we're still looking!" March replied, firing an arrow at one of it's claws while looking around for the crucifix that holds the data. The cure for the Solver. "Well I'm sorry, but fighting while searching is not easy!" Caelus cuts in, looking around the place as he ducks under the benches to avoid a stray attack. "Just focus on searching, we'll try to cover you!" Dan Heng stated firmly, using his powers as a  Vidyadhara to at least land a critical attack on the Solver.

With each attack the Solver just keep regenerating! But each time they themselves is inching closer to their own demise! Boothill took cover as he reload his bullets while looking at his surroundings for any potential threats. But something else caught his eye..

It's the crucifix!

Quickly taking it from the bloody floor, Boothill examine it for a moment, making sure it's the real deal. After a quick and swift examination, the usb connector pops out at the bottom of it. It's real alright. The cure for the Solver and the key to ending this nightmare.

"Cover for me!" He signaled before making a run for it. The Nameless did their best to keep the Solver at bay until Boothill does the finishing blow and slammed the crucifix usb model straight into the drone's visor and just like clockwork it let out a glitched robotic groan as it tries to take out the crucifix and in its efforts the cure done it's job. Motionlessly throws crucifix away the drone immediately slump to the floor.

Looking amongst themselves, the Nameless stood their ground not knowing whether the fight is over or is the Solver playing tricks on them. With caution Boothill slowly approached his old friend. Surely he's still there right? The Solver is dead. The patch worked! It has to work! Or else it....

Kneeling in front of him Boothill extended his hand. Waiting for a respond from the other. Anything! Much to their surprise the drone took the other's hand, slowly looking up, revealing it's---no, his neon [Color] eyes on his visor while the crack where they inserted the patch is slowly being healed. Yes! It worked! Letting out a dry, pained laugh Boothill gave [Name] a tight embrace. He's back. His old friend's back.

[dsybouquet]

.. so what if u actually texted ceo! ellie ?

(read how it started here !<3)

you only left the bar after all chairs have been put up the floor was mopped cleanly and all customers have been (more or less) kicked out. your leather jacket covered the short work clothes you wore as you walk through the dark streets.

you for sure were freezing, but your home isn’t all too far. the empty streets where some what soothing. it was peaceful and quiet with only a couple of cars passing by.

when you entered your apartment, you dropped your little bag to the ground and took off your shoes. of course you had a long day ahead at uni and you knew for sure that if you don’t fall asleep right away, you will simply ignore 99% percent of your lectures. why, out of all mayors, did you choose psychology?

quietly, you dropped onto your couch and turned on the tv. with family guy playing in the background, you mindlessly scrolled though your social media accounts - despite you knowing that being sleep deprived will literally be the death of you.

all of the sudden you thoughts started to run. why did that ellie woman have such a chokehold on you? it’s not like you didn’t have plenty of people right on your doorstep. being a young barkeeper already arranged you all types of things and plenty of numbers.

but something about was different. she was so.. different.

or maybe it was just you being delusional about a woman a bit too beautiful. or maybe it was her flirty behaviour that made you nearly lose your mind.

either way she was all you thought about, and you only knew her for a couple of hours. you threw your phone aside covering you face with your hands.

“get a hold on yourself, ______.”

you told yourself. you were so delusional.

ellie was probably just a woman with too much money that went around and tried to be some what kind. but why was she being so.. gentle?

calling you a pretty girl and dear..

god you were losing your mind over her.

your eyes landed on your phone. the bill with her number on still plugged into your see-through case.

maybe you could try your luck..

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

“are you kidding me?”

ellie exclaimed when she entered her office the next morning and found one of her managers sitting in front of her.

“jesse, what the fuck?!”

she took off her coat and put it on her hanger.

“calm down.”

jessie tried to help ellie contain her anger, but the young woman was about to snap.

she woke up late, she was still tired, spilled her coffee on her way to her car and was stuck in traffic. and now jesse is trying to tell her that one of his agents fucked up with one of her most important clients? leaked confidential data?

she was not having it.

“calm down ? oh i am calm, jesse.”

ellie pulled a cigarette out of her pockets and light it up. she knew the consequences, the visits with her lawyer. and she knew she had to kick this agent out. slowly, she blew out the smoke of her cigarette.

“action plan, now.”

jesse lifted his hands up in air, trying to defend himself.

“kick h-“

“exactly. i will remove all his accesses. i will call our lawyer and he needs to someone, and i don’t care who but i’d prefer authorities, to check all of his private devices for internal information.”

while she was talking, she unlocked her computer and got onto work. ellie exhaled the smoke of her cigarette and looked at jesse.

the man in front of her sighed. jesse was sad to let this agent go, but after all he will be heavily impacted either way.

“what are you waiting for?”

“aye. see you for a coffee later?”

though ellie was his supervisor, they still were sort of friends.

ellie just scoffed - which in her being stressed language basically meant “yeah. now piss off.” - and waved goodbye before putting herself onto it.

hours and hours passed by, phone calls with her lawyer, phone calls with the client, phone calls with authorities - she was so sick of it by now.

leaning back in her overly comfortable office chair, she turned it to the window. she may be owner of one of the most important business on the market right now, but she’ll never get over the view of her top floor office.

she sighed and took it in, watching the sun slowly set. the buzz off her phone ripped her out of her thought.

a unknown number ? texted her ? did this idiot agent now got a hold of her number and is threatening her ?

ellie was quick with unlocking her phone only to see..

‘hey ! it’s your bartender from yesterday !’

she almost couldn’t believe that you actually texted her. after all she was a complete stranger. but then again - you were a university student working in a kind of run down bar.

anyways, she still remembered your name and saved your contact - and good lord she was quick with texting you back.

and good lord you texted back and forth for long, ellie didn’t notice that the sun was down by now.

she should leave the office and probably go back to her penthouse apartment and get some sleep.

damn it, why did you have to text her that you’re still in your universities library studying for your upcoming exam.

and why did she have the urge to pick you up and take you out for dinner ? what was it about you?

usually, ellie picks easy-to-get girls. a quick one night stand with not a lot of talking, maybe giving them a lift home in her bentley - if she was being nice.

she didn’t even know why she wanted to treat you better.

before ellie knew she was sitting in her white bentley, on her way to pick you up.

and you didn’t even realise she was actually doing it until you saw her. until you saw the woman exiting her beast of a car.

your eyes got so wide when you saw her with that sleek black coat, white turtle neck and black suit pants. she looked so good.

„hello beautiful.“

ellie smilingly said before opening the car door on the passenger side door for you to enter. you hesitated for a second, being kind of overwhelmed to get picked up from university like this.

however, you greeted her back and entered her car.

„getting shy now?“

she joked, starting the engine and pulling out of the study property. her smile was wide when she looked at you.

„no. i‘m just not used to getting picked up with this kind of service.“

ellie smirked. she knew her cars and her money was impressive. after all, it is exactly what most girls are after so she stopped bothering. she had it, so why not make good use of it?

„wanna go grab a coffee? i know a nice cafe around here.“

she suggested, already driving in the direction before you could answer.

obviously you agreed with the idea. spending hours studying and beating up your brain made you deep fried and having coffee with a stunning woman like she is exactly what you need.

her car stopped in front of an overly fancy building. for a second you thought she took you too a designer shop if some sort, but when you glanced out the window it was an actual cafe.

you felt out of place looking at the business men inside. with your hoodie and skirt. basic university fit - comfortable and chill.

ellie looked at you, noticing the slight uneasiness in your body language and look.

"don't worry, you'll be fine, dear."

you exited the car and entered the fancy cafe. chandeliers hanging from the top, covered in golden paint. the walls were painted in a a dark green shade.

it seemed so royal.

apparently ellie was a regular there. the waiter already knew her and greeted her with her name before leading the two of you to a place a bit away from the other people.

"what do you want ?"

she asked after you received the menu. all types of coffees, teas and cakes where listed on it, with prices far beyond your imagination

"a simple cappuccino."

ellie nooded, smiling and passing the order to the waiter, along with ordering a latte for herself.

"don't worry, it's on me."

you smiled and thanked her. when she told you she'd pick you up, you expected everything but not.. this. you'd be happy with getting some takeaway coffee from a local bakery. apparently ellie wasn't.

the coffee came anfd you carried on with you conversation. talking about your interestes, hobbies - everything but not work and uni.

suddenly, her phone rang. it was ellies lawyer.

"excuse me, love. i have to answer this call. i will be right back."

she got up and walked out of the front, looking kind of nervous.

you watched her pass by the window, walking back and forth. her expression changed from anxious and nervous to furious. sipping your coffee, you tried to figure out what was going on but eventually dropped it.

after a while she returned, sitting down again.

"i'm so sorry, but i will have to go back to the office. it's quite urgent."

she emptied her latte and waited for you to finish just as well.

"don't worry, ellie. i get it !"

with an apologising smile, she payed the bill for you two and left the cafe with you by her side.

"may i still drive you home? it'll start to snow soon and i rather have you safe inside before you have to walk and freeze."

a smile painted on your face. to be exact, you weren't used to this kind of princess treatment. but you didn't want to be a burden.

"it's okay, really. i don't want to take more of your time."

"no really, i want to do this."

eventually, you gave in and agreed. the second ellie started the engine, snowflakes started falling from the sky.

„see ? it‘s good than i‘m giving you a lift!“

you quickly typed your adress into her navigation system anf let her drive off. 80s rock music played from her radio as she drove to your home. you enjoyed every second - even tho it was silent between the two of you. both of you enjoyed it.

ellie placed her hand on your thigh and had her other one on her steering wheel. you glanced over. she looked ethereal. her green eyes pierced the snowy streets and her head slowly bopped to the music playing.

a beam of light from the warm streetlights illuminated her face whenever she drove past them and you felt like you‘re in some weird fifty shades of grey fanfiction.

she stopped right in front of your apartment building, glancing over at you.

„i‘m sorry, really.“

„don‘t worry.“

a bright smile was painted onto your face, causing ellies stomach to almost drop. you were such a sunshine on a snowy evening like this. before you could exit your car, she got out, opening the door for you.

„thank you, ma‘am.“

you said and took the hand she help out for you to help you get out. did you need these type of gestures? no, but you certainly enjoyed it. you never were treated this nicely.

she even went to the door with you, watching you unlook it.

„drive safe okay? snowy streets are dangerous.“

the concern in your voice and the worrying look of your eyes almost caused ellie to get a heartattack.

„and thank you. for this afternoon and the coffee, i enjoyed it a lot.“

you added and ellie nodded.

and she did something she never thought she would do - she opened her arms to give you a hug. and you accepted it.

it was a overly long hug and it was so comfortable. you took in her scent, the smell if her very intense and expensive perfume and the warmth of her body.

„i‘ll text you, pretty girl.“

she said, still holding you there. ellie didn’t even want to let go, but eventually had to.

before you went inside, she eyed you again. so pretty even tho you looked tired and wore a normal, casual outfit. you probably were the prettiest girl she ever saw.

„please do. would love to see you again.“

ellie smiled before adding a simple:

„trust me, you will.“

and watching you go inside with a ‚goodbye‘.

and she didn’t know yet that if she would fall for you, she’d fell hard and could never get up again.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

there we go !! thank you for your endless support on what i suppose is part 1 - which was just a brain rot of mine haha. i hope you enjoyed it!

let me know if you want me to keep this going ! xx

update: here goes part 3!

people asking to be tagged:

@harrysslutsstuff @vwonnie @mikaaj

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 1. The Night Shift

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: "Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal." “Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-" You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No Outbreak! Joel Miller, Mentions of intended smut towards the reader, Boss x Employee Relationship, Virgin Reader, All of the yearning, Joel Miller is a silly flirt, A small-ish age gap, Joel is too forward for his own good, Tess is a boss (and should not be fucked with - or you get the horns).

Word Count: 5.6K

A/N: Well, hello there!

I honestly have no idea where this idea of a (somewhat crack) fic came from, but I had an idea and I ran with it! A lot of the character development came from my own anxieties of feeling behind in life, and if you feel that way too, I feel you! Don't worry, I promise it won't always feel like this. Time is just that- time, and it's never too late to follow your dreams! I believe in you!

To: IT@millerconstructiongroup.com

Fr: J.Miller@millerconstructiongroup.com

Subject: I think I have a Virus?

12:50 AM (10 min ago)

Hey Sugar,

I know it's late, but my computer fritzed out an hour ago (a shit ton of pop-ups) and I have that presentation with The H Hotel tomorrow morning. Well, do you think you could do me a solid and help me... not have any more of those darn pop-ups? I called the number that popped up asking if I needed assistance with the virus and they asked for my credit card information but they haven't replied back.

Shit, was that a scam? Fuck. I should call Amex.  

Anyway, do you think you can help me get out of this bind, Sugar? I'll be forever and eternally grateful. If you don't, well... I'm sure Tess will rip me a new one, and I would like to not have a Servopoulos-level meltdown at 9 in the morning. Not after last time. Sorry about having to be a part of that, Sugar. At least Maria was able to pay for your dry cleaning and get you a new shirt? You should have let me check your chest for burns, I sure as hell wouldn't want scalding hot coffee being thrown in my direction either. Shit. Not check your chest as in checking out your... breasts, just the burn site. Yeah. That's what I meant. 

(Also, sorry for emailing you last minute. Shit. I'm desperate, baby.)

Thanks,

Joel Miller 

Owner and CEO, Miller Construction Group

(512) 123-4567

To:J.Miller@millerconstructiongroup.com

Fr: IT@millerconstructiongroup.com 

Subject: RE: I think I have a Virus?

1 AM (0 seconds ago)

Good Evening Mr. Miller,

I got your request and will work on it shortly. I can't make any promises, but I will try to get you out of your "bind".  

Don't worry about that thing with Tess. She was rightfully upset, and I just so happened to be caught in the line of fire. If it had to be one of us, I am glad it was me being pelted with boiling hot coffee, and not you in front of your clients. You didn't have to have Maria buy me a blouse from Neiman Marcus, nothing a little tide-to-go can't fix, right? Also, I knew what you meant about my chest, and I didn't think you wanted to look at my... breasts. Let's not refer to any of my body parts moving forward.

Also, I am not completely comfortable with the terms of endearment that you continuously call me, Sir. Please refer to me by my actual name, these emails are monitored by Tess and I would not like to be scalded with hot coffee again for a little misunderstanding.  

Please let me know if you have any other pressing questions or concerns.

Goodnight!

IT Specialist 0926,

IT Department, Miller Construction Group

(512) 765-4321

"Ok Bubbles, let's see what mess Mr. Miller got himself into this time."

Settling by your coffee table, you access your remote portal and insert your portable SSD, initiating various programs to gain entry into your boss's laptop. Securing your hair in a messy top bun with a claw clip, you find yourself biting your bottom lip in concentration. Simultaneously, you switch on your TV, finding solace in the ambient noise that fills your dimly lit apartment—a space shared with Sir Bubbles, your British Shorthair companion since your college days. There's a marathon of Criminal Minds airing on TBS, Spencer Reid's adorable face on screen as he rattles off another theory for why the unsub was an abuse victim by his prostitute mother. You turn the volume down a bit, drowning out his voice.

It's near silent in the little shoebox you call home, the only decent place you were able to afford with your meager savings- after slaving away as a Geek Squad IT Specialist for the majority of your twenties at the Best Buy down the road from your parent's house. Despite graduating with your MIS at the University of Texas - Dallas, finding a decent job in your industry was brutal, and, honestly, quite embarrassing after receiving 30-plus rejection emails in a span of a year. Downtrodden and desperate for a job, you settled on working at Best Buy temporarily, but by the time you hit your mid-30s, it's been eight years working for barely minimum wage, and absolutely nothing to show for it. 

"Do you remember those sweet Miller boys who fixed our roof ten years ago?" your mother asks during a Sunday dinner six months ago, sliding a boat of gravy your way as you absentmindedly drizzle it over your mashed potatoes. "I ran into the older one... Joeseph? James? He owns his own company now with his brother, quite the feat, right? They're working on that hotel down the road... anyway, Josh-"

"Joel," you correct her, nudging the over-steamed carrots around your plate. "I think his name was Joel, Mama."

"Yes, Joel," your mother dismissively waves her hands. "Well, I told him about how you were on the job hunt, you know, with your master's and all. Oh, remember when you used to have that silly little crush on him? He's grown to be quite the looker, you know? Anyway, he told me that they were looking for someone to replace their old IT person—apparently, they retired—"

"Mom," you groan, "get to the point."

"Well," she grins conspiratorially, "he wants you to apply, baby. He remembers you and your little crush, and he said he could never forget someone as cute as you. If you're as good as I claimed you were, well... the job's practically yours!"

Your fork slips from your grasp, the metallic clang against porcelain causing Bubbles to leap in surprise, hissing at you in irritation. "Wait, what?" you blurt out, your eyes wide with a mix of shock and confusion.

Your mother beams at your reaction, seemingly pleased with the bombshell she just dropped. "I told him all about your IT skills and how you practically run the technology world from your bedroom. He seemed really interested, sweetie. And, well, it wouldn't hurt to at least consider it, right?"

You sit there, a swirl of thoughts and emotions whirling in your mind. The unexpected twist of Joel Miller, the older Miller boy you once had a crush on, remembering you and possibly offering you a job—it's surreal. Bubbles, having recovered from the earlier disturbance, casually resumes licking his paw, completely uninterested in the familial drama.

"I... I don't know, Mom," you stammer, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. "I mean, working for the Millers? It's a bit... complicated."

She leans in, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Sweetheart, this could be a fantastic opportunity. And who knows, maybe that little crush of yours could turn into something more... professional, of course." She cuts into her meatloaf, humming in contentment as she chews. "Oh, and Sweetie? Wear the red sweater with your pleated skirt, with something other than those sneakers. You're turning thirty-six in September; you can at least do yourself a favor and start dressing your age for once! I'm sure Joel would appreciate it!" she winks at you as your father grunts in displeasure, rolling his eyes, muttering "meddler" under his breath.

"Mom, it was just a crush from a decade ago. Besides, mixing work and personal feelings is never a good idea."

She chuckles, reaching across the table to pat your hand. "Well, think about it, okay? Joel seemed genuinely interested in having you on the team. It's worth exploring, don't you think?"

A wink, a handshake, and six months later, you find yourself on-call indefinitely, catering to Mr. Miller's every technological whim and folly. It's not a bad job, you reason — getting paid triple what you made at Best Buy, monitoring everyone's browsing history in the office, and fielding the incessant IT requests Mr. Miller sends your way- which was often.  Way too often.

[My laptop won't turn on.]  Did you charge it? Try doing that first.

[Why does the volume not work on my Zoom calls?]  Did you make sure that you're not on mute or that your computer volume is up? Check that first.

[Since when did we put a parental blocker on the internet?]  It was per Tess, who said that employees should be working instead of looking up anti-feminist manifestos on Reddit. I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Miller. [Oh, well shit. Do you think you could unblock it for me? I am... having a hard time accessing my... bank account.] I mean- I could, but I would have to run it by Tess first. [Do you think you could... for me? It'll be our little secret, Sugar. Don't worry about Tess, I'll handle her.]  Sure, Mr. Miller... Right. Our little secret.  [Sugar, for the last time, it's Joel. Besides, I thought we were past having a silly little crush on me, you've grown into a... rather nice young woman. Please, call me Joel.]  Uh, sure Mr. Miller.

You are broken from your silent reverie by the unmistakable ding, ding, ding of the pop-ups Joel- Mr. Miller - you correct yourself, mentioned in his email. You scoff, biting into a piece of beef jerky. Typing in a command, the pop-ups halt, the black screen granting you developer access popping up as you run diagnostic after diagnostic trying to catch the little sucker - a virus, as Mr. Miller claimed - in the act of corrupting your poor boss' laptop once again.  There you are, you little shit, you mutter under your breath as you furiously type in more commands, eradicating Mr. Miller's bane of existence for good (or so you hope).

After running what felt like the tenth diagnostic of the night and downing three cups of coffee for the last three hours, the dawn of a new day streaks through the sheer curtains against your window. With bated breath, you restart Joel's system once more, closing your eyes until the familiar chime of Windows 11 booting up reaches your ears.

Please, please, please for fucks sake... no more pop-ups...

Joel's home screen pops up in an instant, the photo of him and his two girls smiling back at you as you breathe in a sigh of relief. "Fuck yes! Finally!" you silently exclaim, a drawn-out yawn and a deep stretch escaping your body as you settle your laptop on your couch. "Okay, let's just run a few programs and check a few documents to make sure they're not corrupted and then I can finally hit the sack..." you squint at the digital clock of your microwave, "and sleep for an hour before I have to get ready for work," you groan, eyeing the jar of Cafe Bustelo in the distance. Yep. No sleep for me, you think bitterly.  Another night, another one of Mr. Miller's computer meltdowns... 

Your eyes scan his desktop, opening up the PowerPoint file he needs for his presentation. It opens up with a slight lag, something you can optimize later but you breathe out another sigh of relief anyway. You check his internet browsing history, his late-night extensive porn viewing not a surprise to you anymore as you snort at the ridiculousness of it all.  At least it's not as bad and kinky as Tommy's browsing history, you tell yourself, because you'll never quite get used to all of the roleplay porn he watches religiously, you think. Closing out of Google Chrome, You scan his desktop for a random Word doc for you to open, not checking its title as you double-click on the first one that you see, slightly hidden by the Recycle Bin icon to the bottom right.  Wants? What kind of a file name is that?

The Word doc pops open, and it seems to be a running list of random things. You blearily scan the line items, your eyes widening in shock as you read on.  

Fuck her against my office door as I cover her mouth to muffle her screams.

Spoil her with a shopping spree at Neiman's with my Amex black card.

Fulfill my breeding fantasy by convincing her to get off of her Birth Control (do you think she's on one?)

Fuck her from behind against Tess' desk (serves her right)

You quickly exit out of the document, pushing your laptop away as if it were cursed. You look at the document title once more.  

Wants.

What the fuck was this? Who is he talking about? you ponder, the guilt of your negligence weighing on you like a weight tied to your ankles as you sink into the depths of the Atlantic. You shut your laptop for good measure, covering it up with your quilt as you shake your head in disbelief.  

What the fuck did I just read?

“Mr. Miller? Do you have a moment?”

You knock on the office door once more for good measure, standing timidly as you try to occupy yourself by smoothing out your dress - sensible, a decent length, work appropriate, you think to yourself. You try to not occupy the idle time of waiting for your boss, Joel Miller, one half of Miller Construction- and the thing you found while remote logging onto his computer last night - I think I have a virus, his email stated - only to stumble upon something rather telling and personal - but he was your boss, and you were a professional, and you weren’t going to think about the list… 

Kiss her in the rain.

Make love in my truck as she rides me. 

Bend her over my desk and take her from behind.

Marathon sex

Eat her out as she works at her desk.

No, Joel was unequivocally your boss—older than you by at least a decade (and maybe a few more years, give or take), and the document titled "Wants" was clearly personal, likely intended for someone else, and certainly not meant to be seen by anyone, especially not an overly curious IT specialist like you. No, you reckon that this list was meant for someone else in the office - someone beautiful, sexy, and confident— someone decidedly who isn't you. Certainly not for someone who dresses like she’s still in college, who only recently began living on her own in a shoebox of an apartment (if you can call it that) after living with her parents for the majority of her adult life, and who barely has her life together. It’s pathetic, being a woman of a certain age and with nothing to show for it, still painfully single, nothing substantial to your name, only getting your life together now while everyone around you has done everything right.  I feel so behind in life, you think to yourself.  Who would want someone so pathetic as me?

It’s not like it’s a crime to have wants, you think to yourself. Everyone has them, including you, you reason. So what if you just so happen to stumble upon your boss's deepest (and somewhat depraved) desires? Doesn’t everyone have a bucket list of their desires written somewhere? So what if your older, attractive boss with his Gen X tendencies has it typed out on his work computer? It’s not like he meant for you to open up the Word doc, right?

