#christian moulin rouge x reader

[ficsforfandoms]

The Rest Of My Life

Prompt - ‘I’d like to laugh with her for the rest of my life.’ 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out Christian, any fool who took a single glance at him could sum him up quite as easily as somebody who had known him since he was just a small boy. They would tell you he was a man in love, in love with what nobody could ever guess. There was never a woman in his life, Christian had no experience with love and yet his whole life seemed to revolve around love.

Christian himself would tell you how beautiful love was, how it was all one needed to be happy. He was content to sit at his typewriter for hours on end, his fingers dancing quickly across the keys in a desperate attempt to keep up with each new thought and idea that came to him.

Love was beautiful. It was breathtaking. It made the world a better place. Christian could spend the rest of his life waxing the most adoring words to describe the feeling of being loved and being in love.

He might never have been in love but oh how he had dreamed of it. The feeling of his lover curled into his chest, his fingers trailing through soft hair, caressing her cheek before feeling her lips against his, the words he wrote suddenly having a new meaning because they were all about her.

Christian wanted to be in love more than anything.

It was perhaps for that reason that Christian hadn’t protested so much when Toulouse insisted he joined them at the Moulin Rouge that evening, a place he would never usually have frequented but he knew he wouldn’t find love sitting in his room. It was one of the reasons he had left London, he needed to put himself out there, he needed to find her.

So he went to the Moulin Rouge and he stared in wide eyed wonderment at the sights, there were so many different types of people, lights and jewels shone around the room, Christian wasn’t able to take everything in fast enough before the girls were singing and his attention was pulled to the front of the room.

He was quick to join in on the festivities as Toulouse pulled him along with a giant grin on his face, the music loud and the drink in his hand cold, Christian was singing and dancing along with the rest of the crowd in no time.

You were the first to spot him, watching as he laughed with his group of friends, looking so happy and carefree, like there was nothing bad in the world. He was beautiful, of that there was no doubt, but there was something about him beyond his beauty that seemed to pull you to him.

You stayed where you were though, despite wanting to make your way over to him, choosing instead to just observe him. You were quick to look away when he turned your way, focusing on the near empty drink in your head and hoping when you turned back he hadn’t disappeared from view.

Christian was enchanted in a second of seeing you. Alone at the bar, bringing a glass to your lips, Christian couldn’t look away if he tried. The flood of people separating you seemed to vanish from view for Christian, the songs and the dancing suddenly not all that interesting to him anymore. Of course how could they be when compared to you?

“Toulouse,” Christian said, not looking away from you as he called his friend's attention, “she’s beautiful.”

“So go and talk to her.” Toulouse encouraged and if only it could be that simple, for him to simply walk across the room and close the distance between the two of you.

“Oh I couldn’t!” Christian insisted, finally pulling his gaze from you to look at Toulouse with wide eyes. “I wouldn’t know what to say, what to do! She looks like a woman I could only dream about, what chance would a penniless nobody like me have with a woman like that?”

“Christian, it is easy, just tell her you think she’s beautiful and go from there. Don’t you think she should have a say in whether she wants to be with you?” Toulouse asked, smirking when Christian didn’t immediately shoot him down but instead turned back to you.

“Perhaps you’re right.” Christian said absentmindedly, his attention solely on you again. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Good luck!” Toulouse’s call was muffled as Christian made his way through the crowd, people moving this way and that, causing him to stumble his way through the sea of people before he finally made his way to where you sat alone at the bar, hands wrapped around an empty glass.

“Excuse me?” Christian started and you couldn’t help but smile at the soft voice to your right, glancing over when you saw the man from across the room standing nervously at your side. “If you wouldn’t mind the company, I’d quite like to join you.”

Your smile widened and Christian was mesmerised. He could sit and stare at you all day, already he had hundreds of words running through his head that he was desperate to type out, finally having real inspiration for his poems.

“Please do take a seat.” You told him, gesturing to the seat next to you and Christian had to control his smile at your voice, you sounded as beautiful as you looked, a voice he’d quite like to listen to for the rest of his life.

“Could I buy you another drink?” Christian offered as he gestured down to your empty glass.

“I’d like that, thank you.”

It wasn’t long before the two of you had drinks in front of you, Christian unable to look away from you for even a single moment whereas you kept glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, thankful that he seemed as captivated by you as you were for him.

“I’m sorry, how rude of me, I completely forgot to introduce myself. I’m Christian.” He introduced himself, a pink flush spreading across his check that you could help but giggle softly at, a sound that had Christian’s heart speeding up.

“Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You told him with a smile and Christian wanted you to always smile at him like that.

“You truly are beautiful, Y/N.” Christian said, the words falling from his lips seemingly without his permission if his wide eyes and startled look was anything to go by but you just laughed again and the sound alone seemed to calm him.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” You asked him and watched as his eyebrows knitted together before he shook his head. “I figured, most men don’t speak to any women here quite so nicely.”

“That’s ridiculous! Surely somebody else must have noticed your beauty? One look from across the room and I knew I just had to know you!” Christian exclaimed, baffled at your words.

“You’re a romantic sort, aren’t you? I’ve never heard anyone speak quite like you do.” You told him with a soft smile, glad he had come to join you.

“Oh yes! I love everything about love, there’s no better feeling, nothing better in the whole world than love!” Christian told you enthusiastically and you couldn’t help but smile along with him.

Christian felt himself blush under your smile, knowing how he could get when the subject of love was brought up. Suddenly, here before you, it felt like everything he had known about love was wrong, it was so much more consuming than he could have ever thought it would be.

“I wish I believed in love half as much as you seem to.” You told him wistfully, glancing down into your drink and missing Christian’s wide eyed look of horror.

“You don’t believe in love?” He exclaimed and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It’s not that I don’t believe in love, of course it’s real,” You said before sighing, “It’s just that, I don’t know, sometimes I wonder if I was ever made to be loved like that.”

“Of course you were.” Christian said once the words were out of your mouth and you turned to look at him in confusion, he debated whether he should carry on before deciding it was worth it. “Of course you were made to be loved, I knew the moment I saw you that you were put here, right here in Montmartre, here on this very night in the Moulin Rouge, to be loved!”

“You can’t possibly mean that, Christian.” You brushed him off with a huff of a laugh but continued looking at him, the determined look on his face had you doubting your own words.

“But I do.” He insisted. “You see, I’m a poet, I write about love and never have I met anybody in my whole life who gives my words meaning. Suddenly everything I have ever written about faceless people seems dreadfully dull when compared to what I want to write about you!”

“I’ve never been loved before.” You told him softly.

“I’ve never been in love before.” He admitted, his voice just as quiet as yours and the two of you remained that way for several moments, the noises of the Moulin Rouge muted around you.

“You hardly know me.” You finally said, not sure if it was an attempt to stop whatever seemed to be occurring or an invitation for him to accept.

“I’d like to though, more than anything in the whole world.” He told you, everything about him radiated sincerity. “I quite think I’d like to spend the rest of my life getting to know you.”

You were silent again, left speechless as you stared at the man who gave you a sheepish smile, reaching up to push his hair back nervously as he waited for you to say something. You weren’t quite sure you could find any words though at the moment so instead just nodded, strangely taken with the young man and wanting to know him as much as he did you.

“Would you like to leave? We could go anywhere you like.” Christian asked and you nodded again, allowing him to take your hand and lead you away from the bright lights.

The two of you stayed that way, walking alongside each other long after the music and singing coming from the Moulin Rouge had faded, hands entwined as you both filled the silence. Christian told you about why he had come to Paris, leaving behind a life in London in exchange for a chance to make a new one, one filled with love and poetry. You told him about your life too, telling him of the adventures that you had that had led you all the way to Paris and the Moulin Rouge.

The two of you wandered the streets for hours, barely noticing the time pass as you traded secrets and stories. It wasn’t until yawns started to interrupt your conversations that you both realised that hours had passed since you’d left the Moulin Rouge.

“I don’t want this night to end.” Christian told you, looking at you with a sad, regretful look. “I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a night like this one.”

“I can say the same thing myself. I’ve rather liked getting to know you, Christian.” You said and watched as his expression morphed into a smile.

“We will do this again, won’t we? Oh, please say we will, Y/N!” Christian exclaimed, causing you to laugh, smiling brightly at him and Christian found himself returning the gesture without a second thought.

Your smile truly was contagious.

“I’d like nothing more.” You told him truthfully, giggling again as his smile spread impossibly wider as he pulled you closer to him.

“Can I walk you home?” He asked and you immediately agreed, even after spending so long together tonight you wanted to stay with him a little while longer.

The walk home consisted of much softer spoken conversation, the both of you knowing that in a matter of minutes you’d have to part ways. When your building came into sight you sighed softly and turned to Christian.

“I can’t wait to see you again.” Christian said as he reached over to brush a strand of hair away before his hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone.

He gave you plenty of time to pull away but instead you leaned forward, meeting him halfway. Christian suddenly understood every word he had ever read, he realised every cliche was real when he felt your lips against his, the world around him forgotten as he kissed you back until you were both breathless and forced to pull away.

