#as you can maybe tell from the notes i guess

[jaeyunnz]

"Work Break Seduction."

ni-ki + f¡reader — ♡ 18+

WARNINGS — dom!ni-ki, sub¡reader, dirty talk, making out, cussing, rough sex, riki eats out reader, unprotected sex (stay safe dont do it.) pet names.

both characters are of age. (20+) not proofread, sorry if theres any errors. this is quite long but worth the read i promise!

Reader recently went into a new college and grew a school crush on Riki. Though he plays hard to get, your able to break his nonchalant demeanour.

Note : Riki was mostly requested, so enjoy. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Your parents recently moved to a different town, which meant transferring to a new college. It wasn’t as bad as you expected, though you didn’t really know anyone there—but that was fine. At least your childhood friend, Jess, was with you.

A few weeks passed, and you found yourself constantly drawn to a boy—Riki. Girls flocked to him, yet he always brushed them off or rejected their advances. No one seemed to know much about him. He was distant, only ever seen around small groups. But that only made him more intriguing. The mystery surrounding him pulled you in, making you want to learn more about him.

The problem? He avoided everyone—including you. The only times you ever spoke were during school projects, and even then, the conversations were brief or short talk.

This morning, once again, you found yourself paired with Riki. It didn’t bother you as much, but you could tell he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “Alright, your partners have been chosen. Get to work, project’s due in two days,” the teacher announced. You scanned the room for Riki, and then your eyes landed on him. He was leaning back in his chair, his posture casual and almost lazy. You knew you had to make the first move and approach him, or he’d likely ignore you the entire time.

You hated that you always had to be the one to approach him—it made you feel almost desperate. Yet, here you were, getting up and walking toward him. He watched as you pulled out your chair and sat down beside him. “Hi,” you said, glancing at him for a brief moment. He responded with a small nod, his usual way of acknowledging you.

You settle into the seat, trying to ignore the awkwardness that always seemed to hang between you two. The silence stretched for a moment, neither of you making any effort to start the project. You glance at him, but he’s already looking at his phone, clearly disinterested. Then, you let out a soft sigh, wishing he’d at least pretend to care. Finally deciding to break the silence. “So, uh… how do you want to split this up?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

He shrugs without looking up. “You can do whatever,” he mutters. You bite back a small frustration. Damn, you knew he wasn’t one for much conversation, but it always felt like pulling teeth to get him to participate. Yet, there was something about his indifference that kept you intrigued, even if it was maddening. “I guess I’ll start with the research,” you say, hoping for a bit more input. He doesn’t respond, but you take that as your cue to begin.

The next hour passes in relative silence, except for the occasional rustling of papers and the tapping of his phone. You focus on your work, trying not to pay attention to how he barely acknowledges your presence. Though you’re starting to get irritated by how you’re doing all the work while he’s just sitting there—eyes glued to his phone, doing nothing at all, you can’t bring yourself to get truly mad. Not when he looks this… handsome.

Should you try to start another conversation, hoping he might actually respond? You really wanted to get to know him better, maybe even get him to show a little interest in you, too. Fuck it, might as well, you really like him. "Prom is coming soon, you going out with anyone?" Thats the first thing that came to mind, it was a bit personal, but your curious. Maybe you can shoot your shot?

He finally lifts his head up from his phone, placing it on the desk and locks eyecontact with you. "Nah. Not interested in that typa stuff." For the first time, he actually seemed engaged, and it left you a little thrown off balance. "Why not?" You say, he gives you a shrug. "Why are you asking anyway?" He raises an eyebrow, your slightly taken by surprise when he asks, trying to make yourself sound less interested. "I'm just trying to conversate with you, I mean your quiet as fuck."

He lets out a deep, small chuckle that sounds rich, causing you to snap your eyes at him. Shit, he's really talking to you? "Yeah, well you could've asked me anything," he taps the desk with his fingertips, "But that was apparently the first thing that came to mind?" He rests his arm over the head of the chair, scanning your body for a moment which causes a small faint redness appear on your cheeks. "A bit bold of you, I'll give you credit for that."

You slightly roll your eyes, "How was that bold? I simply asked if you had a prom date or not." He finally sits up straight in his seat, running his hand through his short black hair which catches your attention. "Really?" He chuckles a bit, looking around the classroom.

You raise your eyebrow in slight confusion before he meets your gaze again, "C'mon now. You don't think i've noticed you staring at me?" Your eyes widen, he leans in closer and suddenly your heart starts to pound unbelievably fast. "Every single time we have a class together, I see you." his cold fingertips trails up your thigh, "Your into me? Aren't you? I mean thats why you asked me such a question." Your body freezes, shivers running down your spine.

How the fuck did he know?

"Thats not..." unable to finish your sentence with his hand making contact with your thigh. "Not true?" He says, his hands creeping down to pull your chair closer to him, the both of your knees brushing against eachother. His eyes dart down to your lips, a teasing smirk appearing on his face. Before you can say anything, the bell rings, interrupting the intense moment.

"We can uhm... finish this project later?" He leans back against his chair, acting totally careless about what just happened between you two. "Meet me at lunch." Is all he says before leaving the room. You know your face is beet red, but you dont even wanna see how you look right now. So then you start putting away the paper work into your bag, packing your stuff as he leaves the room, not looking back at you once. For a moment you just stand in the now empty class with a blank mind, trying to process everything that happened.

At lunch, you find yourself sitting at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria, just as he asked. Your heart races a little, unsure of what to expect. You glance around, half-expecting him to bail, but then you spot him walking toward you, looking as casual as ever.

"Hey," Riki says, sliding into the seat across from you. His eyes briefly meet yours before he looks down at the table. "Hi," you reply, trying to sound casual even though your nerves are on edge. There’s a moment of silence between you two, the kind that always seemed to stretch on forever. You want to fill it with something, but words feel like they’re just out of reach.

Finally, he speaks again. "So, what’s your deal?" You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?” He shrugs, eyes flicking up to meet yours for a split second before looking away again. "Like, why are you always tryna talk to me. You barely know me." His bluntness takes you by surprise, but somehow it doesn’t feel as cold as you thought it would. It’s almost… honest.

You take a deep breath. "I don’t know. You’re just different, you know? It’s hard to ignore." He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "I'll take that as a compliment I guess."

"I mean yeah, like you’re this whole mystery. I just want to figure you out." For a second, he looks like he’s about to say something, but instead, he leans back in his seat, his gaze lingering on you a little longer. You feel like he’s reading you, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s trying to figure you out too. Then, without warning, he leans forward, closing the space between you. His hand brushes against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"Well," he says, voice low, "maybe you’ll find out soon." Before you can process what’s happening, his lips are on yours. It’s sudden, soft at first, but the intensity quickly builds, and everything else fades away. The warmth of his mouth against yours leaves you breathless, and for a moment, everything feels completely different, like this is where you’re supposed to be.

When he pulls away, you’re left dazed, trying to catch your breath. He looks at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s a hint of something—something you can’t quite place. "You okay?" he asks, his voice a little rough. You nod, still in shock, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. I think I’m more than okay." You bite your lower lip slightly, blushing profusely.

You both sit there for a moment, the air thick with tension and a thousand unspoken words. Your heart is still racing, but now, it's not from nerves. It's from the overwhelming feeling that something has shifted between you two. He doesn't move away, instead, his eyes search yours, almost like he's waiting for something.

Your mind is swirling, but your body seems to take over, leaning in closer, lips barely brushing against his. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his presence pulling you in with a force you can't resist. Without thinking, you kiss him again— this time deeper, more urgent. His hand finds its way to your cheek, his thumb gently grazing the skin as he pulls you in, his other hand sliding to your waist. Your heart hammers in your chest as he kisses you back with a hunger you didn't expect.

It's nothing like the first kiss-this one is raw, a mix of desire and need. You feel his fingers trace the line of your jaw, his touch almost desperate, and it sends a rush of heat through you. Your hands instinctively find his shirt, tugging him closer, as if you can't get enough of him.

His lips move with yours, more demanding now, and you match his intensity, breathless and wanting more. You can't explain it, but everything about him feels right-how he holds you, how his lips mold against yours, like this was always meant to happen. His hand slides down your back, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the heat building between you two. The kiss deepens, and everything else disappears-there's only him, only this moment.

When Riki pulls away, both of you are panting, eyes locked, faces inches apart. "You sure about this?" he asks, his voice husky. You nod, trusting your voice.

You're sure. You want this. You want him.

Without saying another word, he tilts his head toward a washroom near by the cafeteria. Afterall you both can't do anything with people around, so that was the only option. You get up, your heart beating even faster as he follows behind you. He pushes you into one of the stalls, locking it behind you.

He slowly turns around, pushing your back against the wall and his lips are on yours again, and this time, it feels like the beginning of something that neither of you can pull away from. The kiss continues, deepening with each passing second. His hands move, exploring, pulling you closer as if he can't get enough of you either. The way he holds you makes everything else fade into the background-the noise of the cafeteria, the people walking by the washroom, it all feels distant and irrelevant.

You feel his breath against your lips, a slight tremor in his touch as his fingers trace the curve of your back. Your own hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the strands as you pull him in even closer, wanting more of him. You can taste the faint trace of mint on his breath, and it only makes you crave him more.

Riki slowly pulls away from the kiss, the both of you breathless. Finally his hand slides down your thigh, inching under your skirt. "Can I?" He grunts out as you nod at him almost instantly. "Starting to think you've wanted this for a while now," he chuckles, slipping his hands underneath your skirt and groping your ass, a small moan escaping your lips. "S-shut up will you?" He smirks, his lips trail down, leaving wet kisses down your neck. 

You press your lips tightly together, glaring at him playfully. You can't help but feel a surge of need. It's like you're both fighting the same battle, giving in to something that's been building up for weeks. Suddenly you find your hand guiding his further up your skirt.

Riki doesn't hesitate, immediately shoving your hand aside and tearing your panties apart with his hands. He gets down on his knees and buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking at your dripping folds without warning like a starved man. Your eyes roll back to the back of your head, looking down at him in slight surprise. "Fuck, you're so wet." He growls against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs.

He groans as he feels your fingers gripping his hair tighter, your delicious moans spurring him on. He alternates between long, teasing licks and quick flicks against your clit, savoring your sweet taste. His hands squeeze your ass, pulling you harder against his face. "F...fuck ah mmph.." Your back arches against the wall, clawing at it slightly as you try to keep quiet, not wanting anyone to hear.

He hooks his arms around your legs and throws them over his shoulders, opening you up even wider. He laps his tongue greedily around your clit, determined to make you come on his face before he allows himself to enter you. "Mmh." He groans against your pussy, your body shaking slightly from the vibration. "A-ah Riki..." The stall gets filled up with slurping sounds along with your quiet desperate moans.

He slightly pulls back, looking up at you with half closed eyes. Your breathing heavily, sweat dripping down your forehead. "Riki or daddy?" He licks his lower lip slightly, smirking a bit as he sees your widened eyes. "I..I am not calling you that weirdo." He tilts his head back, "Hey hey, it was just a suggestion."

"I'll think... about it." You whisper embarrassed, turning a light shade of red when he lets out a quiet chuckle. "Thats my good girl." Your legs slightly tremble at the name, butterflies forming in your stomach before he spreads your legs wider, feasting on your pussy like it's his last meal. He growls against your cunt when you reach down to grip his hair. Your about to reach your climax and he knows it.

"I-I'm gonna-" you whine out, the sound echoes around the empty washroom. Riki snaps his mouth against your clit, sucking hard. "Come on my face, baby." His tongue laps up your juices, going fast and hard against your sensitive nub. "Give it to me." His words are more than enough for you to reach your high, finding yourself cumming all over his face, your thighs shaking violently while you try your hardest not to scream from the pleasure.

He feels your body convulse with your climax. He spreads your legs wider, pushing them back almost painfully, allowing him deeper access. His tongue goes wild, licking and sucking every last bit of your juice. He growls softly against your pussy before pulling back, licking your release off his lips. You suck in a moan, looking down at him.

Riki's cock is aching against his jeans, begging to be free. "P-please." He hears your soft beg. He unbuckles his belt slowly, eyes darkening. "Do you want my dick?" His voice is deep, seeing you slowly nod your head. He pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion, freeing his throbbing cock. He strokes himself slowly, letting you admire his impressive size. A droplet of precum pearls at the tip as he grunts. You stare intently, gulping at his length, "You're..."

He steps forward, turning you around and lifting your ass up, rubbing the head against your sensitive entrance. "Yeah? Think you can take it?" His voice is thick with desire as he pushes the tip just slightly inside you, a loud gasp escaping your mouth. "So far for being quiet." Riki says teasingly as you glare up at him playfully, swallowing hard. "I-I'm trying my hardest," He chuckles while pushing in slightly more, filling you with just the tip. "Am I too big?" He grunts, your hands going up to grip his shoulders tightly.