You knew he was single. You also knew that he had kids, at least two—Sarah, his eldest, was the head of HR, and Ellie, his adoptive younger daughter, an apprentice working under Tommy, the other half of Miller Construction—a serial flirt who asked you about your dating life in your interview a few months back. No, you didn’t think about your boss and the sheer mass of man that he was, that he smelled like cedar and sandalwood, that he winks when he tells you good morning as you pass him in the parking lot while stumbling out of your less-than-impressive shitty Corolla. You also didn’t take note that he drinks his coffee black with a sprinkle of sugar—the one in the brown packet—or that he eats in his office instead of the employee lounge because he’s a messy eater. The deep red blush trailing down his neck as Tommy scolded him about his lack of table manners during a company-mandated team-building day wasn't proof enough of that.

There wasn’t a ring on that tell-tale finger, not even a tan line, no photographs of another woman on his desk—besides his daughters, of course. Not that you were looking. Tommy had his wife Maria come down to the office often enough; wouldn’t Joel be the same with his own?

Miller Construction prided itself on being a family-run company, with Joel and Tommy at the helm and their best friend Tess as VP—more the boss than the actual Miller brothers. While Joel and Tommy preferred the hands-on work on-site, Tess ruled over the office with an iron fist. No one dared to cross her.

"You've got one job, and one job only," she declared during your office tour. "Make sure no one spends the majority of their shift watching porn, and keep Joel from messing up his computer with his boomer-isms. We can't afford to keep replacing a laptop every six months."

"Isn't he in Gen X?" you ask. "... at 56 years old, he's still considered to be in that generation, right?"

"Technically, yes," Tess replies with an exasperated sigh. "But you know what I mean. Sometimes it feels like Joel is stuck in a time warp with his 'boomer-isms.' Just keep things running smoothly here, alright?"

As the days pass, you notice an unusual trend in Joel's computer issues. It seems that every time his laptop malfunctions, it coincides with a spike in suspicious internet activity. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots, and you can't help but shake your head at the irony of it all.

After a particularly eventful morning filled with more than the usual technical hiccups, you decide it's time to address the elephant in the room. You knock on Joel's office door, half-expecting him to be engrossed in some spreadsheet or construction plans.

It's not like you have to tell him about your snooping - he would be none the wiser judging by the way he was so technologically inept - you weren't about to tell him that the reason for the virus on the computer was because he was looking at some rather specific porn - boss fucks unsuspecting secretary from behind- his internet history had listed, nor did he probably think that his computer is being monitored, including his internet browsing history- company policy, as stated on the employee handbook that every employee of Miller Construction signs on the day of their official hiring- nor does he think that it sends reports to her at the end of the day.

You don't think about how the sudden uptick of his secretary porn viewing increased since a week after your hiring.  It's just a coincidence, right?

“Mr. Miller?” You call out once more. “It’s about your IT request last night? I have an update?”

“Yeah? Sorry! Come on in!” you hear from behind the door, accompanied by the frantic shuffle of papers and a silent curse. You take a deep breath as your hand turns the doorknob. Silently, you shut the door behind you, offering a small smile as you smooth out the skirt of your dress once more.

You fidget in place in front of the door as Joel—Mr. Miller—in his green flannel and dark jeans slung just right—it really should be criminal, looking this ruggedly handsome for someone his age, you think—as he ungraciously flops onto his desk chair, motioning for you to take the seat in front of him as he clears his throat nervously. “Take a seat.”

You situate yourself in front of him, refusing to meet his eyes as you fiddle with your hands on your lap, wondering why he, out of all people, would be nervous. It's not like he stumbled upon something so... intimate. You are a professional, and you were only doing your job, you tell yourself like a mantra, trying to ground yourself. What's the worst that could happen? It's not like he would fire you over your accidental snooping, right? You nod to yourself. “So…”

“So…” he replies, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a drink of his coffee. “Thank you for taking a look at my computer last night.” He begins, smiling at you. “I know that it was late, and I’m willing to compensate your time by giving you time and a half…”

“Oh,” you nervously reply, shifting in your seat. “No, Mr. Miller—”

“Joel.”

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Please. We’re all family here. Call me Joel. Mr. Miller is my father for fuck's sake—”

“Right,” you chuckle. “Sure. Joel. Listen, you don’t need to compensate me for last night, let alone give me the overtime rate—”

“I emailed you at midnight; surely you were already busy, or I probably irritated your husband—”

“No.”

“No?” 

“No,” you mumble solemnly, “there’s no husband, just me and my cat-“

He barks at that, the laugh so loud it makes you jump in your seat. He gives you a look, almost as if he was relieved with that bit of information. “Well, disturbing your cat, then-“

"Oh," you reply casually, waving your hands in dismissal. "I'm sure Sir Bubbles didn't mind... and I don't sleep much, really—"

"Oh?" He straightens himself, his face serious. "Is it because of all of my requests? Shit. My girls give me such a hard time about not being with the times, I'm not really interested in technology— So no husband? Boyfriend, then?"

"Uh, no," you reply quickly, not eager to delve into the details of your lackluster love life. You clear your throat, adopting a professional demeanor. "Joel, as you're aware—or maybe not," you chuckle nervously, "I receive reports of all employee internet histories at the end of the day. Being the sole IT specialist on your payroll—perks of the job, outlined in my duties—I keep an eye out for any... irregularities."

"Irregularities?" he replies, his demeanor shifting into something resembling guilt. "What are you trying to get at?" he presses.

"Well, I monitor employee computer usage to make sure that they're not... distracted from their work," you reply. "Tess was explicit about not having any employees using company time for any unnecessary personal... dalliances."

Joel gives you a hard look. "Dalliances?"

"Yes, dalliances. Tess told me it was an issue before, with employees browsing social media and visiting questionable Reddit threads?"

"I don't follow," Joel replies. "You gotta spell it out for me, Sugar. What does that have to do with my request last night? I had a late night at the office, and after... checking my emails," he gulps, "I suddenly get bombarded with these pop-up things, so much that I just... unplugged my laptop... and, well-"

How is he so oblivious about this? You bite your cheek in frustration, not knowing how to get to the point without having to spell it out for him that you caught him browsing porn last night, secretary porn at that, and although it's highly inappropriate, you hardly think he was watching it because of Gladys, his actual secretary, who is old enough to be his mother.  Not unless he has some weird mommy kink...

Unable to endure the suspense any longer, you decide to rip the bandaid off as soon as possible. “I’m sorry!” You exclaim, “I didn't mean to look at your browsing history, I mean, I had to, but only because I had to find the reason why a virus got on your computer, but that is not the point! I had to open a file to make sure it wasn't corrupted, and I swear, I didn't mean to open it!"

“Open what, sweetheart?” he smiles at you, leaning forward towards you.  

"Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal."

“Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-"

You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Joel visibly pales at your confession. He adjusts his collar, unbuttoning the second button as if he were being strangled by your scrutiny. “I just want to let you know", he starts, looking you in the eye with an unreadable expression. "I respect you as a woman, and Tommy, fuck, he wouldn’t let it go, with all that teasing about you being exactly my type and all, and well, your mother did remind me about your little crush on me back then-“ he rubs his hands through his hair as he rambles on, “… and I know that this looks bad, with you being my employee and all-“

“Wait, what?” You cut him off, a confused look on your face. “What do you mean? I mean, they're your personal preferences, and the list, well, I'm sure whoever you're writing about must be some woman, not that it's any of my business-”

“Fuck. You didn’t read all of it?”

“No!” You exclaim, practically jumping out of your seat. “I quickly closed it once I realized the nature of the document…”

“Well.” He stands up suddenly, pacing behind his desk. “I wrote that drunkenly one night after the company dinner, you know, the one when you wore that dress… do you remember?”

“Yes,” you reply breathily, “… the night where-“

You vividly recall that night. It was a dinner at the recently completed new hotel project. After a few glasses of wine and an impulsive, rather expensive purchase at Nordstrom.com a week prior, you endured most of the evening in an uncomfortably tight and overly revealing dress—a poor choice for a company party, for fucks sake. You believed Joel approached you at the end of the night out of sheer pity, not because—

“Well… after seeing you in that dress, and how stunning you looked in it, sitting by yourself, biting your lip in a way that makes me-“ he stops himself, giving you a small smile. “I was drunk, and I was thinking… I was contemplating how, if I were to have you, if you, by some miracle of fate… were interested, that I would do things right, you know? That if I had a second chance at… I would do it right. Treat you right.”

“You do know I’m not a secretary, let alone your secretary,” you roll your eyes. “I’m in IT… the only person in IT actually, and you’re not the first person I caught looking at questionable porn…”

Joel bristles at that. “Shit. Let me guess… Tommy?”

That gets a small smile out of you. “I can neither confirm nor deny, but… he’s partial towards a certain porn actress, and let’s just say he is really in love with women who looks like his wife.”

He smiles. "Shit, I thought I was being obvious enough, being that Tommy has teased me about it enough... I thought you knew. I know you work with computers, Sugar. I’m not completely senile, and I know Tess has been on a warpath about people getting their rocks off at work, I figured you would look at all of my… perusing.”

You're left stunned, your mind racing to process what Joel just revealed. It's not the revelation about his desires that leaves you speechless, but the unexpected admission of his feelings toward you. Your mind flashes back to the list, the desires that seemed so out of reach for someone like you. You never thought Joel would be harboring any feelings for you, let alone express them so openly.

"I... I had no idea," you stammer, still grappling with the revelation. "I thought that list was for someone else, someone... not me."

Joel walks around the desk, his eyes never leaving yours. "You thought wrong, sweetheart. I've been trying to drop hints, but I guess I've been subtler than I thought."

A myriad of emotions wash over you — confusion, surprise, and a hint of something you can't quite place. The professional boundary between boss and employee seems to blur, and you find yourself in uncharted territory.

"But," he continues, "I get it. I'm your boss, and this is complicated. I didn't want to put you in an awkward position. I should've been more direct."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Joel, it's not about being direct or indirect. This is just... unexpected. I never thought someone like you would... feel that way about someone like me."

He reaches out, gently lifting your chin so you meet his gaze. "Someone like me? What does that even mean, darlin'? You're intelligent and beautiful, and I've seen the way you handle your work. I've noticed you, and I can't help how I feel."

A mixture of vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes makes it hard to doubt his words. You start to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, your insecurities have clouded your perception.

"I don't want to pressure you, and I understand if you're not comfortable with this. I just needed you to know. The last thing I want is for things to be awkward at work," he says, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

You take a moment to absorb everything. Joel's revelation, your preconceptions, and the unexpected turn of events. The office, once a familiar space, now feels like uncharted territory.

"I need time to process this," you finally say. "It's a lot to take in, Joel. I never expected... any of this."

He nods understandingly, his hand dropping to his side. "Take all the time you need. I'll respect whatever decision you make. And hey, if you're not interested, we can go back to being boss and employee, like nothing happened."

You manage a small smile, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "I'll... let you know. Just give me some time, okay?"

"Of course," he says, moving back toward his desk. "And, for what it's worth, I meant every word on that list. Whether it's a rain kiss or making love in my truck, I want it all with you."

You nod, silently acknowledging his sincerity. As you leave his office, you can't help but wonder how a routine IT request led to such a revelation. The office dynamics have shifted, and you find yourself navigating uncharted waters, unsure of where this unexpected revelation will lead.

As you walk away from Joel's office, a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts consumes your mind. The revelation about Joel's feelings for you is a shock, but it's not the only thing echoing in your head. The list of desires he had penned down only magnifies your own insecurities. The voice in your mind grows louder, whispering that you're not the woman he deserves—too much of a mess, too behind in life, and certainly not beautiful enough for someone like him. The echoes of your perceived inadequacies replay like a broken record, drowning out the possibility that someone could genuinely see something valuable in you. You glance at your reflection in the office window, critiquing every imperfection, every perceived flaw. The dress that seemed sensible before now feels like a sad attempt to disguise what you believe is a lack of style or grace. The weight of self-doubt becomes an invisible burden, and you can't shake the feeling that you're not enough, that you may never be enough for someone like Joel.

As you grapple with your internal struggles, a small spark of defiance begins to flicker within you. Perhaps it's time to challenge those self-limiting beliefs, to be bolder than your insecurities allow. Joel's admission has opened a door you never expected, and you find yourself at a crossroads. Despite the echoes of doubt, a newfound courage whispers that maybe, just maybe, you can be more than what you perceive.

Embracing this sudden surge of determination, you make a decision. Instead of letting fear dictate your actions, you choose to confront the uncertainties head-on. Swallowing the apprehension that threatens to hold you back, you turn on your heel and head back to Joel's office. The faint thud of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears as you push open the door.

"Joel," you say, your voice steadier than you anticipated. "I've been thinking about what you said, and I need you to clarify something for me."

He looks up from his desk, curiosity etched across his features. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

You take a deep breath, suppressing the self-doubt that still lingers. "Is that list something you genuinely desire with me, or was it just a drunken fantasy?"

Joel's eyes lock onto yours, a mix of surprise and sincerity in his gaze. "Every word of it is something I want with you. Why?"

A daring smile plays on your lips as you respond, "Then let's not leave it as a list, Joel. Let's see how many of those desires we can turn into reality."

The room seems to hold its breath for a moment as Joel's expression shifts from surprise to a slow, understanding smile. The air thickens with anticipation, leaving the next steps uncertain but filled with the promise of something new and exhilarating. As you stand on the precipice of this unexpected journey, the uncharted waters of possibilities lie ahead, and you find yourself ready to take the plunge.

Taglist: @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115

For more updates on all of my fics, please follow @chiriwritesstuffnotifs

All dividers by @saradika-graphics

[setsugekka]

❥5 weeks (m)

↳ In which a freelancing stylist gig puts you between a rock and a hard place.

The rock being ‘never slept with a client before and not looking to start now,’ and the hard place being a younger than you and much too daring for his own good, Jung Wooyoung.

jung wooyoung x older stylist fem!reader — coworkers to lovers, mutual pining, porn with plot, explicit sexual content. [12.1k wc] cws: unspecified age gap!! they’re both down atrocious but he is the one making all the moves, mutual masturbation, a metric fuckton of dirty talking, praise, humiliation, pet names including ‘mommy,’ and the use of ‘noona’ but really it’s his kink and not hers (a drop of ‘daddy’ too but it’s more for comedic purposes than anything), drop of a breeding kink (also kinda comedic), oral sex (m+f), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, wooyoung has a Big Dick and is wildly kinky and confident.

“Oh, give me a break!”

Shoulder sling of your bag dropping from you in exasperation and barely caught by your hand as to not allow your belongings to fall to the floor, you roll your eyes briefly towards the man informing you of the terrible news of the day. Of the month.

“Are you kidding me? This isn't what my contract said.”

“It sort of is,” the man reluctantly replies, avoiding eye contact that he knows will not help make the situation any better for either of you. “Blah blah blah 'in the event of a personnel shift then we have the freedom to place you wherever we need you.”

You knew, you were lying in hopes of being able to get out of it.

Unfortunately, when you took the job and signed the contract, you did know that this would be a likely outcome. Freelance stylists were able to choose three groups of which they had preference in working for throughout the show — bigger groups come with their own stylists and full slots majority of the time, but occasionally need additional hands on, which is where you come in. Smaller groups have less on board staff and require more freelance help on set — also where you come in, although, not ideally.

Of the six groups on broadcast, you had worked with four. three you enjoyed, they went on the list of preferences.

The one that you didn't enjoy working with, along with the other that you hadn't become acquainted with, were left off. Nothing against them, just better to play it safe with what you're familiar with.

And now you have to find out which group you got assigned for the next five weeks.

Slinging your bag back onto your shoulder with a huff, you thank the man for his time even in spite of not really being all that thankful, and make your way down the white walled hallway, the names of groups you're familiar with passing you by — slowing down as you pass the ones you had wished to work with and happily waving towards the members as you carry on — it's a brief relief, you'll still get to see them and have fun with them, just not as much as you would have given alternate circumstances.

And then you reach the room number, 3B.

ATEEZ.

Squinting slightly, you recall that you're actually not completely unfamiliar with them, and happily, they're not the group you didn't enjoy working with. You already know the names of everyone in the group, and you think you remember doing some behind the scenes broadcast work when they were still in their first year, albeit, not much.

It could have been worse.

Walking into the room, you first introduce yourself to the entire lot of people, then focus towards managers and the other stylists — all very welcoming and happy to receive the help, it seems.

Then, the members.

All of them gathered around, clamoring to accommodate you in such an overwhelming way that you can't hardly make out a single word being said one way or another, Hongjoong finally shushes the rest to get a word in edgewise and calmly welcomes you on board, along with apologizing in advance for whatever it is that may take place as a result of working with the lot.

You don't know what he means by it exactly, but you're familiar with working with boy groups — some things are pretty standard across the board. The dirty jokes, the messiness, the crudeness — if you're lucky, it mostly ends there, immature young men just trying to fit in having a good time in the midst of their otherwise busy schedules — you're used to giving it a pass.

But you sift through your mental rolodex of stories that you've heard about groups through the grapevine — water cooler among stylists type talk — and fail to land on anything in particular about them.

When it comes to this sort of stuff, no news is good news.

The boys scatter back to where they had come after the warm welcomes, and you dart your head around in an attempt to find a place to put your personal belongings. Truthfully, the room is small for the amount of people in it, and you're seemingly the last to join the crew. You wish not to place your purse down on the floor next to the door, but without another option at hand, you resign yourself to the fact that this will have to make due. Phone and wallet sticking out of the top, you kneel down to scoot the items against the wall when a strong hand comes from the side, taking you by the wrist. It's gentle even in it's abruptness, and takes you by surprise all the same.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,” he says, quickly letting go of you but remaining in his knelt position next to you. “Don't put it there, I got a place.”

Eyebrows furrowing at the words, and the implications, you cock your head to the side before responding to him. “Problem with thieves? I mean, I know it's a pirate concept—“

“Oh, very funny!” he says, matching your playfully mocking tone with wide eyes. “No, but the door has loose hinges and if someone comes through that thing fast enough it's going to destroy everything you've got in there.”

Come to think of it, you had noticed that upon entry. Not as funny as what you had said, though.

The both of you stand, your items in hand again, and he leads the way towards a small area of the room that he appears to have made out for himself. It's simple: two folding chairs, one for sitting, and one to serve as a table, with his food already set out on it — the man points towards under the table-chair. “Put it there.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you know my name?” he asks, no discernible tone to it, but you can't recall an idol ever asking you the question outright — especially knowing that you're a freelancer.

You watch him only break eye contact with you long enough to seat himself back down, taking his lunch into his hands and nodding towards the makeshift platform, communicating to you that he wishes for you to use the chair for its intended purpose now.

“Is this a test? Or some kind of, I don't know—“ you pause, leaning back comfortably. “Am I like, supposed to?”

And he laughs in response, a sudden chuckle as if not having expected the retort at all. You watch him wipe his mouth with a napkin and take a sip of his drink before settling in to respond to the comment. “No, I was just curious because I wouldn't introduce myself again if you already had. I'm Woo—“

“Wooyoung, I know who you are.”

“Wow, all of that just for you to already know who I am?” he questions, wide eyed again — you can tell that he's enjoying the banter between the two of you. You'd be lying if you had said you weren't doing the same. “Enjoy playing games, is it?” he asks.

Typically, you would say no. But right now?

There had been a handful of idols that you had worked with over the years where the two of you hit it off naturally, comfortably. A welcomed lack of professionalism in an area of work that didn't normally allow for any room for it, being able to meet people that truly allowed for you to simply be yourself — it made going to the job everyday just that much easier.

“So,” you begin, not wanting to allow the conversation to die down as the man with the two-toned hair in front of you continues his meal with all eyes on you as you speak. “Who has the problem head in this group?”

“Problem head? “ Wooyoung exclaims, having never heard the verbiage before.

“Yeah, like who is going to be the biggest issue. Who doesn't wash their hair like a normal person or never brushes it or whatever.”

“Oh!” he yells, finally having caught on, and wipes his mouth with the napkin again before pointing across the room and loudly calling out towards another member. “It's Seonghwa! It's 100% Seonghwa! Never seen that man brush his hair in my life!”

Laughing, you turn to look behind you at Seonghwa seated in front of a mirror, another stylist going to work on his hair — roughly, at that — and as you make eye contact with a Seonghwa who is shaking his head, you move your eyes up and towards the stylist behind, solemnly nodding in accordance to Wooyoung's claims.

You turn back, Wooyoung shoving more food into his mouth. “Told you,” he mumbles between chews. “You got a boyfriend?”

You had let the conversation die down, and just as quickly, Wooyoung sparks it up again, still gnawing on the chicken in his mouth as he gets the words out.

“No,” you carefully reply, question lacing your tone that the man is sure to pick up on, but he only grins, swallowing, wiping and leaning forward towards you so that he doesn't have to carry his voice in more than a whisper.

“Good.”

By the end of the first week, you had a good idea that you might have sex with this guy.

On a surface level, you weren't too thrilled with the prospect, though. In all of your years working in the industry, you had never crossed that line. You knew colleagues who had, and worked with idols that regularly did, but despite not being morally or fundamentally opposed to the idea, it seemed better for everyone to just not. It was easy enough, usually. You had met some people that you had hit it off with and sure, the thought had crossed your mind occasionally — the sneaking 'what if' of a fling with someone, but it never felt especially in grasp. You weren't going to go out of your way to make it happen, and as far as you could tell, no one else had on their end, either.

Until now.

An entire week of friendly banter and heavy flirting that only came on stronger and stronger with each day, it's the first friday when you have Wooyoung in your chair and hair in your hands that the glances shared felt especially loaded.

Pulling on his hair slightly at a particularly tricky knot, you apologize, watching him wince vaguely in the reflection — only for him to glance up from his phone with a half grin and a wicked pointedness to his eyes.

“It's fine, I like it.”

And you want to be able to ignore it. Ignore the implications of the words. Feeling foreign eyes on you, your vision quickly darts over to make contact with Hongjoong's — seated next to the two of you and being dealt with on his own. He chuckles under his breath, having overheard the comment, and you pull on Wooyoung's hair again, this time on purpose.

A silent insistence for him to behave.

“How old are you, noona?” Hongjoong suddenly asks from beside you, eyes glued back down to his phone screen, and you're not sure why he's asking.

You have your suspicions, though.

“Older, old enough,” you respond. It pulls another chuckle from the leader of the group.

“Makes sense,” he says, finally receiving the go ahead to get up from the chair after having been finished with. “He likes that. Good luck with this one.”

Feeling heat rush to your face, and not particularly enjoying the fact that everyone in the room seems to be in on the situation at hand, you look back at Wooyoung in the reflection: still grinning with not a care in the world related to the topic.

'Play it cool,' you tell yourself with a deep inhale. “You do this often? Flirt with your stylists?”

“I wouldn't say often,” he responds plainly. “It's not unheard of, though.”

“You run off a lot of stylists?” you laugh, playfully pulling at his hair again.

“No,” he says, a certain cuteness taking his tone before leaning his head back against the headrest and looking up at you directly. “They don't run off.”

You want to be better. Stronger. Able to ignore it. Not to be like them, you don't flirt with idols you work with and you certainly don't sleep with them, either.

But you're guessing Wooyoung has plans for that, as well.

On the next Wednesday when filming runs late, with the majority of the staff having left, Wooyoung, Yunho and Yeosang are kept behind to refilm some shots. For only three members needing attention, and the normal staff for the group having to accompany the rest to their other schedules, you're left in charge of the three — along with their managers.

Which is simple enough: Yeosang, as off the wall nutty as he is, is relatively easy to work with, and Yunho being so kind and willing to do whatever it takes to make your job easier, you're only left with the one problem-child, as it were.

When filming for the three finally wraps at a quarter past one in the morning, you thank everyone for their time and willingness to accommodate you as they all head out to meet up with the rest of the members...until a PD comes in last minute once again and requests for another shoot for Wooyoung.

“It's fine, I'll catch up with you guys later,” he tells the rest, including his manager — tired and worn no doubt from a hectic schedule of, well, managing Wooyoung.

“How are you going to get home?” you ask him, confused about his dismissal of his handler as he hurriedly shakes his black and blonde hair free of the half ponytail it had been put into as they were leaving.

“I know how to get home, I'm an adult,” he laughs in response.

“I mean with the fans.”

“Oh,” he pauses, slipping on the shoes from wardrobe that they had had him in prior. “That's easy to deal with, honestly. Already scoped out the escape!”