“Goodnight Christian.” You murmured, leaning up to place a lingering kiss against his lips before stepping back to memorise the dazed look on Christian’s face.

“Goodnight Y/N.” Christian whispered, keeping his gaze on you until you’d disappeared behind the closed door of your apartment building.

He stayed where he was for a few moments longer, just smiling to himself with the memory of your lips against his running through his head. You were truly unlike anybody he had ever met before, someone he knew he had to know, had to keep in his life.

Christian walked home with his smile firmly in place and let himself into his own rooms, shrugging his coat off before taking a seat at the table, his trusty typewriter already waiting for him.

Tonight I met her, the girl who gives meaning to every word of love, each line sounds beautiful and new because of her. Suddenly I know what love is, an all-encompassing feeling that I will treasure for the rest of my life, a life I hope to share with her. She’s beautiful, not just in the way she looks but in the way she talks, in the way she laughs. I laughed more tonight than I ever have in my life. I think…no I know I’d like to laugh with her for the rest of my life.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

A Fistful Of Romance - Christian X Female Reader

Title: A Fistful Of Romance

Christian X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Henri (Mentioned), and Le Chocolat (Mentioned)

Requested By: Anon!

WC: 1,414

Warnings: Reader's basically Satine (no hate to her, I love her), no sickness mentioned, The Duke, harassment, attempted forced kiss, Duke mentioned flirting with Reader, jealous Christian, physical violence (one punch), blood mentioned briefly, nicknames, slight angst, and fluff

The Moulin Rouge was busy, busy, busy; as it was, most of the time. You were one of the performers, the best actually. There wasn’t a whole lot that could be said about your job, but if you wanted to get paid for what you did, you had to work hard. Dancing and singing were hard to do, it was a difficult task to do night after night, with little breaks and sore feet and voices. But, after Christian came to the Moulin Rouge, your days and nights seemed to grow brighter.

He showed you that you could find love, that you were worthy of love, and that he could treat you well, with love, happiness, and respect. It was hard to say no, this offer almost seemed too good to be true, but when he swept you off into his beautiful song, you knew it must be real. He made you feel warm and happy, as though the world around you didn’t matter, as though everything that you needed was right in front of you. You and Christian were the perfect pair.

Everything was perfect…

Except, it wasn't. Nothing was perfect. Nothing was going to be perfect. The world wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. You wished it was, Christian felt the same too. You both wished that everything could be perfect. Living a different life, somewhere new and beautiful; happy and free.

But with this... This oaf, The Duke. He ruined everything. The Duke ruined every chance of anything being perfect. He ruined everything because he wanted to. Because he could. And the only way that he could was by hurting everyone who got in his way. That, or he tried to.

For you though, he didn't think he was ruining your life at all. In fact, he thought that he could make it better. He offered you hundreds of things; jewels, money, power, but not love. You knew that he could never love you. He was in love with the idea of you, your beauty. Not your talents, brains, or anything else. All he wanted was someone pretty to use and look at. And you were not leaving your Christian for that. So you turned him down. No matter what he offered, no matter how many promises he made, you would always stay faithful to your man. That's just how it was. 

And you thought that he'd give up, but he didn't. He used every chance that he could get to try and flirt with you, win you over. But it was all for nothing. You always ignored the man and walked away when things got too touchy on his part, but for Christian... Well, it was beginning to become too much to bear for him. How dare this man, Duke or not, try and win you over? Even though Christian knew that he had zero chance. How dare he? You and Christian were in love. Love! And nothing was going to break that bond. Not even a spoiled rich brat like The Duke himself. 

But your love was a secret, almost to everybody, except two people, Henri and Le Chocolat. They kept your secrets, but as Christian stood on the sidelines of the stage, watching as The Duke, once more, trying to lure you into his grasp with sparkly dresses and things; he felt his blood boil. With dark, narrowed eyes - his face hardened - as he watched. His hands curled into tight fits at his sides, his breathing becoming deep, his heart hurting. An overwhelming feeling of envy - jealousy - was slowly corrupting his soul.

He watched as you crossed your arms, turning your head away from the man as he tried so desperately to get your attention, while he gave an obnoxious laugh. You rolled your eyes, scoffed, and moved further away, but The Duke followed, taking your hand and pulling you into him. Your eyes widened as he tried to then lean in, his lips pursed in an attempt to steal your kiss... Only to have his hand snatched away by Christian. 

You sighed out a breath, relieved that he came to your aid. But right before you could thank him, your eyes met his dark ones. Those swirls of blue and hints of green stared daggers at The Duke. His face hadn't changed as his grip tightened around The Duke's wrist before he pushed the man away.

"Excuse me!" The Duke exclaimed, blinking rapidly as he staggered back, raising his hands to fix the collar of his suit. "How dare you touch me." He glared at Christian, whose eyes had remained narrow since the man's fingers touched you. 

"How dare you touch her." Christian countered, keeping his voice low yet firm.

The Duke snarled, "How dare you interrupt us! We were having a private conversation."

"Private conversation?" Christian scoffed, taking his chance to take your hand, gently pushing you behind him. "It looked like you were trying to force her to kiss you."

"That is none of your business." The Duke retorted, his teeth grinding together. "I don't know why you seem to care so much." He then huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "She's only a dancer-"

You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth, your eyes widening as you watched Christian draw back his fist and punch The Duke square in the nose. A large crack was heard as the man's nose broke, causing him to fall backward, clutching his broken nose as the blood gushed profusely. The Duke cried out in pain, cradling his broken nose as he lay there on the ground, looking up at Christian in shock. Everyone stopped their chatter and watched in horror as The Duke struggled to stand. 

Without a word, Christian took your hand and pulled you away, and you followed him, into the depths of the dark backstage. You felt almost out of breath, shocked, you never thought your Christin would punch The Duke. Leaning against the wall, you watched as Christian shut his eyes, trying to calm himself, his hand still holding yours. 

"You punched him. You... I never- I..." You stuttered out, at a loss for words as Christian looked up at you.

"I'm sorry, my love," He spoke softly, mentally tired, "I just... I wasn't thinking..."

Your heart warmed, you took his hand that was holding you with your other one, gently pulling him closer to you, your lips pressing a soft kiss to his sore knuckles. "Christian, my dearest. Thank you for that. Thank you so much." You murmured, leaning up, kissing him gently.

Christian smiled against your lips, leaning into you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "Of course, my darling. Of course. I just... I couldn't just watch as he put his hands on you. And when he spoke about you in such a way..." He paused, shaking his head before continuing, "You're not just a dancer, my love, my stars,"  He continued, his voice soft yet filled with passion, "You're my world. And I'll protect you, with all my heart." 

You sighed softly, your shoulders dropping as you stared up at him, "Oh, Christian... Thank you..." You whispered, resting your forehead against his. "You're my world as well." 

The two of you stayed there for a moment, silent. Then you began giggling quietly, and soon enough Christian joined in; your laughter was infectious. "What are you giggling about, my darling," Christian muttered, and you bit your lip as you tried to calm your laughter.

"His face..." You began, shoulders shaking up and down from your giggles, you pressed a hand to your mouth, "He looked so... Surprised."

Christian's eyes softened and his smile grew, admiring the sight of you in his arms. His hand gently caressed your cheek, his fingers brushing against your soft skin, your eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks. "Yes, I suppose he did." He responded, smiling slightly.

You felt him lean in, his hot breath warming your skin. When he brushed his lips against yours, you felt a shiver run through you, a warmth spread throughout your whole body. You smiled and tilted your head slightly as your lips brushed against his. You kissed softly, lightly, your eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of his lips on yours. You loved the sensation of his strong arms wrapped tightly around you. When you finally parted, you rested your head against his chest as he wrapped his arms tighter around you.

And there, in his arms, you were safe.

---

Main Masterlist | Misc. Masterlist

[the-sparkling-diamond-satine]

#13 (“you make me feel safe”) from the angst/fluff prompt list

Hi hi, thank you for the ask!!

New Christian/Satine Moulin Rouge! fic alert!

darling, whenever i try to tell you my voice gets caught (i’ve been breaking down doors to reach you but the words stay locked)

With Christian’s support, Satine learns that it’s okay to express her discomfort and dislikes.

Read it now on AO3!

[comewhatmayy]

KINKTOBER DAY 20- THIGH RIDING (CHRISTIAN)

Walking into your room after work, you set your bag down.

Christian looks up from the book he's reading, a warm smile spreading across his face as he takes in the sight of you.

"Ah, my love. How was your day? You look stunning, as always." He sets the book aside and rises from the chair, walking over to you with an intent gaze, his eyes roving over your curves.

"I've missed you. Did you have a good time at work?" He takes your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulls you in for a gentle kiss.

“It was alright,” you say as you kiss him back softly.

Christian's eyes light up with desire as he deepens the kiss, his lips moving hungrily against yours.

"Mmm, I can tell you're not telling me everything," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "But I'm willing to make you forget all about it."

He nips at your earlobe, his hands sliding down to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "I've been thinking about you all day, about how much I want to touch you, to feel your skin against mine."

His fingers dig gently into your hips, his thumbs stroking the curves of your thighs.

“Forget?” you question.

