Imagines Scenarios Novels & Stories

Especially not when she's trying to count just how many butterflies are dancing in her stomach. "You can, just stop thinking, imagine your in a quiet place, okay, imagine it's night and you're in a boat in the middle of the ocean." She opened one eye to peer at him. "Middle of the ocean? Seriously?" "Come on June, close your eyes and imagine it, I'm trying to help you here. Try not to think of anything else, it's just you, me, on a boat in the middle of the Pacific where it's calm and quiet with the night sky above us."

Travelling to an imaginary world, Juliet didn't allow her hands stop at a place, she sent it down to her thighs, and started rubbing it gently, while looking into space, and speaking to an unknown and unseen figure, only existing in her head, whom she named Craig, who was also responding to her. "I have always wanted you Craig, and now that I have you so close to me, I am never going to allow anyone come between us". She says as she undressed, slowly, spreading her legs wider, as she gently touched her needy pot, stroking her clitoris to get her wetness, imagining that it was being done by her imaginary Craig.

I was the newcomer, the fresh meat, and I felt like a helpless animal in a den of predators. The sounds of the prison were a constant reminder of the reality I now faced. The distant echoes of inmates shouting, the clanging of metal doors, and the ever-present hum of fluorescent lights created a discordant symphony that played on my nerves. I wondered about the others in this place—what had brought them here, and how had they survived their first night?

I announced, my voice echoing slightly in the transformed space. Next, I cycled through various nature scenes, each more breathtaking than the last. Forests, beaches, and mountainscapes unfolded around us, drawing the audience's gasps and exclamations of wonder. The immersive experience was unlike anything they had seen before, and I could see the wheels turning in their heads, considering the potential applications.

I wonder if I did jump off the bridge… I immediately shake my head to ward off the morbid thoughts. Maybe I’ve only gone cuckoo from depression. I mean, really, if you think about it, who in their right mind would pay someone ten million dollars just to be a pretend fiancee? It’s too…improbable. Like an imagination gone wild. Too wild. Off the hinges kind of wild. Oh god, did I retreat to fantasyland to escape my problems? Have I gone round the bend? No, no, let’s not go there. Maybe…maybe I’m just…dreaming. There, that’s much more acceptable. But if I’m dreaming…then I can wake up if I—wait, wait, wait! Do I even want to wake up!?

This is just insane. **********

But for some reason, my mind was filled with all kinds of dirty images… Him on top of me…me scratching that back as my nails dug into that porcelain white skin…his lips on my throat… I had to visibly shake myself out of the sudden burst of images running through my mind and I didn’t know what had come over me that I had just imagined something so…vivid… The force of that daydream took me by surprise and I was left asking myself if I was even sane to be thinking about something like that when I was probably about to get fired for crossing certain lines?

His mind played out various scenarios – what if his father discovered the plan? What if Ava, instead of being drawn back to him, repelled by the orchestrated scheme? The " what-ifs " multiplied like ripples in a pond, threatening to drown his resolve. Just in time, Jayden stopped himself from spiraling further into the sea of doubts. The steering wheel felt cool under his grip as he reminded himself that dwelling on uncertainties wouldn't change the circumstances. With a deep breath, he redirected his thoughts, focusing on the actions he could take rather than the myriad possibilities that fueled his anxiety.

Impossible. I imagined Jake’s luggage already stowed in the trunk of his car, and him standing at the foot of the staircase, tapping his foot impatiently. My brain spiraled into chaos. Suddenly, a piercing scream tore from my throat. “AHHHHH!”

“About how big my coc—” “Finish that sentence and I will bite you,” I cut in, my ears burning. I keep my eyes closed, but that doesn’t stop my imagination from betraying me. I hear the water running. I can picture him moving, muscles shifting, confidence carved into every line of his body. The image is uninvited—and entirely too vivid. I hate my brain. I force myself to think of flowers. Of wolves running. Of anything—literally anything—that is not Kei bathing five steps away from me.