"I-I can take it.." you whimper out. "You sure?" He feeds you another inch, making you wince slightly. He watches your face closely. "Tsk, you're only halfway there." He pulls back slightly then pushes in another inch, hitting a new spot inside you which causes your mouth to open wide. "You really can take my whole dick? Don't wanna hurt you." His voice drops lower.

You just nod, desperation taking over you. "Good girl." He praises darkly, then grips your hips tightly and slams his hips forward, impaling you completely on his massive length. For a second, your vision gets blurry, the pleasure overwhelming. "Fuck!" He roars as he bottoms out inside you, gripping on your hips tightly. You let out a loud straining moan before hearing someone walk into the washroom.

The both of you freeze, and Riki doesn't move inside you just yet. Your slightly panicking but he doesn't seem to care because he begins to grind his hips slowly, letting you feel every inch of him. Your mouth opens wide, but he quickly covers it with his hand, leaning down and whispers against your ear, "That pussy just swallowed every inch of my cock like such a good girl." His hands grip your thighs roughly, pulling you open wider. You swallow hard, whimpering against his palm. "Shh, don't wanna get caught do you?"

Finally that person seems to leave — and Riki's hand leaves your mouth. His thick shaft drags in and out of your tight, soaked pussy at a brutal pace. Each thrust makes you wince and whimper, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He pounds into you relentlessly, the sound of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room. "F-fuck ah.. Riki-" You roll your eyes back, your mind becoming blank.

He can feel your gentle scratches against his back as he pounds into you, his hands tightening on your thighs. "Fuck, baby. This what you wanted? My dick destroying your insides?" You nod, opening your mouth to speak but words come out as moans instead. He pulls your hips further up to get deeper inside you. He leans forward, his mouth finding yours in a harsh, bruising kiss as he continues to rut into you.

He groans loudly into the kiss as he feels your pussy clench tightly around his throbbing shaft before breaking the kiss, panting heavily. "Shit, you're squeezing me so fucking tight." He adjusts his angle, deliberately targeting your G-spot with every powerful thrust.

Your trying to grip on the walls, but your fingers slip. "G-gonna cum..." His eyes darken with lust at your words, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. "Cum for me, baby. Milk my dick with that tight cunt." He reaches down and circles his thumb over your clit, applying pressure in time with his thrusts.

And with that, He feels your release bathe his length, making him groan loudly. Your pussy pulses around him tightly, almost painfully. He pumps into you erratically, losing his rhythm. He lowers his head and watches as your fluids coat his shaft, making it glide easily in and out of your body.

He pants heavily, finally unleashing his pent up load deep inside of your wet cunt. Your back arches against him as he does so, the both of you letting out loud moans from the feeling. Then he pulls out slowly, his cock glistening with your juices. "Fuck." He holds your waist and you tremble, putting your whole body weight on him since your struggling to stand.

The bathroom stall feels too small now, the air thick with the weight of what just happened. You’re both still breathing heavily, and there’s a quiet, almost uncomfortable stillness between you.

He leans back against the wall, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to process everything. You do the same, your mind racing a little. It’s strange how quickly things shifted, how in the span of just a few minutes, everything between you changed. You glance over at him. He’s still looking at you, his eyes soft, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re both just sitting there in the aftermath, unsure of what to say next.

"So… that happened," you murmur, trying to break the silence. He lets out a small laugh, but it’s low, more to himself than anything. “Yeah. Guess it did.” His voice sounds different now, less guarded, but there’s still that underlying tension. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or nervous. A mix of both. "I didn’t expect it to happen like this, especially here." He looks around the cramped stall, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Neither did I. But… it’s not the worst place, I guess."

You roll your eyes, half-smiling. “So… what now?” you ask, the question hanging in the air between you. He pauses, clearly thinking it over. Finally, he looks at you, his gaze steady. "I don’t know. But I don’t want it to be a one-time thing." You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. "Neither do I."

💘: thank you so much for all your support on my storiesss!! i didnt expect anyone to like them, so thank youu!!!🥹💕💕 ill get to the rest of the requests soon, im currently busy w school so itll take some time, thanks for your patience🫶

[winwintea]

on my bike

PAIRING ↬ ghost rider!lee jeno x fem!reader (feat. yu jimin/karina)

TAGS ↬ fluff, action, romance, angst, hidden feelings, best friends to lovers au, marvel au, ghost rider au, superhero au, antihero jeno potentially, reader is actually a mutant named surge, but she doesn't know it yet, karina is basically emma frost, this is NOT canon to actual marvel lore lol, more inspired by comics than the movies, jeno is a mix between johnny blaze and danny ketch, wrote the word 'venegance' so many times im starting to believe jeno is batman actually

WARNINGS ↬ mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, jeno crashing out, stunts going wrong, and a fight scene

SUMMARY ↬ after a brutal attack, stunt motorcyclist lee jeno stumbles upon a cursed bike and becomes the ghost rider. now bound to the spirit of vengeance, he fights to control his hellish powers while you, his childhood best friend, fall under the influence of a powerful telepath. as your own abilities awaken and tensions ignite, one question remains: will you save each other or burn together?

WORD COUNT ↬ 14.7k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ for @sungbeam's action figures collab!!!!! tysm for letting me join, this was literally the first time i've ever participated in a collab... and it was so fun. definitely challenged myself here, i'm not used to writing super hero or such action-packed scenes so if it's bad i apologize lol. anyways title is inspired by purple kiss i am in love with them now actually.

PLAYLIST ↬ no roots - alice merton; on my bike - purple kiss; nightmare - halsey; highway to hell - ac/dc; play with fire - sam tinnesz, yacht money; bang bang bang - bigbang; million dollar baby - ava max; mad head love - kenshi yonezu; wanted dead or alive - bon jovi; the chain - fleetwood mac; house of memories - panic at the disco; hymn for the weekend - coldplay

“LEE JENO.”

you muttered under your breath, watching as the sound of a roaring motorcycle echoed through the streets of your city, a blur of black and chrome weaving recklessly through traffic. “Of course.”

The bell above the door jingled as Jeno strolled in, helmet in hand, his trademark smirk plastered across his annoyingly perfect face. His leather jacket was scuffed from what you could only assume was another unnecessary stunt, and his bleached white hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.

“Guess who just broke his own jump record,” he announced, sliding into the booth across from you.

“You mean guess who just almost got himself killed,” you retorted, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jeno raised his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Y/N. It’s not like I landed on someone’s house or anything.”

“Not this time,” you snapped, folding your arms. “Seriously, Jeno, you can’t keep pulling this shit. You’re going to hurt yourself. Or someone else.”

He rolled his eyes and leaned back, draping one arm casually over the seat. “What’s life without a little risk?”

“Life without you being the industry’s walking insurance liability?” you shot back. “Sounds nice.”

For a second, his smirk faltered, but he quickly bounced back, leaning forward to snag a fry off your plate. “You worry too much. It’s cute, but unnecessary.”

“Don’t call me cute,” you muttered, snatching your plate away before he could grab another fry. “And I wouldn’t have to worry if you didn’t make it your mission to stress me out every single day.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel better, I’m perfectly fine right now,” he said, his voice light but tinged with something defensive.

You gave him a pointed look, gesturing toward the fresh scrape on his arm. “What about that, then? Don’t tell me that’s from cooking. You never cook.”

Jeno glanced down at the scrape, shrugged, and smiled sheepishly. “Fine, maybe I’m a little scratched up.”

“Scratched up doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you muttered, your voice softening. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep watching you do this to yourself, Jeno.”

His smile faded completely now. He suddenly shifted uncomfortably in his seat and grabbed his helmet. “Look, Y/N, I get it, okay? But this is who I am. You don’t have to like it, but you don’t have to stick around either.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” you said, your voice cracking slightly. “You’re my best friend. I’m always going to stick around. But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to sit here and watch you destroy yourself.”

Jeno hesitated, the weight of your words settling in the space between you. “I’m fine,” he said, but the words lacked conviction. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Yeah, well, too bad,” you replied, standing up and grabbing your jacket. “Because I do. And one day, your luck’s going to run out, Jeno.”

The crowd at the high-stakes stunt show was massive. Rows of bleachers packed with spectators buzzed with anticipation. You sat near the front, hands gripping the edge of your seat, your stomach twisting in knots. Except it wasn’t from excitement, but from anxiety.

Jeno was notorious for taking unnecessary risks, but tonight felt different. This wasn’t just a local showcase; this was a high-profile event with reporters and big-shot sponsors. The stakes were higher, and so was the pressure.

He’d even sworn he was “clean this time,” but you weren’t convinced.

“Ladies and gentlemen, get ready for the highlight of the evening!” the announcer boomed, his voice carrying over the speakers. “The one, the only—Lee Jeno!”

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Jeno rode into the arena, his sleek black motorcycle displayed under the spotlights. He raised one hand in acknowledgment of the cheers before revving up his engine, the rumble vibrating through the stands.

You exhaled sharply, muttering to yourself, “He better not screw this up.”

“Y/N!” Jeno’s voice rang out through his helmet’s mic, directly out of the speakers. He pointed at you, earning a cheer from the crowd. “This one’s for you!”

You rolled your eyes, your face heating up as you pulled your hands over your eyes. The spectators around you erupted into laughter and applause. “Great,” you muttered. “Now I’m part of the show.”

The announcer continued hyping up the crowd. “Jeno will attempt a daring backflip over not one, not two, but three flaming trucks! A feat no rider has dared before!”

Your stomach sank. Flaming trucks? Three? You shot Jeno a warning glare as he revved the bike again, giving you a wink in response.

Oh we’re so fucked.

Unbeknownst to you or Jeno, a group of shadowy figures loitered near the equipment trucks at the edge of the arena. But they weren’t here for the show. Instead, they were here for revenge. One of the men, a burly figure with a scar slicing through his brow, tightened his grip on a wrench.

“Showoff thinks he can cheat us and walk away?” he growled, “Let’s see him jump when his bike doesn’t even make it halfway.”

The group moved swiftly, one of them sneaking into the mechanics’ pit to tamper with Jeno’s ramp. Another slipped toward his bike, loosening key components. They didn’t care about the collateral damage. This was to send a message.

Jeno revved his engine once more, signaling to the crew that he was ready. The crowd roared as he sped toward the first ramp, flames rippled against the sides of the trucks he was about to clear.

You leaned forward in your seat, heart pounding. “Please don’t die. Please don’t die,” you muttered under your breath.

Jeno hit the ramp with precision, the bike soaring into the air like a black comet. The first flip was smooth, flawless even, and the crowd erupted in cheers.

But something went wrong on the descent.

The bike wobbled midair, tilting dangerously to the side. Jeno fought for control, but the tampered suspension buckled on impact with the second ramp. The motorcycle skidded, sparks flying as Jeno tumbled, his helmeted head slamming into the ground with a sickening thud.

The crowd gasped in unison, the cheers turning to horrified murmurs. You were on your feet in an instant, heart in your throat.

“JENO!” you screamed, scrambling down the bleachers toward the arena floor.

Before you could reach him, the saboteurs’ plan spiraled even further out of control. The flames from the trucks flared, spreading to the hay bales that lined the arena. As you sprinted toward Jeno’s crumpled form, one of the burning bales exploded, sending debris flying.

You didn’t even have time to react as a sharp piece of metal tore through the air, striking you across the side. Pain bloomed in your ribs, and you crumpled to the ground.

Dazed but conscious, Jeno pushed himself to his hands and knees, shaking off the stars in his vision. When his gaze landed on you lying motionless on the dirt, blood seeping into your shirt, something inside him snapped.

“No, no, no…” he muttered, dragging himself to his feet. His bike was destroyed, the flames were spreading, and you. You were hurt because of him.

Ignoring the chaos and his own injuries, Jeno stumbled toward you, scooping you into his arms. “Stay with me, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Please.”

He didn’t know where to go, only that he had to get you help. Cradling your limp body, Jeno ran blindly, the roaring flames and chaos fading into the background. His arms ached from carrying you, your weight heavy but nothing compared to the crushing guilt that clawed at his chest. He glanced down at you, your face pale, a streak of blood running from your temple.

“You’re gonna be fine. You hear me? Just fine.” he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling. 

The junkyard loomed ahead, its twisted silhouettes of rusted cars and mangled scrap metal casting long shadows under the moonlight. The attackers had scattered once the chaos at the arena spiraled out of control, but Jeno wasn’t about to risk being found. Not with you like this.

He stumbled into the junkyard, his knees nearly buckling as he reached what looked like the remnants of an old garage. The air was thick with the metallic tang of rust and oil. He carefully laid you down on an old tarp, brushing a strand of hair from your face with shaking fingers.

