Novel & Cerita Azula X Male Reader Lemon

Ginny White, tall and curvy, was a graduate from a famous university. She wore a long white dress. I'd fallen for her since I saw her for the first time, but she didn't pay any attention to me. I never expected that just half a day later, Ginny would be on her knees begging me to do such a thing to her, just to get a bite to eat.

When Selena Sloane takes her assistant, Preston Jones, to the hospital in order to get his lower back checked out, her 18-year-old self is in the middle of making out with me while having me pinned against the wall. "Darling, how is it that you smell so good and your kisses are still this amazing despite being 30 years old? Oh, I love you so much, darling! "By the way, where did my 30-year-old self go? Why isn't she here to pick you up after work?" I push Young Selena off me sadly. That's when I happen to meet the 30-year-old Selena's icy gaze. "You already have a mistress of your own, and yet you still can't bear to get a divorce from me, hmm? Zack Holt, you really are pathetic." As I watch the older Selena supporting Preston and walking away, the younger Selena starts kicking up a fuss in my arms once again. "That idiot! How dare she speak to my darling so arrogantly? Why, I might as well kill myself right now so that she'll disappear from this world as well!"

My fiancee, Isabelle Bailey, engages in a passionate kiss with her stage partner, Shawn Sanders, in a theater play. While the audience is wholly touched by the romance depicted by the main characters of the play, I know for a fact that the actual script doesn't feature the kissing scene at all. Guilt flickers across Isabelle's face at my confrontation. But she argues, "We were just acting! Are you saying that I can't act out romance scenes anymore?" I no longer demand answers from Isabelle like a hysterical fool. Instead, I give the roses that are cultivated from a new breed to the background actors. After leaving the afterparty, I call my mentor, Patrick White. "Professor, I'm willing to travel to the northwest to plant roses there."

On the first day back after the New Year break, I returned to find my workstation gone—replaced by two large trash bins sitting side by side. "Josh, even though you've been with the company for ten years, you still have to comply with company arrangements. "You were supposed to be reassigned before the holiday. We held off so you could enjoy your New Year. You should be grateful." As he spoke, my boss pointed toward a corner beside the restroom. There sat a set of low, worn desk and chair—something that looked like it had been discarded by an elementary school. I set my bag on it. The desk wobbled twice, then collapsed outright. Amid the muffled snickers around me, I didn't argue or make a scene. I simply looked at the boss, calm and steady. "You don't have to go through all this trouble to force me out. I'll resign now. I'll forfeit the compensation—just process it as quickly as possible." His eyes lit up, though his face feigned regret. "Since you've made up your mind, there's not much I can say. But the Vespere chip you've spent ten years developing belongs to the company—you have no right to take it with you. "Oh, and when you handle the paperwork, don't forget to pay for that cup of coffee in your hand. It's an employee benefit. As an outsider now, you'll have to cover the cost." I nodded and signed the termination agreement without resistance. But the moment I stepped out of the company, I activated the self-destruct program embedded deep within the chip's core.

The New Year was just around the corner. While I was doing a thorough cleaning, I stumbled upon something beneath the couch. It was a damp, used condom, and it still had a faint lipstick stain on the edge. One thing I was sure of was that I didn't use this brand, but the lipstick color? It matched perfectly with my girlfriend Lindsey Stirling's.

My dad is a fan of tough love parenting. When I was a kid, there was a time when I obtained full marks on two subjects. But he told me, "Your grades don't mean anything in life. If you were a true man, you'd leap down five floors without batting an eyelash." Some time later, I was awarded for my act of bravery. But Dad scoffed in my face. "Not even a hair is harmed on your head. Why should you be awarded anyway?" I thought Dad wanted me to go through more training in life. On Christmas Eve, he ditched me on a snowy mountain under the guise of wanting me to go through more training. He didn't give me a tent or a lighter. Later on, Dad even brags about his parenting method to his relatives and friends. "A real man should survive and thrive in a desperate situation! I told Julian that he can forget about being my son if he can't even make his way back to the summit!" But the red dot on the GPS tracker installed in his phone hasn't moved for the past three hours. The truth is, I've already frozen to death in the mountains. Trapped in my fist is a crumpled, torn scrap of paper. Meanwhile, my soul is currently floating above the dining table while watching Dad brag about his tough love parenting.

I’m the public lover of Tara Brewer, the underworld queen. She often dotes on me and treats me like I'm her most precious treasure, and she goes as far as to claim that she wants to give birth to ten children for me. But when I'm getting beaten up by others while completely drenched in my own blood, Tara doesn't recognize me at all. Instead, she turns to comfort her beau, Brandon Holden. "That filthy bastard has crossed you, honey! You can just beat him to death! I'll be your safety net!" Only then do I realize that Brandon is Tara's lover this whole time. As soon as Tara's words fall, she snatches the boxing gloves from Brandon and begins punching my face, which has a mixture of blood and tears streaking down my cheeks. At the same time, she says icily, "Don't worry. Once you're dead, I'll inform your wife so that she can pick up your corpse."

At midnight, I accidentally stumble upon the boss' daughter, Julianne Carter, pleasuring herself in the dimly-lit adult store. Her eyes are blindfolded, and her legs are spread on a special chair, where they are propped up on the arms. At the moment, she's cruising through the waves of pleasure uncontrollably. But when the chair malfunctions, Julianne is unable to free herself from the restraints no matter how hard she tries. That's when she starts calling for help. "Please… Please help me…" But I crouch down instead, allowing my fingers to glide across her thighs, past her calves, and back to her inner thighs. "Don't move. This chair's mechanisms are very complex. I need to study them thoroughly and slowly." "P-Please… hurry up…" I watch as Julianne's expression shifts from embarrassment to yearning. She finally stops struggling against the restraints when she breaks down from all the overwhelming sensations. "Give it to me… Please give everything to me…" Just as I'm about to yield, I hear the sounds of the boss, George Carter, opening the door coming from the outside. So, I quickly wheel Julianne into a nearby storeroom. That's where I see hyper-realistic molds that look exactly like Julianne.

On the fourth day after our son died, I decided to end my military marriage. Before that, I spent three days taking care of what remained of him. On the first day, I tricked my wife into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to my son's school and collected the textbooks he never had the chance to use. On the third day, I prepared a table full of his favorite dishes and begged my wife to come home so we could celebrate his birthday one last time. She agreed. Then she turned around, claimed she had a mission, and spent the entire night setting off fireworks with her childhood sweetheart. That night, I sat beside my son's memorial photo and ate alone. The next day, she came home looking guilty and handed me a brand new backpack. She said it was a gift for our son to use at school. She did not know that our child would never live to see his first day of school.

Misty Lawrence has an ex-boyfriend whom she can't forget—Zach Sterling. Carter Flanagan has always hoped that he would one day replace Zach's place in Misty's heart. In the eighth year of his and Misty's marriage, he accidentally breaks a bowl that Zach randomly bought. Misty screeches, "Get the hell out of here! I don't want to see you anymore!" That's when Carter realizes he'll never win when it comes to Zach, especially since the latter is dead. This time, he prepares a divorce agreement and leaves after signing it. It's Misty's turn to panic…