For some reason, you don't even question that to be the truth. It sounds like something he would have already had planned.

“Are you leaving now?” he asks, rushing out towards the hallway, only lingering in the doorway long enough to catch your response.

And you know that deep down, you should — that the best way to avoid trouble, and subsequently Wooyoung, is to leave while he's caught up, with no chance of roping you into some nonsense that you wish you didn't want to be roped into.

But at the same time...what could it hurt?

What's a little adventure?

And the way that his lips curl at the response is devilish — has you second-guessing your choice already. Evidently, a man with an extremely devious plan that he has every intention of putting into action with the older stylist that he barely knows anything about.

Suddenly, you recall Hongjoong's words just a few days prior. A warning. 'Good luck.'

“Be back soon!” Wooyoung chimes, “and then we can get out of here.”

As if the 'we' wasn't bad enough, it's the way his bottom lip catches on his teeth as he exits the room, eyes locked with your own before disappearing into the madness of idol life once again.

You had sort of hoped that something would have come up that barred this scenario that you had originally agreed to. Now darting and weaving through dark, empty hallways of the entertainment building — quite possibly the last people in there that night besides overnight security, when Wooyoung finally brings you to the VIP entrance that he had briefly mentioned before, dual hearts sink at the sight just beyond the large, glass doors.

Pouring rain — unable to be heard from inside of the massive concrete building, but now plain as day in front of you, Wooyoung huffs at the sight, scanning the scattered construction equipment also littering the outdoors — not taken into account, but now definitely hurting the escape plan that had already been set into action.

“I guess we just make a run for it,” Wooyoung sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. “This wasn't really part of the plan, you know.”

“I gathered, but—“ you pause, bringing his attention down to the three bags of your heavy and also quite expensive belongings that you would rather not get soaking wet. “I'm not running anywhere, not well, at least.”

He huffs again, looking up again to stare back out of the window pane. “Well, we can't stay here, don't think we have much of a choice.”

You had already accepted the fact, but hearing the words only causes a pleading sigh to drop from you. “Yeah...where are we running towards, anyways? What's the plan?”

Bringing a hand up, Wooyoung points out towards what appears to be just large equipment for moving and storing concrete and other such things, before elaborating further.

“Across the parking lot and then across the street there's a small, 24-hour convenience store where we can wait and call a cab.”

“How is that safe?” you question, dumbfounded. “How is it safe for you to be seen running around in convenience stores in the middle of the night with a random woman?”

“No one is going to see us, first of all, the weather is terrible and no one knows about this exit,” he begins, “second of all, my friend owns the place, so we'll hang out in the employee lounge until it's time to go.”

You visibly frown at the plan, still worried about your work items, but Wooyoung catches it — gently placing his hand on your wrist just as he had the first time the both of you met.

“We'll...figure it out, okay? Trust me. But we gotta get out of here before security calls security.”

Darting through the doors, Wooyoung holds your hand tightly into his as the two of you slosh through the downpour of the great outdoors — cold and windier than you both had anticipated, when the wind catches you and the bulkiness of your belongings just right, Wooyoung tightens his grip even more as he feels you veer off of the trail. You call out to him once, pulling your things against you as best as you can and he only calls back, “I know!” before finding some sort of shelter where you can hide for the time being.

And once inside, you realize how cramped it is.

It's a totally spur of the moment decision obviously, and not much else to work with, you know this — crammed face to face between two metal sheets in an otherwise packed construction shed — but you're able to shrug your bags off of your shoulder and push them to the side with your foot to grant you a bit more space as you attempt to wring out your hair, dress, and cardigan.

Eventually, when Wooyoung comes back to mind, you look up at him — thin, wet, t-shirt clinging to every curve and dip of the muscle in his chest, hair windswept and just as wet as everything else — and you try not to take notice, or allow your eyes the freedom to trail down, because you remember that he left in sweatpants, and that's plenty good enough to go off of.

But with not much space between you and the hastiness in which you arrived, Wooyoung's thigh ends up not so gently crammed just between your legs.

You notice. You can't help but to notice, you can only hope that he doesn't.

However unlikely that may be.

The first violent shiver of the cold air taking the wetness of your body, you insist that Wooyoung ignores, and he does, at your request — but by the second, he's not so willing to listen to orders.

Taking you by the wrist, the man pulls you forward and against him, your hands only able to catch yourself on his shoulders to keep from falling completely flat against his body, and you have no choice but to force down the sound that being pulled up and along his leg threatens to elicit.

'Bite it back, bitch,' you tell yourself in thought.

“Don't be difficult, it's freezing out here,” Wooyoung finally says, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you pressed into him. “Keeping you from catching pneumonia isn't really my go-to move.”

You chuckle, the only thing you can do at the ridiculousness of the situation. Turning to look outside as the rain beats loudly against the shed that the both of you take shelter in, Wooyoung shifts again, causing the top of his thigh to press upwards and harder against you. Eyes screwing shut, you try to steady your breathing — it's so dumb, you think as the situation unfolds, feeling like a teenager who can't keep it in her pants but in a situation where it otherwise wouldn't be an issue if it weren't for the fact that the hot guy that you work with — who almost definitely wants to fuck you — is currently lodged against your pussy with either not a clue and therefore doesn't have the knowledge to keep still, or very much aware and no interest in keeping still.

You didn't even really want to know which one it was, you just had to wait for the rain to lighten up.

“Hey.”

You turn your head to match Wooyoung's gaze, air finally drying out his hair a bit to leave it more air dried than soaking wet. He looks good, you hate that.

“You ever hook up with anyone you worked with?”

Mind reader? Gross.

You choose to ignore the implications, answering in a way that doesn't satiate the curiosity that he's hoping for. “Yeah, I used to date a guy who worked for the same company I did before I went freelance.”

“That's not what I mean,” Wooyoung frowns. Of course he wouldn't let you get away with it. “I mean an idol. The talent.”

Clearing your throat, you find that your proximity to Wooyoung that once offered a comforting warmth was now emitting far more of a scalding heat, and with your palms pressed to his shoulders, you manage to free yourself from him slightly, back against the metal sheet behind you and creating space between you and the nosy man just in front of you.

“No, I have not.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know!” you snap, not angry but unsure of what it is that he's fishing for. “Just...never been in a situation where that was a realistic thing that could happen, I guess. It's not really something that I seek out. I'm there to work.”

“You've never wanted to?” Wooyoung then says, tone dropping slightly and a small shift of his leg. It's enough that you can ignore it, but with your face fully visible to him now, you're not sure how much you can fake it if he starts to catch on and get braver. “Never desired someone?”

He's extremely perceptive.

“And what about you?” you ask back, table turned to grant you some proverbial breathing room. “Hongjoong sure made it seem like this was the sort of thing you do often.”

“Hongjoong is terrible at keeping his mouth shut, that much is for sure,” Wooyoung chuckles, then reaching forward with one hand and finding the hem of your dress — pressed up the length of your thigh only slightly due to his own having your legs agape. “But he is right, I do like older women.”

“So you just hit on every stylist that comes into contact with you?” you laugh, trying to ignore the burning sensation of his fingers playing with the cloth on your thigh, or the way that his eyes are smoldering and locked onto you.

“No, of course not, I'd have had a reputation that you'd have heard of by now if that were the case.”

That was true.

“So no, hitting on the stylist isn't a first for me, if you must know,” he adds coyly, hand now slowly sliding up and against your bare skin. You freeze against his touch. Is this really happening? Here? Now?

“I play with a lot of them for fun, and they play with me, but rarely does it leave the fitting room.”

You swallow hard, and when he shifts again suddenly you aren't prepared — his words, his touch, it's all too distracting for when the press against you comes — breath hitching in your throat for a split second before biting your lip in an attempt to pull the involuntary reaction back.

Too late, though.

Wooyoung looks down, seeing the positioning of his leg between your own and finally makes the connection with a devilish grin — looking up at you from through eyelashes, he hums in response, hand that had once begun a journey up your leg now stilled at the outer side, fingers playfully dipping into the elastic of your panties as if having a plan in mind all along.

“Oh, I see,” he sing-songs at you, deliberately pushing up and into you for the first time, and it certainly makes the difference — your head falling back against the steel lightly. “You know it's funny, I genuinely did not mean to do that.”

“Don't laugh,” you sigh out, now on your last leg of having the composure to not give in to him, and to yourself. “I'm not going to have sex with you, I don't have sex with clientele.”

Humming again, the man begins a steady, slow pace of flexing his thigh up and against you, hand coming around to feel what he can of you that isn't taken up by the space of his leg, and with his fingertip only finding slick wetness that water doesn't have, he smiles again.

“Fine,” he responds with a tone that's only just above a whisper. “But I can still make you come.”

“Shut up,” you whimper out, knowing that your resolve is falling away with every second that you're near him and even faster with every word that he says. You say that you won't fuck him, but truth be told: you're not completely convinced of it yourself. “I—, I—“ you attempt to say, always cut off by the way he feels against you, and even distracted by the lone finger that gently rubs at you from the side as best as he can.

You open your eyes, an attempt to come back down to earth from how quickly you're giving yourself up to this man, but your eyes immediately drop to catch the protrusion in his sweatpants — still wet and fabric clinging to the girth, you swallow hard and bring your eyes back up fast.

That knowledge was the last thing you needed if you were to make any sort of strong attempt not to have sex with him.

“Like what you see?” Wooyoung says playfully, a nod to the silly line often heard in comedies or pornography.

Unfortunately, you do.

You feel him shifting again, having to mull up the braves to allow your eyes to fall back down that way to find out what it was he was up to, and once the courage is mustered, you grant it to yourself.

It was a mistake.

“God,” is all you whisper out at the sight — Wooyoung's beautiful hand wrapped loosely around himself, lazily stroking in time with the ministrations of his leg up and against you, and it's all just a little bit too much.

“Watch,” he says, this time no jest in his voice and the pace of his thigh picking up just slightly. “You don't want to watch me?”

In the moment, you think that you would literally not ever want to watch anything other than that ever again.

Eyes coming back down, first to meet his own — half-lidded and mouth slightly parted, a beautiful sight before you, the visual of him palming over himself for your viewing pleasure — getting off on nothing else but the sight of you riding his leg.

The visual serves to be more stimulating than you'd have liked to admit, feeling the familiar bubbling in your abdomen, you try to find something that you can brace your hands on to give yourself more leverage — since the both of you are now resigned to letting this moment play out — and Wooyoung catches on quickly, choking out a “use me,” between steady, rhythmic pumps of his fist along himself.

You lean forward, hands on his shoulders again — now able to feel him work himself beneath you as you rut against his leg and if you weren't already so worked up, you might have been embarrassed about how quickly your orgasm approaches you.

“W—Wooyoung, I—“

“Good, good girl,” he groans, rhythm of his arm beginning to give out at the implications of your orgasm fast approaching, but it's the next words that truly wreck you. More than you may have ever anticipated outside of that singular moment in time.

“Use me.”

And it breaks you. Orgasm washing over you — it's not particularly hard or overwhelming, the circumstances not exactly granting themselves to having an earth shattering sexual experience, but Wooyoung follows you shortly after — high pitched whine escaping him as his eyes screw shut, ropes of cum painting his fisted fingers as he gently finishes himself just next to you.

Taking his messy hand from himself and into your own, you bring it up and to your lips, the man before you catching on quickly despite a hazy come down and shortened breath; two of his fingers part your lips and press inside shallowly at first, then slightly deeper as he feels the way that your tongue wraps around him to clean his cum from them.

All the while with unbroken eye contact, when Wooyoung finishes imagining the way that your mouth would feel around his cock, he snorts, pulling his hand from you and grinning.

“Nah,” he begins, gently attempting to dislodge himself from between your legs. “You're definitely going to fuck me.”

With two weeks down after that late night stuck in the rain, without so much as a single sly comment about the goings on of that evening, you resign yourself to the understanding that he had gotten the interest out of his system.

And you suppose now, with the imminent danger of potentially going where you've never gone before and crossing that line, you can admit to yourself that deep down, you're a little disappointed in that fact. He had made quite the compelling case, after all.

And a beautiful cock, at that.

You do, however, find it charming that his behavior never really changes towards you. Even in spite of the bizarre intimacy that comes with watching the other come without having ever so much as shared a kiss, Wooyoung plops himself into your stylist chair just as he always has — hair a mess and tank top a bit too loose for your liking given your coming to terms with not ever having sex with him, you allow yourself one good look across the expanse of skin he's happy to show, and even with knowing that he sit in the reflection watching your eyes rake over him with a slight curl of his lip, you still can't help yourself.

Besides, what's one more good look? It's not the only part of him you've seen.

Tapping on his phone as you begin brushing into his hair from behind, Wooyoung asks you how you are today, just as normal. No suspicious tone, seemingly no ulterior motive.

“The same as always, how are you?” you respond, still tugging at the strands.

“Better now that I get to see my work wife,” he quickly responds, as if the entire premise of the conversation had simply been a set up for him to lay this one on you.

And if his intent was to trip you up, you were ashamed at how well it worked, freezing up instantly just before shaking it loose and carrying on. “Work wife? Is it okay that you joke like that?”

“Why not?” Wooyoung chuckles, looking up at you through the reflection of the mirror in front. “Also, your legs look crazy in those jeans.”

Heat rushing to your face, not wanting to look to either side at whether or not another stylist or member is listening in on the conversation, you lean down toward him and rush to a whisper. “Okay you definitely can't say that!”

“Of course not,” Wooyoung whispers back, turning his head just an inch to nearly meet your skin with his mouth. “Let me see you.”

Instantaneously, you pull back from him — back into working position and fight back the embarrassment of what's taking place. Wooyoung only grins again, looking back down to his phone and not pushing the topic any further.

When the guys begin exiting the room one by one to begin shooting, Wooyoung exits last, but not before stuffing his hand into the back pocket of your pants and maintaining a knowing eye contact with you for far too long.

You want to think that he left something in your pocket, but knowing him, just wanting to touch your ass isn't a possibility you can completely write off.

When the rest of the staff leave besides the other stylists, you manage to pull away just enough to check your pocket, feeling the presence of a small slip of paper — clearly what Wooyoung had intended on you finding, with a phone number scribbled on it. Nothing else.

Sure, you wish to be stronger than to give into the allure of the sexy, younger guy that you work with, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said that you weren't delighted at the prospect that he had not, in fact, lost interest just yet.

>you: hey, it's me.

It's all you send. Playing it cool and not at all desperate being paramount in this exchange now in order to maintain your dignity.

After all, you said you wouldn't have sex with him and now here you are, texting him knowing fully well that that is precisely what he's after. Perhaps you just needed a push in the right direction, but not without being able to feign a lack of interest, first.

It's only fifteen minutes later that he responds, and given you know they're recording, you expected it to be longer.

>big trouble: who is this? who is me?

You roll your eyes, but immediately move to reply.

>you: you know who, the woman whose ass you just groped so that I would contact you.

The signal of his typing pops up just as quickly.

>big trouble: you'll have to be more specific :p

He begins typing again.

>big trouble: kidding, what do you have me saved as in your phone? don't use my name!!

>you: oh darn I actually had it saved as group name plus full name and flashed it around when you replied, is that going to be a problem?

You become hyper aware of how you're smiling at your phone in the presence of other people, you try to bite it back as to not raise any awareness, but relatively unsuccessful in doing so.

He is so fucking charming, and fuck if you didn't enjoy his company.

A few more minutes pass before he begins typing again, close to ten when a response finally comes through.

>big trouble: sorry replies are gonna be spotty until we get out of here. let me see you.

You realize now, upon him saying it to you again — that you're not even entirely sure of what he means by that. See you: naked? Date? Outside of here? Too many options to just assume, but you also hate to ask — stomach bubbling with anxiety at the prospect of what it could mean, you realize that even you have to figure out just what, exactly, your intentions are with this guy.

But if you want to know something, all you can do is ask.

>you: what do you mean “see me”

Immediate typing again.

>big trouble: not at work, preferably with your legs over my shoulders and my face buried in your pussy.

Locking your phone you immediately press it face down and into the couch cushion next to you. Inhaling deeply, you close your eyes for a second to recollect yourself; steady breathing, and desperately trying to ignore the ache growing between your legs from just a single line of text.

You feel your phone vibrate again and can't even be sure you're ready to read whatever insane thing he's sent next, but suppose you can't just leave him on read. Not on that note.

Not when you're particularly interested in the proposition yourself.

Slowly picking your cell back up, carefully looking around to make sure no one can spy in — now not necessarily about it being who you're texting but generally speaking sexting is frowned upon in professional settings — you illuminate the screen to confirm that the incoming message is indeed, from him.

You open it.

>big trouble: i'm flexible though, actually hope you are too <3

Sick with how you can hear his tongue in cheek tone even through text, you get it together enough to finally begin typing out a response — not entirely sure what to say, given you don't necessarily want to agree to doing anything with the man just yet, and especially not like this.

>you: is that a good idea?

With some time having passed since his reply, you know that he's probably off working again — setting your phone down you exhale heavily, leaning your head back against the couch.

But all you can think about is Wooyoung's sandwiched between your thighs.

The buzzing from your phone brings you back, and you open it in more of a hurry than maybe you would have liked — much too eager to find the next insane thing that the man has to say to you.

>big trouble: oh no it definitely isn't

>big trouble: that's kind of the fun of it though

>big trouble: get into a little trouble with me, but i'll make it worth your time if you let me

You don't doubt him for even a second. Another text comes in.

>big trouble: I think you want to play with me, like a little bit

In the moment, the only thing that you can offer in response is that you'll think about it, still not completely willing to give yourself up to the desire of having him, or letting him have you — an obvious conquest of sorts on his end, of which he seemingly stacks up notches on his bed post — but you need time to decide if you're willing to make peace with being just that in exchange for getting what it is that you want from him, anyways.

Mutually beneficial? Absolutely. You just have to decide if the juice is worth the squeeze.

Two days out from wrapping filming, backstage is hectic — corridors lined with people running back and forth, darting in and out of rooms and racks of clothing and shoes serving as a make shift obstacle course everywhere you go, it's nothing you're not used to, and despite working for ATEEZ as a group, in ways you found yourself assuming the position as Wooyoung's handler in particular — occasionally Hongjoong's as well, enjoying his quips and stories as sort of an old soul in the body of a young man who took comfort in placing himself in otherwise awkward scenarios between you and the man you were almost definitely going to have sex with — you could only assume that Hongjoong had caught wind, and not because Wooyoung told him, but because he was quick on the uptake.

And he found it humorous.

Winding through the halls pushing the both of them out and ahead of you towards where they need to go, it's Hongjoong first who greets the senior idol exiting their dressing room to the left, then Wooyoung, and then you.

But you know them already.

One of the idols of the groups that you already get on with quite well, it's a friendly greeting, and you certainly can feel Wooyoung watching it all too intently — as if trying to poke a hole in a story once told to him in fabrication.

Saying your goodbyes, the three of you push forward again, not long before reaching just back stage and to your destination. You pull Hongjoong first, doing some last minute touches on his hair and eye makeup before sending him on his way, then Wooyoung — pouting like a baby as you press fingers into the sides of his hair that had fallen and now needed retouching.

“Oh geez, what?” you huff out quietly, thankful for the goings on around you that no one would hear you even if any one had time to stop and eavesdrop on the conversation.

“You two were cozy, huh?” he says — playfully, but you think it might be a ruse.

Wiping excess hair wax from his temple and shoving a clip into your mouth due to lack of hands, you look him dead in the eyes. “Wooyoung, I haven't slept with him, oh my God—“ you exasperate, slicking more product into his head, “and even if I had, none of your business.”

You watch as his eyes narrow, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth at your bitter words and begins to curl his lips into a smile just before telling him that he's finished and to go do his job.

“I know,” he says under his breath, leaning forward momentarily. “Was just hoping to hear the story if there was one.”

It's sinister in tone, like he's already getting off a little on the prospect of hearing about you getting fucked by another man, and the more you think of it in that split second, the less you would even be surprised if that had been the case. But Wooyoung continues to look at you as he steps backwards and towards where it is he needs to go — a display of power, in ways.

You're not sure you could run this guy off if you tried.

Hours later into the evening and close to midnight, you just about finish packing up your things, placing bags by the door next to all of the other stylists and managers items also eager and ready to head off and get rest before the last day of filming before you catch from the corner of your eye — phone laid out on the table and face up, illuminated in the dim lighting of a room soon to no longer be occupied for the day. Stretching your arm out and reaching towards it, almost immediately you recognize the length of name on the screen that alerts you of who it is that's contacting you.

You glance around yourself, just to be sure.

>big trouble: let me see you tonight.

Stomach jumping into your chest, to say yes to him is a big step. You're aware that at any point in time you can rescind said yes, but all the same — even just the logistics of getting him into your place to begin with comes with it's own set of worries and challenges and truth be told; you hadn't put any thought into such a plan.

But you still kind of wanted to.

>you: how?

He begins typing just as quickly as your response sends.

>big trouble: i'll take my managers car, just say yes if it's yes don't worry about the rest.

Realistically you know that it's him on the line. Sure, it wouldn't look great for you as a freelancer if it started getting around that you take home men from work, but not nearly the same career expectations are in place. You take a second to mull it over before attempting to respond. He sends another text through in the meantime.

>big trouble: please if I have to see you in those jeans again and not suffocate in your cunt I think i'll fucking die.

You appreciate his eagerness, as does the throb between your legs in anticipation. He sure knows how to talk to a lady.

And despite the reluctance, you give in, sending over your address in the next text, along with the demand that if he not be there by 12:30am to not bother showing up at all, it's a long work day the next one, after all.

An immediate reply again, you pull your bags onto your arms and head out of the doorway before reading his response.

>big trouble: I have every intention of putting you to sleep.

When 12:18am ticks on the oven clock in your kitchen, one glass of wine down in anticipation and an attempt to calm your nerves, you start to assume that he's not coming. Perhaps he had come to his senses, or got held up and wasn't able to make it.

But just as suddenly as the thought comes to you, a buzzing on your door sounds, and your heart drops to your stomach — bubbling in anxiety and the possibility of what's going to happen now. Now that the both of you will be properly alone. Now that...he's here, and with hours to spare.

Setting the glass down onto the table, you clear your throat and make your way towards the door, checking the peep hole despite knowing precisely who it is that you will find — it's charming, in a way: Wooyoung standing there in baseball cap and mask, heavily bundled in an attempt to not be found out on his naughty little rendezvous. He's brave, you gotta give it to him.

Opening the door slowly, Wooyoung slips in, pulling both adornments from his head before you're even able to close the door completely, then moving to kick his shoes off. He looks at you, shrugging his jacket off and placing it onto the rack just next to him.

“I can't believe you're still wearing those fucking jeans.”

And as taken aback as you are by it being the first words to leave his mouth upon entering your apartment, more than that, you're taken by being immediately pushed back and towards the couch — his eyes flat and narrow and completely darkened by lust as your behind eventually finds the cushion and Wooyoung immediately falls to his knees between your legs.

Pulling himself up and beginning to grapple with the button and zipper of your jeans, he leans up and finally kisses you — for the first time, you're reminded again — plush, hot lips messily pressing into your own, it's evident just in that contact alone how much he's been wanting this moment, greedy and quick and not at all making a point of taking his time before pulling away to loosen the fabric from your legs and toss it elsewhere on the floor beside him.

Wooyoung comes back up, kissing you again and just as hungrily as before — feeling his fingers dip into the elastic hip of your panties, before once again pulling back to release those of you as well.

He breaks the cycle then, bringing up the flat of his fingers against your pussy to feel the heat radiating off of your skin before looking up at you and resuming said cycle — pressing his mouth hard against yours again, trailing down the corner and along your jaw — teeth grazing lightly against the skin as the tip of his middle finger gently dips between your folds to tease at you. Breath hitching in your throat at the contact, you feel him grin into your skin.

“W—Wooyoung,” you choke out, intensity of the situation all consuming and somehow more heavy set than you had even expected.

“What?”

But you forget what it was you were even planning on saying once his finger makes proper contact with your clit — perhaps it was nothing, just an airy exasperation of his name altogether, but just as quickly as everything else the man between your legs pulls from you and pulls you down by the legs, ass edging on the side of the sofa and propping your legs up on his shoulders just as he had said he would — wasting no time thereafter going to work on you.