Christian's eyes sparkle with mischief as he pulls back, his gaze locked on yours. "Forget everything, except for the feeling of my hands on you, of my lips on your skin, of my body inside yours."

He takes a step closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I want to make you feel alive, to make you scream my name, to make you beg for more."

His hands slide up your thighs, his fingers teasing the hem of your skirt. "Let me take you away from everything. Let me show you what it means to be loved by me."

“Mhm,” you sigh.

Christian's eyes gleam with excitement as he hears your sigh, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your skirt to caress the soft skin of your thighs.

"Mhm, what is it that you want, ma belle?" He whispers, his voice a gentle breeze against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Do you want me to touch you here?" His fingers brush against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, sending a spark of electricity through your body.

"Or do you want me to take you right here, against the wall?" He asks, his voice low and husky, his words dripping with desire.

“I, I want to,” you sputter.

Christian's eyes burn with lust as he looks at you, his hands gripping your thighs firmly.

"Tell me, baby," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "What is it that you want?"

He pulls you closer, his hips pressing against yours, letting you feel the growing bulge in his trousers. "Do you want me to take you right here, to have you riding my thigh until you're trembling with pleasure?"

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, slowly sliding higher, teasing the sensitive skin.

Christian's eyes flash with excitement as he sees your nod, his grip on your thighs tightening.

"Ah, Y/N, you're so beautiful when you're eager for me," he whispers, his voice dripping with desire.

"Let me help you get what you want." He pulls you closer, his lips meeting yours in a fierce kiss as his hands slide up to the hem of your skirt, pulling it up to your hips.

"Ride my thigh, baby," he mutters against your lips.

"Show me how much you want me." He positions himself, his thigh spreading wide to allow you to sit down, his fingers digging into your hips to hold you in place.

Christian lets out a shuddered breath as you begin to grind against his thigh, your hips rocking in a slow, sensual rhythm.

He tightens his grip on your waist, guiding your movements as he peppers passionate kisses along your neck.

"Ah, you feel so good," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

"Don't stop, keep riding me just like that." His hands slide down to grip your backside, kneading the soft flesh as he helps you press harder against his muscular thigh.

The friction builds, sending sparks of pleasure through both of your bodies.

Christian's eyes close in ecstasy as he feels your fingertips tracing patterns in his hair, his head tilting to the side to give you better access.

He continues to guide your movements, his hands holding you in place as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

"Oh, baby, you're so close, I can feel it," he moans, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own ragged breathing.

"Let go, let me feel you come undone." His thigh presses harder against yours, the friction building to a crescendo as he helps you reach the peak of your pleasure.

“Christian,” you moan against his shoulder.

Christian's breath catches in his throat as he hears you moan his name, the sound igniting a wildfire of desire within him.

He pulls you even closer, his large hands cradling your hips as he grinds his thigh harder against your most sensitive spot.

"That's it, Y/N, say my name," he growls, his voice dripping with lust. "I want to hear you scream it when you come undone for me."

His lips crash against yours in a passionate, messy kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with desperate fervor as the tension builds between you.

Christian's eyes snap open, his gaze locking onto yours as he feels the gentle vibrations of your moan against his lips.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a sensual rhythm that mirrors the motion of your hips pressed against his thigh.

"You're so close, baby," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "I can feel it, I can feel the way you're trembling with pleasure."

He pulls back, his lips skimming against your ear as he whispers a single, urgent word. "Come."

Christian's eyes widen with delight as he feels you come undone against his thigh, your soft moans sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.

"That's it, baby, let go," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he holds you close, guiding you through the waves of your climax.

"You feel so good, so perfect in my arms." He presses soft, lingering kisses along your neck, his grip on your hips tightening possessively. "I want to make you feel this way forever."

Still recovering from your high, you reach up and caress his cheek. “But you didn’t… I didn’t pleasure you,”

Christian's face softens, his eyes filling with understanding and adoration as he looks at you.

"Baby, I'm not concerned with my own pleasure at the moment," he says, his voice gentle and reassuring.

"I'm more concerned with making sure you're happy, that you're feeling loved and desired." He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, sweet kiss.

"But don't worry about me, I'm fine. I want to see you happy, and if that means I don't get what I want, then so be it." He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Besides, I think I just got what I wanted. Watching you come undone, feeling your body tremble with pleasure... that's all I could ever ask for,” he motions against your cheek.

“So perfect,” you respond, grasping his hand in yours.

Christian's eyes widen with delight at your words, his heart swelling with adoration.

"Oh, you flatter me," he murmurs, leaning in to pepper your face with tender kisses. "I am far from perfect, but I strive to be the man you deserve. To make you feel cherished, adored... that is my greatest joy."

He pulls you into a warm embrace, his strong arms enveloping you as he rests his chin atop your head. "You have captured my heart, Y/N, and I am forever yours."

“And i’m yours,” you say as you kiss him softly, slowly getting onto your knees. “but for now…”

Christian's eyes sparkle with amusement and desire as he watches you move into position, his hands instinctively dropping to his belt buckle to release the catch.

"Baby, you're a tease, aren't you?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation.

"But I'm more than happy to play along." He pushes off from the desk, his body unfolding as he stands up, his eyes locked on yours with a burning intensity.

"For now, indeed," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

[miseries-mistress]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐂𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⇢ main masterlist. || spicy - 🔭๋࣭ ⭑ dark - 🪐⊹ ࣪ ˖ my fav - ☄️⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ||

ᴍᴏᴜʟɪɴ ʀᴏᴜɢᴇ

We Should Be Lovers (☄️⋆⭒˚｡⋆)

Our Love

ᴛʀᴀɪɴꜱᴘᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ

The Eyes of Another (☄️⋆⭒˚｡⋆)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ heavily inspired by @kneamet .

©2024 miseries-mistress. do not copy, translate, modify, or repost my content onto other sites without my permission

[edgessunflower]

Christian Masterlist

Je t'aime tellement

[slashingdisneypasta]

Erik Destler x Fem!StageActress!Reader || Would Include...

Erik Destler always learning your on-stage romantic interests part totally and then 'dispatching' of the poor guy just before he's meant to go on so he then can always taking his place would include...

Warnings: Contemporary musical references, I don't care, shoot me. Also just basic Erik creepiness; murder and not-super-consensual kissing/touches (dub con at most).

Tagging: @marinerainbow and @masqueradeball .

🥀 Erik falling for you almost the moment you entered the Palais Garnier for the first time. He has no chill, we know this. He's like a Disney Princess. One song and he's fallen hopelessly in love.

🥀 Erik always keeping an eye on the cast lists when they come out- checking who you are and if you have a romantic interest. If you do, that person is now his main target. He may not kill them immediately, he'll wait until the final show on the final night, but there is a big red bullseye on their back now.

🥀 Erik practising 'his' lines (The lines of your on-stage romance) in his sewer room, reciting them to a dummy wearing some... familiar clothing. What? No, he didn't sneak into your chambers in the middle of the night and steal them from you! No, no! Absolutely not!... though you are missing a dress exactly like the one the doll is wearing. *cough*

🥀 Erik treating that doll of you with the utmost care. Almost as much as he'd treat you, the real you, with (Or, how he'd like to treat you. Only the lord knows if Erik could actually be gentle if given the chance to hold you). Its really creepy. Imagine his fingertips only grazing the dolls cheek very gently, but his eyes drift downwards (even though, again, its JUST A DOLL- ITS JUST STUFFING, ERIK!- Y O U ' R E T H E O N E W H O S T U F F E D I T- ) with very desire-filled eyes. Imagine him on one knee before the doll, holding its hand in his, its dead-eyes staring off into space while he professes deep speeches about love that are supposed to be romantic but just come out wrong and infatuated off Erik's tongue. Imagine Erik's hand wandering in the middle of a particularly heated scene; completely lost to his imagination.

🥀 Erik n e v e r, ever stealing the part of a villain. Even if that villain gets much more heated, or charged scenes with you then your actual love interest (Duke Monroth, Professor Callahan, Judge Turpin, Scar, etc). He wants to be your hero. Your prince, your true love.

🥀 Erik watching your every show, in his special box 5, studying you with eyes so hot you swear you can feel them on your skin every night. Paying so close attention, so he knows exactly how to compliment you on stage; how to be your perfect stage partner. This is why your scenes in every last show at the Palais Garnier are so impossibly electrifying to the audience- and, to you.

🥀 Erik allowing your casted partner to appear in the first few scenes with you during that last performance on that last night, so you never really know when its going to stop being the one guy and start being Erik- you're on your toes. Waiting the whole performance for the hand you grab onto to be Erik's. (He's waiting for the perfect moment to step in. The moment when you're really, really in character; lost to your art.)

🥀 Erik being the Christian to your Satine during 'El Tango De Roxanne' (His eyes upon your face. His hand upon your hand. His lips caress your skin. It's more than I can stand), 'Crazy Rolling' (See how I leave with every piece of you. Don't underestimate the things I will do), and 'Your Song Reprise' (Look at me... Satine... Why else live, if not for love?) in Moulin Rouge.