“Okay, okay…” Jeno muttered, looking around frantically. “Think, Jeno. Think. I need to—need to stop the bleeding.”

He tore a strip from his tattered shirt and pressed it against the wound on your side, and watched as your chest slightly rose up and down. Relief flickered in his chest. This meant you were still alive. 

The makeshift bandage was quickly soaked through. “Dammit,” he hissed, running a hand through his hair, smearing grease and sweat across his face. He needed help, but there was no one here. No one except—

The motorcycle.

It caught his eye in the far corner of the garage, half-buried under a pile of scrap. Its frame was unlike anything he’d ever seen, sleek yet ancient, with intricate carvings etched into the metal. It seemed almost alive, faintly glowing with an otherworldly orange light that pulsed like a heartbeat.

“What the…?” Jeno muttered, taking an unsteady step toward it. He couldn’t explain it, but something about the bike drew him in. The air around it felt heavier, charged with an unnatural energy that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

He glanced back at you, lying unconscious, and then at the motorcycle. Desperation clouded his judgment. Maybe. Just maybe? It could help. He didn’t know how or why, but the pull was undeniable.

Jeno reached out, his fingers hovering over the handlebars. The metal was warm, almost hot to the touch, and the glow intensified as if reacting to his presence.

“This is insane,” he muttered, but his hand closed around the grip anyway.

The second his skin made contact, a searing pain shot through his arm, up his spine, and into his skull. He screamed, his knees giving out as an overwhelming heat consumed him. Flames erupted from the motorcycle, engulfing him in a fiery inferno that didn’t burn but felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside.

Memories flashed before his eyes. Every reckless decision, every lie, every failure. The faces of those he’d hurt, including yours, swam in his vision. And then, a voice echoed in his head.

“Lee Jeno.”

Jeno’s body convulsed as the fire intensified, his skin crawling with molten energy. When the flames subsided, he was no longer the same. His hands burned with chains of fire, and his eyes glowed a fierce, demonic orange. He looked down at himself, his reflection faintly visible in the bike’s chrome. His face was a skull, wreathed in flames. The Spirit of Vengeance had awakened. Jeno was its vessel.

“My new Ghost Rider. Your sins are heavy. But your vengeance will be greater.”

“No,” Jeno whispered, his voice distorted, sounding like something almost inhuman. “What…what did you do to me?”

And then, Jeno heard the shouts of the attackers. They had followed him, closing in to finish what they started.

But they weren’t ready for what they found.

Jeno stood, the chains in his hands igniting with blistering heat. The Spirit of Vengeance surged within him, and with it came a single, overpowering urge: punish the guilty.

The attackers froze as he stepped forward, his skeletal face illuminated by the flickering flames. “You came for me,” Jeno growled, his voice echoing unnaturally. “Now you’ll burn for it.”

He lashed out with the chains, each strike searing through metal and flesh alike. The air was filled with screams as the flames consumed the saboteurs, leaving them scorched and broken. Vehicles erupted in explosions, sending shards of scrap flying through the air as the hellfire spread uncontrollably.

When the last of the attackers fell, Jeno stood motionless amidst the chaos, the flames dancing across his body slowly beginning to recede. The roar of the Spirit dimmed, leaving an oppressive silence in its wake.

And then he saw you.

The sight of your unconscious form lying so still on the ground sent a jolt through him. The fire in his chest flickered, replaced by an overwhelming horror. He dropped the chains and stumbled to your side, his skeletal hands trembling as he reached for you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice raw and human once more. The flames that had raged across his body faded completely, leaving him kneeling in the dirt, cradling you as his normal face returned.

Tears stung his eyes as he pulled you close, his arms wrapping protectively around your limp body. The junkyard was silent again, save for the faint crackle of dying embers.

“What have I done?” Jeno whispered, his voice breaking as he pressed his forehead to yours. Even as the Rider, his mind. his heart. It all was still his. He couldn’t lose you.

The sound of distant sirens jolted him from his thoughts. He knew that if he stayed the two of you would be questioned. He gently lifted you onto the back of the fiery motorcycle, the flames reaching your body but leaving you unharmed. The bike seemed to growl beneath him, its power thrumming in his veins, and for the first time, Jeno felt a strange sense of control over the chaos.

With a sharp kick, the motorcycle roared forward, flames streaking behind it as Jeno sped off into the night. 

The steady beep of a heart monitor was the first thing you heard as you drifted back into consciousness. It was followed by the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the sterile, antiseptic smell of a hospital room. Your body felt heavy, and when you tried to shift, a sharp pain lanced through your side.

“Easy,” a soft voice said.

Your eyes fluttered open to find Jeno sitting beside your bed, looking utterly wrecked. His black hoodie was rumpled, his knuckles bruised and scraped. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his normally cocky demeanor was nowhere to be found. Instead, he looked worried for once in his life, like he was afraid you might disappear if he blinked.

“Jeno.” you rasped, your throat dry. 

Relief flooded his face as he leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the bed. “You’re okay,” he breathed. “You’re okay.”

“Jeno.” you repeated again, your voice stronger now. 

He hesitated, guilt flickering across his face. “There was an accident at the show,” he began cautiously. “You…you got hurt. But you’re safe now. I got you out of there.”

The memories suddenly came rushing back. The flaming trucks, the explosion, the searing pain in your side. And then…nothing.

Your heart rate monitor began to beep faster as anger bubbled to the surface. “The show,” you said bitterly. “Of course. Because you just had to pull another one of your stunts.”

“Y/N, it wasn’t—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, your voice sharp. “Don’t you dare try to defend yourself right now. I almost died, Jeno.”

His shoulders sagged, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I know,” he said quietly. “And I’m so sorry. If I could take it back—”

“But you can’t, can you?” you snapped, your hands pointed at him accusedly. “You can’t take it back, Jeno. Because this is what you do. You push and you push until someone gets hurt, and this time, that someone was me.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s the problem,” you shot back. “You never mean for it to happen, but it always does. And I’m the one who has to pick up the broken pieces.”

Jeno flinched, like your words had physically struck him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “I can’t do this anymore, Jeno. I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself with drugs and alcohol, while dragging everyone else down with you.”

“I’m trying to change,” he said desperately, leaning forward. “I swear, Y/N. I’m done with all of it, the…everything. I’ll stop.”

“You always say that,” you muttered bitterly, turning your head away. “But nothing ever changes.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the faint beep of the heart monitor.

“I’ll make it right,” Jeno said after a long pause, his voice trembling. “I don’t know how yet, but I will. I promise.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. The pain in your side was nothing compared to the ache in your chest. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him as he slowly stood and stepped back.

“I’ll let you rest,” he said quietly. “But…I’m not giving up on us, Y/N. I’ll prove to you that I can be better.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the sterile, too-quiet room.

Sometimes Jeno’s promises were often just as hollow as the man who made them.

The roar of the motorcycle echoed through the empty streets as it skidded to a halt in the middle of an empty alley. Jeno ripped off his helmet, his chest heaving as he stumbled away from the bike. The orange glow of his eyes dimmed, leaving him in the dim light of a flickering street lamp.

“What the hell is happening to me?” he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair. His reflection stared back at him in a cracked window—human again, but the memory of his skeletal visage haunted him.

This wasn’t the first night he’d changed. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt it—the fire in his veins, the overwhelming urge to hunt, to punish. It wasn’t just a feeling; it was a presence. Some demon was inside him, whispering in his mind, urging him to give in.

“They deserve to burn.”

The voice was deep and guttural. It slithered through his thoughts like a venomous snake, tightening its hold every time he tried to ignore it.

“I’m not listening to you,” Jeno growled, gripping his head as the voice chuckled darkly.

“You can’t silence me, Jeno. You’re mine now. We’re one.”

The demon never introduced itself. It didn’t need to. Jeno already knew as soon as he touched that damn motorcycle. Zarathos. The Spirit of Vengeance. The demon that had bound itself to his soul, using his body as a vessel.

Jeno clenched his fists, the faint glow of hellfire flickering across his knuckles. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I didn’t ask for this,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m not a killer.”

“But you are a sinner,” Zarathos hissed. “And sinners punish sinners. The world is full of filth, and we will cleanse it.”

“No,” Jeno snapped, his voice echoing in the empty alley. “I’m not your executioner.”

The demon’s laughter rang in his head, low and mocking. “You say that now. But you felt it, didn’t you? The thrill? The power? The fire in your blood when you burned them? You enjoyed it.”

Jeno’s stomach churned at the memory of the attackers writhing in agony, the fire consuming them. He hadn’t wanted to hurt them—at least, not like that. But Zarathos was right about one thing: the power was intoxicating. And that terrified him.

He slammed his fist into the brick wall, leaving a charred dent in the crumbling stone. “You’re not in control,” he growled. “I am.”

“For now.”

By day, Jeno tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy. He performed his stunts, practiced at the arena, and plastered on a smile for his fans. But every time he climbed onto a bike, the fire inside him stirred, eager to be unleashed.

It was always worse at night.

Jeno stood on the rooftop of a dilapidated building, the city sprawled out below him like a labyrinth of shadows and flickering lights. The Spirit of Vengeance buzzed in his chest, pulling him toward something or someone.

He saw the scene before he heard it: a man in an alleyway, grabbing a young woman by the wrist. She screamed, struggling to pull away as the man loomed over her, a knife glinting in his hand.

Jeno’s vision blurred, his body moving on autopilot. The flames ignited before he even touched the bike, and when the Ghost Rider landed in the alley, the ground cracked beneath the weight of his fiery presence.

The man froze, his eyes wide with terror as the skeletal figure loomed over him. 

“You,” Jeno growled, his voice layered with Zarathos’ demonic timbre. “You prey on the innocent. What do you think you deserve?”

The man dropped the knife, stumbling backward. “I—I didn’t mean to—please, don’t hurt me!”

But the Spirit of Vengeance didn’t care for apologies. The chains in Jeno’s hands ignited, wrapping around the man and lifting him off the ground.

“Stop,” Jeno muttered, his human voice fighting to break through. “He’s not worth it.”

“He’s guilty,” Zarathos snarled. “And guilt demands punishment.”

The man screamed as the chains tightened, the hellfire scorching his skin. Jeno’s hands trembled, his skull burning brighter as he fought to regain control.

“He’s human,” Jeno argued. “I won’t kill him.”

The demon roared in frustration but relented, the chains loosening just enough to drop the man to the ground. The would-be attacker scrambled to his feet and ran, his screams fading into the distance.

Jeno stood in the alley, the flames around him slowly fading. He turned to the woman, who was staring at him with equal parts fear and gratitude.

“Go home,” he said gruffly, his voice still tinged with the Rider’s growl.

She nodded quickly, thanking him and disappearing into the night.

When the alley was silent again, Jeno collapsed against the wall, his human form returning. He buried his face in his hands, his body trembling.

“You see?” Zarathos sneered. “You can’t stop me forever. And soon, you won’t want to.”

Jeno closed his eyes, the weight of the demon’s presence pressing down on him. He didn’t know how long he could keep fighting. But for now, he had to try.

The neon glow of the gas station sign flickered in and out, bathing the parking lot in harsh, artificial light. Jeno leaned against his motorcycle, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. His hoodie was pulled low over his face, but anyone who looked close enough would see the cracks in his façade—the trembling hands, the bloodshot eyes, the faint glow that threatened to seep from his skin if he let his guard down.

The whiskey burned his throat, but not nearly as much as the fire that roared in his chest every night. Zarathos was relentless, clawing at the edges of his sanity, and the only way Jeno could silence him was by drowning himself in the haze of alcohol and pills.

“Just a little longer,” he muttered to himself, taking another swig. “Just until I figure this out.”

The lie tasted bitter, but it was easier to believe than the truth. He was losing control.

The next morning, you found him slumped over in his garage, reeking of smoke and booze. You hadn’t heard from him since you were discharged from the hospital, so you wanted to at least check in on him. But you weren’t pleased with what you saw. So much for promising change. 

“Jeno,” you said sharply, crossing your arms as you stood in the doorway.

He stirred, groaning as he lifted his head. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that,” you shot back. “Why aren’t you at practice? Or, I don’t know, trying to clean up your mess for once?”

He winced at your words, sitting up and rubbing his temples. “Not now, okay? I’ve got a headache that makes me want to kill myself right now.”

You scoffed, stepping closer and yanking the bottle out of his hand. “Are you serious right now? This is what you’re doing with your time? Drinking yourself into oblivion while I’m out here trying to recover from almost dying?”

“I’m trying to deal with it!” Jeno snapped, his voice louder than he intended. He stood, swaying slightly, his eyes bloodshot and tired. “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t hate myself for what happened to you?”

“Then stop making it worse!” you shot back, your voice rising to match his. “You’re spiraling, Jeno, and you’re not fighting this addiction at all.”