And you didn't expect him to be lying about what he would or wouldn't do if given the opportunity, but his eagerness right then and there — tongue pressing hard circles into your clit just before applying ample suction against you with his lips, not unwilling to make a mess of himself in the process and, from what you can tell, all the more delighted in doing so as his face glistens with each time that he pulls away to reposition — with eyes screwed shut and one arm tossed over your face in an attempt to stay grounded, the other reaches down, finding its way along the top of his head, fingers curling into hair that only hours earlier you were neatly decorating and clipping into place — hair now entangled and tightly gripped as Wooyoung makes alarmingly quick work of your body from your living room floor.

Bringing a hand up, he delicately presses one finger in, finding little resistance, and adds a second upon his following drive into you. Hand pumping into you at a slow, almost excruciating pace, Wooyoung focuses all of the attention on sucking you harder, faster with the way that your breaths pick up and become weaker, whines higher pitched than before — and if you weren't close before, the additional stimulation gets you climbing that peak all that much faster, gripping hard into his hair as you whimper out his name again, this time far more broken than the time previously.

But like a good man, he doesn't stop — bringing his eyes up to watch as you fall apart above him, you open your eyes only briefly to take in the sight, his eyes smiling back at you with the pretty little adornment of the beauty mark just beneath one.

You cuss, grinding hard down and against his mouth, and come undone against him just like that. Wooyoung sucks you through your orgasm, shallowly pressing fingers into you before removing them altogether as your high dissipates. Chest heaving, you lie in the afterglow of your peak, eyes still closed from exhaustion in the aftermath.

Wooyoung chuckles from between your legs. Cracking open your eyes, you find him settled back and on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looks at you with unbridled satisfaction.

“I've been dying to do that,” he finally says, leaning forward and snaking the palms of his hands up your bare thighs, thumbs catching on the hem of your shirt and pressing upwards with insistence that you allow him to remove it. You grant him the access, pulling your back off of the couch long enough for him to pull the fabric up and over your head and watching as he happily tosses it elsewhere before leaning down and pressing his mouth against your own again.

The kiss is brief though, before a man on a mission makes his way back down from where he came but with stops along the journey — nimble hands reaching around the back of you and working to remove your bra — before you even have a moment to settle, plump, warm lips and tongue press into your now exposed flesh and the feeling of him; so encompassing and overwhelming has you squirming in desire beneath him as if you hadn't just come already.

“I need you,” he whispers into your skin, tongue circling your nipple between commentary. “Please, I need to feel you so bad, you drive me crazy.”

You're not sure what it is, the unabashed neediness or just the fact that it's him or maybe even the combination of the two — a man so young and famous and sexy that he could have anyone he desired and yet right now, in this moment, he makes you feel as though the only person or thing he's ever desired so badly in his life...is you.

It's as if the burning throb of arousal never even left you.

“Noona, please.”

It wasn't typically something that did it for you, and in fact, you never understood why it really 'did it' for anyone — but you had to be honest, it was working for you now.

Needy whining, begging, spilling from Wooyoung as his mouth lingers across the expanse of exposed skin. You ask him to take his shirt off and he follows through immediately, only to come back up to pick up where he had left off, but the feeling of his own hot skin against your own only serving to light you up even further.

“Switch places,” you whisper to him, and he follows order without question, pulling up quickly and allowing you space between his legs. Palms grazing over the top of his thighs, you smile up at him at the sight before you. “Same sweats as that one night?”

“Coincidence,” he answers, voice already slightly broken at the implications of what's to come, so you waste no time gripping into the waistband of his pants and pulling down his legs, freeing him and finally becoming more acquainted with what it was that had your interest really piqued since that night only a couple of weeks prior.

“Don't seem so tough now, you know,” you mock, taking his length into your hand and lazily pumping him, his eyes glued to the way you make contact on him.

“Wait until I get you in the bedroom,” he answers, tone lower and less broken now — as if snapping back to reality to assert some form of dominance that had never really had a place in the interaction prior.

You inch forward, taking him into your mouth shallowly, tongue wrapping circles along the tip as he melts into your mouth — both hands coming forward to hold onto your hair. He's not rough, and not assuming the pace, but with every press down of your mouth along him you take him deeper and deeper, his mouth dropping open just that much more at the feeling of your warmth along his shaft.

“Feel so good, you feel so good,” he chants under his breath as you bob along him — a steady rhythm but not so fast with intent to get him there, Wooyoung's head falls back to take in the feeling. “That's it baby, you take it so well.”

The praise has your pussy throbbing all over again, pace on his cock quickening unbeknownst to you just at the prospect of what other filthy things will fall from those beautiful lips.

So, you play along.

Pulling off of him briefly and replacing the sensation with your hand, you look up at him, quickly fisting him and occasionally licking a circle around the tip. “Yeah? That why you like older women? Like the experience?”

Wooyoung groans at the words as if you accidentally stumbled upon some kink that he hadn't made you all that privy to to begin with, hips bucking up into your hand as his eyebrows furrow, “Yeah, know your way around a cock, don't you?”

“I do,” you answer, stuffing him back into your mouth without warning and taking him down a few times just to listen to him groan deeply at the sight and sensation before pulling back up. “Hoping I fucked that guy back there just so you could be sure?”

“Little bit,” he chuckles through a whine as you continue to jerk him off along side the conversation. “Kinda like hearing about it, too.”

“Nasty boy,” you tease in reply, licking a stripe up his shaft before circling around the head of his cock again and watching the way his eyes roll back.

But just as suddenly, Wooyoung snaps forward, pulling your hand off of him and standing up to pull you with him towards the bedroom. “This one?” he asks, simultaneously shoving you inside of it as if the answer you provided wouldn't have matter to begin with, but you assure him that it is, in fact, the correct room as he continues pulling you towards the bed — turning to lie himself on it first before reaching for your wrist and pulling you down to straddle his hips.

You assume the position, grinding gently against his length as he brings you into a sloppy kiss again, you pull off of him not long thereafter, hands flat against his chest as you slide against him.

“All this talk just so I can ride you, eh? Lazy boy,” you say with the same teasing voice as before.

But Wooyoung shakes his head, hands quickly making their way up the length of your thighs and settling on your waist as you hover above his aching cock.

“I just have to see you ride my cock, please, I'll fuck you stupid afterwards, I'll have you begging for it, baby—“ he pleads, one hand slipping down between the two of you to align himself with your entrance, other hand gently pulling you down onto his shaft as he continues on. “—Wanted me to fill you up that night, but I'll do it tonight instead.”

It's an unfortunate giveaway the way his words have such an affect on you, already nearly fully seated on him when the nasty implications of the plans he has for you that evening drop from his sinful lips — walls clenching hard around him, so much so that he groans at the feeling as you sink down to fully take him in. Wooyoung's fingers dig into the skin of your hips as you gently begin to rock against him, thick girth of him tugging at you in all of the ways that you knew it would when you saw it — so full and stretched that even the slightest movement pulls at your clit as you ride him ever so delicately. You whimper shortly thereafter at the feeling he provides you, your nails now digging into the skin of his chest as he watches the space between the both of your hips — watching how your cunt struggles to accommodate his size and yet does so regardless, he allows his head to fall back against the mattress, taking in the feeling of the moment as you bite back your pathetic, flustered, sounds.

“Feel so good, baby,” he finally says, rubbing your thighs as you attempt to ride him to any useful degree. “Is it what you wanted? When you thought about it, is it better?” he adds, pressing his hips up ever so slightly to meet your own as you drop down onto him, a louder hiss dropping from you at the added friction.

“Awww,” he coos teasingly as he watches the way you struggle on top of him. “Mommy's good at talking but not so good at taking it, huh?”

You're not proud of the way that sentence goes straight to your pooling arousal.

And just as quickly, Wooyoung pulls you off of him to switch you places, pressing your back to the mattress as he adjusts himself between your legs.

“I can come in you?” he asks suddenly, and it feels almost random, as if breaking scene in a film. So sudden that you almost don't catch it, but coming back to reality, you nod.

“Uh, y—yeah.”

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun,” he replies, leaning back down and pressing his chest into your own to kiss you — head of his cock teasingly dangling just against your pussy and occasionally grazing your sensitive clit, you press your hips up and into him in an attempt to make the contact that you want, Wooyoung chuckling devilishly against the skin of your chin and neck as you struggle to achieve what you set out for.

“Not as good at taking my cock as I thought you'd be,” he playfully pouts, lips attaching into the skin just at the juncture of your neck and shoulder to suck red and purple blotches into it. “But mommy, you were supposed to be so good.”

The tone in which the words drop from his lips, quite evidently mocking, playful, toying with you and the idea of the age play of it all. You knew that this was part of it for him, you had been warned.

But you didn't know it was going to do it for you, in addition.

“Guess we have to try again,” he whispers, lips trailing up a bit higher and just under your ear. “Probably better off if I'm in control, huh?”

With that, Wooyoung begins his slow drive into you once again — for a man that talks so much about your inability to take him, and being in control, you find his attention to your comfort almost surprising — not taking it quickly and giving you ample time to adjust to the intrusion even in spite of it not being the first time that night that you had taken him, once bottomed out, he settles for a few moments; kissing and sucking along your neck, along with babbling words of affirmation and encouragement all the while before pulling his hips back and slowly pressing forward once again.

The fullness of him is almost stifling, though — and paired with the fact that he won't shut the fuck up through it.

Five or six more delicate drives into you and Wooyoung begins to settle into a more fluid pace, rocking his hips against your own with hard impact but not entirely quick, every push of his cock into you more brutal than the last as he hovers above you and watches the way your face contorts with glee.

“Look at you, so good,” he groans in between snaps of his hips, hands flat against the mattress and on either side of your head to watch the way your cunt takes him. “Aww, I was wrong, you take my cock so well, I knew you would.”

Clenching hard around him with praise, your hands clasp around his arms, nails digging into the tan, hot skin with every drive of himself against you — the sound of wet skin against skin reverberating through your bedroom, and more than that, the sight of Wooyoung's bottom lip sucked up and between his teeth — arms and chest flexing with every movement of his hips.

The familiar feeling of your impending orgasm felt building once again at a particularly hard thrust from him, you cry out, catching his attention. Wooyoung slows, not entirely sure of how to take the sound, but is just as quickly met with your babbling and begging of him not to stop, to which he grins and resumes his rough pace into you.

Leaning down and wrapping an arm up and under your shoulder for more leverage to pull your body down and against him, chest to chest like this, Wooyoung continues his previous ministrations on your skin with his mouth, nipping and sucking at the skin of your neck, collar bones, jaw and mouth as he fucks hard into you — harder now with the positioning, you cry out again and louder even, much to his delight.

“Fuck, Wooyoung—“ you whisper against his mouth, feeling your orgasm threatening in the not so distant future.

“Yeah baby?” he coos back, so gentle in tone and completely opposing the brutality of the way he's fucking you. “Gonna come? Gonna come for me? Just from my cock, nothing else?”

You nod wildly, the way he's talking to you bringing you to the edge even faster — muscles tightening in your abdomen and losing the ability to verbally communicate to much extent at all.

“Good, good, you're so good,” he babbles into your skin, grip on your shoulder tightening even more. “Love it when you say my name, God you're so perfect.”

You whine, pulling forward to press your mouth into his shoulder just in front of you.

“Want me to come inside of you now? Make you mine? You know I want to so bad, want to fill you up so bad.”

Your insides twist at the way he's nearly begging to, despite already having been given the go ahead to do so. All a part of the game, you figure.

It's working, though.

You nod again, but Wooyoung brings his free hand over and to your clit, taking it between his fingers and thumb to force you into eye contact with him.

“Gotta say it, noona, can you say it for me?”

Your fingers dig into him harder, you're reaching inevitability much faster than you had originally intended with the way that he's talking to you, and the anticipation of just what it is he'll say next.

You knew he was gonna be a wild ride, but you didn't anticipate him to be this much of a freak.

“God, noona, please say it, please noona say you want me to come in you, I want to so bad.”

“Wooyoung, Jesus, I'm gonna—“

But he stills, cock buried deep inside of you as you whine at the loss of your incoming peak, shocked at the fact that he would do it.

You're not proud of your next step, either.

“Wooyoung, please, please, don't stop—“ you beg, trying to fuck yourself onto him in an attempt to reach your orgasm, and he does start a drive into you again, albeit much more delicate and less hearty than previous.

“Wow, so whiny,” he chides against your ear, shallowly thrusting into your soaking wet cunt with no intention behind it at all. “I'll give you what you want noona — thick, young, cock to come around, yeah?” he whispers, the words sending chills down your spine paired with the way that the tip of his length dips in and out of you teasingly.

“That what you want?” he whispers again.

“Yes,” you whine in response.

“Want me to come in you too, don't you?” he adds, nose nuzzling into the side of your face as he begins a proper push of his length back inside of you. “Fill you up? Pump a nice, hot load into your tight little cunt?”

It's the first time in the night that his dirty talk had been so lewd, so filthy. Slow drive of his cock back into you and even with the tiniest friction that it provides, just the words alone have you building back up to that place that only moments ago he had stripped from you just as quickly.

You'll do and say anything, now.

“Yes, Wooyoung, please,” you whisper, his hips snapping into you two, three times at the words. “Please daddy—“

The both of you stop as a point of both shock and confusion, neither expecting the word dropping out so suddenly, and not one typically on your repertoire, but Wooyoung seems to take it happily and in stride with an accompanying small giggle, quickly falling into the role that is required of him and driving hard against your hips at the pace once lost all over again — teeth baring against your cheek as he does so.

“Daddy? Well I wasn't planning on it but if you want it so bad,” Wooyoung grits out, reaching down with one hand and pulling one of your legs up and out. “I can fuck a baby into you, too. That why you want me to fill you up so bad? Want me to give you one?”

“Oh my God, Wooyoung, I—“ you groan, nails digging so hard into his skin that you fear you may actually hurt him, muscles in your abdomen tightening so suddenly, so hardly that it takes you by surprise — thick cock still pounding hard into you at an even better angle now, and Wooyoung begins kissing against your skin again.

“Feel so good around me, God, noona, come for me baby, milk me dry, wanna feel you come around my dick.”

muscles locking up, sound catching in your throat, your orgasm rips through your body with little more warning and nearly silently — stilling beneath the man as he continues to fuck you through your high, chasing his own and praising you through it as you do.

“Gonna come baby,” he groans at the impending orgasm of his own. Pulling up and off of you slightly he looks back down between the two of you before meeting your fucked out gaze again and screwing his own eyes shut. “Fuck, noona, fuck you full of me, God I'll ruin this pussy, yeah?”

Two, three more drives into you, Wooyoung buries his cock deep before stilling, head dropping as he growls through his release into you — gentle, shallow thrusts accompanying him as he begins to pull himself out of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ he whispers as he finally expels his body from yours completely at the feeling of the overstimulation on his dick, flopping over onto the side of you and clenching his eyes shut for a moment as he attempts to steady his breathing in the aftermath.

Even having had more time to settle than him, you're not that much better off.

Silence takes the room beyond heavy breathing, you look over to take in the sight of the light sheen of sweat adorning the man's beautiful body, unsure if you'll ever even get the chance to enjoy this again — if you were to want to, that is. Wooyoung cards his fingers through black and gold hair, pulling most off of his slick forehead before turning to you to meet your gaze. Somewhat embarrassed upon having been caught looking at him, he only smiles gently, as if to tell you that it's okay. That the two of you are past such silly formalities, as it were.

“Hey,” you whisper, searching for his stray hand among the crumpled sheets beneath you.

“Yeah?”

“You're kind of a sicko, you know that?”

Wooyoung laughs, so much so and with such a dry throat that it sends him into a coughing fit as a result. You reach for a bottled water that you have on your nightstand and hand it to him for him to lubricate with, clearing his throat and handing the bottle back to you before attempting to respond to such accusations.

“Maybe so,” he finally says. “But you sure liked it. What's that say about you?”

“Who knows,” you reply, staring at the ceiling as if soul searching for the answers to such questions. “Maybe we're just particularly, disgustingly matched.”

“Maybe so.” Wooyoung nods, adjusting comfortably into the bed beneath him.

On the last day of filming, everything carries on as normal.

You're not entirely sure what story Wooyoung told the others as to why he never came home last night — having slept the rest of the night with you and the two of you having to devise quite the plan to leave from the same place and arrive to the same place without anyone being in on the pick up, but you figure that you manage with no bizarre or questioning looks upon your entry — and Wooyoung already seated and waiting, ready for you to begin to get to work on him.

As he ticks away on his phone, you lean down towards his head questioningly.

“Did you use my shampoo?”

“What was I supposed to use?”

“Probably not the thing that smells like me?”

You watch in the reflection as he stops for a moment to mull the concept over, quite evidently having not thought about it prior to this moment, only to shrug and go back to typing on his phone.

After shooting wraps and everyone is saying their goodbyes, you thank the members and their staff for the warm welcoming and all of their help to make sure that the work environment was comfortable and smooth for you. For Hongjoong and Wooyoung especially — who you worked with most closely — the two hug you, sending you on your way, but not before Hongjoong makes some snide comment about finally being able to escape Wooyoung.

It was true, that you would finally escape the grip of that man, however, wanting to escape? You weren't so sure.

Gently tossing your belongings into the back of a taxi, you climb in and pull your seatbelt over you, reaching towards your purse and pulling out your phone to see what your next schedule would be for the upcoming weeks, only to find a text on your phone that had come in hours prior.

>big trouble: let me see you again (not just sex way)

˚₊· ��͟͞͞➳❥ hope you enjoyed! please check out my navigation for more (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

[pacifierbby]

* ੈ✩‧₊ THE CEOS ASSISTANT

* ੈ✩‧₊ Landos' dad has taken ill rather quickly, and everyone in the Norris enterprise knows about it. Some are upset that they won't get a perfect boss like he was, but some are more sceptical about who the Norris Enterprises are taking on to be the boss of this place. Everyone asked Lilly, the CEO's assistant, but like she told everyone, she didn't know. It wasn't until Monday came around, everyone at their desk doing their work, when a man came in very nicely dressed in a black suit with a Rolex on the left wrist. Lilly had seen this man before, but where? It was when he only got closer that she knew it was Mr. Norris, son. Will there be hatred during her time working with lando or will there be something more between them?

୨ৎ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 LN4 x female

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 swearing, slight toxicity , rude lando, kissing , sexual innuendos.

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 1,268

(ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)

CHAPTER ONE: ̗̀➛ work has been nothing but busy since you found out that Mr Norris has taken ill going out of your payroll to do jobs that Mr Norris did including your own cancelling all his upcoming meetings and clients you have been his assistant for two years. Still, Mr Norris took you under his wing immediately making you feel respected in the job always making sure that nothing was too stressful explaining stuff to you if you didn't understand it.

when you found out he was rushed into hospital you instantly went to visit him thanking him for everything you did "Sweetie you brought everything I needed and so much more you are like a daughter to me" the words that you never thought would come out of his mouth because to others he was abrupt but that's what he needs to do when he's got a business to keep going for his family. so when you found out he was going to give the business to one of his sons yes you were hesitant wondering what the new boss was going to be like but Mr Norris promised you that you would be just fine. giving you the slight confidence you needed. telling him to take care and enjoy his early retirement

When the word got around to Norris Enterprises everyone went up to you some asking if he was okay some just being extra nosey wanting to know who the new boss was going to be which you told them you really didn't know some believed you and carried on with their day some tried to get more out of you.

Mr. Norris gives you rules on what to do while you wait for the new boss, which you obviously wrote down going through every bullet point when you arrived at work the following day to ensure you didn't miss anything. You did wish he hurried up and joined, but you knew that one of his sons was really busy at the moment.

Walking into work, all the colleagues surrounding the foyer talking amongst themselves, walking towards Stephanie at the main desk, "What's happening?" You asked, "The new boss is in today, so everyone wants a first glance. " Nodding "they're like horny vultures want to know who he is. I have seen a photo of Mr. Norris's son, but it may not be him. " Stephanie laughed a little nodding her head, agreeing with your statement. ''Ladies and gents, please return to your workplace. Nothing to see here!" Your voice boomed, echoing around the foye, people scattered to their offices. Turning around, picking up your papers for the day, winking at Stephanie, See you later", heading towards your office.

Placing everything on your desk and quickly turning on your PC the lavender defuser instantly hits your nose giving you some slight comfort for today. going through your paperwork and the calendar for today writing down all the information that you need to bring to Mr Norris when he comes in hearing soft whispers through your office door ignoring it thinking it was your colleagues when the voices began getting louder. getting up from the comfort of your chair walking towards your office door softly opening it seeing your colleagues all standing in front of their desks confused peering around your door to see a nicely dressed man in a black suit on his left wrist a Rolex watch hugging it stepping outside noticing she has seen this man before but where? racking her small little brain remembering a small little photo frame placed in front of Mr Norris computer a small little chill taking over her body remembering it was Mr Norris younger son. standing up straighter her hands instantly going in front of her trying to give a better impression of herself Mr Norris standing in front of her "This is your assistant Miss Tomlinson" Stephanie softly spoke introducing the both of you your hand reaching out him looking at it ignoring it "meet me in my office in 30 mins please" straightening his jacket walking past you how rude you thought huffing Stephanie turning around with a quick sorry look showing the dickhead to his office turning around walking back into your office preparing your day with that dickhead.

walking towards Mr Norris's office door checking yourself in the glass pulling your skirt down a little softly knocking on his door "Come in" a voice shouted opening the door his blazer hanging behind his chair his sleeves higher just below his elbows. leaning back on his chair "Sir I have your schedules for today and new contracts for you to look over" placed them on his desk nodding towards the chair that was in front of him "Sit down" he softly spoke surprised from the counter that he did earlier briefly looking at the contracts "what's my agenda for today" looking down at the notes "well you have a meeting with Mr Riley at 10 talking about one of the contracts then you have another meeting at two for a hotel that is being built" you said softly "i thought ill only give you two for today make it easy" you said scared of the outcome "well uh thank you that really does help" nodding standing up "ill see you at 10" walking towards his door "um sorry Lilly I just want to say thank you for looking after my father while I was out of town" shocked from his sudden confession "it's okay" smiling softly walking out of his office maybe he isn't a dick after all.

walking towards the meeting room Mr Norris stood outside "Shall we start?" you softly spoke your papers hugging your chest and opening the door seeing the contractors already sitting and waiting. walking towards the front of the table Sitting next to Mr Norris connecting your laptop to the projector. begging the meeting you knew these people were hard to deal with Mr Norris's father was having trouble with them last year you could tell he was having trouble with winning this deal removing your eyes from your notes to around the room your eyes instantly falling on Mr Norris face seeing his eyebrows knotted together a frown upon his face. looking at his small little features you can say he was pretty fit but you can't think that he is your boss after all "Isn't that right Miss Tomlinson" your thoughts instantly getting interrupted "Yes yes" you quickly spoke not too sure what you agreed on Mr Norris looking at you weirdly" Mr Riley smiling at you both " well we will be coming tomorrow with our contracts" standing up shaking his hand and the other man that you really didn't get the name off when you sorted this meeting on the phone yesterday

walking out of the meeting room making sure you had everything "Miss Tomlinson" looked up to see Mr Norris standing with his hands in his pockets giving you some slight effect "You did well in there but are you okay? You looked slightly flustered" was it that noticeable? you thought "I'm okay thank you, Mr Norris, thank you" Looking at your shoes something more interesting at the moment "Well take the rest of the day off we have a big day tomorrow and call me Lando, not Mr Norris that was my father" laughing a little thinking about the confusion looking up from your shoes nodding your head quickly walking back to your office getting out of that situation you can't fall for the boss Lilly don't be stupid he's your old boss son!. telling yourself grabbing your belongings wanting to stay away from Lando for a few hours.

© pacifierbby works

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ✧˖*°࿐ @sltwins , @eloriis

[angellayercake]

There was a mouse in the house

Haarlep x Female Tav and Raphael x Female Tav (kind of) | NSFW

Warnings: cunniligus, p in v sex, voyeurism kind of? So I have not been able to play this game yet but this man has possessed me and something happened and yeah. I am going purely off a couple of youtube videos, vibes and horniness. It all started when Haarlep said that the host of they body they use feels everything they are doing which obviously means Raphael was well aware of what was going on in the boudoir.