🥀 Erik being the Fiyero to your Elphaba during that super fucking charged 'As Long As You're Mine' scene in Wicked. You know? With you both on your knees on the stage surrounded by dramatic mist and you cant keep your hands off eachother?? *cough cough* I mean, with you both on your knees on the stage surrounded by dramatic mist and Fiyero and Elphaba cant keep their hands off eachother??? XD (Kiss me too fiercely, Hold me too tight; I need help believing, You're with me tonight, My wildest dreamings, Could not foresee, Lying beside you, With you wanting me // Every moment, As long as you're mine, I'll wake up my body, And make up for lost time.)

🥀 Erik being the Prince to your Sleeping Beauty, Snow White during the True Love's Kiss Scene. Oh yes, he definitely goes there. Did you doubt it?

🥀 Erik AS THE BEAST IN 'EVERMORE' TO YOUR BELLE IN BEAUTY AND THE BEAST!!!?

🥀 Erik never appearing at the end of the production to bow- he cant. You know that. So he makes his last moments on stage with you last, because honestly- who knows when the next time will be?? Its not like he can come call on you like a normal person... 🙄he's a dramatic freak. He holds your hand a few moments longer then necessary, or a little tighter. He kisses you one more time even though its not scripted.

🥀 Erik leaving you a bouquet of flowers in your dressing room after that last show on that last night. Signed simply, ceaselessly yours.

~

🥀 You tell yourself every time that the show must go on. You tell yourself, that thats why you don't stop it; Don't do anything.

🥀 You are lying to yourself. You cant deny the electricity crackling all over your skin every time you see Erik on stage with you, every time Erik touches you under fake pretences. You've never felt quite the same on stage then when he's there with you; you feel like you're really the characters... and there is nothing on earth like that feeling. No one else can give you this. No one but him.

🥀 You expect it now and anxiously await the moment when your practise partner (Just Erik's understudy. Thats what you're thinking of them now; the men who are actually cast) dematerialises from the stage and its Erik.

🥀 You always leave the flowers from Erik at the grave of the man who died. Its sick, the game (?? habit?? r e l a t i o n s h i p??) you're in, but you cant stop. And you cant apologise, so you can only do this.

🥀 You working extra hard to get lead roles at the Palais Garnier. As soon as one show is over, you have a hunger to do it again. Get another part, get Erik back on that stage with you.

Its like an addiction.

[ghostieboi1]

Papas and How They Love

No gifs belong to me

Papas x GN!Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Summary: How I think the Papas show their love that I can explain through other fictional character romances

Characters: Primo, Secondo, Terzo, Copia

Warning: Mentions sexual themes

Primo

Primo very much has an older fashion and style of showing his love for you.

He's a gentle lover, both in public and behind closed doors.

The best media example I could provide is Christian from Moulin Rouge.

He leans a bit more towards the shy side, he falls for you first but makes you fall harder with his care for you, makes you feel like you're constantly living a dream, acts a bit timid about intimacy until you've established a relationship, wouldn't know what to do with himself should something happen to you.

Primo is also definitely a kind of lover that always wants you near, would risk his own life if people considered your love forbidden.

He could live with you walking away from him, but if you died? He would never forgive himself.

Secondo

Secondo's love in intense in every aspect.

There's always a burning bubble of want and need between you two.

The best media example I can provide is the Phantom from The Phantom Of The Opera.

Secondo wants nothing more than for you to submit to him in every way, he may be a bit controlling but will let you do as you please if you push back hard enough, he will fight for your love, nothing could stop him from wanting you.

Some people fear you and some people admire you for dating such an intimidating man, but he gets a rush off that alone.

He would never do anything to harm you, not on purpose. However, should another person look at you with every intent of stealing you, they might go missing forever.

Terzo

Obviously, mostly everyone sees Terzo as a form of a sex magnet, but that's oddly not the case.

Terzo has a sweet way of loving you, the last thing he'd want you to assume was that he was just using you for his pleasures.

The best media example I can provide is Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

He might not notice you right away but once he does, every little greeting means so much to him, he's gentle with you and is nervous with you.

Terzo's never met anyone that's made him feel the way you make him feel, so he does everything in his power to let you know how much you mean to him.

He's even soft in the bed, contrary to popular belief.

He loves you. He wants you to know that.

Copia

When I tell you this man is obsessed with you, I mean it.

Whatever it is you desire, Copia will make sure you get it no matter the cost.

The best media example I can provide is Gomez Addams from The Addams Family (any version will do).

His love for you is overwhelming even to him, he can't keep his hands and lips off of you.

He's more sex driven than Terzo in a relationship but he is the bottom. Once you get him into the bedroom, he's consented to everything you want to do to him.

He can and will worship the ground you walk on, he'd even kiss it if people didn't think he was insane for it.

Copia does the hand to shoulder kiss thing too.

He will also always make you dance with him.

[broadwaycantdie]

Theater Camp

james potter x fem!reader

Synopsis: james convinces you to go to theater camp with him. you secretly love it and you guys become close. it’s the final show of the summer and you’re putting on Moulin Rouge.

Genre: fluff

Authors Note: this came to me in a dream, also this will be on my AO3 if you prefer that

Warnings: spoilers for Moulin Rouge the musical

—

“SATINE??” you yell.

“Yes! I got Christian! Who’d you get y/n” James calls out happily.

“I got Satine. I didn’t even audition for her, I auditioned for Nini”, you reply.

“Well maybe you blew them away enough to get you a lead role.”

James was born to be a leading man. But you? You were terrified. This was the first time you’ve been casted in a lead role, and with a show as complex as this one. But you put the feelings behind you when you think about the idea that someone thought you were good enough to be a lead.

—

The weeks go by as you rehearse like crazy.

James is a natural. Christian is a perfect role for him. He’s off book by week 2, while you’re still struggling. He encourages you every day and never gives up.

You’ve been friends with James for years now so he knows exactly how to help you. But you’ve always been just that—friends. And that’s how you’d like to keep it. You didn’t want to mess up your friendship with The Marauders, even though Sirius and Remus were already dating. But they have been for years. This was different.

You see James’ talents really shine through this role. Like it was written for him. You kind of forget that you’re Y/N and James, and instead you’re Satine and Christian. Rehearsing Come What May made you legitimately cry. And you couldn’t help but laugh at James’ corny dance during Elephant Love Medley—which he did over and over to get it right.

But you pushed your feelings away and focused on being the best Satine you could be, and you were feeling quite happy with your performance. But the show was coming up quick and your nerves couldn’t help but rear their ugly heads.

—

Half hour to places and you’re panicking.

“I don’t know my lines!! I can’t remember anything!!” you yell out, “I can’t do this, I’m gonna freeze.”

Your friends are trying to calm you down while simultaneously getting ready.

“Where’s James?” one of them calls out, “he’s the only thing that’ll get her to relax. We all know you love him.”

The girls start laughing while you blush.

“What? No I don’t! We’re friends, have been for years. That’s it.”

They continue to laugh and you feel yourself get even more red. You start backing up towards the door to get some air.

“And even if I was in love with James—which I’m not—it wouldn’t matter anyway cause he doesn’t fancy me like that.”

The girls quiet their laughter into giggles as a voice speaks up behind you.

“Oi, y/n, you’re not?”

Shit. It was James. You try to act cool but you very clearly aren’t. You’re half dressed to go on, flushed red, and sweating from panic. But James. He looks perfect. That cheeky smile of his you can’t help but love covered his face as he leaned on the doorframe.

“You have a crush on me, y/n?” he smiles so brightly, “or was it…in love with me?”

He’s so cocky.

You cover your eyes with your hands as your face flushes scarlet. He grabs your wrists lightly.

“Don’t do that, you’ll mess up your makeup. We’re still going on.”

You get shoved back into reality when James says that. Suddenly you remember why you were panicking in the first place.

“James”, you say seriously, “I don’t know my lines.”

“Yes you do.” He replies, matter-of-factly.

“No I don’t. It’s gone. I can’t remember a thing.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead lightly.

“Baby you’re a firework.” He says softly.

He leaves you to finish getting ready and you feel different. Now instead of panicking about your lines, which you still aren’t convinced you know yet, you’re panicking about possibly dating your best friend.

Suddenly it’s showtime. You hear the beginning notes and you know it’s now or never. You get situated in your satin swing and wait for your time to sparkle.

You don’t understand how, but as soon as the lights hit you, you transform. You know every word, every beat, every step exactly how it’s performed. You transform into Satine. Then you look at James. He ogling at you, as his character is supposed to do, but you can’t help but think maybe he’s being for real.

The show goes on without a hitch. You and James feel so natural on the stage. You’re being playful and coy. Teasing and flirting as the characters do. The crowd is loving it. You find it extremely easy to pretend to fall in love with him.

By the time you die in his arms, you’re exhausted. And you can feel James’ tears fall onto your cheeks. He’s really selling it.

You finish the show and do your bows. After running off the stage you and James meet face to face. In a rush of adrenaline he grabs your face and kisses you. Not how he did in the show. But instead with so much passion and trust. He kissed you like he really meant it. And you kissed him back, melting into his lips.

You break apart and look at each other. Sweaty, tired, and out of breath. He smiles sweetly.

“Wait till we tell everyone back home.”