“I didn’t ask for this!” he shouted, his voice cracking. 

The raw emotion in his tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

Jeno exhaled shakily, running a hand through his messy hair. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” he said quietly. “But I’m trying. I swear I’m trying.”

You shook your head, your anger softening but not disappearing. “If this is your idea of trying, Jeno, then you’re failing.”

As you turned to leave, something stopped you. A memory from the news. Whispers of a “fiery skeleton” that had been spotted taking down criminals in the dead of night. You hesitated, glancing over your shoulder.

“Jeno,” you said cautiously. “You’ve been out a lot at night. You wouldn’t happen to know or run into that ‘fire guy’ people are talking about, would you?”

His entire body stiffened, his back turned to you. He didn’t answer right away, but the silence was damning. “...No.”

“Jeno,” you pressed, stepping closer. “What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Just…forget about it, okay?”

But you didn’t believe him. Not for a second.

“Jeno,” you said again, your voice soft but firm. “Look at me.”

He didn’t move.

“Jeno, look at me,” you repeated, more insistent this time.

Finally, he turned, and for the briefest moment, you swore you saw it—a faint glow in his eyes, like embers dying out. Your stomach twisted, a mix of fear and concern swirling in your chest.

“What happened to you?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jeno shook his head, stepping back. “You don’t want to know,” he said quietly.

“Yes, I do,” you insisted. “I’ve known you my whole life, Jeno. I’ve stood by you through everything. Don’t shut me out now.”

But he just shook his head again, grabbing his helmet and heading for the door. “I can’t,” he said, his voice hollow. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you alone in the dimly lit garage, more confused and worried than ever before.

So you needed a change of pace. If Jeno wanted to shut you out, then maybe you could use your time to focus on yourself more. 

You found yourself in your favorite cafe. The snug little store was warm, the scent of roasted coffee beans wrapping around you like a comforting hug. You were halfway through your drink, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, when the chair across from you was pulled out.

“Mind if I join you?”

You looked up, startled, to see a strikingly beautiful woman with an air of effortless confidence. Platinum blonde hair framed her sharp, elegant features, and her icy blue eyes sparkled with curiosity. Her tailored white coat and knee-high boots screamed sophistication, making you suddenly self-conscious of the oversized hoodie and jeans you’d thrown on.

“Uh…sure?” you replied hesitantly, gesturing to the chair.

She smiled, setting down her drink with precision. “I hope I’m not intruding. You looked like you could use some company.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Do I?”

She tilted her head, studying you like you were an interesting puzzle. “Call it intuition.”

“I guess you’re not wrong,” you admitted, leaning back in your chair. “It’s been…a rough few weeks.”

“I’m Karina,” she said smoothly, extending a hand.

“Y/N,” you replied, shaking it. Her grip was cool and firm, her smile almost too perfect.

“So, Y/N,” Karina said, resting her chin on her hand. “What’s been weighing on you? I’m a great listener.”

You hesitated. Something about her was disarming, almost magnetic. Before you could stop yourself, the words started spilling out. “It’s…complicated. Let’s just say someone I care about is making it really hard to keep caring about them.”

Karina nodded sympathetically, her expression never wavering. “The burden of loyalty. It’s a heavy one, isn’t it? Is this about a man?”

“Yeah,” you said, surprised by how much her words resonated. “I’ve known him forever, but lately…I don’t even recognize him anymore. He’s hiding something, and it’s tearing us apart.”

Karina sipped her drink, her gaze never leaving yours. “Sometimes, people hide because they’re afraid. Afraid of being judged, or rejected. But that doesn’t excuse them from the hurt they cause.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how accurately she’d summed up your feelings. “Exactly,” you said quietly.

“I know it’s not my place,” Karina continued, her tone gentle, “but maybe you need to take a step back. Focus on yourself for a while. You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

Her harsh words settled over you, surprised at her directness. But it was comforting to hear such honesty for once.

“I was thinking of it, but I don’t want to lose him either.” you admitted.

Karina’s smile widened just a fraction. “Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, other than him, I’m here.” She slid a sleek, white business card across the table. “Call me anytime.”

You picked up the card, turning it over in your hands. There was no title, no address—just her name and a number embossed in silver.

“Thanks,” you said, tucking it into your pocket.

“Don’t mention it,” Karina said, standing gracefully. “Take care of yourself, Y/N. You deserve it.”

Over the next few days, Karina became a fixture in your life. She’d text you to check in, send little messages of encouragement, and even invite you out for coffee or dinner.

At first, you were wary. People didn’t just waltz into your life like this without a reason. But Karina was warm, attentive, and had an uncanny ability to say exactly what you needed to hear. Plus, she was looking for friends in the city too since she had just moved here. 

“So, what’s the full deal with this guy?” she asked one evening over dinner, sipping a glass of wine. “The one who’s been giving you all this grief.”

“His name is Lee Jeno,” you said reluctantly. “He’s my…well, we’ve been friends since we were kids. But he’s got issues. Big ones.”

“Oh damn. The stunt biker guy.” Karina raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Issues like ‘he forgot your birthday,’ or issues like ‘he’s a raging alcoholic or drug addict or some other addiction’?”

You laughed, though it was tinged with unease. “Closer to the second one, honestly. Well, he’s always struggled with it. Yet, he’s been acting so weird lately. Disappearing at night, avoiding my questions. And sometimes, when I look at him, it’s like he’s not even Jeno anymore.”

Karina leaned forward, her expression unreadable. “And you’re sure it’s just him trying to hide his addiction? Nothing…bigger going on?”

The question caught you off guard. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” Karina said breezily, waving a hand. “Just that sometimes, people go through changes. Big changes. Ones they don’t know how to explain. And sometimes, it takes someone else to help them see their true potential.”

You frowned, her words stirring something deep inside you. “I don’t know. Jeno’s not exactly the ‘ask for help’ type.”

Karina’s smile turned enigmatic, her blue eyes practically glowing. “Maybe not. But some people just need the right nudge. And who better to do that than you?”

There was something in her tone, something that made your skin prickle. But before you could dwell on it, Karina raised her glass in a toast.

“To new beginnings,” she said, her voice smooth as silk.

You hesitated, then clinked your glass against hers. “To new beginnings.”

As you drank, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Karina knew more about your life and Jeno’s than maybe she was letting on.

The opulent room was bathed in shadows, the flickering light of a chandelier casting jagged shapes on the polished mahogany walls. Karina stood at the center of the large, round table, her white ensemble a stark contrast against the room’s dark and decadent decor. Around her sat the upper echelon of the Hellfire Club, an underground organization of mutants with a reputation for ruthlessness and manipulation.

“Karina,” a deep, commanding voice said, breaking the silence. It belonged to the Black King, the leader of the group, whose piercing gaze bore into her. “My dearest White Queen. You’ve been unusually proactive lately. Care to share what’s captured your attention?”

Karina smiled coolly, folding her hands in front of her. “I’ve found something—or rather, someone—of immense potential.”

The Black Queen, a woman with sharp features and an even sharper tongue, leaned forward with an arched brow. “Do tell. Potential isn’t exactly rare these days. Why is this someone worth our time?”

Karina stepped closer to the table, her heels clicking against the marble floor. “Her name is Y/N. She’s a baseline human. Or so she thinks. She’s yet to manifest her mutant abilities.”

She paused, letting the words sink in before continuing. “Her energy is…raw, untapped, but powerful. I’ve felt it. It’s dormant now, but when it awakens, it will rival even the strongest of us. I’m surprised it’s taking her so long to manifest, but that’s what makes it so powerful.”

The Black King steepled his fingers, his expression unreadable. “And what makes you so certain she’s worth the effort? If her powers haven’t manifested yet, there’s no guarantee they ever will.”

Karina tilted her head, a hint of amusement in her smile. “Oh, they will. I’ve already seen the signs—subtle as they are. Her emotions are volatile, and she’s drawn to chaos like a moth to flame. It’s only a matter of time before the spark ignites.”

The Black Queen’s lips curved into a smirk. “Interesting. And what do you propose we do with her once this ‘spark’ ignites?”

Karina’s smile turned predatory, her blue eyes gleaming. “We guide her. Shape her. I’m sensing some crazy electrical forces. Imagine what we could accomplish with her power under our control.”

“And if she refuses?” the Black King asked, his tone cold and measured.

Karina’s expression didn’t falter. “Then we ensure she has no choice. After all, loyalty is just another form of control. And I’ve already begun earning hers.”

A murmur rippled through the room as the other members exchanged intrigued glances.

The Black King leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Karina. But if you can deliver on your promises, the rewards will be worth the risk.”

“I always deliver,” Karina said smoothly.

The Black Queen raised her glass, the golden liquid catching the light. “Then here’s to your little pet project. Let’s hope she’s everything you claim she is.”

Karina raised her own glass in return, her smile never wavering. 

“Oh, she will be.”

Jeno stood outside the café, arms crossed and jaw tight as he watched through the window. There you were, sitting across from Karina again, laughing at something she’d said. The way you leaned in, the way she smiled that calculated, flawless smile—it all set his teeth on edge.

He clenched his fists, the faint flicker of flames threatening to ignite beneath his skin. Zarathos stirred in the back of his mind, growling low like an animal sensing danger.

“She’s not who she seems,” the demon whispered, its voice grating like embers crackling.

Jeno didn’t need Zarathos to tell him that. He’d felt it the moment he’d laid eyes on Karina. Something about her was too perfect, too polished. And the way she’d latched onto you so quickly? It wasn’t right.

He waited until Karina had left before stepping inside. You looked up, surprised to see him, but your expression quickly shifted to irritation.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone defensive.

Jeno didn’t answer right away, pulling up a chair and sitting across from you. His leather jacket creaked as he leaned forward, his dark eyes searching yours. “We need to talk.”

You sighed, already bracing yourself. “If this is about Karina—”

“It is about her,” he cut in, his voice firm. “Y/N, you don’t know her. Not really.”

“And you do?” you shot back, crossing your arms.

“I don’t need to,” he said, his tone rising. “Something about her is off. I can feel it.”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “Oh, great. Now we’re relying on your ‘feelings’ to judge people? Like your intuition ever worked in the first place. I’m lucky to be alive right now.”

Jeno’s jaw tightened. “I’m serious, Y/N. She’s not who she says she is. People don’t just waltz into your life and start playing therapist out of the goodness of their hearts.”

“Maybe she actually cares,” you snapped. “Unlike someone who disappears for days at a time without a word and comes back smelling like smoke and regret.”

Jeno flinched at your words, but he pushed forward. “I’m not perfect, okay? But I know when someone’s trouble. And Karina? She’s got ‘trouble’ written all over her.”

“Why do you even care?” you demanded, your voice rising. “You don’t get to swoop in and play the hero after everything that’s happened. I don’t need your permission to make new friends.”

Jeno looked at you, his expression a mix of frustration and something softer—hurt, maybe. “I care because I don’t want you to get hurt. Again.”

For a moment, you almost softened. Almost.

But then you thought about Karina. How she listened, how she didn’t judge you, how she made you feel seen in a way Jeno hadn’t in months.

“You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t trust,” you said coldly. “Karina’s been more of a friend to me lately than you have.”

Jeno stared at you, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re making a mistake,” he said quietly.

“Then it’s my mistake to make,” you shot back.

He stood, his chair scraping against the floor as he shoved it back. “Fine,” he muttered, turning to leave. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Later that evening, you met Karina at her apartment. A sleek, modern space with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. God, you were poor as hell. She greeted you with a warm smile, handing you a glass of wine as you settled onto her plush couch.

“You seem tense,” she noted, sitting gracefully across from you.

“Just had another fight with Jeno,” you admitted, swirling the wine in your glass. “He’s convinced you’re some kind of…villain or something.”

Karina chuckled, the sound light and melodic. “He doesn’t trust me?”

“Not even a little,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s like he’s looking for reasons to push me away.”

Karina reached out, placing a hand over yours. Her touch was cool and comforting. “Sometimes people lash out because they’re afraid. Fear can make them see threats where there are none.”

You sighed, leaning back. “I just don’t get it. Why can’t he see that you’re trying to help me?”

Karina’s expression softened, but there was a flicker of something behind her eyes—something calculated. “It’s because he doesn’t understand you the way I do. You’re special, Y/N. More than you realize.”

You frowned, her words catching you off guard. “Special? What do you mean?”

Karina smiled enigmatically, her fingers brushing against yours. “You’ll see. In time.”

Her words left a lingering unease in your chest, but you pushed it aside. Karina had been nothing but kind to you. Jeno didn’t know what he was talking about.

Jeno leaned against the wall of his garage, staring blankly at the ground. Zarathos growled in the back of his mind, restless and impatient.

“You should have burned her,” the demon hissed.