He felt it the moment she set foot into the House of Hope. His fist tightened around the glass of wine he was holding and his artfully designed smile turned brittle at the edges as he felt the not unremarkable wards around his sanctuary open for an unauthorised portal. The potential client he was currently entertaining was none the wiser to his sudden inattention but he had hardly been paying attention to their prattling to begin with. His little mouse had decided to bite the hand that would have so willingly fed it, if she had only agreed to his generous offer. He hated to admit it even now but her continued refusal to work with him, even when he had already offered her so much had stung. He had allowed his ill advised affection for this particular client to cloud his typically impeccable judgement and as he should have foreseen, it was now being thrown back in his face. 

There was only one thing she could possibly be after, that which he would have freely given, well not freely but for such a reasonable price. But his house was not so hospitable to intruders. There was time yet to finish his business here. It may not be the soul he wanted but it was a soul nonetheless. He refocuses his attention on the task at hand, carefully choosing his words as he weaves his web around the man sitting before him. It’s easy work so he has to try that little bit harder to temper the simmering rage that is growing inside him. But then it is done, business concluded and he can see to his little thieving mouse.

As he is preparing to travel he feels the first shiver run down his spine. Surely Haarlep was not entertaining when there was a little thief on the loose and yet there was no mistaking that feeling. He pauses in the doorway of his rented room, uncharacteristically affected by his Incubus’ antics but something tells him to wait. There were only a few plausible possibilities for who could be the target of his servants attentions but before he can squash it his traitorous mind informs him exactly who he wants it to be. As soon as her name flits across his mind his body begins to betray him. 

His desperation for her to sign his contract, become one of his souls, well deep down he had been aware that this masked a much deeper, more primal want. How he wanted to own her body and mind as much as he craved ownership of her soul. Better not to dwell on those things, he had told himself, over and over. His needs were simple and really he could only rely on himself so why even risk letting anyone else close. But as he succumbs to the ghostly feeling of his body being touched by another he knows he is at the brink of his undoing. 

With a snap of his fingers his clothes are gone and as he falls back onto the suddenly convenient bed in his rented rooms, he concentrates on the vague tingling caresses in a way he hasn’t indulged in such a long time, until they begin to feel almost tangible. It seems his incubus is taking his time with this one, feeling and tasting as much as he can. He feels soft warm skin against his tongue, the taste unfortunately alluding him but he can almost imagine it as he recalls the spicy earthy scent that lingers around her every time they meet. In his hand he feels a soft breast cupped in his palm, a pebbled nipple circled by the pad of his thumb. He yearns to pinch it between his fingers, pull and twist it until she was gasping her pleasure into his mouth but he is restricted by whatever it is Haarlep choses to do next and when he feels her other perfect nipple against his tongue he can’t suppress a groan.

The floodgates were opened as his phantom teeth nibbled at her, every thought he had buried about her ample bosom, always so perfectly displayed in her coquettishly revealing armour, situated just so to tease and tantalise. He had never allowed the thought to linger previously, as well as any potential attraction she may have had towards him but now, knowing that she had requested Haarlep to take his form was confirmation enough. He could picture her as easily as he could feel her, she would be completely nude, the incubus would have insisted, spread out against his crimson sheets, her skin glowing in a beautiful contrast. He would find every mark and blemish on her left by any other inferior being and cover them with his own, made by his claws or his teeth until there was no doubt who she belonged to. He only hoped that Haarlep mapped her body as carefully as he needed so he could explore them all at his leisure. The smooth expanses of skin passing over his hands and lips filled him with hope that that was exactly what was happening at his house. 

He was more aroused then he could remember but he needed more even as he was hesitant to take things further himself. His cock even in his human shell stood erect between his legs, untouched though it was, and he had to fist his hands into the coarse sheets below him to avoid ending this encounter before it had truly begun. He felt his tongue trace what he only could guess was her belly button and his heart began to race at the destination the incubus was journeying towards. He settles back against the pillows as he imagined himself settling between her legs, his fingers spreading open her sweet cunt which would be already glistening with the slick evidence of her arousal just tempting him to taste. He feels her folds against the flat of his tongue, his own watering mouth simulating her wetness for him. He doesn’t need to but he finds himself simulating the movements he can feel, rolling his tongue against thin air as he would if he had her there to feast on himself.  

His hands must leave her thighs because he is all of a sudden blindsided by the vice like heat around his fingers. How excited she must be for the incubus’ thick fingers to sink into her with so little resistance although her cunt doesn’t seem to want to relinquish them as she clenches tight around them as they slide out of her. So close, she must be so close to cuming for him and he writhes, desperate to hear the sounds she would make as he pushed her to the point of oblivion. How her laboured breathing might feel against his heated skin, how she might moan or gasp or scream his name in her ecstasy. The feel of her around his fingers and tongue is suddenly gone, ripping him gasping from his fantasy and he feels bereft, sucking in heaving breaths as he remembers where he is but he is not left adrift for long, his hands finding contact with her soft skin once again. The feel of her grounds him even as the real sensation belongs to his incubus. In his fevered arousal he struggles to catch up with the pair of them, heated hands grasping at his shoulders, frantic lips biting at his own, a strong leg hooking over his hip pulling him in as close as he can get.   

It’s only when he feels the head of his cock lining up to her entrance that everything comes back into focus. He knows Haarlep and he knows exactly how he will tease her now he has her exactly where he wants her. He feels the drag of her folds over the head of his cock coating himself in her slick and stroking against her clit. He hopes she is begging now, begging to be filled by him. He would keep her waiting too, until there were tears falling down her cheeks and she could do nothing but whimper his name. He feels the tip breach her and then stop. He can’t bring himself to move as he waits with bated breath for her to be forced to take him fully and he waits and waits. He feels the spasms in his abdomen as everything is pulled taught and he spares a thought as he often does for his incubus’ impossible will power as he resists the temptation of her clenching hole. 

He begins to move so slowly, easing his thick cock into her inch by inch. Every time he thrusts he pushes a little deeper. She opens up for him so beautifully and he yearns to feel how wet she is for himself. He can’t help thrusting in time with Haarlep as he imagines her there with him now, riding his needy cock and having to work her way down his length until she could take all of him. He is straining against his horribly empty bed when his cock is finally sheathed in her soft wet heat and even the ghost of the sensation is enough to finish him. His climax hits him like a wall, muscles clenching as the pleasure shudders through his body. He arches off the bed as he spills his seed across his own chest, too high on his pleasure to even begin to feel shame at finishing untouched.  

He should move, he knows this but his limbs feel heavy and light simultaneously and he wishes to bask in this feeling for a moment longer. It is as he catches his breath he realises that the portal his little thief had used to breach his walls has closed. How curious. He acknowledged that he had lain here perhaps a little too long but surely not long enough for them to fight their way through the house and claim their stolen prize. Perhaps this little adventure of hers needn’t be the end of their game. He sits up preparing to rebuild his composure and return to assess the damage her and her party of misfits had left in their wake but he can’t keep the smile from his face. ‘Oh little mouse, you know not what you have started.’

[drawing-prompt-s]

GoFundMe: Getting the kitten to the vet...

for a rabies shot, FIV testing, and a possible upper respiratory infection!

So someone sent in the last $305 I needed while I was asleep. I'm transferring it to my account now which means I'm a) shutting off the GFM as soon as the transfers process and b) taking in the kitten as soon as the money becomes available to me - so likely by Friday I'll take her in, or Saturday or Monday (they do half days Saturday, and are closed Monday).

GoFundMe Link Paypal Link

Venmo Link Cashapp Link

Multiple payment options available because I am typically asked for alternatives to GFM and PP.

$350 / $350

-------------

INFORMATION + VIDEO UNDER THE CUT!

From the GoFundMe description:

Hello!

So, unplanned, there is a new kitten in the house as of Feb. 22, 2024. (Not Jolene's, she is fixed). When at my friend's house - where I will be moving in a few months - we found out that a cat that comes to visit often is not only owned, but a mom. However, the neighbor doesn't want the kittens, so he always puts them outside and leaves them there. I could no, in my right mind, leave the kitten outside by a trashcan and under a tire in February of all months, so I brought her home.

So far I have treated her for hookworms, given her the vaccines I can do myself, and looked into getting a spay voucher from one of the local shelters. The kitten is roughly 3 months old.

However, current concerns are that she may have an upper respiratory infection (and there is always the concern that she could be FIV+). She has an inflamed eye with a regular and concerning amount of discharge and has for a few days. I have also caught her sneezing and she has started coughing on more than a few occasions. She also has a few other signs of sickness - anemia, the runs, and some blood spotted in it. If it is a URI, I need to catch it as fast as possible because I also have Jolene, my 3 year old cat. She absolutely also needs FIV testing and a rabies shot because of that, and because where we are moving there are other cats.

Jolene and the kitten have both been getting along well. The kitten loves to follow her around and Jolene acts more like the disgruntled big sister (don't let her fool you, I have caught them playing regularly - she just needs her alone adult time too).

I have already altered a bit of my projected finances and removed money from my savings to care for the kitten and help her. But there is only so far that can go as I also need to be able to afford gas, food, and furniture for the upcoming move (I'm going to start buying things soon so I can put it together and move my stuff prior to the official move date). I was trying to put off a full vet visit until sending the kitten in for a spay, but with her eye and the possibility of infection spreading to other cats, it can no longer wait.

I am shutting off this GFM as soon as I reach the goal. The vet said to budget for a little more than $300, between the base cost of a visit, FIV testing, rabies, and potential treatment for an Upper Respiratory Infection- assuming it's nothing too major. And I added a little more to what I am expecting because GFM does take a fee from donations.

If the kitten does end up being FIV+ we do have rehoming options available or I will find someone better suited to handle an FIV+ cat (either already having one of their own or a home with no pets).

I tried to take a video of the eye, but as you can imagine, a 3 month old kitten isn't the most keen on staying still, haha.

-------------

Let me add in the breakdown as well, now that I think about it:

Base cost for my vet to see a new cat (even as a pre-established client with other cats treated there): $100

FIV testing: $40

Rabies (and other vaccines I may be missing I was unable to do myself): $35 - $45

And the vet recommended budgeting about $100 for medications depending on what they find (if she still has worms, if she has other parasites due to being outside untreated, if she has a URI like the current concern is): $100

The rest is tax, the % upcharge for using a card, and to negate the fees that GFM with-drawls from each donation.

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 1)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Arguing, and Name Calling

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Five years later, Rafe makes an unplanned stop at a diner that reveals a secret that Y/N has been keeping from him.

Masterlist

Y/N wipes the counter with a clean rag, looking up at the clock across the wall. Three more hours until Stella is dropped off from daycare. “If you think rubbing that spot over and over again will make a genie appear and you can wish for her to be here faster, then I’m sorry to say that you are going to be disappointed,” Harvey jokes, following her gaze to the clock. She stops cleaning, “Sorry, I just miss her so much. I think I’m PMSing.” “Sure, we can blame it on your period,” he laughs. Y/N pushes him over in annoyance, escaping to her back office to hopefully make the time go faster. 

She smiles at the picture of the grandma on the desk, settling on her chair to order more inventory. Her life plans weren’t exactly to take over the diner, yet it’s not like she was planning on having a baby at twenty either. Y/N was left the diner in her grandma’s will and she took it so that it could stay in the family. There are no regrets in either of those decisions. Sure, she didn’t get her big break in LA or New York, but she would never dream of trading her daughter for anything in the world. Stella Y/L/N is the light of her life, even if she is the spinning image of her dad. Stella is all Y/N’s and that’s all that matters. She may have Rafe’s eyes, but she has Y/N’s sense of humour. Her lips are the same as his, but she loves the same movies as her mom. Her hair colour may match his, but she also has the same bad habit of biting her nails as her mom. 

Y/N focuses on the words on her screen when Harvey comes running into her office. “A total hunk just came into the restaurant and I have been ordered by Patty to come get you. She thinks he can be your soulmate. Says to let you take his table,” he informs, pointing behind him with his thumb. Y/N shakes her head, “I’m the owner. I really should be the one telling you to take tables, but I won’t disappoint Patty. I’ll be out in a second.” Harvey nods and heads back out to check on his customers. She finishes up the order she was working on, fixing her shirt before heading out the door. 

The sound of a door opening draws Rafe’s attention and his heart stops at the scent of vanilla he hasn’t smelt in five years. Even if it was only one night, he has been haunted by the wearer of that scent for years. His eyes land on her and he can’t believe he gets to see her again. Her smile is still as brilliant. Y/N heads behind the counter to get an apron and his insides collapse in on himself as he watches her smile dim at his sight. He doesn’t know why she would be upset at him. She was the one who left in the morning without a word. Suddenly, the face on his watch needs to be constantly adjusted.

As Y/N exits her office, she has to stop herself from screaming at the man sitting in the booth. She could never forget him; a living reminder of him literally came out of her vagina almost four years ago. Fear creeps into her brain. The only possible reason he could be here after all these years is because of that living reminder.  With the resources he has, he would most certainly win custody over Stella and Y/N couldn’t allow that to happen. But maybe he doesn’t know about her. If he did, then wouldn’t it make more sense to bring a lawyer with him? She decides to find out why he is really here first before she goes on the defence as she walks over to take his order.  

“What are you doing here?” she grits through bared teeth. He gives her a confused look, “I had a meeting with clients. I thought I would stop to get something to eat before heading back to the Outer Banks.”

Her expression lightens up at his words. “So you aren’t here to see me?” His head moves from side to side, “No. I mean that night was amazing, but I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I’m just hungry.” He notices that her eyes keep glancing towards the clock and the nail of her thumb is being gripped by her teeth. He wonders why she looks so worried all of a sudden. 

“Okay, good. I mean cool. What can I get you? A burger? Salad? Pie?” 

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down, Buttercup. Why are you in such a rush? Aren’t you going to get my drink order first?”

“Right. Of course. What can I get you to drink?”

“A coffee, please.” 

Rafe had never seen a woman run away from him so fast before and he has got to say that he is offended. He doesn’t know what he did to garner such a reaction from her, but he vows to make it up to her. His hand goes up to his mouth, so he can check his breath. Smells fine. The mug of coffee is quickly placed in front of him and she practically forces him to give her his food order right at this second. 

Y/N hands the order to Patty in the kitchen, “Pat, I need you to focus on this order, please. Get it out first and as fast as you can.” The older woman’s eyebrow shoots up. “That’s a little unusual, but I can do that for you, honey. Can you watch the other food then for me, please?” she asks. Y/N does as asks and makes sure the chicken tenders in the fryer don’t burn. Patty gets Rafe’s food done in a jiffy and Y/N takes it out to him. She stays behind the counter, looking between the clock and Rafe eating every so often. She swears she has never seen someone eat so slowly. He has to be doing this on purpose. He can feel her gaze on him and he has pieced together that something must be coming that she doesn’t want him to see. His curiosity gets the best of him, so he decides to make this lunch last.

The jingle of a bell above the door catches his attention. He turns to see a little girl run into the diner and round the counter to the woman standing behind it. “Mommy,” she screams, jumping into Y/N’s arms. With a clear view of the girl now that she is being carried by her mom, Rafe can now see her in more detail. 

The long locks that frame her face are the same muddy blonde colour as his. Her eyes match his ocean-blue ones. And she definitely inherited the shape of his lips. He tries to do the math in his head. He isn’t great at guessing kids’ age. She looks about three, maybe four. So four years plus the ten months of pregnancy, that child is almost certainly his. He feels like his world is falling in on itself. How could he not know that he had a little girl? Did she know she had a daddy? He promised himself if he ever had a kid that they would never feel the same way about him as he does about his dad. But he did one step worse by not even being in his daughter’s life. Anger starts to fill him and he knows he needs to find a way to manage it before he lets it out on the wrong person. 

“Stells, what are you doing back so early?” Y/N questions her grinning daughter, moving the hair out of the girl’s face. She nods along to the explanation about daycare ending early today, so Mrs. Winters dropped her off early. Her eyes are focused on Rafe and she watches as he pieces the puzzle together. She observes as he slaps money onto the table, quickly making his exit. “Shit,” the mother whispers. “Can you go to my office, please? Mommy will bring you a snack, baby.” Y/N makes sure Stella is making her way to the office before running after Rafe. Her feet slap against the concrete and she spots him entering his truck. She goes to chase after him, but he drives off in a blink of an eye.  

——

He had a daughter. He had a little girl that he could cherish and watch grow that she kept a secret from him. He doesn’t even know their daughter’s name. His anger fills him to the brim and he needs an outlet to get rid of it. The white powder in the small baggies calls to him, so he rushes to his coffee table. He draws the cocaine into lines and brings his nose down to snort the powder. The drugs start to affect him; his judgement starts to be clouded. 

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to dial a number, “Barry, I need you to find an address for me.”

——

“So how was daycare, Stella?” Y/N questions her daughter, cutting up a cucumber for a snack. Stella runs up to the counter, “It was good, Mommy. I got a rainbow sticker for being a good girl.” The girl pulls at the front of her shirt to show off the sticker on it. “That’s great, Baby. You must have worked hard today to be a good girl. I’m proud of the effort you put in. Now, why don’t you go get ready for your snack? Mommy is almost done getting everything ready,” she suggests, moving on to get the cheese cut. Stella yells an okay and runs to the bathroom. 

The hard knock on the door reverberates around the open floor plan of the small house. This stops Y/N in her tracks and she goes to answer the door. When she sees who it is, she tries to shut the door in his face, but his foot stops her. “How come you didn’t tell me I had a daughter?” he growls, pushing his way into her house. His force causes her to stumble backwards and luckily, she is able to catch herself before she falls on her bum like on the night they first met. She shuts the door, turning toward him, “I was going to tell you. But by the time I found out I was pregnant, I had already learnt the type of person you truly were.” 

“The type of person I truly was? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Can you keep your voice down, please? She is just down the hall.”

“What do you mean?” he snarls, approaching her so they are chest to chest. The dark look in his eyes and the towering figure over her should’ve scared her. She can see the abnormal size of his pupils, so she knows he is high. However, she can’t stop thinking about the man that she met. Not about the stories of his anger issues or how he beats people to a pulp. Not about how he not only does cocaine but sells it at parties too. All she can see is the man who lost his button and ranted about how his father is an asshole. Passing the anger of her hiding Stella, she can see the sadness he feels about missing out on her life so far. Yet, the fact that he shows up at her house, high and yelling while Stella is there causes her to feel her own fury as her maternal side starts to show. 

She stands straight, taking a few steps forward that makes him walk backwards, “What do I mean? I mean that I found out that you not only do drugs, but you sell them. I found out that you beat people up who aren’t in the same financial circle as you. I found out that you have anger issues that you don’t seem to want to change. Rafe, you weren’t the type of father I wanted for my daughter.” Seeing such a sweet person say all those vile but true things about him sends a pang through his heart. 

“You never gave me a chance to change! I would’ve done anything for her if I knew she existed.” 

“Really? Because from where I’m standing right now, you are proving me right. Look what you did when you found out about her. You didn’t try to talk to me like an adult. You went out and got high then barged into my house demanding answers.” 

“You know what? All of you bitches are the same. You think that you are so much better than everyone because you don’t do drugs or get angry. Well let me tell you something, you are just a poor slut who got pregnant on purpose to have a permanent cash cow. You aren’t better than me. You are just better at hiding it than me.”

The volume she was about to talk at was not one she had ever used before, but she wasn’t about to let him talk about her or her daughter like that. “GET OUT! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN UNLESS YOU HAVE A LAWYER WITH YOU!” She storms toward the door and throws the door open. Rafe didn’t think someone with such a nice personality could be so loud. It helps bring him back to reality and he realizes what he just did. His shoulders relax with his anger. He looks at her sadly as he follows her pointed finger out of the door.

Y/N shuts it once he is out the door. She runs her fingers through her hair, giving a tug to the end of her roots. The frustrated sigh she lets out is the only sound in the room until a small voice catches her attention. “Mommy, are you okay?” Y/N turns to her teary-eyed daughter and concern floods through her. She rushes to her, bringing her up to rest against her hip. Her forehead rests against the younger girl’s temple, “I’m okay, Stells. Mommy isn’t hurt, just angry. Are you okay, Baby? I know hearing Mommy yell might have been scary. I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Stella’s arms circle her mother’s shoulders and she gives her mother a kiss on the cheek as comfort. “I’m okay, Mommy. The scary man is gone now. Who was he?” 

Y/N wishes she could pretend like there was no man, but Stella had obviously seen Rafe. There is no denying it. Y/N just has no idea who she wants Rafe to be to her daughter. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii

[inou-ie]

Pairing: Jingliu x Ruan Mei

Warnings: alternate universe - historical, courtesan ruan mei, trans jingliu, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, , creampie, rough sex, breeding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, fluff and smut, eventual smut

Author's notes: just reuploading my works from ao3 for my tumblr children!

men and minors dni

The first time Jingliu stepped into the brothel, her gaze was immediately ensnared by the sight of a captivating woman skillfully playing a string instrument. The courtesan’s porcelain complexion and cascading chestnut locks, adorned with turquoise accents, held Jingliu in rapt attention.

She had entered merely due to an invitation, yet found herself unexpectedly drawn to the allure of one particular courtesan. Despite her initial reluctance, Jingliu found herself drawn to the offer bestowed upon her as a sword master – the privilege to select any courtesan of her choosing.

Intent on departing without indulging in such luxuries, she couldn’t shake the impulse that stirred within her. Before she knew it, she was already having her way to a private chamber, her heart pounding with anticipation, compelled by an inexplicable pull towards the courtesan with chestnut-hued locks, whose allure had captivated her from the moment they first met.

“Good evening… I am Ruan Mei,” the courtesan introduced herself with a graceful bow, cradling her ruan tenderly in her arms.

“You may call me Jingliu,” she replied softly, settling into a seat opposite Ruan Mei with a quiet sigh, her gaze lingering on the enigmatic woman before her.

“Jingliu…” Ruan Mei echoed, her voice imbued with a delicate warmth as she endeavored to recall a distant memory. With a practiced yet strained smile, she gently set her instrument aside before selecting a bottle of wine, pouring a glass for Jingliu with practiced precision.

“A sword master, if I’m not mistaken?” Ruan Mei’s voice carried a soft lilt as she attempted to initiate small talk, following the prescribed protocol. “I’ve heard whispers of your prowess… from some of my patrons,” she murmured softly, nudging the glass towards Jingliu with care.

“You carry quite a reputation,” Ruan Mei added, her gaze fixed upon the tabletop rather than meeting her customer’s eyes, a subtle sign of deference ingrained in her demeanor.

“That is merely a title…” Jingliu responded with a respectful nod, noting Ruan Mei’s avoidance of eye contact as she accepted the glass of wine.

As Jingliu took a sip, she broached the delicate subject of their arrangement. “Sexual…” Her words hung in the air, causing Ruan Mei to visibly tense, her demeanor shifting uneasily. Noticing the discomfort, Jingliu decided not to mention it directly.

She gently tapped her finger on the table to capture Ruan Mei’s attention. “I’ve been informed that such services are not within your offerings, so there’s no need for concern… I’m not here for such matters,” she reassured, finishing the remainder of her wine in a single gulp.

Ruan Mei let out a relieved sigh, her shoulders relaxing as she reached for the wine bottle once more, intending to pour another glass for Jingliu. However, Jingliu halted her with a polite gesture.

“No need, I can pour for myself,” Jingliu stated calmly, taking the bottle from Ruan Mei’s grasp and positioning it within her reach, a silent gesture of self-sufficiency.

As Ruan Mei finally met Jingliu’s piercing crimson gaze, her own eyes widened imperceptibly at the sight of the formidable and striking woman before her. It was a rare occurrence for Ruan Mei to meet a customer’s gaze so directly, but she found herself captivated by the intensity of Jingliu’s eyes and the peculiarity of their interaction which was very different than the usual clients she encountered.

“Then… what can I do for you?” Ruan Mei inquired, her fingers instinctively seeking solace in the familiar embrace of her instrument.

“You were quite skilled at playing that instrument,” Jingliu remarked, her gaze softening as she met Ruan Mei’s eyes with a faint smile. “I’d like to witness your performance once more,” she requested, a glimmer of anticipation dancing in her eyes.