[mcavoy-girl]

We need more fanfiction of the following characters/celebs:

Dean Winchester x reader from Supernatural

Charles Xavier x reader from X-Men

Erik Lehnsherr x reader from X-Men

Robbie Turner x reader from Atonement

Beau Arlen x reader from Big Sky

Soldier boy x reader from The Boys

Wolverine x reader from X-Men

James McAvoy x reader

Hugh Jackman x (daughter) reader

Michael Fassbender x reader

Tony Stark x reader, preferably daughter!reader from Marvel-movies

Clint Barton x reader from Marvel-movies

Avengers x reader, any Avenger at all really.

Gellert Grindelwald (Johnny Depp) x reader from Fantastic Beasts

Albus Dumbledore (Jude Law) x reader from Fantastic Beasts

Jack Dawson x reader, Titanic

Legolas x reader from Hobbit-movies and Lord of the Rings-movies

Aragorn x reader from Lord of the Rings-movies

Eomer x reader from Lord of the Rings-movies

Faramir x reader from Lord of the Rings-movies

Castiel x reader from Supernatural

LOTR/Hobbit characters x reader

Charlie Hudson x reader from Hudson & Rex

Lord Asriel x reader from His Dark Materials

Nick Ryan x reader from McLeod's daughters

Richard O'Connell x reader from The Mummy movies

Wade Wilson/Deadpool x reader from Deadpool-movies

Richard Castle x reader from Castle

Drover (Hugh Jackman) x reader from Australia

Ronan Keating x reader

Christian x reader from Moulin Rouge

Aidan Turner x reader and his characters x reader

James Bond (Daniel Craig) x reader

Bucky Barnes x reader

Steve Rogers x reader

Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader from Star Wars prequels and Obi-Wan Kenobi-series

Ewan McGregor x reader

Anakin Skywalker x reader from Star Wars prequels

Hayden Christensen x reader

Owen Grady x reader from Jurassic World

Bucky Barnes x reader from Marvel-movies

Sirius Black x reader from Harry Potter- movies

Cedric Diggory x reader from Harry Potter- movies

Draco Malfoy x reader from Harry Potter-movies

Indiana Jones x reader from Indiana Jones- movies

Cillian Murphy x reader

Tommy Shelby x reader from Peaky Blinders

Harry Goodman x daughter reader from Pokemon Detective Pikachu

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x (daughter) reader from Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick

Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x (daughter) reader from Top Gun/ Top Gun: Maverick

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader from Top Gun: Maverick

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader from Top Gun: Maverick

Robin Hood/Robin of Loxley (Taron Egerton) x reader from Robin Hood

Rafe McCawley x reader from Pearl Harbor

Daniel "Danny" Walker x reader from Pearl Harbor

Eggsy Unwin x reader from the Kingsman-movies

Colter Shaw x reader from Tracker

I'll add here more as I remember more characters/celebs. I prefer character x female reader. The ones in bold need more fanfiction.

[cloverhasnobrain]

Why is there not more Moulin Rouge content?? Where are the Christian x reader fics?!?!?!?!?!!

Please?

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hihihi! I'm begginggggg you do something like fluff where the reader is satine and at rehearsal Christian gets jealous over some guy flirting w the reader 🙏 ty!

I'm sorry it took a while to post, but I hope you love it nonetheless!

[melancholypancakes]

Morpheus x Witch!Reader x Desire Fanfic Idea

https://youtu.be/Rn0xXo1gwGY

El tango de Roxanne is perfect for Morpheus x reader x Desire especially if there is a Moulin Rouge AU. 

Morpheus is Christian 

Desire is The duke 

Y/n is Satine 

Anyway, fanfic idea :) 

Y/n is a mortal woman looking for a fresh start in life from her past deeds when she is suddenly in a love triangle between two endless beings. 

She never intended this, of course, she didn’t know if she was cursed to encounter such beings and creatures for all entirety or blessed. 

There was Morpheus, the endless of the dreaming realm. He was brooding, handsome, and charming to Y/n. 

He cared a lot about her, her feelings, and her well-being and never judge her for her past as she did not judge him nor ask him to speak of it. 

Morpheus was deeply in love with the witch Y/n as she was in love with him, however, there was the other man. 

Desire, the endless of all desires, and y/n had met him first in the past for her sin of being lustful. 

No mortal, not even a witch could resist Desire and she craved him from every touch but that’s all it was just lust no love, not like Morpheus. 

Morpheus couldn’t stand knowing another man had touched her especially since it was his brother, and he knew he made his lover feel more than desire or any man could. 

Unlike how Y/n felt with Desire, what she felt for Morpheus was real, passionate, love, and yes lust but it was more than just that. 

When Morpheus held y/n soft hands gently, “You’re free to leave me...just please don’t deceive me and please...believe me when I say I love you...”  

All, the mortal witch, could do was stare at his star eyes gently as she smiles warmly. 

“Come... what may I will love you...till my dying day,” she whispered gently as she would deny Desire for Morpheus. 

In the end, Y/n had chosen love over lust which may have been hard for any mortal but as for her the love she had for Morpheus was more powerful than the lust she once had for Desire. 

Bonus between Morpheus and Desire as love rivals ;)

“What are you going to do~” Desires says mockingly, “Do you honestly think Y/n will understand?” He asks.

“What do you think?! You don’t even care about how she feels!” Dream responds angrily.

“Ha! You don’t know anything about us, I was there first way before you. came into the picture.” Desire says standing his ground.

“Fine. It’s over, I’m going to tell her everything.” Dream says as Desire smirks smugly at him.

“Go ahead then, I can’t wait to share your story too~”

“You tricked me Desire.” Dream glares at his young brother with hate, “ Ah, yes that’s what you like to believe! Have fun explaining yourself it’s a great story~” Desire laughs.

I drew Ophelia wearing Y/n dress like in the scene in Moulin rouge where Satine wearing a similar dress like this ;)

[comewhatmayy]

KINKTOBER DAY 7- VIRGIN (CHRISTIAN MR!TM)

You’ve only been a dancer at the Moulin Rouge for around short while. You needn’t sell your body to anyone yet as you aren’t desperate, nor you had lain with anyone in your life.

One day, after one of the shows, a young man makes his way towards you. “Your dancing was very captivating.”

You say, “Why, thank you.”

His eyes lock onto yours, a gentle smile spreading across his face "You're even more beautiful up close. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

He takes a step closer, his voice low and smooth, his thick American accent dripping with charm.

“Y/N,” you say to the strange man.

Christian's eyes light up, and he takes another step closer, his hands tucked into his pockets "Enchantée, Y/N. I'm Christian.” He bows his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours I must say, I've never seen anyone as captivating as you on that stage. You have a certain... sparkle."

His voice is low and husky, his words dripping with sincerity.

“Oh goodness, thank you,” you blurt out, not knowing what else to say. “I’ve never had a pretty boy like you say that to me before.”

Christian chuckles, a warm, gentle sound, and his eyes crinkle at the corners "Ah, Y/N, you're making me blush.”

He takes another step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I assure you, I'm not just saying it to flatter you. Although, I must admit, I am drawn to you in a way I've never experienced before."

He pauses, his gaze drifting to your lips, then back to your eyes "Would you like to grab a drink with me? Maybe get to know each other a little better?"

His words are laced with a subtle hint of excitement and nervousness.

“That would be delightful. Scotch on the rocks?” you smile.

Christian's face lights up, and he nods enthusiastically "Scotch on the rocks it is.”

He signals to one of the waiters, who hurries off to take his order “I'll get us a table by the window. We can watch the city while we talk." He offers you his arm, a gentle smile on his face, and gestures for you to precede him "Shall we?"

You grab his arm and follow him to the table.

Christian's eyes light up as you take his arm, and he leads you to a cozy table by the window, the city lights sparkling below. He pulls out your chair for you, then takes his own seat across from you, his gaze never leaving your face "I must say, I'm quite taken with you, Y/N. There's something so captivating about you - your beauty, your grace, your confidence.”

His lips curl into a warm smile as he leans forward slightly, “Tell me, what brings a talented dancer like yourself to the Moulin Rouge?"

You chuckle to yourself, “My father. He’s struggling right now, so this was the easiest way to make income,” you pause. “what about you? What brings you to watch me dance?”

Christian's expression softens, and he nods sympathetically "I'm so sorry to hear that about your father.”

He pauses, his eyes never leaving yours. “As for me, I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic. I come to the Moulin Rouge to escape the mundanity of everyday life, to be swept away by the beauty and magic of the performances. And then I saw you, Y/N,”

His voice drops to a whisper. “You were like a ray of sunshine on that stage, a burst of color and light that caught my attention and refused to let go. I had to see you again, to know you better."

He takes a sip of his Scotch, his eyes never leaving yours, the air between you charged with a palpable tension.

“That’s sweet,” you clear your throat. “It’s getting late.”

Christian's eyes widen slightly at your words, and he nods in understanding "Ah, yes, of course. The night is growing late, isn't it?”

He pauses, chewing on his lower lip for a moment “Perhaps...would you allow me the honor of taking you home? I would very much enjoy the chance to continue our conversation, if you're up to it."