Jeno closed his eyes, his hands balling into fists. “Shut up.”

“She’s manipulating her. The girl you care for. Can’t you feel it?”

Jeno’s jaw clenched. He didn’t need Zarathos to tell him that. But what could he do? You weren’t listening to him, and every time he tried to warn you, it only pushed you further away.

“Then stop warning her,” Zarathos said, his voice low and menacing. “And show her what that woman truly is.”

Jeno opened his eyes, the flames flickering faintly in his irises. For once, he found himself agreeing with the demon. 

“You’re finally listening,” Zarathos hissed, its voice echoing in Jeno’s head.

“Don’t get used to it,” Jeno muttered, gripping the handlebars of the bike. “I didn’t ask for you, and I’m not letting you run the show.”

The Spirit of Vengeance laughed, a dark, grating sound that sent chills down Jeno’s spine. “You think you can control me, boy? You’re nothing without me.”

Jeno scowled, the flames creeping up his arms flaring brighter in response to his frustration. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for her.”

“Ah, the girl,” Zarathos sneered. “You think she’ll forgive you? That she’ll see you as anything but a monster?”

“She will,” Jeno said firmly, his voice steady despite the doubt gnawing at him. “But first, I need to figure out how to use this…whatever this is.”

Zarathos growled. “Vengeance isn’t a tool, boy. It’s a purpose. A fire that consumes everything in its path.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not here to burn the world down,” Jeno snapped. “I’m here to protect it.”

The Spirit laughed again, its voice dripping with disdain. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Determined to understand his new abilities, Jeno spent every spare moment testing the limits of his powers. He discovered that the flames responded to his emotions, roaring to life when he was angry or scared and flickering out when he calmed himself.

One night, he stood in the middle of an abandoned road, the cursed motorcycle idling beside him. He took a deep breath, focusing on the growing warmth in his chest, and held out his hand. A whip of fire erupted from his palm, coiling and snapping like a living thing.

“Not bad,” he muttered to himself, extinguishing the whip with a flick of his wrist.

But every small victory was overshadowed by the constant presence of Zarathos. The Spirit’s voice was a relentless whisper in his mind, urging him to give in, to embrace the fire and let it consume him.

“Why fight it?” Zarathos taunted. “You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The power. The thrill.”

Jeno ignored the voice, climbing onto the motorcycle and revving the engine. The flames along its frame flared to life, illuminating the darkness around him.

“I’m not your puppet,” he muttered, tightening his grip on the handlebars.

“We’ll see,” the Spirit replied, its laughter echoing in his ears as he sped down the road.

One evening, while patrolling the outskirts of town, Jeno stumbled upon a group of men mugging an elderly woman in an alley. His first instinct was to intervene, but as the flames began to crawl up his arms, Zarathos’ voice returned, stronger than ever.

“Punish them,” it hissed. “Make them suffer.”

Jeno hesitated, his heart pounding. The men turned to face him, their eyes widening in fear as they took in his glowing eyes and the flames licking at his jacket.

“Hey, man, we don’t want any trouble,” one of them stammered, backing away.

Jeno clenched his fists, the fire burning hotter. Zarathos was screaming in his mind now, urging him to unleash his fury.

“They deserve it!” the Spirit roared. “They’re guilty!”

But as Jeno looked at the terrified men, he saw something else—fear. Regret. They weren’t innocent, but they weren’t beyond saving, either.

“No,” Jeno said aloud, his voice steady. “Not like this.”

He extinguished the flames, stepping forward and forcing the men to flee with nothing more than his presence. The elderly woman thanked him tearfully, but as he walked away, the weight of Zarathos’ disapproval settled over him like a storm cloud.

“You’re weak,” the Spirit snarled. “One day, you’ll see. Mercy has no place in vengeance.”

“Maybe not,” Jeno muttered, mounting his motorcycle. “But I’m not just vengeance. I’m also me.”

The more Jeno used his powers, the more he began to notice strange connections—patterns he couldn’t ignore. The criminals he encountered often mentioned a name in hushed tones: Karina.

One night, he followed a lead to an abandoned warehouse, where he found a cache of high-tech weapons and equipment. The markings on the crates were unmistakable. This wasn’t ordinary crime.

“She’s not just some innocent bystander,” Jeno muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re finally catching on,” Zarathos sneered. “She’s more dangerous than you know. And she has her sights set on your girl.”

Jeno’s heart sank. He didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence was piling up. Karina wasn’t who she seemed, and if she was connected to you, that meant you were in more danger than you realized.

He revved his motorcycle, the flames roaring to life. “Not on my watch,” he muttered, speeding off into the night.

The fire burned hotter now, fueled by a new determination. Jeno wasn’t just fighting to control the Spirit of Vengeance anymore. He was fighting to save you.

You sat in Karina’s sleek, modern apartment, the dim lighting casting long shadows on the pristine walls. A strange tension filled the room. Karina’s usually serene demeanor had shifted; there was an intensity in her gaze, something calculating behind her sharp blue eyes.

“You’ve felt it, haven’t you?” Karina asked, her voice soft yet commanding.

“Felt what?” you asked, frowning as you set your cup of tea on the table.

“That spark,” she said, leaning forward, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. “The moments when your emotions run high—fear, anger, pain—and something stirs inside you. Something you can’t explain.”

You blinked, your pulse quickening. You had felt something—fleeting moments of electric energy coursing through your body, like static building up but never quite releasing. But you’d written it off as stress or adrenaline.

“How do you know about that?” you asked warily.

Karina smiled, a knowing, almost maternal expression crossing her face. “Because I’ve seen it before. I know what you are, Y/N.”

Your throat tightened. “What I am? You make it sound like I’m not a human.”

“You’re not just human,” she said, her tone dripping with certainty. “You’re a mutant.”

The word hung in the air, heavy and charged. You stared at her, the weight of her statement pressing down on you. “That’s not… I’m not…”

“You are,” Karina interrupted gently. “It’s why you’ve always felt different, why strange things happen around you when you’re upset. It’s your gift, Y/N. Your power.”

Your mind raced, flashes of unexplained incidents from your past bubbling to the surface: the lights flickering during arguments, the faint hum of electricity in your veins when you were scared. 

A mutant? But mutants were both feared and loved by society. Oh god, what would Jeno think?

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Karina reached out, placing a hand on yours. “You don’t have to say anything. I know how overwhelming this must be, but you’re not alone. You don’t have to go through this by yourself.”

You looked up at her, tears pricking your eyes. “What am I supposed to do? I don’t even know how to control it.”

“That’s where I come in,” Karina said smoothly. “I can help you. I’ve been where you are, Y/N. I know what it’s like to feel lost, to feel like the world doesn’t understand you. But I do.”

Her words were like a lifeline, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of hope. But then a small voice in the back of your mind—Jeno’s voice—echoed faintly: She’s not who she says she is.

You shook your head, brushing the thought away. Karina had been nothing but kind to you. Jeno didn’t understand.

Karina led you into a hidden room within her apartment, the walls lined with advanced tech and holographic screens displaying maps, dossiers, and data that you couldn’t begin to comprehend.

“What is all this?” you asked, glancing around in awe.

“This,” Karina said, gesturing to the room with a flourish, “is part of something much bigger. A movement, if you will. The Hellfire Club.”

You turned to her, confusion etched across your face. “The Hellfire Club? What is that?”

“We’re an organization dedicated to ensuring mutantkind rises to its rightful place in the world,” Karina explained, her voice laced with passion. “For too long, mutants have been oppressed, hunted, and treated as less than human. But we’re done hiding. We’re done being afraid.”

Her words stirred something in you—a mix of fear and curiosity. “What does this have to do with me?”

Karina stepped closer, her gaze piercing. “Everything. Your powers, Y/N—they’re extraordinary. Once they’re fully awakened, you’ll be capable of things most mutants can only dream of. But you need guidance. Training. And that’s what I’m offering you.”

You swallowed hard, your mind spinning. “I don’t know if I can do this. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“None of us did,” Karina said, her voice softening. “But we don’t get to choose what we are. We can only choose how we use it. And you, Y/N, have the potential to change everything.”

She paused, letting her words sink in before adding, “But to do that, you have to let go of your fear. You have to embrace who you are. And you have to trust me.”

There was something magnetic about her, something that made you want to believe every word she said. But deep down, a seed of doubt began to take root.

“What’s the catch?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Karina smiled, her expression unreadable. “No catch, my dear. Only the promise of a future where you can be free—where we can all be free.”

You hesitated, torn between the comfort of her words and the nagging feeling in your gut. “I need time to think.”

“Of course,” Karina said smoothly. “Take all the time you need. But remember, Y/N. Your power is a gift. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”

As you left her apartment that night, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. You wanted to believe her, to trust her, but something about her intensity unsettled you.

And as you walked into the cool night air, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were standing at the edge of something much larger and much more dangerous than you’d ever imagined.

Jeno sat on the curb outside your apartment, his head in his hands, shoulders slumped under the weight of exhaustion and regret. His jacket was torn, his knuckles bloodied from a fight he barely remembered, and the faint smell of whiskey lingered on his breath. He stared blankly at the empty bottle in his lap, the flames of his inner turmoil simmering just beneath the surface. The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that made his thoughts louder, more unbearable.

When you stepped outside, startled to find him there in the dead of night, his eyes met yours. They were glassy, but not from the alcohol. There was something raw and vulnerable in them, something you hadn’t seen in a long time. For a moment, you hesitated, unsure whether to approach him or turn back inside. But the sight of him—broken, disheveled, and so unlike the confident Jeno you’d always known—pulled you forward.

“Jeno?” you said cautiously, stepping closer. The cold night air bit at your skin, but the tension between you was far more chilling.

He looked up, his eyes hollow yet filled with a desperation that made your chest tighten. “Y/N,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. He stood, swaying slightly, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. “I—I needed to see you.”

Your heart clenched at the sight of him. He looked like a ghost of the man you once knew, his charm buried beneath layers of pain and self-destruction. “It’s the middle of the night,” you said, crossing your arms, trying to shield yourself from the emotions threatening to spill over. “You can’t just show up like this.”

“I know,” he said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I know I’m a mess. But I—” He paused, his voice cracking. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

You frowned, torn between frustration and concern. “What do you mean?”

Jeno’s hands trembled as he gripped the bottle tighter, then hurled it across the street. It shattered against the pavement, the sound cutting through the stillness like a scream. “This!” he shouted, gesturing wildly to himself. “I’m losing control, Y/N! Of everything. Of my powers. Of… of me.”

You stepped back, startled by the outburst. “Jeno, calm down—”

“I can’t!” he yelled, his voice breaking. “I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried. But it’s like I’m fighting this thing inside me, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep it at bay.”

His hands ignited for a split second, flames licking at his skin before fizzling out. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The sight of the fire—real, tangible fire—coming from his hands was impossible to process. Your mind raced, trying to make sense of what you’d just seen. “Jeno… what was that?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He clenched his fists, shaking his head as if trying to push the Spirit’s voice out of his mind. “It’s me,” he said bitterly. “Or… it’s not me. I don’t even know anymore.” He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and shame. “I’m not just some messed-up stunt rider, Y/N. I’m… I’m the Ghost Rider.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and surreal. Your mind reeled, struggling to reconcile the Jeno you knew with the stories you’d heard about the fiery vigilante haunting the city. “The Ghost Rider?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. “That’s… that’s impossible.”

“I wish it was,” he said, his voice hollow. “But it’s real. The flames, the power, the voice in my head—it’s all real. And it’s killing me, Y/N. Every time I transform, it feels like I’m burning from the inside out. And the things I’ve done… the people I’ve hurt…” He trailed off, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair again. “I’m a monster.”

Your heart ached at the pain in his voice, but the shock of his confession kept you rooted to the spot. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, your voice rising. “All this time, you’ve been dealing with this alone, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to see me like this!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “I didn’t want you to look at me and see a monster. You’re the one person who still sees something good in me, and I couldn’t risk losing that.”

Tears welled in your eyes as his words hit you. “Jeno, you don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to carry this by yourself.”

“And then there’s you,” he said, his voice softer now, filled with anguish. “You’re the one thing. The only thing that makes me want to be better. But I’m screwing that up too, aren’t I?”

“Jeno…” You didn’t know what to say, the weight of his words leaving you stunned. Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Shock, fear, anger, and an overwhelming sadness for the man standing in front of you.

He stepped closer, his eyes searching yours desperately. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you. Not to her. Not to Karina.”

You stiffened at the mention of her name. “This again? Jeno, I told you—Karina’s helping me. She understands me in a way you don’t. She—”

“She’s using you!” Jeno snapped, his voice rising. “You think she cares about you? She’s manipulating you, Y/N. I’ve seen it. I feel it.”

“You don’t know her,” you shot back, anger flaring in your chest. “You don’t know what I’ve been through or what it’s like to feel so out of control. Karina does.”