“Is that really all you’ll ask of me?” Ruan Mei’s voice trembled with hesitation, her mind flashing back to the deceptive tactics employed by previous patrons who feigned kindness and gentleness to manipulate her into engaging in sexual activities.

With a subtle nod, Jingliu reclined in her seat, pouring herself another glass of wine with deliberate movements. “Yes, that’s all,” she affirmed calmly, her demeanor exuding a sense of sincerity as she lifted the glass to her lips, taking a measured sip.

Ruan Mei paused for a moment to think before gracefully lifting her ruan into her arms, her movements were fluid and effortless, a testament to years of dedication and practice. With delicate precision, her slender fingers danced across the strings, coaxing forth a melody that seemed to weave through the air like an ethereal tapestry.

Each pluck of the strings resonated with a gentle yet haunting melody, filling the room with a sense of tranquility. Ruan Mei’s brow furrowed in concentration, her eyes closed in serene focus as she lost herself in the music she created.

Jingliu was mesmerized by the sight before her, finding herself entranced by the sheer beauty and gracefulness of Ruan Mei’s performance. The way her fingers moved across the strings with such finesse, the subtle tilt of her head as she leaned into each note, it was as if she embodied the very essence of elegance and poise.

Lost in the hypnotic rhythm of the music, Jingliu felt the tension melt away from her muscles, replaced by a profound sense of calm. It was a rare moment of respite amidst the chaos of her daily life, and for that, she was grateful.

As the final notes of the melody lingered in the air, Jingliu found herself reluctant to break the spell woven by Ruan Mei’s enchanting performance. With a soft sigh of contentment, she set her glass aside, her gaze lingering on the courtesan before her with a newfound sense of admiration and appreciation.

“That was… very beautiful,” Jingliu remarked softly, a faint smile gracing her lips as she savored the lingering echoes of Ruan Mei’s melody. The intensity of her gaze softened as she met Ruan Mei’s eyes, a silent exchange of appreciation passing between them.

“Thank you,” Ruan Mei responded softly, her fingers gently caressing the smooth surface of her ruan as she spoke. “I love playing this…” she murmured, a tender affection evident in her voice.

“I’ve only had the pleasure of hearing you play twice, but…” Jingliu’s voice trailed off, her movements fluid as she poured herself another glass of wine. “But I truly love it. The way you play is incredibly calming,” she admitted before taking another sip, her gaze lingering on Ruan Mei with genuine admiration.

Hearing Jingliu’s words, Ruan Mei couldn’t help but feel a flutter of warmth in her chest. It was the first time someone had complimented her playing in such a heartfelt manner, and she found herself drawn to Jingliu’s sincerity.

“I… love embroidery too,” Ruan Mei suddenly confessed, surprising both herself and Jingliu with her candid admission. There was something about the genuine connection she felt with Jingliu that emboldened her to share her other passions.

With a gentle smile, Jingliu nodded in understanding. “It seems you have interest for things that are… relaxing. Perhaps you could teach me embroidery next time,” she suggested, her expression serene as she settled back into her seat.

“Teach you…?” Ruan Mei’s voice carried a mix of surprise and curiosity as she edged closer to Jingliu, her eyes reflecting the newfound emotions stirring within her. The simple act of sharing her interests and receiving a positive response was a novel experience for Ruan Mei, one that filled her with a sense of warmth and connection she had never felt with anyone else before.

With a gentle nod, Jingliu met Ruan Mei’s gaze, her expression earnest and sincere. “Yes, if that is alright with you,” she affirmed, her chin resting delicately upon her palm.

Ruan Mei’s mind raced, searching for more aspects of herself to share with this unexpected confidante. “I like pastries as well…” she confessed softly, her eyes flickering with anticipation as she awaited Jingliu’s reaction.

Jingliu blinked in surprise at the revelation before letting out a small chuckle. “You do? Would you like me to bring you one when I visit you next time?” she offered, a genuine warmth infusing her words.

The delighted expression that spread across Ruan Mei’s face was a sight to behold. “You would?” she breathed, a hint of admiration shining in her eyes as she regarded Jingliu.

And so, the conversation flowed effortlessly between them, with Ruan Mei sharing more of her interests and ideas with each passing moment. From her love for traditional theater to her fascination with life sciences, she poured out her thoughts and passions to Jingliu, who listened with rapt attention.

For the first time in her life, Ruan Mei felt as though she was engaged in a genuine interaction, free from the constraints of obligation as a courtesan. She no longer felt the need to put on a facade for her customers; instead, she could simply be herself.

Meanwhile, Jingliu savored the sound of Ruan Mei’s voice, finding solace in the simplicity of their conversation. It was a welcome reprieve from the chaos of battle in her daily life as a sword master, a reminder of the beauty and humanity that existed beyond the confines of her sword.

“Would you come back?” Ruan Mei’s voice was soft, her fingers lightly grasping the fabric of Jingliu’s sleeve as she sought her attention before she departed.

“Of course, with desserts next time,” Jingliu replied with a gentle nod, her touch tender as she patted Ruan Mei’s hand reassuringly.

As Jingliu left the brothel, Ruan Mei couldn’t shake the sense of excitement that bubbled within her. It was yet another new sensation, unfamiliar yet exhilarating. The memory of their meaningful conversation lingered in her mind, each word exchanged between them a testament to the genuine connection they had shared.

For the first time in her life, Ruan Mei felt her heart race with anticipation, a flutter of hope stirring within her. Jingliu’s respectful demeanor and genuine interest in her had left a profound impact, filling a void that had long existed within her.

In that fleeting moment of interaction, Ruan Mei had experienced something she had been missing for so long—a true connection, untainted by the expectations of her profession. And for that, she felt a sense of gratitude and longing, eager for the next opportunity to converse with Jingliu once more.

As the days stretched into weeks, Ruan Mei found herself eagerly awaiting Jingliu’s return, her interactions with other customers now feeling mundane and exhausting in comparison. She longed for the comfort of their conversations, the genuine connection she had felt with the sword master.

Finally, after a month had passed, Jingliu reappeared at the brothel, her presence bringing a sense of relief and anticipation to Ruan Mei’s heart.

“Good evening…” Jingliu greeted with a faint smile, though the weariness in her eyes did not go unnoticed by Ruan Mei.

“Jingliu…” Ruan Mei murmured softly, her gaze drifting to the bandages adorning Jingliu’s arms and the patches on her face.

“Are you alright?” she inquired, edging closer to Jingliu in concern, her eyes scanning the extent of her injuries.

Jingliu simply nodded, not wanting to burden Ruan Mei with her troubles. With a gentle motion, she reached inside her clothing, retrieving a carefully wrapped dessert and presenting it to Ruan Mei with a small smile.

“As promised,” Jingliu mumbled, her voice tinged with exhaustion as she settled into her seat with a deep sigh, closing her eyes in weariness.

Ruan Mei followed Jingliu’s lead, settling into her seat across from her before gently cradling her ruan in her arms. “Shall I play for you?” she offered with a warm smile, hoping to offer some form of solace to the weary sword master.

“Mhm, it’s alright… eat your dessert first. Don’t worry, I made sure nothing is mixed in that,” Jingliu reassured, her tired eyes flickering with a hint of amusement as she watched Ruan Mei’s reaction.

With a nod of understanding, Ruan Mei accepted the dessert from Jingliu, carefully unwrapping it to reveal a slice of cake that looked almost too beautiful to eat. Its golden crust shimmered under the soft glow of the brothel’s lights, tempting her with its decadent aroma.

Ruan Mei’s eyes widened in surprise as she took in the sight before her. Unlike the drugged offerings she had received from previous clients, this dessert appeared to be pure and untainted. A sense of trust blossomed within her, a rare feeling she had not experienced in quite some time.

Tilting her head in curiosity, Ruan Mei examined the pastry before taking a small, tentative bite. The flavors exploded on her palate, a symphony of sweetness and indulgence that filled her with a sense of warmth and contentment.

For the first time in a long while, Ruan Mei allowed herself to savor the simple pleasure of a delicious treat, grateful for the genuine kindness and consideration shown to her by Jingliu.

“It’s delicious…” Ruan Mei remarked between bites, her expression alight with pleasure as she savored the flavors of the pastry, while Jingliu watched with a soft smile.

“I’m glad…” Jingliu murmured, her fatigue momentarily forgotten as she took in the sight of Ruan Mei’s enjoyment.

Feeling a surge of affection, Ruan Mei scooted closer to Jingliu, extending her arm to offer a bite of the dessert to the sword master. Initially declining with a gentle shake of her head, Jingliu relented when Ruan Mei silently insisted, bringing the pastry to her lips.

With a small, reluctant smile, Jingliu took a small bite, the sweetness of the dessert mingling with the warmth of Ruan Mei’s gesture. As she savored the flavor, she couldn’t help but be captivated by the delight that danced across Ruan Mei’s face.

Jingliu felt a sense of connection that transcended the boundaries of their respective roles. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes of the genuine bond that had formed between them—a bond that Jingliu cherished more than words could express.

With a soft sigh of contentment, Ruan Mei scooted even closer to Jingliu, their sides touching as they sat beside each other. She continued to munch on the dessert, humming softly in delight as Jingliu watched her with a serene expression.

They didn’t need words to fill the space between them; the simple sound of Ruan Mei’s humming sufficed to create an atmosphere of tranquility and ease. As Jingliu’s gaze lingered on Ruan Mei, her eyes were drawn to the soft curve of her lips, adorned with a delicate layer of frosting from the dessert. Ruan Mei’s makeup was light and understated, accentuating her natural beauty with subtle touches of color that complemented her brown hair and turquoise accents. A hint of chapstick added a soft sheen to her lips, enhancing their natural allure and drawing Jingliu’s gaze.

As soon Ruan Mei finished eating, she leaned towards Jingliu. A soft sigh of satisfaction escaped her lips and Jingliu reciprocated the gesture, their bodies instinctively drawing closer in the quiet intimacy of the moment. “Thank you for the food,” Ruan Mei murmured, her voice carrying a note of genuine gratitude.

“It was my pleasure,” Jingliu responded, her gaze softening as she watched Ruan Mei settle against her, an overwhelming urge to embrace her surging within her. However, she resisted the impulse, mindful of the courtesan’s aversion to physical touch.

“What… can I do for you in return?” Ruan Mei mumbled, her curious gaze meeting Jingliu’s with a sincerity that touched the sword master’s heart. It was a look she had never received from anyone else, a testament to the unique connection they shared.

Jingliu shook her head gently, offering reassurance. “It’s alright, you don’t have to. It was a gift,” she assured, though a flicker of confusion crossed her features at Ruan Mei’s insistence on reciprocity.

“But… both of us have to benefit,” Ruan Mei persisted, her determination evident in her tone. “How about… I show you how to do embroidery?” she suggested, a faint smile gracing her lips as she met Jingliu’s gaze.

The suggestion took Jingliu by surprise, her features softening into a smile at the unexpected offer. “I would like that,” she replied earnestly, her eyes reflecting a genuine warmth as she looked at Ruan Mei.

Ruan Mei retrieved her embroidery kit with a sense of purpose, eager to share her passion with Jingliu. Returning to their previous position, where they leaned against each other in quiet companionship, she began her tutorial with gentle guidance.

“So first, you do this…” Ruan Mei’s voice was soft and measured as she demonstrated the delicate art of embroidery, her slender fingers moving with grace and precision. Each movement was deliberate, each stitch executed with care, as she imparted her knowledge to Jingliu.

As Ruan Mei guided her through the process, Jingliu couldn’t help but be captivated by the sight before her. Ruan Mei’s hands moved with a fluidity that spoke of years of practice and dedication. Her focused expression reflected a deep connection to the craft, a passion that shone through in every stitch.

Despite Ruan Mei’s patient instruction, Jingliu found herself entranced by the beauty of her hands and the concentration etched upon her features. It was a mesmerizing sight, one that drew her gaze irresistibly, even as she attempted to focus on the task at hand.

“Would you like to try?” Ruan Mei’s voice carried a hint of anticipation as she looked up at Jingliu, offering her the embroidery hoop. The sword master nodded, accepting the delicate tool with care, but her attempt at replicating Ruan Mei’s movements resulted in a mess of tangled threads and misplaced stitches.

With an apologetic chuckle, Jingliu sighed in slight embarrassment. “Forgive me… my hands are used to holding a sword,” she mumbled, her tone tinged with self-deprecation, eliciting an amused chuckle from Ruan Mei.

“That’s alright, it was your first time,” Ruan Mei reassured, her gaze drifting to the scars and bandages that adorned Jingliu’s hands and arms.

Almost unconsciously, Ruan Mei’s hand reached out to gently trace the scars, her touch light and tentative. “Do they hurt?” she asked softly, her voice filled with concern.

“They’ve healed, so they don’t hurt,” Jingliu reassured, flipping her hand to show her palms, silently hoping for Ruan Mei to place her hand in hers. To her surprise, the courtesan complied, her delicate hand resting in Jingliu’s palm.

Jingliu’s heart skipped a beat at the contact, her pulse quickening as she slowly closed her hand around Ruan Mei’s, testing the waters to see if the gesture was welcomed. It was a tentative gesture, born out of a desire to offer comfort, and she held her breath, waiting for Ruan Mei’s response.

Ruan Mei gazed up at Jingliu, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before withdrawing almost immediately, causing a twinge of disappointment to flicker across the sword master’s features. She had hoped to hold onto that fleeting connection a little longer, but her disappointment was quickly replaced by a rush of anticipation as Ruan Mei’s hands moved to caress her bandaged arms.

“How about these, do they hurt?” Ruan Mei’s voice was soft and gentle, her touch tender and comforting.

“Not at all, I’m used to this,” Jingliu reassured, her voice steady despite the emotions swirling within her. Her gaze shifted down to watch Ruan Mei’s hands as they explored her arms with gentle care, her touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. As Ruan Mei’s hands traced the contours of her scars with a tenderness that took her breath away, Jingliu felt a rush of gratitude wash over her.

“You have plenty of muscles…” Ruan Mei murmured, her touch tracing the contours of Jingliu’s arms before moving upwards to explore her shoulders, feeling the strength beneath the surface.

“I… hold my sword every day…” Jingliu responded softly, her gaze locked with Ruan Mei’s, a silent acknowledgment of the physical demands of her profession.

Ruan Mei nodded in understanding, her fingers now delicately tracing Jingliu’s neck, her touch light and probing as she felt for the rhythm of her pulse and the flutter of her veins.

“It’s fast…” Ruan Mei tilted her head in confusion, her gaze searching Jingliu’s face for answers. But Jingliu remained silent, her eyes averted as she struggled to admit the truth—that it was Ruan Mei’s presence, her touch, that set her heart racing with a fervor she could scarcely contain.

With a deep sigh, Jingliu gently reached up to brush a stray strand of hair away from Ruan Mei’s face, a tender gesture that the courtesan seemed to welcome as she leaned into Jingliu’s touch. The longing to hold the courtesan grew stronger with each passing moment, Jingliu’s heart aching with the desire to embrace this beautiful woman in her arms.

“Thank you for today…” Jingliu mumbled softly, reluctantly pulling her hand away, her gaze filled with an unspoken yearning.

“You’re going already?” Ruan Mei’s voice was tinged with confusion, her hands lingering on Jingliu’s shoulders as if reluctant to let her go.

“Forgive me… As much as I wanted to stay longer… I have duties to attend to,” Jingliu sighed regretfully, her expression reflecting the weight of her responsibilities as a sword master.

“Would you come back again soon?” Ruan Mei’s voice was soft, almost pleading, as she looked up at Jingliu with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. For her, Jingliu represented more than just another customer; she was the first person to truly see her, to acknowledge her as more than just a courtesan. In Jingliu, she had found a kindred spirit, someone who listened to her interests and treated her with genuine respect and care.

With a small smile, Jingliu nodded in reassurance. “Of course, I’ll make sure to,” she promised, her words carrying a sense of sincerity that warmed Ruan Mei’s heart.

Before Jingliu departed, Ruan Mei reached out, offering her the unfinished embroidery they had worked on together. It was a silent yet poignant reminder of the bond they shared, a testament to the connection they had forged in the quiet moments they had spent together.

Jingliu accepted the embroidery with gratitude, her fingers lingering on the fabric as she took in the intricate stitches and delicate patterns. It was a symbol of their shared experiences, a tangible reminder of the promise they had made to each other—to finish what they had started, together.

With a final glance at Ruan Mei, Jingliu tucked the embroidery safely away, a silent vow to return and complete their project. As she left the brothel behind, her heart felt lighter, buoyed by the hope of future encounters with the woman who had captured her heart in ways she had never imagined possible.

Ruan Mei waited patiently, her gaze fixed expectantly on the entrance to the private chamber each day, hoping against hope that it would be Jingliu who walked through the door. But day after day, the sword master failed to appear, and with each passing moment, Ruan Mei’s demeanor towards her other clientele grew colder and more aloof.

Even as she poured them wine or tea, her expression betrayed her inner disgust towards them. Her interactions with them became increasingly curt and detached, her reluctance to engage in idle chatter evident in her distant demeanor. 

Weeks turned into months, and still, Jingliu remained absent. With each passing day, Ruan Mei’s longing for the sword master intensified, a gnawing ache in the depths of her soul that refused to be appeased. Despite her foul mood, she continued to entertain her other customers, fulfilling her duties with a sense of resignation that bordered on despair.

But deep down, Ruan Mei yearned to escape from it all—to leave behind the confines of her profession and seek solace in the arms of the one person who had made her feel truly safe and respected. Jingliu’s absence weighed heavily on her heart, a constant reminder of the emptiness that pervaded her existence in the absence of the one person who had touched her soul in ways she had never imagined possible.

Ruan Mei hugged her ruan tightly, her sigh echoing the heaviness in her heart as she stared blankly at the table where she awaited her customer for the night.

“Good evening…”

The familiar voice startled Ruan Mei, causing her to lift her head abruptly, her heart racing at the sight of the crimson orbs that met her gaze.

Without hesitation, Ruan Mei rose from her seat, her hands trembling slightly as she approached the sword master, her eyes betraying a mixture of relief and longing as she reached out to grasp Jingliu’s hand with both of hers.

“I thought you wouldn’t come back…” Ruan Mei’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper, her words heavy with unspoken emotion.

“Forgive me… I was away on duty…” Jingliu’s response was gentle, her touch reassuring as she held Ruan Mei’s hand in return.

As Ruan Mei took a closer look at Jingliu, she couldn’t help but notice the fresh injuries that marred the sword master’s appearance—the bandages, the bruises. Concern flickered in her eyes as she met Jingliu’s gaze, her worry evident in the furrow of her brows.

“I’m alright… I’m sorry I came straight here after returning,” Jingliu trailed off, her tone tinged with regret as she noticed Ruan Mei’s concerned expression. “I didn’t have time to prepare myself properly,” she explained with a weary sigh, the weight of her responsibilities weighing heavily upon her shoulders.

Noticing the exhaustion etched upon the sword master’s features, Ruan Mei acted instinctively, settling down on the bed before gently patting her lap in invitation.

“Please, get some rest,” Ruan Mei urged softly, her voice infused with concern as she gestured for Jingliu to lie down.

“I-I’m completely fine…” Jingliu attempted to protest, her voice tinged with stubbornness, but the pleading look in Ruan Mei’s eyes softened her resolve, and she found herself slowly approaching the courtesan.

“Then, just a bit…” Jingliu relented with a defeated sigh, allowing herself to lie down on the bed and rest her head upon Ruan Mei’s lap. The gentle caress of Ruan Mei’s fingers in her hair brought a sense of comfort and solace, easing the tension in Jingliu’s weary frame.

“I have been waiting for you,” Ruan Mei murmured, her voice soft and full of longing as she gazed down at Jingliu, her eyes devoid of the usual facade of indifference she presented to her other customers. There was only admiration and affection shining in her eyes, a reflection of the deep connection she shared with the sword master.

“Mhm, forgive me,” Jingliu responded, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed her eyes, allowing herself to succumb to the soothing sensation of Ruan Mei’s gentle touches. Jingliu felt a sense of peace wash over her, the weight of her burdens momentarily lifted in the presence of the woman who had come to mean so much to her.

As Ruan Mei continued to hum softly, her fingers gently tracing patterns through Jingliu’s hair, the sword master felt herself being lulled into a state of peaceful relaxation. The gentle touch of the courtesan’s fingers against her scalp was incredibly soothing, and soon Jingliu found her eyelids growing heavy with drowsiness.

Though Ruan Mei longed to engage Jingliu in conversation, seeing the exhaustion etched upon her features, she chose instead to focus on providing her with the comfort and relaxation she so clearly needed. With each gentle stroke of her fingers and each soft hum that escaped her lips, Ruan Mei worked to lull Jingliu into a state of tranquility, allowing the weight of her burdens to momentarily slip away.

Before long, Jingliu appeared to have succumbed to the embrace of slumber, her breathing steady and her expression serene. Ruan Mei couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of the normally stoic sword master, her face softened in sleep, a rare glimpse of vulnerability.

“I wish you could stay with me forever…” Ruan Mei whispered softly, her hand tenderly caressing Jingliu’s hair as she traced the contours of her features with gentle fingers.

With a sigh, Ruan Mei carefully arranged Jingliu on the bed, ensuring she was comfortable and at ease. Placing a soft pillow beneath her head, she lingered for a moment longer, her gaze lingering on Jingliu’s peaceful expression.

But as Ruan Mei stood up, a sudden thought crossed her mind—a fleeting impulse that she couldn’t ignore...

How would it feel, she wondered, to be held in Jingliu's strong and protective embrace?

As Ruan Mei kept looking at Jingliu, her heart raced with a mixture of longing and apprehension. Her eyes traced the contours of the sword master’s form, lingering on the bandaged arms, the exposed skin of her neck, and the scars that adorned her body. But it was Jingliu’s lips that captivated her most, their softness and allure stirring something deep within her.

With a trembling breath, Ruan Mei gulped, her pulse quickening at the sight before her. Before she could fully comprehend her actions, her body moved of its own accord, drawing her closer to Jingliu until she lay beside her, her gaze never wavering.

“Jingliu…” Ruan Mei whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, filled with a desperate longing to keep the sword master by her side.

At the sound of her name, Jingliu stirred from her slumber, her eyes fluttering open to meet Ruan Mei’s intense gaze. Startled by the proximity of the courtesan, Jingliu sat up abruptly, her expression a mixture of surprise and confusion.

“I fell asleep… forgive me,” Jingliu murmured with a sigh, but Ruan Mei followed suit, sitting up beside her, her gaze never wavering as she continued to gaze at the sword master with undisguised longing.

Sensing the intensity of Ruan Mei’s gaze, Jingliu couldn’t help but meet her eyes, a flicker of curiosity sparking within her own crimson orbs.

“Is there something on my face?” Jingliu inquired, her hand instinctively reaching up to touch her features, searching for any imperfections.

“Nothing,” Ruan Mei replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she edged closer to Jingliu, their proximity closing the distance between them.

“I have an insane request…” Ruan Mei murmured, her voice trembling with uncertainty as she clasped Jingliu’s hand in hers, their fingers intertwining in a silent plea.

“What is it?” Jingliu responded, her voice gentle yet tinged with curiosity as she regarded Ruan Mei with a soft smile.

Ruan Mei’s breath caught in her throat as she gathered her courage, her heart pounding with anticipation.

“Would you… consider buying me out?” Ruan Mei’s voice wavered as she voiced her request, her gaze searching Jingliu’s for any hint of a response.

“If it’s you… then…” Ruan Mei trailed off, her voice barely a whisper as she leaned closer to Jingliu, the air between them charged with tension and unspoken longing.

Jingliu’s surprise was masked by a practiced facade of composure, her expression unreadable as she processed Ruan Mei’s request. For a moment, there was silence between them, broken only by the sound of Jingliu's voice.

“Buy you out…?” Jingliu repeated, her gaze drifting to the side as she contemplated Ruan Mei’s request.

“Yes, I don’t think I’ll be able to bear waiting for you for months again,” Ruan Mei confessed, her voice tinged with vulnerability as she sought reassurance from the sword master.