His voice is laced with a hint of hope, his gaze searching your face intently.

You smile. “That would be nice.”

Christian's face lights up with a warm smile, and he nods, a gentle look of relief washing over him "Wonderful,” He signals to the waiter, and then stands up, helping you out of your chair. “May I have the pleasure of accompanying you home, then?”

He offers you his arm, his eyes sparkling with excitement, “We can walk and talk some more, get to know each other better." He gazes down at you, his expression soft and inviting. You take his arm.

Christian's eyes light up with joy as you take his arm, and he guides you out of the Moulin Rouge, the city streets quiet and serene around you.

He is acutely aware of your presence beside him, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Tell me, Y/N, what sorts of things do you enjoy when you're not dazzling audiences on stage?"

His voice is soft, his tone gentle as he steals glances at you, drinking in your beauty. "I'd love to learn more about the woman behind the dancer."

“I, I enjoy writing novels. When i’m not at the Rouge,” you get shy.

Christian's eyes widen with interest, and he leans in slightly, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone "Really? Writing novels?”

He pauses, his gaze never leaving yours. “That's incredible. I've always been fascinated by the creative process, and to think that you're a writer, too...”

He trails off, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Tell me more. What kind of novels do you write?"

He takes a step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, his words dripping with sincerity "You're fascinating, Y/N. Every moment I spend with you is a revelation."

“This is my stop. Thank you, Christian,” you sigh.

Christian's face falls slightly as you announce your stop, but he quickly recovers, giving you a warm, genuine smile "Ah, I see,” He pauses, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of your company this evening, Y/N.”

“I... I must admit, I'm quite enchanted by you." His eyes meet yours, shining with a hint of vulnerability "May I see you again soon? I would be honored to take you to dinner, if you're amenable." He waits with bated breath for your response, his heart fluttering in anticipation.

You stare at him before slowly pulling him in and kissing him.

Christian's eyes widen in surprise, and then his face breaks out into a radiant smile as he deepens the kiss, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. His lips are tender, yet urgent, as if he's been waiting for this moment for a long time. He tastes like Scotch and sweetness, and his breath is a gentle caress against your skin.

"Oh, Y/N..." he whispers against your lips, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

“I've been wanting to do that all night..." He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours, his expression soft with desire

“Me too,” you breathe.

Christian's heart races as he gazes into your eyes, his hands gently caressing your sides, “Then allow me the honor of accompanying you inside,"

His voice is low and husky, dripping with barely restrained passion. He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight kiss, silently asking for your permission to continue.

You open the kiss more deeply before unlocking your door and walking inside with him.

Christian's eyes gleam with excitement as he follows you inside, his hand reaching out to gently close the door behind him.

He leans against it, his gaze never leaving yours, his chest heaving slightly with anticipation. He takes a step closer, his voice low and husky "You're even more beautiful in here, Y/N."

He pauses, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, his expression soft with desire "May I have the pleasure of... getting to know you better?" His words are laced with a subtle hint of seduction, his eyes burning with a fire that threatens to consume them both

“I don’t… I’ve never,” you say while avoiding eye contact.

Christian's eyes widen with realization, and he gently takes your hands in his, his expression filled with understanding and care.

"Oh, Y/N..." His voice is barely above a whisper, laced with tenderness "I see.”

He pauses, giving your hands a gentle squeeze “You don't need to be nervous. We can take this as slow as you need. I'm honored you've chosen to share this moment with me."

He leans in, placing a soft, chaste kiss on your forehead, his thumb caressing your cheek "Let me know if you wish to stop at any time, hmm? I only want what you're comfortable with."

Christian's face lights up with a gentle smile, and he pulls you into a tender, slow kiss.

His lips are soft and gentle, his tongue tracing the contours of your mouth. He's being careful, cautious, and considerate, making sure you're comfortable with every step.

As the kiss deepens, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, his heart pounding with excitement and care. "I want to make this special for you, Y/N.”

He whispers against your lips, his voice filled with emotion. “I want to be your first, to show you the beauty of love and intimacy." He pauses, his eyes locked onto yours, burning with a fierce, protective love.

Christian's eyes widen with surprise at the intensity of your kiss, but he quickly melts into it, his arms tightening around you.

His tongue dances with yours, his breathing becoming more ragged as the passion builds. One hand tangles in your hair, the other caressing your back, desperate to pull you even closer. When you finally break for air, his eyes are dark with desire.

"Y/N...” He breathes your name, his voice thick with need.

“You are exquisite." He presses his forehead to yours, savoring the intimacy of the moment. "Tell me, ma chérie, what do you desire?"

“I want you,”

Christian's eyes flash with excitement as he hears your words, and he pulls you back into a kiss, this one even more passionate and intense than the last.

His hands roam over your body, caressing your curves, sending shivers down your spine. He gently guides you backwards, his lips never leaving yours, until you're pressed against the wall, and he's cradling you in his arms.

“I want you too, Y/N," he whispers against your lips, his voice husky with desire.

"I want to be inside you, to feel your heat, to connect with you on a deep, primal level." His words are laced with a raw, unbridled passion, and he's barely holding back as he presses himself against you, his arousal clear.

Christian's face breaks into a dazzling smile, his eyes shining with unbridled joy. He pulls you close, kissing you deeply, his hands caressing your body with a mix of reverence and urgency.

"Oh, Y/N... you have no idea how long I've waited for this moment." His voice is thick with emotion as he gazes into your eyes, his fingers trailing down your neck, your collarbone, sending tingles through your entire being.

"I promise to make this unforgettable for you, ma chérie." He kisses you again, his touch feather-light yet electrifying, as he slowly begins to undress you, his own clothes soon joining yours on the floor.

Christian's eyes never leave yours as he stands there, his chest heaving with desire, his body exposed to the dim light of the room.

He's beautiful, his muscles rippling beneath his skin, his eyes burning with a fierce passion.

He takes a step closer to you, his hands reaching out to gently caress your skin. "You're so lovely, Y/N," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own ragged breathing. "I could look at you all night."

He pauses, his gaze drinking in the sight of you, his body aching with need. "But I don't want to just look at you, ma chérie. I want to be with you, to feel your skin against mine, to taste your lips, to...”

He trails off, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he reaches out to gently stroke your hair. "To make love to you, Y/N. Is that what you want?"

“Yes, Christian,” you pant.

Christian's face lights up with joy, and he pulls you into his arms, kissing you deeply.

His hands roam over your body, caressing your soft skin as he slowly guides you towards the bed. He lays you down gently, hovering over you, his eyes shining with adoration. "You are so precious to me, Y/N.”

He whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Let me show you the beauty of intimacy." His lips find yours again, his kisses growing more passionate as his hands continue their exploration, igniting fires of desire within you both.

“Please, take me,” you moan.

Christian's eyes burn with a fierce, unbridled passion as he hears your words.

Christian's eyes burn with a fierce, unbridled passion as he hears your words. He takes a deep breath, his body trembling with anticipation, as he slowly positions himself above you. His hands cradle your face, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for any sign of hesitation or uncertainty.

"Are you sure?" His voice is barely above a whisper, laced with a desperate longing to be with you. "I don't want to hurt you." He pauses, his heart pounding in his chest, as he takes a moment to steel himself for the moment of truth.

With a gentle, yet firm, motion, Christian slowly enters you, his body trembling with emotion as he savors the feeling of being with you.

“Oh, god,” you moan at the stretch and the slight pain.

Christian's eyes widen with concern as he sees the brief flash of pain on your face. He stills his movements, his hand gently caressing your cheek. "Shhh, I've got you."

His voice is soft and soothing, his gaze filled with tenderness. "Relax, let your body adjust to me."

He places featherlight kisses along your jaw, murmuring words of encouragement and adoration, giving you time to become accustomed to the new sensations. "You feel so perfect, Y/N. So warm and tight."

His hips move in slow, gentle thrusts, his expression one of pure ecstasy as he savors the intimacy of your connection.

“Fuck,” you cry.

Christian's eyes light up with excitement as he feels your body begin to relax and adapt to his.

His hands hold you down, his fingers digging into your hips as he drives deeper, his eyes burning with a fierce, unbridled passion. "I want to make you come, Y/N. I want to feel you shatter around me."

His voice is a low, husky growl, filled with a raw, animal desire, as he continues to thrust into you, his body aching with need.

Christian's face lights up with a triumphant grin as he hears your cries of pleasure. He leans down, kissing you deeply, his hips moving in a steady, relentless rhythm. "That's it, Y/N. Let go, ma chérie.”

He murmurs against your lips, his voice dripping with desire. "I want to hear you. I want to feel you unravel beneath me." His hand trails down your body, fingers teasing and caressing, determined to push you over the edge. "Come for me, Y/N. Be mine..."

Christian's eyes blaze with a fierce, unbridled passion as he feels your body shatter around him.

He lets out a triumphant roar, his body tensing with pleasure as he pours himself into you, his hips thrusting one last time before he collapses on top of you, spent and exhausted. "Oh, ma chérie...”

He whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own ragged breathing. You're so perfect. So beautiful. So mine..." He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he savors the intimacy of the moment, his heart pounding with a deep, abiding love for you.