“And I don’t?” Jeno asked bitterly. “I’ve been out of control my whole damn life. But I’m trying, Y/N. I’m trying because of you.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and he ran a hand down his face, his composure crumbling. “I love you,” he said finally, his words barely audible. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And I’ve been too much of a coward to say it until now.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy and charged. Your breath caught, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jeno… you can’t.” you began, your voice faltering. “That’s so unfair. You can’t fucking drop that on me?” 

He grabbed your hands, his touch warm despite the cold night air. “Please,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Please don’t trust her. Don’t let her pull you into whatever she’s planning. I can’t lose you to her.”

You pulled your hands away, your heart twisting painfully in your chest. “You don’t understand, Jeno. I’m finally starting to figure out who I am, and Karina is helping me. I can’t just walk away from that.”

“And what about me?” he asked, his voice breaking. “What about us?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, tears welling in your eyes. “I don’t know what I feel anymore.”

Jeno stared at you, his expression a mix of heartbreak and resignation. “You’ve already chosen her, haven’t you?”

You couldn’t answer. The silence between you was deafening, and when Jeno finally turned and walked away, the flames that had always surrounded him seemed smaller, dimmer.

The air inside the abandoned factory was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle and your breath catch in your throat. The dim, flickering lights overhead cast long shadows across the rusted machinery and crumbling walls, creating an eerie backdrop for the confrontation you knew was coming. You stood frozen at the edge of the room, your heart pounding as you tried to steady your breathing. Your hands trembled at your sides, tiny sparks of electricity dancing between your fingers. You clenched your fists, trying to suppress the energy surging through you, but it was like holding back a tidal wave.

Karina stood at the center of the room, her white suit pristine despite the grime of the factory. Her diamond-shaped earrings caught the faint light, glinting like shards of ice. She watched you with a calculating gaze, her lips curled into a faint smirk. “You feel it, don’t you?” she said, her voice smooth and unnervingly calm. “The power inside you, begging to be unleashed. You don’t have to fight it, Y/N. Let it out.”

“Stop. Get out of my head.” you snapped, your voice shaking with a mix of fear and anger. 

Her smirk widened. “Darling, you can barely control your own abilities. I’m just helping you clear your mind. To help you relax. ”

Before you could respond, a deafening roar tore through the silence. The factory doors exploded inward, shards of metal and wood scattering across the floor. Flames erupted in the doorway, and through the inferno, Jeno emerged on his motorcycle, the Ghost Rider in full form. His flaming skull cast an ominous glow across the room, and his chain dragged behind him, leaving scorch marks in its wake.

“Karina!” Jeno’s voice was a guttural growl, distorted by the Spirit of Vengeance. “Step away from her.”

Karina turned toward him, her smirk never faltering. “Well, well,” she said, her tone dripping with mockery. “The Spirit of Vengeance finally decided to crash the party. How… predictable.”

You took a step forward, panic rising in your chest. “Jeno, don’t do this!”

He glanced at you briefly, his fiery gaze softening for just a moment. “Get out of here, Y/N. I don’t want you to see this.”

Karina laughed, a cold, melodic sound that sent a chill down your spine. “Oh, she’s not going anywhere. Not when she’s finally starting to understand her potential.”

Jeno’s flames roared brighter, his chain snapping taut in his hands. “You’re not laying a finger on her.”

Karina’s eyes glowed with a faint silver hue, her telepathic powers flaring to life. “I don’t need to lay a finger on her to destroy you, Jeno.”

The telepathic assault hit Jeno like a freight train. His flames flickered, dimming as he staggered back, clutching his skull. The Ghost Rider’s growl turned into a pained roar as Karina’s voice echoed in his mind, sharp and venomous.

“You’re a failure, Lee Jeno,” she hissed, her words cutting deeper than any physical blow. “A coward. A junkie. You think you can protect her? You couldn’t even protect yourself.”

Jeno dropped to his knees, his chain clattering to the ground. His fiery skull dimmed further, revealing glimpses of his human face beneath, twisted in agony. “No,” he muttered, his voice trembling. “No, I—”

Karina stepped closer, her voice dripping with venom. “You left her to die, Jeno. You’re the reason she almost bled out in that junkyard. And now you think you can save her from me? You’re pathetic.”

“Stop it!” you screamed, stepping forward. But an invisible barrier, a telekinetic shield, held you back. You slammed your fists against it, sparks of electricity crackling against the force field. “Let him go!”

Karina didn’t even glance at you, her focus entirely on Jeno. “You’re nothing without the Spirit of Vengeance. Just a broken man with nothing to offer.”

Jeno’s flames sputtered, his body trembling as he fought against her mental assault. But then, something snapped.

A surge of electricity exploded from your body, shattering Karina’s barrier and sending a shockwave through the room. The force of it knocked Karina back, her telepathic hold on Jeno breaking as she stumbled. Sparks danced along your skin, and the lights in the factory flickered wildly, casting the room in a chaotic strobe of light and shadow.

Karina’s calm façade cracked for the first time, her eyes narrowing as she stared at you. “What…?” she muttered, her voice tinged with disbelief.

You looked down at your hands, electricity arcing between your fingers. The buzzing energy in your veins was overwhelming but exhilarating, like you were finally alive for the first time. “I don’t know what you did to me,” you said, your voice trembling but firm. “But I’m done letting you manipulate me.”

Jeno rose to his feet, his flames roaring back to life as the Spirit of Vengeance surged within him. He turned to you, his fiery gaze filled with both awe and concern. “Y/N… your powers…”

You met his gaze, a flicker of resolve igniting in your chest. “We’ll figure it out later. Right now, we stop her. Together.”

Karina’s lips twisted into a scowl. “You think you can stop me? Both of you are just scared little children playing with powers you don’t understand.”

Her eyes glowed again as she prepared to strike, but this time, you were ready. Electricity coursed through your body as you raised your hand, sending a bolt of lightning toward her. Jeno’s chain ignited in flames as he lashed out, the Ghost Rider and your newfound powers colliding in a chaotic, electrified storm of fire and fury.

Sparks flew as your electricity surged wildly, ricocheting off metal beams and machinery, while flames from Jeno’s Ghost Rider form scorched the ground. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid smell of burning metal, the heat of the battle pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. Karina narrowly avoided both attacks.

You stood in the middle of it all, suddenly trembling as the power in your veins pulsed out of control, the air around you crackling with raw energy. Every breath felt like fire in your lungs, every heartbeat a thunderous drum in your ears.

“Jeno, stop!” you shouted, your voice breaking through the storm of noise. “I can’t— I can’t control it!”

“Y/N, get out of here!” Jeno growled, the hellfire in his skull burning brightly as he dodged a telepathic assault from Karina. His chain lashed out, the flames leaving a trail of fire as it whipped through the air. “I’ll handle her!”

“You can’t handle me, Rider,” Karina sneered, her diamond-covered hand catching the flames of Jeno’s chain and deflecting them with ease. The impact sent a shower of sparks cascading to the ground, illuminating her cold, calculating smirk. She twisted her body back to flesh, her eyes glowing as she aimed a telepathic blast toward you. “And neither can she.”

The attack hit you like a freight train, sending you stumbling backward. Your head throbbed as Karina’s voice echoed in your mind, sharp and venomous. You’re a danger to everyone around you, Y/N. Look at him. He’s already breaking because of you.

“No!” you shouted, gripping your head as electricity sparked uncontrollably from your body, burning holes in the ground. The pain was unbearable, a searing heat that threatened to consume you. “Get out of my head!”

Jeno roared, swinging his flaming chain toward Karina with a ferocity that shook the room. “Leave her alone!”

Karina turned to diamond just in time, the chain clashing against her hardened form with a deafening clang. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through the factory, shattering nearby windows and sending shards of glass raining down. Jeno pulled back and lashed out again, but the attacks only glanced off her unyielding body, leaving faint scorch marks on her diamond skin.

“You’re predictable,” Karina taunted, reverting back to her human form. Her voice dripped with malice as she stepped closer, her heels clicking against the cracked concrete. “And reckless.” Her eyes narrowed, her telepathic powers flaring as she struck again, this time targeting Jeno. Which is why you’ll never be enough for her.

Jeno froze, his flames flickering as the words hit him like a punch to the gut. The Ghost Rider’s growl faltered, his fiery skull dimming as Karina’s mental assault dug into his deepest insecurities. “I… I…” he stammered, his voice trembling.

Seeing her opening, Karina lunged, her diamond form shimmering into existence as she aimed a devastating punch at Jeno’s chest. The blow landed with a sickening crunch, sending him flying into a stack of metal crates. He hit the ground hard, the flames around him sputtering as he struggled to rise.

“Jeno!” you screamed, your voice raw with panic. Electricity surged through you, the power building to a dangerous level as your fear and anger took over. You raised your hands, the energy crackling wildly as you unleashed a massive bolt of lightning toward Karina.

She shifted to diamond just in time, the electricity ricocheting off her hardened form and striking a nearby generator. The explosion sent a wave of heat and debris crashing through the factory, the force of it knocking you off your feet. You hit the ground hard, the breath driven from your lungs as pain shot through your ribs.

Karina emerged from the smoke, her diamond form flickering as she reverted to flesh. A thin trail of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, her once-pristine suit now torn and scorched. “You’re meddling in things you don’t understand, Y/N,” she hissed, her voice laced with frustration.

“And whose fault is that?” you shot back, electricity arcing dangerously around you. Your body ached, your vision blurred, but you forced yourself to stand. “You lied to me. You used me.”

“I gave you purpose!” Karina snapped, shifting back to her human form as she tried to invade your mind again. But you were ready this time.

The moment her telepathic influence touched you, your electricity surged outward in a massive wave, cutting off her connection. The lights in the factory exploded, plunging the room into flickering darkness lit only by Jeno’s flames and the electric blue glow of your powers. The air buzzed with energy, the tension so thick it felt like the room itself was holding its breath.

Jeno took advantage of the distraction, his chain wrapping around Karina’s leg and yanking her off her feet. She hit the ground with a sharp thud, immediately shifting to diamond to avoid his next attack. Jeno’s flames roared brighter as he swung his chain again, the fiery links crashing against her diamond form with enough force to send her skidding across the floor.

“You’re out of tricks, Karina!” Jeno snarled, his skull blazing with hellfire.

Karina smirked, standing slowly. “Am I?”

With a wave of her hand, she sent shards of diamond-like energy hurtling toward you. Jeno’s flames flared brighter as he leapt in front of you, the shards disintegrating against his burning form. But the force of the attack sent him staggering, his flames flickering as he struggled to stay upright.

“Y/N, focus!” he shouted, glancing over his shoulder at you. Blood dripped from a gash on his forehead, his human form flickering beneath the Ghost Rider’s flames. “You’ve got this. I know you do.”

You swallowed hard, your heart racing. The chaos of the battle overwhelmed you, but Jeno’s words anchored you, giving you the strength to push past the fear. Electricity sparked and crackled around you as you raised your hands, channeling the power into a focused current. The energy shot forward, slamming into Karina with enough force to send her flying into a pile of crates.

She staggered to her feet, her diamond form flickering as she struggled to maintain it. For the first time, she looked rattled, her breathing ragged and her movements slower, more deliberate.

“This isn’t over,” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom.

“We’ll see about that,” Jeno growled, flames flaring as he stepped forward.

You steadied yourself, your hands still sparking, ready for whatever came next. For the first time, you felt a glimmer of control over your powers. With Jeno by your side, you knew you wouldn’t back down.

Karina straightened, her diamond form flickering as she reverted to flesh. She held up a hand, her expression unreadable. “Enough,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost resigned. “I can’t keep this up forever.”

Jeno growled, his chain igniting in fiery protest as the Spirit of Vengeance pushed him to finish the fight. “You don’t get to walk away, Karina.”

But you stepped forward, placing a hand on his burning shoulder. “Jeno, wait,” you said, your voice firm but calm. “Let me handle this.”

Jeno’s skull turned slightly toward you, the flames in his sockets flickering with hesitation, but he relented, lowering his chain. “Fine. But don’t trust her.”

You turned to Karina, your chest heaving as you fought to steady the overwhelming power coursing through you. “Why are you doing this?” you asked, your voice trembling—not with fear, but with exhaustion and hurt. “You said you were helping me. Was it all a lie?”

Karina’s diamond form flickered briefly before she reverted fully to flesh and blood. For the first time, you saw something human in her eyes—regret, perhaps, or maybe doubt. She wiped a smudge of dirt from her cheek, straightening her posture.

“I didn’t lie,” she said, her voice softer now. “Not about everything. You do have incredible potential, Y/N. More than you realize. But… I didn’t approach you purely out of kindness.”

“Then why?” you demanded, the electricity around you sparking dangerously.