Her words hung in the air, heavy with longing and desperation, as she expressed her inability to bear the separation any longer. Her hands gripped Jingliu’s clothing, as if seeking an anchor in the tumult of emotions swirling between them.

Jingliu turned her gaze back to Ruan Mei, her crimson eyes widening slightly in surprise at the gravity of the situation. The idea of purchasing a courtesan out seemed surreal to her, a notion that had never crossed her mind before.

Despite her status as a renowned sword master, the thought of buying someone out of servitude, especially someone as sought-after as Ruan Mei, felt daunting and unfamiliar.

For a moment, Jingliu remained silent, the weight of Ruan Mei’s request settling heavily upon her shoulders as she grappled with the implications of such a decision. She knew that money was not an issue for her, but the notion of owning another person, even with the intention of granting them freedom, gave her pause.

Feeling the weight of the silence, Ruan Mei’s anxiety bubbled up until she could bear it no longer. With a desperate gesture, she seized Jingliu’s arms, enfolding them around herself tightly, causing the sword master’s breath to catch in her throat.

“I don’t want anyone else to approach me… I want you to be the only one who can see me… talk to me and touch me,” Ruan Mei whispered against Jingliu’s chest, her voice soft yet pleading.

“I want to serve you… and only you,” she added, her gaze meeting Jingliu’s with unwavering determination.

As if responding to an unspoken command, Jingliu instinctively drew Ruan Mei closer, holding her in a tight embrace as if shielding her from the world.

“How could I ever refuse a request like this…” Jingliu murmured softly, her arms cradling Ruan Mei’s head and back, offering comfort and reassurance in the warmth of their embrace.

Ruan Mei’s heart raced as she felt herself melting in Jingliu’s arms. It was everything she had yearned for—a tight hold that made her feel safe and cherished.

With a soft sigh, she dared to inch closer, carefully climbing onto Jingliu’s lap, straddling her form and enveloping the sword master in her own embrace. It was as if she sought to merge with Jingliu, to become one with her being.

“Ah… this is…” Jingliu’s voice faltered, her throat tightening as she observed Ruan Mei clinging to her, their bodies intertwined in an intimate embrace that stirred emotions within her.

“Jingliu…” Ruan Mei’s voice was barely a whisper as she nuzzled into the comforting scent of the sword master, her body pressing even closer despite their already intimate proximity.

Jingliu could feel her own heartbeat quicken, but she forced herself to take slow, deep breaths, attempting to regain her composure and steady her nerves. She didn’t want to do anything that might frighten or unsettle Ruan Mei, after all.

“I feel… delighted. Being with you is all I desire,” Ruan Mei whispered, her touch gentle as she ran her fingers along Jingliu’s neck and cheek.

Jingliu couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth at Ruan Mei’s words, her arms instinctively tightening around the courtesan to offer support as she sat on her lap.

“Are you certain?” Jingliu asked, her voice soft yet filled with concern.

Ruan Mei nodded, a faint smile gracing her lips. “I want to belong to you, and only you,” she affirmed.

Jingliu felt her blood rush, unable to hide her own flustered state, especially with Ruan Mei so intimately close.

With a gentle sigh, Jingliu pulled back slightly, her gaze fixed intently on Ruan Mei’s face. As their eyes locked, Jingliu’s expression softened, and she leaned in closer, her focus shifting to Ruan Mei’s inviting lips.

The movement was slow and deliberate, allowing Ruan Mei the opportunity to retreat if she wished, but Ruan Mei remained still, leaning in to meet Jingliu halfway.

Their lips trembled slightly as they drew nearer, the anticipation palpable in the air. Finally, their lips met in a tender kiss, sending a jolt of electricity through both of their bodies. With each brush of their lips, their hearts surged with emotion, the sensation overwhelming yet exhilarating.

“You taste just like my favorite pastry…” Ruan Mei whispered against Jingliu’s lips, her fingers tracing delicate patterns along the sword master’s ear. “I want more…” Her words hung in the air before she leaned in again, pressing her lips against Jingliu’s with a sigh of contentment.

Feeling Ruan Mei’s lips against hers, Jingliu couldn’t resist. She gently cradled Ruan Mei’s face in her hands, drawing her in closer as they shared another kiss.

"So soft..." Jingliu sighed, drawing back slightly from their passionate exchange to behold Ruan Mei's flushed face and gentle features.

She couldn't resist the urge to smile warmly before pressing her lips against Ruan Mei's once more. This time, she deliberately traced the curves of Ruan Mei's mouth with her tongue as she deepened their kiss, coaxing a luscious moan from the courtesan.

To her delight, Ruan Mei did not shy away but responded in kind, swirling her tongue around Jingliu's enticingly as their kiss grew increasingly heated.

The courtesan's slender hands gripped Jingliu's silky hair with undeniable force, as if she wanted to hold her in place forever. Ruan Mei kissed her deeply and fiercely, her lips slacking slightly yet laced with an insatiable desire that made Jingliu's heart race.

In response, Jingliu delicately maneuvered her tongue around Ruan Mei’s sweet mouth, guiding their passionate embrace while eliciting moans of pleasure from the beauty before her.

As the kiss became increasingly desperate and their tongues mingled erotically, saliva glazed their parted lips. Beads of sweat glistened on both their foreheads as they panted heavily, every breath causing a faint whisper of excitement in each other's ears.

"Jingliu, more..." Ruan Mei whimpered amidst gasps for air as she thrust herself closer against Jingliu's bulging form below; an audible groan escaping from deep within the sword master's throat at the feel of pure perfection nestled between them.

As Jingliu began to lose herself in the frenzied passion, she knew she had to break away momentarily to catch her breath.

Yet before she could gather herself, Ruan Mei's lips clung stubbornly to hers, coating their parted mouth with a glossy line of drool as their exhales mingled.

In response, Jingliu felt an uncontrollable surge of arousal course through her body - her erection swelling within its constraining fabric – fueled by this passionate embrace that left her utterly consumed.

"More... more..." Ruan Mei breathed softly into Jingliu's mouth as she craved every sensation this powerful sword master had to offer. She couldn't believe how much her hunger had grown, how deeply she now desired another's warmth and closeness – a stark contrast from her previous indifference towards intimacy.

She found herself craving more of the intimacy she once thought she could live without. It was a sensation she couldn’t deny, a hunger that grew with each moment spent in Jingliu’s arms.

"I can’t hold back any longer..." Jingliu groaned deeply, her hands gripping tightly onto Ruan Mei’s curves as she urged her further down towards her bulging length that begged for release.

Ruan Mei let out a gentle yelp as she felt the unmistakable heat and size of Jingliu's swollen erection pressing against her. Their embrace only intensified, as Jingliu's hips started to grind insistently against hers.

Gasping for air, they broke their passionate kiss, their eyes locked in a fierce mutual lust that was almost palpable. With an unspoken understanding, Jingliu slowly guided Ruan Mei towards the soft covers of the bed while trailing tender caresses up her legs and thighs, every touch causing goosebumps to rise across the courtesan's sensitive skin.

With a soft, pleading look in her eyes, Jingliu gently rested her hand just below Ruan Mei's breasts.

"May I..." she whispered tenderly before placing her other hand firmly on the curves of Ruan Mei’s hips.

"I promise to take care of you," she pledged earnestly as her pulsating erection rubbed sensuously against Ruan Mei's clothed core. Without any hesitation, Ruan Mei wrapped her legs around Jingliu's waist, drawing her closer with an affectionate smile.

"I trust you completely." Her words set fire to Jingliu's passion, causing her to thrust forward eagerly as she reveled in the intoxicating heat and fragrance of her beloved courtesan.

With utmost tenderness, Jingliu delicately pulled and coaxed off each piece of Ruan Mei's clothing until she lay before her in all her glory:her delicate, ivory skin; full breasts that rose and fell with every breath – a vision that filled Jingliu with unbridled desire.

Lower still, she noticed the glistening moisture seeping from between Ruan Mei's plush folds, beckoning her like an alluring siren song of pleasure. The sight was nearly overwhelming for Jingliu; she simply couldn't resist anymore.

As urgency surged through her veins, Jingliu discarded the remaining pieces of her clothing until she was completely bare before Ruan Mei.

Her muscular physique shimmered with perspiration, every hard-earned scar on her body testament to her prowess as a sword master. But Ruan Mei couldn't take her eyes off that magnificent erection – thick, proud and pulsating enticingly as it craved satisfaction.

Ruan Mei drew in a shuddering breath as Jingliu's stiff erection lay tantalizingly close to her folds, causing her cunt to clench and unclench in desire.

"You're so beautiful," Jingliu whispered reverently as she slowly lifted her hands upwards, cupping Ruan Mei's full and round breasts tenderly.

"Mhm," Ruan Mei moaned softly with her eyes fluttering shut, surrendering herself completely to the sensations coursing through her body. Rough and calloused hands left soft caress on her breasts before squeezing them affectionately – an action that sent delightful shivers down her spine.

As Ruan Mei moaned blissfully, Jingliu bestowed an array of tender kisses upon her skin while slowly licking around the sensitive flesh of one erect nipple. Finally, she enveloped it with her mouth, savoring its taste as she drew it deeper into her mouth.

Pleasure coursed through Ruan Mei's body as she ran her fingers through Jingliu's hair – a soft hum escaping her lips. Encouraged by this response, Jingliu playfully pinched and twisted the other nipple with her fingers while maintaining gentle suction on the first – every touch causing Ruan Mei to writhe beneath her in ecstasy.

"Does it feel good?" Jingliu asked softly as she showered affection upon the courtesan's second erect nipple. Ruan Mei let out a soft moan, her hands gently running through Jingliu's hair.

"So good..." she breathed before losing herself in sensations that rippled through her core with each tender touch. Without any further preamble, Jingliu's tongue glided downwards, tracing Ruan Mei's sensitive skin until it reached her lower abdomen where the heady scent of her dripping arousal filled the air.

Jingliu could hardly resist – her thumbs separated Ruan Mei's folds wider and wider, her gaze fixated upon the plump and throbbing bud waiting for her attention.

Ruan Mei's head slowly rose as she watched Jingliu lower her lips towards her delicate folds. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt a teasing flick of the sword master's tongue on her sensitive bud, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through her entire body like wildfire.

Emboldened by this response, Jingliu began to lap at Ruan Mei's swollen folds more insistently, drawing out every drop of essence that seeped from within.

As Ruan Mei started spreading her legs wider, Jingliu deepened her exploration, running long strokes from Ruan Mei's swollen core down to her sensitive opening before flicking back up again with precise flicks that sent waves of sheer bliss spiraling through every inch of her being.

"... good, so good...!" Ruan Mei's moans grew louder with each lick, her hips unconsciously rising to meet Jingliu's attentive mouth as the sword master's skilled lips engulfed her clitoris.

The pleasure was building rapidly within her until it threatened to consume her entirely, causing her body to arch and tears of ecstasy trickling down her cheeks.

Ruan Mei's cries became more desperate, a plea for even more intense sensation that echoed in the air around them. It seemed as though every stroke from Jingliu's tongue brought Ruan Mei closer to shattering point - so close that she could barely breathe, suspended on the edge of release.

And then, almost imperceptibly gently at first before intensifying in pressure and urgency... Jingliu began nipping at the swollen bundle of nerves beneath her lips. With each delicate suckle and teeth graze, wave after wave of pure bliss washed over Ruan Mei until she finally erupted into climaxes like thunderbolts lighting up every nerve ending from head to toe.

"Sweet..." Jingliu breathed as she continued her relentless feast on Ruan Mei's pulsating core. Her fingers gently pulling back the sensitive hood to reveal even more of the swollen clit which she then attacked with voracious hunger - suckling and biting at it lightly as another powerful climax surged through Ruan Mei's body.

She wanted to make this moment last forever, to bask in Ruan Mei's blissful ecstasy until her body could take no more.

"Hold on for a moment! Please... I'm still–" Ruan Mei pushed Jingliu's head away in an effort to postpone another release but her pleading voice only spurred Jingliu into a frenzy; she tightened her grip on the courtesan's thighs, urgently suckling and nipping at her quivering clit with increasing passion.

Her mouth was awash in Ruan Mei's sweet juices - a nectar that had begun to fill her senses like a drug. She fed greedily from the source, desperate to drain every last drop of pleasure from the woman beneath her as another climax approached – even more intense than the first.

Ruan Mei whimpered helplessly; each hungry suction from Jingliu sent shockwaves of bliss radiating outward through every inch of her body until finally, she shattered once again in an explosive release that left her breathless, writhing beneath Jingliu with trembling limbs.

As Ruan Mei's whimpers faded to soft sobs, Jingliu couldn't resist pressing one last tender kiss against her swollen clitoris before gently pulling away. Her body hummed with desire, yet she felt a deep sense of satisfaction - knowing that she had given pleasure to the beautiful courtesan lying beneath her. 

Feeling an overwhelming sense of satisfaction mixed with tenderness, she lowered her body beside the quivering courtesan and wrapped her arms around her tenderly – offering comfort as Ruan Mei struggled to recover from the intense pleasure that had just overwhelmed her. She kissed Ruan Mei on the forehead gently before running her fingers through her hair, relishing in the warmth and softness of it.

"Forgive me... I couldn't help myself." Jingliu whispered as soft kisses brushed against Ruan Mei's temple and hair as she showered affection upon the exhausted woman.

With a contented sigh, Ruan Mei snuggled closer to Jingliu's comforting warmth, looking up at her with a soft smile. She then reached out and gently stroked the sword master's stiff erection.

"Let's continue..." she whispered, her eyes locked on Jingliu's as she fondled her shaft teasingly. Jingliu grunted softly in response, surprised by Ruan Mei's bold touch.

"Are you sure? You can rest for a moment," Jingliu offered kindly. However, Ruan Mei’s grip tightened ever so slightly around her length as she pleaded, "Please." Her gaze holding steady on Jingliu's face, she gave one final tug before rising on her elbow gracefully; offering herself to be claimed once again.

Watching Ruan Mei climb onto her slowly aroused Jingliu immensely, her erection growing heavier at the sight of the courtesan's alluring body.

"I want to feel all of you," Ruan Mei whispered softly as she rested a hand on Jingliu's muscular abs, teasingly stroking her swollen length with the other.

"Take your time..." Jingliu reminded as she encircled Ruan Mei's waist with her strong arms, ensuring her body was steady and well-supported.

Ruan Mei nodded softly, her breath growing warm against Jingliu's chest as she started to descend gradually.The tip of Jingliu's erection rubbed circles against the tender flesh of Ruan Mei's folds, teasing her entrance before slowly slipping in.

The courtesan's muscles squeezed around Jingliu, an instinctive response to the intrusion that had them both panting and wanting more. Slowly but steadily, Ruan Mei sank deeper onto Jingliu, stretching her wide and filling every inch of herself with pleasure.

Despite initial sting from being stretched wide open, all Ruan Mei could think of now was how much deeper she craved to go.

"Let me ease you further." Jingliu murmured, her hands sliding down to caress Ruan Mei's trembling thigh before gently cupping her ass.

She shifted her angle slightly and with a steady thrust forward, she managed to bury half of herself inside Ruan Mei's warmth. It was tight—almost more than she could bear—but their combined moans made it all worth it.

"I'll be slow..." Jingliu assured, gripping Ruan Mei's ass tighter to maintain their connection as she savored the sensation of being buried within the courtesan.

"Does it hurt?" Jingliu asked, looking at Ruan Mei as she took deep breaths to keep herself composed.

"Just a little," Ruan Mei replied, her voice barely audible over her ragged breathing. Her eyes traced Jingliu's face as she noted the fiery blush that spread across her cheeks and the heavy panting that seemed to make each breath rip through her body.

Ruan Mei realized then that Jingliu's pleasure was deeper, more intense than hers – it filled her with warmth and affection for the sword master.

With a steady rhythm, Jingliu started slowly pumping in and out, deeper and deeper, filling Ruan Mei with each thrust until discomfort morphed into pleasure. In response, Ruan Mei embraced Jingliu closer, pressing her lips against her face while gently grazing her nose and cheeks with kisses. 

"So incredibly tight," Jingliu's voice almost soundsd like a whimper, her eyes fluttering shut as Ruan Mei's velvety flesh rippled around her cock.

She had never experienced anything like it before - every squeeze was intense, drawing pleasure up from the base of her erection and flooding her senses until she could hardly think.

"Deeper..." Ruan Mei breathed against Jingliu's skin as her hips surged up and down to meet every thrust. The sensation was overwhelming but she craved more; needed to be filled by everything Jingliu had to offer. 

Responding instantly, Jingliu thrusted deep inside Ruan Mei until their bodies were nearly fused together, the base of her cock smacking against Ruan Mei's sensitive flesh eliciting a soft moan from them both.

Jingliu's breath came in ragged pants, her lids half lowered as she watched Ruan Mei undulate on top of her. Every stroke sent ripples of pleasure through her body, making it harder and harder to resist the mounting pressure building inside her.

"You feel so good..." Ruan Mei moaned softly, lost in the sensations coursing through her as she trailed kisses along Jingliu's chest and neck. The feel of skin against skin mixed with their shared sweat fuelled Jingliu’s hunger for release until finally she couldn’t contain herself any longer – she groaned loudly as she thrust up powerfully, impaling Ruan Mei deeper and deeper while savouring every shiver that rippled through her delicate frame. She started pounding into her fiercely from below – the need to reach their mutual peak overcoming all else.

With a moan of pure ecstasy, Jingliu's muscles locked up as unbearable pleasure coursed through her. She instinctively tried to lift Ruan Mei off her body, intent on pulling out and spilling her seed. But Ruan Mei leaned down to capture Jingliu's lips in a fierce kiss before tightening around the thick length filling her core.

"No... I'm..." Jingliu panted desperately against her mouth, feeling the climax threatening to overwhelm her. And yet Ruan Mei clung tighter still around her, unwilling to let go even for an instant.

The courtesan pressed herself more intimately against Jingliu, her nails digging into the sword master's hips as she swayed sensually above her.

Overwhelmed by the sensation of being enclosed so tightly by warm velvet walls that pulsed rhythmically against her shaft, Jingliu's body convulsed involuntarily; hot spurts of cum erupted from inside the courtesan's quivering loins, flooding her depths and coating their joined bodies in sticky warmth.

The intense surge of Jingliu's seed sent a shock wave of pleasure through Ruan Mei's core. It was so much that she found herself reaching her own peak, her entire body trembling as sweet release washed over her. With a soft moan, she squirted against Jingliu's hips, completely overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her veins.

Her legs shook so hard they felt like they might buckle, and all she could think about was clinging to this moment – her walls holding tight to the sword master inside of her.

"Please... don’t move..." Ruan Mei begged in a voice thick with lust and satisfaction as she buried herself more fully into Jingliu's embrace, their mingled essence making them one tangled mass of heaving bodies and pulsating desire.

Drool trickled from the corner of Jingliu's lips as she succumbed to a sensation unlike any other – it felt like Ruan Mei's womb was trying desperately to consume her entire essence.

Breathless moans escaped her parted lips as her fingers clutched at Ruan Mei's hips, trying to have some sense of control.

Meanwhile, Ruan Mei’s toes curled reflexively, every throb of Jingliu's cock sending bolts of pleasure inside her. When she finally regained a semblance of strength, Ruan Mei gently tugged on Jingliu's wrists before slowly sitting up, basking in the sight and feel of every glorious inch of softening flesh that filled her utterly.

With deliberate sensuality, she started grinding against Jingliu – teasing herself with just enough friction to heighten their mutual desire while leaving them both craving more.

"Not... done yet?" Jingliu croaked, a husky growl vibrating in her chest as she watched Ruan Mei’s enticing performance.

"Just one more time, please..." Ruan Mei breathed softly, urging Jingliu's hands up to play with her full breasts while their hips continued to roll sensually together.

Within moments, Jingliu felt an intense surge of lust coursing through her veins – the grip of Ruan Mei's pussy was like a vortex sucking her back into desire's embrace. It was too much to resist and it wasn't long before she was fully erect once again.

"I crave you even deeper inside me... don't hold back, be rough if you wish to." Ruan Mei whispered desperately, her body yearning for Jingliu so bad – craving for their connection to go beyond mere physical pleasure and extend into something far more profound.

With a solemn nod, Jingliu whispered back, "I understand," as she carefully guided Ruan Mei to lie down. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Ruan Mei's pussy – glistening wet and swollen from their previous union, bearing the mark of their intense pleasure.

The image sent a fierce hunger coursing through her veins – she could hardly wait to claim more territory within those sweet folds.

Ruan Mei moaned softly as Jingliu gently spread her legs apart, revealing the treasure trove that begged for attention. Their shared cum trickled out between her folds in slow drips, painting an enticing trail for Jingliu's hungry gaze to follow.

"Please..." Ruan Mei pleaded plaintively when it seemed like Jingliu might linger too long; clutching firmly at Jingliu’s rigid cock in an effort to steer it towards where she craved contact the most.

A lustful groan rumbled from Jingliu's chest as she pressed forward, her erect cock slipping smoothly back into Ruan Mei's welcoming depths.

They moaned together in bliss as they were once more deeply united – it was like coming home. Savoring this intense connection, Jingliu expertly folded Ruan Mei in half; lifting the courtesan’s legs to rest on her powerful shoulders while pinning her sweetly curved body to the mattress with her own muscular frame.

The new position had Ruan Mei gasping for breath – every thrust now drove them both higher and deeper into ecstasy while forcing her legs apart wider than ever before.

With a firm grip, Jingliu pinned Ruan Mei's wrists to the mattress – immobilizing her completely as she surged forward. She started with slow and deep strokes before gradually thrusting hard and fast until she was pounding Ruan Mei into the bed.

Her frenzied thrusts grew faster and more powerful with each passing second – their bodies slamming together with an exhilarating force that left Ruan Mei moaning loudly.

Tears of ecstasy streaked down her flushed cheeks, the pleasurable agony consuming her as Jingliu worked herself deeper into Ruan Mei's trembling core.

As the desire for release intensified within Jingliu, she pressed her body closer to Ruan Mei, driving herself in faster and harder than ever before; aiming to hit that spongy spot deep within her beloved courtesan's pussy time after time.

Every penetration elicited a sharp cry from Ruan Mei – part pain and all pleasure. Her entire being quivered under Jingliu's relentless pursuit of bliss as every stroke sent waves of euphoria spiraling through every inch of her being.

Ruan Mei's voice was hoarse with need as she begged, "Like that... just like that, please," her legs wrapped possessively around Jingliu's waist, urging her deeper. The sensation of being stretched wide by the sword master's thick cock was too much for her to bear – her cunt clamped down on Jingliu's invading flesh in a desperate attempt to give her immense pleasure. 

In response to Ruan Mei's pleading whispers, Jingliu devoured her lips in a fiery kiss – their tongues danced wildly within each other's mouth as pleasure surged through them both. When Ruan Mei moaned into Jingliu's mouth, body convulsing in waves of blissful pleasure, the sword master knew she was reaching the pinnacle of her desire. Yet, she refused to back down – continuing to pound relentlessly as she battered her cervix with relentless thrusts.

Ruan Mei loved the stinging pain Jingliu was giving her womb and how wide her walls had stretched went to accommodate her thick length... she wanted to be claimed completely, to be owned by the strong woman on top of her.

Her quivering walls wrapped themselves around Jingliu with an almost painful grip, sending a jolt of pleasure through the sword master's being that she could barely suppress a shudder.

Far from easing up, Jingliu redoubled her efforts; riding out the intensity of Ruan Mei's climax while her legs pushed harder against her – urging her on in a primal mating dance.

Incoherent moans cascaded from Ruan Mei's lips as she clung to Jingliu like a drowning woman seeking salvation. Jingliu knew she shouldn't push the courtesan any further but those walls squeezing her cock made her lose control entirely; pounding harder and faster until  Ruan Mei's climax hit her like a tidal wave, squirting heavily all over Jingliu's lower abdomen and groin as she threw back her head, screaming in ecstasy.

The sight pushed Jingliu closer to her own climax – every pound of her cock elicited grunts and groans as she hammered herself deeper into Ruan Mei in desperate pursuit of relief. Their hips bucked together fiercely as the sword master felt herself reaching the brink.