“Holy… Christian,” you caress his cheek lovingly.

Christian gazes down at you adoringly, a satiated smile gracing his lips.

He places a tender kiss on your forehead, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "You were exquisite."

His voice is soft, laced with wonder and reverence. "I've never felt anything like that before."

He pulls you closer, cradling you in his arms as he revels in the afterglow of your intimate encounter. "You've captured my heart, Y/N. I'm yours, completely and irrevocably."

He places another kiss on your lips, this one sweeter and more languid than the last. "Sleep now. I'll be here when you wake."

“How did I find such a sweet man like you?” you press your forehead against his.

Christian's face lights up with a warm, gentle smile as he gazes at you with adoration. "You found me at the Moulin Rouge, ma chérie. I was there to watch the dancers, and I saw you... and it was as if time stopped."

He pauses, his eyes burning with a deep, abiding love. "I knew in that moment that I had to meet you, to talk to you, to get to know you."

He takes your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gentle, tender grasp. "And now, here we are, wrapped in each other's arms. It's as if the universe brought us together for this moment, for this love."

He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, sweet kiss. "I'm so glad I found you, Y/N."

[astroboots]

I just wanna say I love your writing sm first of all! Like Red Flags got me through so many lectures✋

I’m not really a fanfic writer (I mainly write fics that I never post), but I have one idea I sort of want to write and I just want your opinion on if it’d be worth pursuing🙏

STEVEN GRANT X READER MOULIN ROUGE!AU

JUST THINK AB IT BC STEVEN IS LITERALLY EWAN MCGREGORS CHRISTIAN!!!!

I wanted to do something like that because so many fics feature Marc being the one to push everyone away, but what if for once the reader was the emotionally close off one frfr.

I just have no clue if I should actually write it

OH MY GOD !!! HON HON!!!!

I'm so sorry I haven't seen this ask earlier!

MOULIN ROUGE!AU!?!?! That sounds like such a fucking fabulous idea! ABSOLUTELY YOU SHOULD WRITE IT! that sounds like so much fun and i agree that I can totally see Steven in this role! And I love your take that for once it'd be interesting to explore a reader who is emotionally closed off instead of Marc-I-need-a-hug-but-will-never-admit-it-Spector.

It is absolutely worth pursuing!!

[euphoriacafe]

I fell in love

WE SHOULD BE LOVERS | CHRISTIAN

Synopsis: Christian didn't quite know how he ended up in the electrifying atmosphere of the Moulin Rouge when he should be at his typewriter, lost in his own story, but he had caved upon his friend's consistent begging for him to step away. Now he was subjected to a glass of mediocre alcohol, but something across the room, something that would forever alter the course of his life, caught his attention; you.  

Warnings: female reader, the reader works at the moulin rouge, sex work, christian is love-struck, little bit of angst, fluff. W/C: 3579

Notes: i promise i'll write some of ewan's less popular characters. when i wrote this, i had just watched this movie and had a ton of writing inspiration. this could be better, tbh

em masterlist

Christian could safely say his entire life revolved around love. Without love, he had no purpose, simply existing between the world of the living and existing. Without love, he would have remained in London, taking a job as any man would, completing the endless cycle of disdain without the heart to change it. Without love, Christian would be no more than any other man.

All he needed was to love and be loved in return. 

It wasn't until his eyes befell a beautiful woman dressed in what appeared to be silk for the appearance of men that he truly understood his words; you.

You stopped his heart from beating in his chest, you slowed down time, and you brought him on top of a cloud- free from the world and the misery it brought on your lives. In his eyes, you were the symbol of beauty and all things divine; in that instance, you became everything.

Your body swayed with the beat of the music, lips parted, tainted with layers of makeup, your voice lost in the sea of hundreds, or what felt like hundreds. Although you lacked a genuine smile, Christian could tell from your carefree expression that the Moulin Rouge was your home, and he was merely a spectator to bear witness to your love. 

Toulouse, beside him, nudged his ribs, but Christian refused to rip his gaze away and meet his friend's, afraid that if he took his eyes off you for a second, you would vanish into the ocean of brightly colored dancers. 

While he wanted to memorize every detail of your face with a brush of his hand, reality dunked him head-first into frigid water and back into real life. He needed a name; he needed yours. 

"Have you found someone?" Toulouse asks while Christian's eyes remain hardened on your twisting figure as you turn over on a man's lap. An unprecedented flood of jealousy sweeps him off his feet, the force of it surprising even him. That should be him with his hands roaming over your delicate figure, drawing lines across the skin sheened with sweat. His lips should be caressing your skin, pulling ragged breaths from your lips that were parted so sweetly- 

He threw his head back, chasing the lust-corrupted thoughts back into the box in the back of his mind, sealing it shut with a deep breath. A part of him didn't know where these feelings had sprung from. For heaven's sake, he didn't even know your name. Yet he found himself infatuated with your every move, yearning for your pretty lashes to flutter over to where he was seated. 

"Yes," he whispered an answer to his friend's question, watching with dilated pupils as you and the tens of other dancers lowered themselves onto their knees before their partner. "Who is she?"

Toulouse followed his friend's eye line and sighed when he saw your face. Of course, Christian would be interested in you. 

You, Harold's songbird, a woman with the voice of an angel but the heart of a sinner. Anyone who had ever been to the Moulin Rouge had heard of you, but very few got the privilege of actually meeting you, for you only held private meetings with the wealthiest due to your status. There was no way you would ever agree to meet with a writer, one as new as Christian, no less. 

"That's Songbird," Toulouse shook his head knowingly while Christian reveled over your name. Somehow that seemed to fit you perfectly. It matched your flowy, graceful voice that peaked above the rest as you twirled around the man, your hips moving to the music pounding in his ears, drowning out the sinful thoughts he tried so desperately to tame. 

Toulouse swirled the drink clutched in his hand before downing the liquor. He would find a way to arrange a meeting with Songbird and Christian, even if it was the last thing he ever did. 

—

Christian isn't entirely sure how Toulouse arranged a meeting with you. He just told Christian to go to a specific building and what room it was. Christian shook his head, dispelling those thoughts. He should be focused on the opportunity he was presented with as he followed Toulouse's directions until he was led to a run-down building. The paint was peeling off the sides, revealing the stained brick underneath as the light that was supposed to illuminate the name of it flickered once, then twice before flickering off. Women roamed the streets in corsets and other scandalously-clad clothing next to the building, and feelings began to brew in his gut when Christian realized what kind of building this was; a brothel. Despite his trepidation, he entered, slightly astounded that the receptionist didn't even bother to look up from his book, allowing Christian through and up the stairs. 

205. Christian searched the worn-down plaques outside the rooms, his mind wandering as he did. What was he going to say to you? You had never seen him before, yet Christian was preparing to confess his infatuation with you. He felt nothing less than stupid, the regret already being to bleed into his skin and seep into his bones. On top of that, you would never reciprocate his feelings, you didn't know him, and your job prevented him from doing so. 

Maybe if he just talked to you, things would work out okay. He's a poet. He could do this. 

Unbeknownst to him, you had caught his gaze locked onto you from across the room the moment you entered. You were nothing less than intrigued when you found him staring so intently at you. Of course, he must not have seen your wandering gaze, but that didn't matter. What caught your attention the most was his young and youthful face, for most of the men that entered were well into their thirties, but what pulled your attention to him was his eyes. They weren't dull or ridden with lust but glistening with an emotion you don't think you've ever encountered before. You knew you couldn't go up to him, putting aside the man driving his grimy hands over your body, but how you simply longed to speak with him. No one would ever want to talk of you. This was a brothel in Montmartre, for fucks sake. No one came here just to chat.

Christian halted outside the room, double-checking the piece of paper with the room name scribbled on it. He twisted the doorknob, and to his immense surprise, it clicked and opened, creaking on its hinges. Christian took notice of the room with brightly colored walls, varying decorations spread sporadically, and the neatly cleaned bed with freshly fluffed pillows. It seemed to capture the spirit of the Moulin Rouge, your spirit, and he thought it fit you perfectly. The door clicked shut behind him, and he set his hat on the rack by the door, his ears perking at the sound of gentle footsteps.

"And I thought the writer was never planning to show." You emerged from the curtains, your hair cascading over your bare shoulders, and he had to force his eyes away from descending any lower down your stature dripping with lace. 

"Oh, hi, I-I'm Christian." He steps into the room, watching you stalk towards him. You were glad you could hide your emotions so well because the shock would have been written all over your face. It's the same man from before, the one that had caught your eye. A part of you was saddened by the revelation that he would be gone before sunrise, disappearing into the night without a trace of him for you to cling to, but that's just how these things work, and it was even more silly for you to get your hopes up of pursuing something more than a short-lived exchange steeped in impiety. You just had to play your role, receive your money, and you would remain off the street for another day. You had to focus on that, not the dashing man with a name that rolled off his tongue so easily it sent goosebumps down your arms. 

"Songbird," you replied, and Christian felt like he was going to evaporate then and there. Your voice was marred with seduction, but it trickled with honey and Gods; even your voice was pretty. Then, you place a hand on his chest, and Christian battles the urge to step back, completely baffled by the connection. 