Karina hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Because I needed you. Your powers. For the Hellfire Club’s plans. You were… a means to an end.”

Your chest tightened at her words, but before the anger could take hold, she continued.

“But,” she said, glancing away, “it wasn’t all manipulation. I—” She paused, the unflappable Karina momentarily at a loss for words. “I enjoyed spending time with you, Y/N. You’re smart, kind… and you made me see things differently.”

“Differently?” you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Karina met your gaze, her icy composure softening. “I’ve spent so much of my life doing what I thought was necessary—making hard decisions for the ‘greater good.’ But being around you… it reminded me of who I used to be, before all of this. Before I became... this.”

Jeno stepped closer, his flames dimming but still present. “If you’re having second thoughts, prove it. Walk away.”

Karina looked between you and Jeno, her expression conflicted. For a moment, you thought she might lash out again, but instead, she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a pair of sleek, metallic gauntlets.

“Here,” she said, tossing them to you. You caught them instinctively, the cool metal humming faintly in your hands. “They’ll help you control your powers. Keep you from accidentally frying someone. I was supposed to give them to you after you joined us.”

You stared at the gauntlets, then back at her. “Then why are you giving me these now?”

Karina smiled faintly, a flicker of genuine warmth breaking through her usual cool demeanor. “Because I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. Power without control... it’ll destroy you. And I’d rather not see that happen.”

Jeno crossed his arms, his fiery gaze narrowing. “This doesn’t absolve you of everything you’ve done.”

“I know,” Karina said, her voice quiet. She turned to you, her expression serious. “If things get worse. Like if the Hellfire Club comes after you. Call me. I’ll help you.”

“Why?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

Karina gave you a small, almost sad smile. “Because despite everything, I care about you, Y/N. More than I expected to.”

With that, she turned on her heel and began walking toward the factory’s exit.

“You’ll never stop looking over your shoulder if you go back to them,” Jeno called after her, his voice hard.

Karina paused at the doorway, glancing back over her shoulder. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But we don’t all get to ride off into the sunset with a gorgeous woman who can manipulate electricity by our side, do we, Rider?”

And then she was gone, disappearing into the night like a ghost.

You stood there, clutching the gauntlets tightly, your heart a storm of emotions. Jeno stepped closer, his flames dimming until they extinguished completely, leaving him in his human form.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was true. “I think so. For now.”

He gave you a small, tentative smile. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

The factory was a wreck. The floors were scorched, the walls cracked from the battles you fought, and the lingering scent of burnt rubber and ozone filled the air. You and Jeno both stood in the aftermath, looking like a pair of survivors who had just stumbled out of a warzone—except, in your case, the war was against a woman who could turn into a diamond. And, you know, manipulate minds. No big deal.

You winced as you flexed your wrist, the burn from a stray blast still making your skin tingle. Glancing at Jeno, you noticed his own set of injuries: deep cuts across his arms and a nasty gash on his forehead, not to mention his previously pristine jacket now reduced to ash and scorched fabric. Classic Jeno, always wearing the most expensive thing in a junkyard brawl.

“Hey, so…” you began, shifting uncomfortably as you tried to ignore the awkward silence hanging between you two. “About all the… revelations tonight.”

Jeno shot you a sideways glance, and you could see the weight of everything that had happened sinking in. The Spirit of Vengeance had left him, so at least he wasn’t looking like a flaming skull for now, but you could still see the lingering guilt in his eyes. The man was a walking metaphor for a storm. Wild, unpredictable, and, apparently, in need of a good therapist.

“Yeah, you don’t say,” he muttered, rubbing his head. “So, uh, what now? Do we pretend that didn’t happen? Or is the whole ‘electricity-generating mutant’ thing a forever deal?”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “You think I just woke up one day and thought, ‘Hey, I’ll be a walking lightning rod for the rest of my life’?”

Jeno winced as he straightened up, his movements stiff. “No, I didn’t, but... you know. Seems like that’s exactly what’s happening.”

“Great. I’ll add it to my ‘What I Did Wrong Today’ list,” you muttered, feeling the familiar surge of frustration rise in you. But it wasn’t just at your powers. It was at the one thing you couldn’t quite shake off: Jeno.

You narrowed your eyes at him, your tone suddenly more serious. “And what about you, huh? Still think popping pills and riding a bike through fire is a good coping mechanism? Especially since you’re apparently made of fire now?”

Jeno flinched, and for a moment, it felt like the old Jeno was retreating back into his shell—the one he built to protect himself from all the things he couldn’t face. He kicked the ground, looking at his scuffed boots. “I didn’t— It’s just…” He sighed, unable to finish the sentence.

“Jeno,” you said, voice softer now. You placed a hand on his shoulder, though he didn’t meet your eyes. “I’m serious. If you want to stay in my life. If you really care about me at all. You need to get help. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Jeno glanced up at you, his usually cocky demeanor replaced with something a little more vulnerable. “I know,” he said quietly. “I know I’ve messed up. And I promised you I’d get better. But—” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “You’re right. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I don’t want to lose you.”

You took a deep breath, your frustration dissipating just slightly. The old, familiar bond you shared was still there, tangled in with the new, raw emotions. You nodded, but added with a small, teasing smirk, “If you ever try to pop a pill in front of me again, I’ll use you as a lightning rod. Got it?”

Jeno gave a half-laugh, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. “Got it. No more pills. Just the occasional dramatic motorcycle crash for old time’s sake.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s so much better,” you deadpanned. “But seriously, Jeno, I can’t help you if you don’t help yourself first. I won’t watch you burn up from the inside out.”

He met your gaze, the flicker of sincerity in his eyes making you pause. “I’ll try, Y/N. I swear. I’m tired of hurting myself—and you.”

You nodded again, feeling the weight of the conversation settle into your bones. “Good. And, uh, while we’re on the subject—if you ever want to not be on fire for five seconds, I’ve got these new gauntlets that could help with the whole ‘literal fire hazard’ thing. Maybe we should figure out how to duplicate them.”

Jeno’s eyes flicked to the gauntlets you were still holding, raising an eyebrow. “You think those are going to keep me from turning into a human torch?”

“Well, they won’t stop you from being a hot mess,” you quipped, “but they might help with the literal hot mess part. Try them on. See if they can cool you off. But give them back, I don’t wanna electrocute you later.”

Jeno chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re something else.” He pulled the gauntlets on with a shrug. They fit perfectly, “Better than getting burned alive, I guess.”

“That’s the spirit,” you said with a small smile. “See? We’re making progress.”

He gave a small, half-smile in return. “One step at a time.”

The first few days after the chaos in the factory felt like the world had hit the pause button. You were still grappling with the full weight of what had happened—the fight, Karina’s departure, and the truth about your powers. But more than that, you were trying to figure out how to not burn down the nearest building while you practiced controlling your mutant abilities.

Your bedroom had turned into an impromptu testing ground for your electrical powers, and you were starting to actually feel like a walking lightning rod now. The first time you accidentally zapped the toaster, you almost burned down the kitchen. It’s fine, you told yourself. I’ll just keep a fire extinguisher in every room.

"Okay, just breathe," you muttered, staring at the lamp in front of you. Your hands crackled with electrical energy. "Focus. You’re not going to fry this lamp into oblivion. You’ve got this."

The lamp flickered. Then, with a sudden snap, it exploded in a burst of light.

"Okay, maybe not. Plan B: Try not to set anything on fire this time," you groaned, rubbing your forehead. You glanced at the charred remnants of your lamp. Great. I’m a walking disaster.

Meanwhile, in the next room, Jeno was wrestling with his own set of issues. His recovery wasn’t as simple as just kicking a habit. It was as if his very soul had to unlearn years of reckless behavior and self-destruction. And while he was committed to getting better, you had a sneaking suspicion that his journey would involve more than a few missteps along the way.

You walked into the living room, where Jeno was sitting on the couch, staring at a glass of water like it held the answers to all of life’s problems.

"How’s it going, big guy?" you asked, leaning in the doorway.

Jeno glanced up and sighed dramatically. "I’m just sitting here, contemplating the universe. You know, the usual."

"Right. The deep, soul-searching kind of contemplation." You gave him a pointed look. "Or are you trying to convince yourself that water can’t be addictive?"

He shot you a dry look. "Very funny. But no, I’m actually just trying to make sure I don’t relapse into firing up my bike for no reason."

You raised an eyebrow. "And that’s going well, I assume?"

"Actually," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender, "I’m being good. No fire, no bike stunts, just... boring old rehab."

"Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a way to be extra dramatic about it. It’s your brand."

Jeno smirked, the hint of his old self shining through. "Yeah, well, I’m trying to unbrand myself."

You chuckled. "Good luck with that. I’m pretty sure the Ghost Rider brand is hard to shake."

Jeno exhaled through his nose, rubbing his forehead. "I hate that name."

You threw your hands up. "What? It’s catchy!"

"Catchy? It sounds like I’m auditioning for a cheesy horror movie," he grumbled.

"But the cool demon guy gave you it."

Jeno gave you a playful glare. "And he wants me to exterminate every sinful person in this world, so is he really ‘cool’?"

You shrugged, smiling. "I’m just trying to make sure you don’t fall into your bad habits again. Humor is the only thing that gets me through this madness."

Jeno stared at you, a mix of amusement and sincerity on his face. "Thanks, Y/N. Really. I... I don’t know what I’d do without you."

You softened, though you couldn’t resist throwing in a final jab. "Probably set something on fire, knowing you."

"Don’t tempt me," Jeno warned with a grin.

"Okay, okay," you relented, holding up your hands. "I’ll stop. But hey, how about we both try and figure this out without burning anything down, deal?"

Jeno looked at you, a little more serious now. "Deal."

And so, you began this new chapter, with a growing sense of purpose. You and Jeno were both trying to reclaim control over your lives, and though it wasn’t easy, it was at least a little bit more bearable with each other’s help.

As for you, well, you still had a lot to learn about controlling your powers. But you figured you could start small, maybe with not blowing up your appliances. After all, if you could survive your own chaotic life, maybe saving the world wasn’t that far out of reach.

The night was cool, but the air still carried the buzz of the day’s chaos. The city sprawled out before you, lights flickering in the distance, the world oblivious to the storm that had just passed through. You and Jeno stood side by side in the parking lot, where the remnants of your battle and struggles were already fading into the distance.

Jeno’s bike sat next to you, the engine idling with that low growl that had always gotten your heart racing—before you knew all the trouble it would bring. You felt the familiar charge in the air as your hands crackled with electric energy, but it was different now. Controlled.

“Well, this is... weird,” you said, tapping the side of your gauntlets and watching the sparks dance around your fingertips.

Jeno shot you a sidelong glance, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, you being the dangerous one now. What’s next? You’re gonna start taking over the world?"

You rolled your eyes. “World domination? Please. I’ll start with not burning down my apartment.”

Jeno gave you a knowing look. “One step at a time, right?”

He mounted his bike and revved the engine, the sound echoing through the empty streets. You followed suit, stepping onto the back of his bike with a practiced ease that only came from years of friendship—and more than a few questionable decisions. 

As Jeno revved the engine again, you looked at the skyline one last time, feeling the electric hum of your powers simmer beneath your skin.

"You know," Jeno said, breaking the silence as his hand gripped the handlebars tighter, "I think I’ve got a name for you."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh, no. I’m not falling for this again."

"No, seriously. You need a name," he insisted, glancing at you with that same cocky grin. "Surge. It fits. You’ve got the whole ‘electricity’ vibe going on."

You stared at him for a moment, and then—after a deep, soul-searching pause—let out a dramatic sigh. “Surge? Seriously?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” he said with a shrug, clearly pleased with himself. "It’s got that ‘superhero’ ring to it."

You immediately shoved him lightly, making him almost lose his balance. "Shut up, Jeno. That’s the worst name I’ve ever heard."

“Come on, it’s not that bad!” he protested, his laughter echoing in the night. "Alright, alright, we’ll work on it. But you can’t deny it—Surge has a nice ring to it."

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Just drive, Jeno. You’re lucky I’m not zapping you off this bike right now.”

“Okay, okay, you win.” Jeno started the bike and, with a final glance toward the horizon, sped off into the night, the flames of his chain lighting up the road ahead.

The wind whipped through your hair, the flames of Ghost Rider and the crackling electricity of your powers illuminating the streets as you rode side by side. The world still had its dangers, but right now, the night felt endless. 

“Like would our ship name be Surge Rider or Ghur—”

“Shut the fuck up and drive.”