"Ruan...Mei," Jingliu whispered hoarsely as her cock started to swell even further within its warm and tight embrace, spilling yet another generous load inside Ruan Mei's filled depths until she overloaded.

The volume was so abundant that even plugged by the Jingliu's cock, droplets seeped from Ruan Mei’s overflowing hole. Jingliu's arms wrapped fiercely around the courtesan, pulling her into a clinging embrace as they trembled together – drowning in aftershocks of pleasure that left them breathless and spent.

A long, satisfied sigh escaped Ruan Mei as Jingliu gently rocked them both back and forth, her softening cock caressing the courtesan's sore cervix and walls.

She bestowed a shower of tender kisses on Ruan Mei's neck and face before finally meeting her gaze with deep, soulful eyes. "Are you alright?" she murmured softly in her raspy voice.

Without breaking eye contact, Ruan Mei nodded slowly before replying in an equally soft tone. "More than alright..." She breathed out; hugging Jingliu tight around her waist while giving her back soothing scratches – giving each other some form of comfort.

Sharing one last sweet kiss on the lips, Jingliu slowly eased her length out from the courtesan's swollen walls with a heavy groan. Every inch caused the muscles to grip her tighter as if begging for more – but she persevered, breaking free when it was finally over.

Almost immediately, strings of thick cum started flowing from Ruan Mei's sated hole, dripping down onto the bed sheets beneath them. "Mhm... thank you." Ruan Mei hummed contentedly as she sank back into the mattress beneath her, placing a gentle hand against her distended womb which bulged invitingly with Jingliu’s seed.

Jingliu's heart swelled with emotion as she beheld the sight before her. Despite Ruan Mei being adorned with sweat and tears, her beauty remained undiminished.

And the knowledge that the courtesan's womb now cradling a part of her own being stirred deep within Jingliu, evoking a warmth that threatened to spill over into tears. Unable to resist the impulse, she tenderly laid herself beside Ruan Mei, enfolding her in a protective embrace that spoke volumes of unspoken devotion and affection.

"I will buy you out as soon as you're well rested... so please be assured," Jingliu whispered, pressing a tender kiss to Ruan Mei's temple as the courtesan nestled closer, seeking solace in her warmth.

Despite the stickiness of their bodies and the lingering scent of their shared intimacy filling the room, Jingliu found herself enveloped in an overwhelming sense of contentment. It was as though this moment, this embrace, was the culmination of all her efforts and sacrifices.

Ruan Mei could only offer a faint nod in response, her exhaustion weighing heavily upon her as she returned Jingliu's affection with a soft kiss against her chest. With each passing moment, her eyelids grew heavier, surrendering to the comforting embrace of sleep that Jingliu provided.

Weeks passed since Jingliu successfully secured Ruan Mei’s freedom by buying her out. The sum was considerable, but Jingliu deemed it worthwhile; after all, she had little else to spend her wealth on. The two spent their days together in Jingliu’s home, which soon became a shared haven for them both.

Jingliu would leave the house each day and return at night or in the afternoon. Meanwhile, Ruan Mei patiently awaited her return, either embroidering or taking in the surroundings of Jingliu’s home. She cherished the peace and quiet, appreciating the lack of pressure to engage in activities she disliked. Jingliu respected her space and allowed her to enjoy her time at her own pace.

“Welcome home,” Ruan Mei greeted Jingliu as she entered through the door. Jingliu’s eyes widened slightly before softening at the sight of Ruan Mei holding an almost finished embroidery piece.

“I’m home,” Jingliu mumbled, glancing away as she still wasn’t accustomed to having someone greet her when she arrived home, just as she wasn’t used to Ruan Mei wishing her a good day when she left.

Despite the unfamiliarity, she slowly began to welcome the change. Now that Ruan Mei was with her, Jingliu felt a stronger desire to return home safe and sound. While Jingliu had never sought death, she had been indifferent to it.

In the past, she would return home battered and bandaged, yet no one would care or tend to her wounds. But now, she wanted to avoid injury to spare Ruan Mei worry; she wanted to return home as soon as possible. Jingliu started wanting to live... to stay and take care of Ruan Mei.

On the other hand, Ruan Mei eagerly anticipated Jingliu’s safe return each day. The pastries and new embroidery tools that Jingliu brought home were just added bonuses—Ruan Mei would have been content with just Jingliu’s presence.

She longed to continue being by Jingliu’s side, to serve her and her alone. Ruan Mei cherished the sense of belonging she felt with the sword master, even though Jingliu insisted that Ruan Mei didn’t owe her anything. Still, Ruan Mei couldn’t help but feel the urge to do something for Jingliu.

“You look tired…” Ruan Mei commented as she approached Jingliu, immediately scanning the sword master’s body for any signs of injury.

“I’m completely fine, please don’t worry,” Jingliu reassured her.

“I understand.” With a soft sigh, Ruan Mei nodded before gently taking Jingliu’s hand and leading her to their shared room.

Jingliu’s eyes widened at the sight of a prepared dinner and a bottle of wine arranged near the window.

“You… didn’t have to,” Jingliu murmured, though her gaze lingered on the food and the night sky outside the window.

“I wanted to. This is what I want,” Ruan Mei said softly, placing a hand on Jingliu’s back to guide her to sit down.

As they settled in, Jingliu looked at Ruan Mei with a mix of gratitude and affection, which warmed Ruan Mei’s heart. For her, Jingliu didn’t need to say anything; her eyes conveyed everything.

Jingliu eagerly savored each bite of the food, relishing the thought of Ruan Mei preparing it for her, making it taste even better.

Ruan Mei also enjoyed her meal, stealing glances at Jingliu and smiling faintly each time.

After they finished, Jingliu leaned back with a contented sigh and looked at Ruan Mei.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, reaching to gently tuck a strand of Ruan Mei’s hair behind her ear.

“It was my pleasure. You eat so well, it feels nice to cook for you,” Ruan Mei replied, leaning into Jingliu’s hand now resting on her cheek.

They gazed at each other for a while, their eyes brimming with affection, before Jingliu broke the silence, pulling her hand back.

“Have you decided?” Jingliu began, her gaze shifting to the night sky. “About what you would like to do…” she continued.

Ruan Mei looked up at the night sky as well, sighing deeply. “I have… it’s been on my mind since I was still in the brothel,” Ruan Mei responded. “Living on my own…” she trailed off, turning to look at Jingliu with a blank and unreadable expression.

Hearing Ruan Mei’s words, Jingliu gripped her own hand tightly. She knew she bought out Ruan Mei to give her freedom, a chance to live a life of her own choosing, even if it meant being apart from her.

Jingliu had to show she was happy for Ruan Mei, regardless of her decision. With a deep breath, she tried her best to offer Ruan Mei a reassuring smile.

“I understa–” Jingliu’s words were interrupted when Ruan Mei moved closer, settling comfortably in her lap and embracing her tightly.

“…choosing it never crossed my mind,” Ruan Mei continued, her voice soft as she held Jingliu close. “Whenever I think about the future, you’re always there… right by my side,” she added, her hands gliding up and down Jingliu’s back, providing soothing comfort.

“Will you let me stay with you? Is that alright?” Ruan Mei asked, her voice muffled as she buried her face into the crook of Jingliu’s neck, breathing in deeply Jingliu’s scent.

“Are you certain?” Jingliu asked, her heart swelling with happiness as she embraced Ruan Mei in return.

She held her tight, as if holding her for dear life. “I would love that… please stay with me,” Jingliu mumbled, her voice filled with sincerity, and Ruan Mei nodded, moving closer to Jingliu and pressing their bodies together, finding solace in each other’s embrace.

After a moment of silence, Ruan Mei pulled back slightly before leaning close to Jingliu’s face, her gaze lingering on her lips as her fingers gently caressed Jingliu’s cheek.

“It’s been… so long,” Ruan Mei murmured, leaning closer to give Jingliu’s lips a soft peck. “You haven’t touched me since then,” she added, wrapping her arms around Jingliu’s head and pulling her towards her breasts.

Jingliu’s breath hitched, her heart beating fast. It’s true that she had been avoiding touching Ruan Mei, not wanting her to feel like she was bought for Jingliu’s pleasure alone. She wanted Ruan Mei to feel free to make her own choices, not confined by any obligations.

“You’re right…” Jingliu sighed, only for Ruan Mei to cup her cheeks gently in her hands.

“I miss your touch,” Ruan Mei said, her voice filled with longing as she looked straight into Jingliu’s eyes. “I miss the feeling of your body against mine… inside mine,” she added, her eyes conveying her desires vividly.

Ruan Mei’s words were like a soothing balm to Jingliu’s soul, granting her the permission she needed to embrace her desires for Ruan Mei. With a sense of relief washing over her, Jingliu’s hands moved to hold Ruan Mei’s hips tightly as she leaned in closer, their lips meeting in a soft and tender kiss.

A soft sound of happiness escaped Ruan Mei’s lips as she felt Jingliu’s kiss, her longing for the sword master evident in her every touch.

“It feels good…” Ruan Mei murmured between kisses, her words encouraging Jingliu to explore further, to reassure her that her advances were welcomed.

With a sudden movement, Jingliu lifted Ruan Mei in her arms, carrying her towards the bed with care and gentleness, laying her down gently.

“I’ll be gentle,” Jingliu reassured softly as she climbed onto the bed, positioning herself above Ruan Mei.

Ruan Mei chuckled softly, nodding in agreement before pulling Jingliu closer. “I won’t mind if you’re a little rough,” she whispered, her hands tracing Jingliu’s abs through her clothes.

The bed creaked rhythmically beneath them, a symphony of their shared ecstasy filling the room. Ruan Mei’s voice mingled with Jingliu’s groans of pleasure, the sound of their passion echoing in the intimate space.

Despite Ruan Mei’s limbs wrapping tightly around her and restricting her movements slightly, Jingliu felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of security, cradled in the embrace of the one she cherished the most.

“I love this…” Ruan Mei moaned, her words filled with passion as tears of pleasure streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the fervent kisses exchanged between them.

They lost themselves in each other, the moonlight casting a soft glow upon their entwined bodies, heightening the intimacy of the moment. With each movement, they found solace and fulfillment in the other, their connection deepening with every touch.

Every kiss, every caress, brought Ruan Mei closer to Jingliu, fulfilling a craving that had long lingered within her. She wanted to stay in Jingliu's embrace, loving how her deepest part is being reached and touch by the sword master, she loved the stretch, the feeling of her insides being molded for Jingliu alone.  

For Ruan Mei, being with Jingliu in this way was pure bliss. She craved the intimacy, the closeness, and the sensation of being fully embraced by the one she admired. In Jingliu’s arms, she found happiness and satisfaction, a feeling she never wanted to end.

“You’re so beautiful…” Jingliu’s words escaped breathlessly, her eyes filled with admiration as she gazed at Ruan Mei, who lay beneath her, panting heavily, her hair tousled and her body glistening with sweat.

“You make me want to live…” Jingliu continued, her voice barely above a whisper, as she reached out to gently grab Ruan Mei’s hand, pressing soft kisses to her palm and wrist.

A smile graced Ruan Mei’s lips, despite the exhaustion evident in her features, as she reciprocated Jingliu’s affection, her fingers tenderly caressing Jingliu’s cheek and hair.

With a satisfied sigh, Jingliu shifted to lie beside Ruan Mei, pulling the blanket over their entwined bodies as she wrapped her arms around her, holding her close.

“…thank you,” Ruan Mei murmured, her voice barely audible as she nuzzled closer to Jingliu, her eyes fluttering closed as she succumbed to the embrace of sleep.

"Thank you for staying with me..." Jingliu whispered, kissing Ruan Mei's head before closing her eyes as she continued to stroke Ruan Mei’s hair, the rhythmic motion lulling them both into a state of tranquility as they basked in the gentle glow of the moonlight filtering through the window.

[genderkoolaid]

We don't have good statistics or estimates for the population size of transmasculine sex workers. Part of that is a lack of data on sex workers in general, but part of it is that trans men are often not visibly trans when they participate in sex work. A lot of the trans men and transmasculine people who sell sex do so under a female persona. The escorting profile of a trans man might be indistinguishable from the profile of a cis woman – intentionally on his part – to attract as many clients as possible. This means that in practice, this segment of the transmasculine population are recorded as cis women. If we were to assume the population of trans men selling sex was accurately reflected by the profiles visible on escorting sites, we would likely come to the conclusion that trans men are a tiny group within sex work. The reality is that even openly trans men are much more likely to engage in more informal kinds of sex work, such as on apps like Grindr or with people they meet and in social spaces, just like cis gay men who sell sex. The transmasculine people who claim to be cis women whilst working do share needs with cis women who sell sex, but such resources do not serve all the needs of those hidden trans people. Trans men who are not socially or medically transitioning are driven to sell sex by the same forces which push women to sell sex, with the added pressure of saving money towards transition care and the certainty that they will not be able to sell sex under a female persona forever. Their clientele are also much more likely to shift towards gay and bi men when they do come out, which will change the experiences they have at work and may change their health concerns. [...] [...] So on what basis do I assume the real numbers are so much higher than the few ads we can find online? The impetus for my initial wondering was prompted by the fact I sold sex for many years before I even came out to myself as trans. And I continued to work under a cis female persona until I had been on testosterone for several months. I’m not arrogant enough to think I’m an exceptional case, so I kept an eye out for others like me.  As I began to speak about my experiences in sex worker group chats, on social media, and in meetings with advocacy organisations, I began to hear from many others in the same situation. Every time I speak up, I hear from more trans men and non-binary people who are hidden. No advocacy group is going to find these people unless they identify themselves this way, and transmasculine people are unlikely to do that when an organisation is explicitly geared towards women. I’ve heard from more trans men working under female personas than the total number of openly out trans men advertising across all of the escorting sites I use. I’ve never explicitly asked anyone if they have this experience – they’ve all come to me. And with every story I hear there’s a common thread: they want to medically transition, but fear losing their entire income when they do. Top surgery is a definitive end to being able to work as a cis woman for most, but even testosterone alone can be prohibitive given enough time. By three months on testosterone, clients were beginning to suggest I was a trans woman who’d had genital surgery, and were much more violent with me. This kind of violence rooted in transmisogyny won’t be everyone’s experience, but it happens.

Also, for those interested, check out Jack Parker's Transmasculine Guide to Sex Work

[godbirdart]

Hey there. Ive been admiring your work a long time and I was hoping I could get some advice from a more experienced artist.

How do you go about deciding which commission submissions will proceed forward? If you decide to decline a request how do you go about it? I recently started accepting commissions and get nervous when certain requests are too vague, too difficult or the requester isn't fully answering my questions and I dont know how to go about justifying a decline. Is it okay to decline a commission submission?

aAA thank you for enjoying my work!!

i could talk for Days about commissions and how I handle my own work, but I'm going to try to keep this short and simple for ease of reading:

i use a Google Form in combination with a number generator for my commission openings

reasons why i use a Google Form and number generator: - to avoid favoritism / client bias - to push my comfort zone with a variety of projects - to ensure i'm not taking on more work that i can handle

The Google form will automatically assign a number to each form, making it easy for me to pull up a website and ask it to generate a number between [insert number] and [insert number]. That said, I will still manually go through each form. Occasionally I'll pick up a project if I notice someone's reapplied a couple times who wasn't selected during previous openings, or if a project especially appeals to me, or isn't something i'd usually draw!

declining a commission / project:

yes, it is always okay to decline a project! you are not obligated to accept every submission that comes into your inbox / form / etc. there are many valid reasons to decline a project, from a conflict with your Terms of Service, to making sure you don't take on more work than you can reasonably handle.

if the project doesn't inspire you or spark that creative passion, it may result in frustration, exhaustion, and you might wind up handing the client a subpar art piece that you're not at all proud of. it's much more honorable to be upfront about it than to subject yourself to such grief as you waste your time and energy and your client's time and money.

ways to decline: it's always important to be polite. depending on your reasoning, you could say "Thank you for considering me for this project, but, ...." - "... This is not a project I'd be comfortable taking on." "... This project conflicts with my Terms of Service and I cannot accept it." "... I cannot accept it at this time." "... but I would not be able to fulfill your request to the detail / complexity you are expecting for this piece."

there's no shame in saying "i would not be a good fit for this project". i've had clients ask me for hyper-realistic work, which is quite far from my art style. while i could do it, i'd rather not put both myself and the client through months of frustration and waiting for a project i am not completely confident in executing.

if a client is being too vague, not answering questions:

it happens! not every client will communicate thoroughly. some clients will over-communicate, and for others there may be a language barrier so their difficultness may be entirely unintended.

you can't do the job if you don't know what you're supposed to be doing. never be afraid to ask your client for clarification on their request. phases you can use would be: - "I do not have enough information to begin work on this, could you clarify these details: [insert questions about details you need elaboration about]" - "I cannot proceed without knowing more about [insert thing], can you tell me more about [thing you need clarification on]". if your client being deliberately obtuse and refusing to supply the necessary information, you can be more firm with them such as: - "I will not proceed any further with this project if I do not receive [insert details]."

on clients being too difficult:

"difficult" is a bit subjective here. what may be considered difficult for one artist may be a walk in the park for another. this said, i'm going to use some very generic common examples here.

too many irrelevant notes, or randomly forwarding details / requests instead of condensing their ideas into one message:

"Thank you for these additional notes, however: ..." - "... please only supply notes that are directly related to the project at hand." [such as notes on the expression, environment, pose, etc - things that you need to know for the artwork you are working on] - "... please condense them into one message instead of sending multiple messages. I want to stay organized / do not want to lose track of your notes."

frequent requests for updates, or changes to the WIP / final art:

note: you should always be communicative and receptive to a client's request for updates, but here i am referring specifically to excessive requests such as numerous requests sent multiple times a day. additionally, what is considered "excessive" will vary depending on an artist's average turnaround time. "Thank you for reaching out, ..." - "... but I do not yet have an update for you at this time. I will reach out when I have an update ready for you, thank you for your patience." - "... but these requests are too frequent. Please allow more time to pass between requests for updates." You could also ask your client if they have concerns about the turnaround time, if they need the work by a specific date for a birthday / event, etc. It is important to consider that some clients may have been scammed by an artist in the past and their insistence on updates could be a result from that. if a client keeps requesting edits on the concept / sketch or final piece, you're within your right to say enough is enough. this will also vary depending on the artist's individual work process. if the changes are getting excessive, you could say: - "As we've undergone numerous edits to this, I will permit one final request for editing after which I will -" [move on to the next stage, cease work on this project, issue a partial refund, start asking fees for edits, etc; insert next step of your preference]

ignoring work hours / terms of service / communication channels

as an artist, you should set a firm boundary of what is a working day and what is not. you are not in a profession that is "on-call" 24/7. you can save some headache by having your schedule posted on your website / social media or wherever your queue is publicly posted. anywhere that is readily accessible for a client to easy find. - something you could say is: "My work days are [insert days], I answer work-related messages, work on art, and send out updates [if applicable] on those days. Thank you for your patience." if you prefer to have your work messages confined to one social media account or email, it's okay to enforce that! but be sure to have it posted in easily noticeable spots like pinned posts. - something to say here would be: "If you need to reach me, please do so via [insert platform / email etc]. I will not respond to [comments / DMs on other social media, etc]." terms of service, same as above, should be in an easy-to-find location and should be easy to read. if a client's prompt or action conflicts with your ToS, you could address it with: "As mentioned in my Terms of Service, [address thing that conflicts with your T&C."

language barriers

sometimes you may have a client with a language barrier. we live in a vast world, after all! be patient with them, and depending on their fluency, do your best to simplify your questions for them. if you know your client is using an online translator, try and avoid using jargon. we've come a long way with online translators, but they're not going to spit out the right translation if you ask "are they supposed to be super shredded and beefy" and the translator tells your client "should they be shredded meat".

dropping a client

this is an absolute most extreme last resort, but i bring this up since we're on the topic of difficult clients and this particular stage isn't spoken about often. no artist wants to up and drop a client, but sometimes it's better for all parties involved instead of dragging out a bad experience. dropping a client could result from a variety of factors, including: the artist is retiring from art, something has come up in the artist's life and they are unable to continue, a client has become abusive, or an agreement cannot be made on a project or the project has caused a conflict of interest between the artist and the client. if you must drop a client, you could say: - "I apologize, but for [insert reason] I cannot continue with this project. I will be [refunding / partially refunding] this project." If it's for medical reasons, you can say "due to a medical complication, I am unable to continue" - and leave it at that. Your client does not need elaboration on your private medical information. The same goes for private family matter or other personal issue. artists shouldn't let guilt eat at them if they are physically incapable of completing a project due to personal reasons. things happen, life happens. the vast majority of your clients will be understanding and appreciate that you reached out to them to address the situation instead of leaving them in limbo. If you have to drop a client because they're being genuinely abusive and hostile and not respecting you, your time, or your work, you can say the same thing as above. There's zero need to retaliate or be hostile back. The situation will likely make you feel awful, sure, but firmly staying professional is the best thing you can do. When issuing a refund, always specify when the client should expect their refund to arrive. "A refund has been issued and will be processed through [insert payment method] shortly." or "A refund will be issued on [insert date]."

This wound up long anyway despite my effort to shorten it, but ah well.

If you'd like more elaboration on something, don't hesitate to ask! Some sections did get pruned down in my futile effort to keep it short, so things might've ended up a bit vague or convoluted [my apologies].

[reticent-writer]

idea: uzui wife! reader, during the entertainment arc, is busy being disguised as a courtesan @ daki's home. she's mindin' her own business and suddenly, she gets called in for a customer. She gets a bad feeling about them, (It koku or Muzan (-whichever you wanna do more-) in disguise) but since she doesn't wanna blow her cover, she obliges. this demon is impressed by their skills (Koto, flute, singing & dancing etc) and kidnaps reader

So so so sorry for the late request

I choose muzan

demon slayer masterlist

���✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

You sat in your room in the red light district. You had been here for a long time, longer than your wives, and with that extra time, you made a name for yourself as an Oiran.

Two gentle knocks broke you from concentration as you applied makeup.

"Lady Y/n you have a man requested you. Only you."

"Thank you for informing me." You replied as you put on your traditional multi-layered kimono. You tied your hair and put on kanzashi. Looking into the mirror at you table you sighed.

"I hope this mission ends soon." You muttered as you went to see your client.

------

He was seated in the corner of the room. In a suit with a white hat covering his eyes. His demeanor was cold and calculating, You could tell he wasn't ordinary and as you got closer the notion was he wasn't human was more apparent.

"The gentleman asked for my presence. Were none of my girls to the gentleman's liking." You smiled gently but were secretly wanting to get away from this demon.

"Your girls are beautiful but I came to see you. Your beauty entices me."

"The Gentleman has caught my eye, pray tell what do you wish from me."

"Everything." He raises his head to meet your eyes. Your heart skipped a beat to be met with striking red eyes. For a moment you saw him for the demon that he was.

You stood up and lead the man to your room.

"May I know the gentleman name?"

There was a moment before he responded.

"Kibutsuji."

'Muzan kibutsuji?'

You were lucky you were facing away from him or else he would've seen your panicked face. You quickly composed yourself.

"Well Mr. Kibutsuji please make yourself comfortable." You had made it to your room.

------

You had indeed done everything for him.

Teashows

Games

Recited poetry

played many instruments

danced

Kibutsuji only smiled and asked for more.

"Your skills are undoubtedly impressive, lady Y/n. You have done everything I asked without breaking a sweat and even had a smile on your face. You are truly amazing."

You chuckled and sat in front of him, "Compliments are not necessary, Mr. Kibutsuji. I am here to serve your needs."

"It's a shame that you're not a real Oiran." He said while grabbing your face rather harshly. Forcing you to look into his eyes.

"What do you mean sir-"

"I've been listening to your heartbeat this whole time. From the moment I said my name your heartbeats have been irregular. You're scared of me, you know me."

"Kibutsuji..." You hissed his name and tried to get out of his grasp.

"You lucky I like you." He said before he knocked you out.

He brought you back to the Infinity Castle.

------

Later that week the news of the missing Oiran, Y/n was all over the red-light district. Once the news reached Tengen (along with the lack of messages from Suma, Hina, and Makio) He decided it was time to step in.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