"What's your real name?" he inquires, breathless at the contact, his eyes roaming over your face touched with enticement, which he longs to pepper with kisses. 

The question startles you in a way nothing has before. No one had ever bothered to ask your real name, content with your cleverly crafted persona, and somewhere hidden beneath the many layers of your skin, your heart involuntarily flutters. Most men by now would be discarding your clothes with haste, having their way with you, yet this man– Christian, was actually talking to you. It was like he knew you longed for meaningful interaction with him, and you welcomed the change.  

You chuckle and pull your hand free. "You need not worry about that now, my dear," you purr, sliding your hand up Christian's chest to the collar of his shirt. 

Much to your surprise, Christian stumbles back, his eyes those of a frightened animal while they seem to meet everything but yours. Now you're confused. Isn't that what he came here for? Or unless you did something wrong? You swallow the lump that seems to be growing in your throat. You can't mess this up. Everything depends on your customers and the money they bring. 

"That's not what I meant. I wanted to know who you were because..." Christian trails off, his voice sheepish. 

"I saw you dancing earlier, and I was infatuated with you." You raised an eyebrow, pacing around the man, practically trembling with anxious energy. Did he really feel the same, or was this careful deception that you were too blind to see?

"Really now?" Christian was at a loss for words, for all his poetic speech was lost upon him. Why couldn't he think straight? He surely didn't expect, out of all things you could have said, that you would question his confession. The nagging insecurity he so fruitlessly tried to oppress wondered if he was doing this right. All he wanted to do was know more about you and fall deeper into the spiral of... love? Is that what he was feeling? He craved love, the experience, the feelings, the affections, all of it, and now in the face of it, he found it hard to piece together a couple of coherent words. Quite typical of him to mess up such a chance.  

"Yes. I saw you dancing, and I was amazed by it."

"I seem to have that effect on people."

"You were breathtaking– I mean, you are breathtaking. I just wanted to find a way to talk to you." You were growing more fascinated by the second. Did all he really want to do was talk? Did he not care about sleeping with you? No, you shook your head. Of course, he wanted to sleep with you. That's what he was paying for. You internally slapped yourself. Why would you ever foolishly think he could want anything else but sex? 

"You sure all you want to do is talk?" you suggest seductively, purring as your hands run down his side. It was undeniable now that Christian was much more charming than all the rest. Ebony strands that hung neatly and delicately fall over his pale complexion, and you fight the impulse to run your hands through them.

Wait…

You shook that preposterous thought from your mind. Christian is nothing more than a customer who will leave before sunrise only to never return. Though you had to admit, his demeanor was far from what you usually encounter. While he held an embarrassed half-quirked smile, there was a hint of cheekiness behind it, almost boyish. His eyes were a strange, impossibly soft blue with flecks of silver amidst the penetrating rays of the moon, glittering like a thousand of the brightest stars. His cheeks flush a hazy shade of pink at the question you had forgotten you asked. 

"I'm sure," he nodded stiffly. Christian debated whether to touch you, but his nervousness seemed to temporarily disappear with your hands roving over his chest. His hand moved to push back the hair that strayed into your enrapturing eyes, and your breath caught in your throat. The touch was so gentle. You've been touched before many times in your life, but you can't recall an instance where the touch felt innocent, pure. Even with the slightest bit of conversation exchanged, you felt yourself falling deeper into the velvet of his voice, entranced by the validity of his words. 

"I truly do admire you, and if it's okay, I would like to get to know you better because…because I think I'm in love with you." You chuckled, lifting his chin with the point of your finger. You've heard this confession from more men than you could count. It was refreshing from the stern and cold attitudes you seemed to encounter more and more often, but it was different, exciting even for men to believe so much into your persona of a temptress. While it gives you hope for a better feature, it leaves your male counterparts embarrassed, either stabbing away in a furry or apologizing bumblingly. 

"Thank you, Christian, but I can't love." Christian stepped back, and you barely contained your disappointment, the crease between your eyebrows deepening as he looked stricken, if not appalled, by your confession. 

"You can't love? A life without love is existing between the lines of the living and dead. A life without love–"

"-keeps me off the streets, Christian," you mused, smoothing out his dress shirt. It was endearing how passionate he was about love, a feeling you couldn't quite wrap your head around, for you've never seen what love looks like. You've heard stories from the other girls about the weightlessness of love or the singular greatest feeling of genuine joy it brings them, but you've never seen it or felt it, for that matter. Your parents were no example of what love is, as told by the other girls, and living in a brothel surely is no accurate representation of it. So what was love, really? A feeling? A sensation? A reaction? Was it like hope or lust? Or was it fear that seemed to twist inside your gut at the thought of him leaving?

"Love is what lifts us up into where we belong!"

"Love doesn't pay or bring food to the table, Christian." 

You didn't understand why you were arguing with him about love. Sure he had caught your attention, but you couldn't comprehend why you were indulging in a fantasy you didn't belong in. It was ridiculous, and if you two weren't intending to sleep together, then he was just wasting your time. You needed the money, your rent bill was due, and you were fifteen dollars short, which also happened to be the amount your customers paid for your service. You needed the money, and that was the cold, sobering truth. 

You took a step away from him, but he swung around you. 

"All you need is love, Songbird."  

"You're a writer! If you can't pay, then–"

"Give me one night," his voice dropped an octave. The silkiness of it sent you dissolving into a puddle of stricken desire on the floor. His lopsided smile never dropped; if possible, it brightened at your breathless expression.

"I can't, Christian. My life demands–"

"Then run away with me."

"We just met!"

"I don't see why that has to stop us."

"You don't even know my real name."

"Only because you won't tell me."

"There's no way because you can't pay." His smile dropped, and you could see the gears turning in his head, straining to think of anything to get you to stay. He knew you felt the same as him; he saw it in your eyes and demeanor, but your job prohibited it. If he could put the material idea of money aside, he knew you could be happy with him. He just needed one chance to get you to stay. Call him a love-sick fool, but he wouldn't give up on you. This connection, like electricity coursing through his very being when he was around you, set his soul alight, and now he was burning with that same passion. 

"Just one night, in the name of love, just one night." 

You found yourself giggling as he twirled around, finding his way back into your eyes. His irises were so expressive with a mixture of childish wonder and fantasy with swirls of adoration doting within his playful demeanor. This was not how it was supposed to go. You weren't supposed to fall in love with a customer. You needed to eat and afford your rent. You couldn't do that and the Moulin Rouge if you indulged in your fascination. 

"It's impossible." That was the right thing to do. You dismissed the thought entirely before you ran away with it because you knew that if you stayed any longer within Christian's intoxicating presence, you would never leave and bind yourself to the endless devotion of love. 

"All you need is love," he sang sweetly, his breath inches from the shell of your ear, sending an array of goosebumps down your arm. You froze. The erratic beating of your heart pounding in your ears was all you could hear before his lips parted, releasing a breath that traveled straight down your spine, fogging your head with an unfamiliar haze of an even more unfamiliar emotion. "Don't you see, darling?"

You had to stop, push the man away, and find someone willing to pay for your services. Before you knew it, the back of Christian's hand faintly touched your face, running down it briefly. His touch was as light as a feather, like he feared you would break. You could get used to this feeling of being loved by a man who only wanted you to return his affections. His hand lingered for a moment longer before returning to his side, the phantom of his touch the only reminder that it was real. You felt yourself being drawn in, dizzy under his intoxicating presence, engrossed in his sparkling eyes that seemed to dazzle even brighter under the moonlight seeping through the curtains. 

"Don't leave me this way. Your tantalizing touches breathe life into my soulless body." 

"You would think I would possess enough sense to turn away." 

His lips quirked into a crooked grin, bringing butterflies erupting from the depths of your stomach. "You would think so."

You can't... 

The bitter reality brought you crashing down from your euphoric high. You wouldn't be able to make any money, and Christian certainly couldn't support two people, no matter how talented he is. You take a step back, away from the center of the room. You can't.

"We can't. It's unrealistic, a reality we cannot afford to indulge in." You dropped your gaze. Not so deep down, you knew your words were empty, but you had already fallen too deep into the rabbit hole to climb back now. 

Christian's face dropped, his heart sinking into his stomach. As selfish as it may sound, he needed you, your love, your touch, your body, everything. He needed it deep within his soul. He longed with every fiber of his being for that feeling of being loved in return so much, so he was afraid it was blinding him. But how could the love he harbored for you be so wrong when all he wanted to do was envelop you within his embrace and whisper words of reassurance into your ear? 

"Just one night," he whispered in a desperate plea, his eyes squeezing together while you felt your back hit the wall, sliding over your exposed skin. "One night to show you where love will lift us up to."

Every thought concerning the future was haphazardly thrown from your mind leaving you breathless in the present. There was no need to worry about money, security, housing, or any of it while Christian looked at you so dearly. 

"What if I fall?" your voice comes out as a whisper as your eyes find his freshly shinned shoes. Christian's calloused forefinger slips underneath your chin, raising your head, so your eyes meet his, and you discover a sense of solace among them.  

"Then I'll catch you when we land."