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

[its-luna-noel]

bellesa house

episode 1, satoru & you (sensual)

"Welcome to Bellesa House, where we let performers tell us who they want to have sex with and why." pornstar!jjk men x pornstar!reader

warnings: 18+, MDNI, f!reader, pornstar!au, older reader & younger gojo (like mid-30s and mid-20s respectively), based on bellesa house, sensuality, sensual porn

word count: 2.8k next: episode 2, suguru & you

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: hi there, here's another fic idea i just couldn't shake, based on bellesa house, a porn project w/ the above description. most scenes are split into one of three categories: sensual, passionate, or rough; so, each chapter will also be labeled as such! (if you're a porn person and haven't checked out bellesa, this is my psa). next up is geto:) thanks for reading!

You’re propped up in a bed with half a dozen pillows, dressed in blue lacy lingerie, staring down a camera on a tripod.

It’s something you’ve done hundreds of times.

You give the camera your performer name, offering a coy little smile that’s become your signature. You’ve been doing porn for years now, and when the production team came to you to pilot a new concept – to play house with another performer of your choosing – you, of course, chose Satoru Gojo.

A young buck on the scene, he’s only been in a couple dozen videos total, but he’s already the new heartthrob at the studio, with his big, charming smile and pretty blue eyes. You’ve heard he’s good, too, fantastic on camera and a sweetheart off it.

Satoru chose you because he thinks you’re hot.

Hey, he’s always had a thing for older women, and he knows you’re not that much older than him, but it still makes him hard to think of what you could do with all that experience. It also feels good to know you want to fuck him too as he climbs into the bed for his own interview.

“So,” begins the director, smiling past the camera to the young rising star on the bed, “how are you feeling, knowing the first time you meet your co-star will be here on camera?”

Satoru shrugs his muscular shoulders, smiling a little. “It’s not that different from what I usually do; most of the time we meet on set and an hour later we’re in the middle of a scene. So, I’m not too uncomfortable with it.”

“How does it feel to be working with an industry favorite?”

He chuckles, then, his smile growing as he lowers his eyes, playing almost bashful. “That’s a little more intimidating, I guess. Obviously I’ve seen her work; I just hope I can live up to the great stuff she puts out.”

The video cuts to your interview, to your teasing smile at the camera as you lean back casually against the pillows, looking decadent in your lingerie. The director speaks again from behind the camera, “So, when we bring him in here, do you think you guys will talk, will you get straight to it…?”

You hum thoughtfully, that same smile still curling your lips as you tilt your head. “The young ones are always so eager to get started and skip the awkward introductions, so I’m guessing we’ll just dive in. But who knows! Maybe he’ll surprise me.”

“Alright, well, the next time that door opens, he’ll be coming in, and you guys can do whatever you want!” Your director gives you a supportive thumbs up from behind the camera; she trusts you to make whatever you do together good. You’ve never let her down before. Then, “Action!”

The sleek white door swings open, and there stands Satoru, feigning a casual air with his hands in the pockets of his joggers. He’s got that smile on his face, and you can’t help but return the expression as you wave him in encouragingly. “Hi!” you greet enthusiastically, propping yourself up on your knees on the bed.

Your comforting air seems to put him a little more at ease; he walks in, easing himself onto the edge of the bed beside you. His pretty blue eyes take in the set of lingerie you’re wearing – something that matches those eyes. You look amazing, so fucking sexy he’s already growing hard at the sight of you. Then he looks back up at your face, finding you still smiling, and he smiles back before leaning in slightly. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says softly, and you both giggle a little, clearly letting your nerves run a little higher now that you’re meeting each other for the first time.

You lean in, too, still laughing softly, until your nose brushes his. “Nice to meet you, too,” you whisper, and then you part your lips, inviting him to meet you halfway.

He does, his lips pushing against yours, already hard and desperate. You can tell he’s still a little nervous, diving right in instead of pacing himself for the camera, and so you put a gentle hand on the side of his face, fingers stroking the strong line of his jaw. You’re trying not to intimidate him, but that’s hard when you have over a thousand videos under your belt and he has maybe 20. He feels your touch and understands, wants to follow your lead, so he tries to shake himself and slow down.

It’s just a scene, doesn’t matter that she’s the sexiest and most experienced co-star he’s ever had.

His lips slow against yours, now taking the time to taste your mouth, your minty fresh breath and the berry chapstick you have on. Your tongue is phenomenal, slipping against his with practiced ease as you lick into his mouth, and he licks right back with the vitality and enthusiasm of a young performer.

You’ve almost forgotten what that spark feels like. A similar one, after years of being dormant, flares to like deep in your belly.

You kiss for a couple minutes before you let your hand wander from the side of his face, down his neck, to his torso. His chest and belly are muscular under his t-shirt, and you can feel every subtle tightening of those muscles while you touch him. His hands follow, coming to rest on your bare arms, bringing you closer to his body. You arch your back, curving into his chest while he continues to kiss you, and then you move your touch from his belly down to the hard bulge in the front of his sweatpants.

You can tell by feel that he’s one of the bigger men you’ve worked with.

He lets you touch him unhindered for a few moments before he brings his own fingers down to stroke between your thighs, feeling a spreading wetness on the thin fabric of your panties. You both focus on heavy petting for a while, getting each other aroused while your mouths continue moving against each other.

You have to hand it to him; he’s good at what he does.

Once you’re finally wet and feeling ready to take the scene further, you gently push him backwards onto the bed, crawling over him until you’re straddling his hips. You pull away from the kiss enough to smile down at him, and he smiles back, seeming dazzled by you as you dip your fingers into the elastic waistband of his joggers. You pull those down first, and he helps you get them free of his ankles before you toss the fabric aside onto the floor.

You can see the imprint of his dick against his boxers, and now you’re pretty sure he’s one of the biggest you’ve seen. It’s a pleasant surprise; no wonder he’s a rising star on the scene.

You lean forward, pressing your cheek to his thigh, nuzzling playfully and grinning up at him. “You ready?” you ask, for his benefit, knowing it’ll be edited out in post.

He chuckles quietly, and your tummy flutters at the sound; he’s got a good laugh, too. He brushes your hair into one hand, gently guiding your mouth towards the straining bulge of his cock. “Ready,” he confirms.

You grip the waistband of his tight, Calvin Klein boxer briefs and slowly, achingly, pull them down his legs.

You let yourself take a good look as you toss aside the fabric, assessing how much work you’ll have to put in; a lot, is the answer. He’s massive, long and pink and beautiful. Mouthwatering. You’re practically drooling as you settle between his legs and, glancing up at him through your lashes, let your tongue slip out from between your lips and take a taste.

He lets out a soft sigh, eyes watching your every move as you start licking his tip, short little laps that drive him crazy. His hand tightens in your hair, just enough to signal to you that he’s ready.

Or, he thought he was.

When you lean in and take him in the hot, wet cavern of your mouth, he’s already seeing starts at how fucking good your tongue feels swirling around his head. You bring your hands up and grip the base of his cock, squeezing lightly, before you take him a little deeper.

Satoru can’t hold back moans so whiny it’s almost pathetic; you’re sucking him off so well, both hands stroking his length slowly as your mouth bobs over his blushing tip, cheeks hollowed like you want to suck him dry. Then you move your hands and dive down until he’s shoved as far down your throat as you can take, staying there for a moment as your throat closes down around him on every side. His head drops back to the pillows as he lets out another whine, and then you pull back, hands coming back to his base as you suck the tip.

It feels so fucking good that he’s scared he’s gonna cum already.

So he pulls you off of him, guiding you down onto your belly on the bed. “Arch for me,” he murmurs in your ear, and you do, back arched so beautifully that he can’t wait to watch the tape on his own time and screenshot this pose for him to keep. He grabs the back of his shirt and yanks it off, leaving his muscular body on display for the cameras as he pushes your lacy blue panties to the side, arousal already drenching the thin fabric and sticking it to your pussy.

He hums in delight at the sight of your gorgeous folds, and he leans in, pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your lower lips, like he’s making out with your cunt from behind. You let out a moan into the mattress, arching further to force your hips back into his face. He grins against you before grabbing the flesh of your hips, holding you in place while he pushes deeper, past your outer folds to lick a line of heat from your clit to the lower corner of your pussy. Then he moves his mouth back to your clit, his nose bumping against the wet entrance to your cunt while his tongue laps greedily at it. His hands move down to grab the fat of your ass, thumbs spreading you apart to expose you more to his mouth and eyes while he eats you out from the back.

You’re making such delicious noises, not just for the camera, but because his mouth is just that good. He hums again, this time with your clit against his tongue, before he takes the swollen bundle between his lips and sucks softly. Your hips jolt against his face, and he lets go with a lewd pop, before flicking his tongue over your clit again, taking his time to work you up towards your orgasm.

“Oh my god…�� you breathe, lashes fluttering as your eyes close to the ecstasy. “Feels so good…”

“Yeah?” he mumbles into your cunt, eyes closed, too, as he tastes how fucking sweet you are. “Want something to cum on?”

You moan at his words, hips bucking backwards again, like you’re trying to chase down your high… He pulls away before you can get there, grinning cheekily when you whimper. “Aww,” he croons, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before grabbing your hips and rolling you over onto your back, “it’s okay. I’ll make you cum; I promise.”

“You better,” you tease back, reaching up to slide the straps of your bodysuit off your shoulders and down your arms, pooling the lace around your waist, “or I’ll be very disappointed in you.”

He takes the fabric the rest of the way off, still grinning as he looks at your perfect body, one he’s seen in dozens of videos with his hand wrapped around his own cock, making himself cum to the sound of your moans. It’s a dream come true to be filming with you, and he lets himself remember that fact before he leans over you, reaching down to align himself with your dripping, fluttering entrance. He glances into your eyes for a moment, checking that you’re alright, and the look in your eyes is such a clear affirmative that he can’t hold back anymore.

He pushes inside you slowly, both of you letting out soft, broken moans in unison as he sheaths himself in you.

Then, once he’s fully seated inside you, your cunt squeezing around him, so wet and warm and fucking perfect, he pulls back and starts to fuck you slowly, sensually.

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his hips, and your heels press into his ass with every thrust, holding him that much closer, that much deeper. He groans, lips parted as he pants softly, his hips rocking in smooth, fluid motions.

Your lips are parted, too, as you reach down to rub your clit with the pads of your fingers, drawing aching circles– Satoru bumps your hand away and takes over for you. “Let me,” he pants, watching your reaction as your head falls back against the pillows with another moan. He groans at the sight and leans in, placing soft, adoring kisses to the column of your throat, to the edge of your jaw, to the curve of your cheek… All the while rubbing those perfect circles on your clit.

Your pussy is starting to clench around him. “Oh my god,” you whine, throwing your head back, and the performance isn’t even for the cameras anymore, it’s for him, to let him know how good he’s making you feel. Every thrust puts him right at your g-spot, and his fingers have the perfect pressure on your clit, a catastrophic combination of sensations that’s quickly sending you towards the edge. “Please don’t stop.”

He keeps kissing towards the corner of your mouth. “Cum for me,” he says, and then he presses his lips to yours, claiming your tongue with his as he fucks you through your orgasm. You moan and whine into the kiss, your cunt clenching and spasming around his cock, and he groans against your mouth at the feeling of you sucking him even further inside you.

Fuck, he’s not gonna last like this.

So he rolls you over onto your tummy again, even though your legs are still weak and shaky from your climax, and presses you down into the mattress with gentle hands. He spreads your legs for you, angling your hips right where he wants you, and then he leans over your body, palms planted firmly on either side of your shoulders to hold his weight above you before he starts rocking back into your perfect fucking pussy.

His shoulders are heaving with the effort to hold back, to not cum after two seconds like this, but his eyes are trained on how your ass conforms to the shape of his hips with every thrust, and the curve of your back looks like the perfect bullseye for his cum–

He groans, pulling out before he can accidentally empty himself inside you. Then he strokes himself, his hand pumping over the wet, sensitive head of his cock as he stares at your fluttering pussy, wishing he could’ve cum there– maybe next time– With a choking sound and breathless moans, he watches pearly ropes of his seed shoot out over the smooth skin of your back.

When he catches his breath, he can’t help but pull up short. Wait, next time??

~

Once you’re showered and dressed in street clothes again, walking out of the studio with your bag over your shoulder, you hear a familiar voice behind you. “Hey! One sec.”

You turn, a smile already on your face as you recognize Satoru’s voice. His hair is still wet from his shower, too, hanging damp in front of his shining eyes. “Hey,” you respond, smiling as he walks over. “Great job today. You’ve got a great career ahead of you, you know.”

“I know,” he says, not arrogantly, just as a fact. But he doesn’t want to talk about that now. He looks a little nervous as he shifts from one foot to the other. “I just wanted to say thanks for…choosing me to work with you today. I had a lot of fun.”

Your smile spreads a little wider. “Me, too,” you tell him, and then you turn your back, because you’re already late for dinner with your friends. “See you around!”

“Wait!” he calls again, and you stop, surprised. You turn and blink up at him.

“Uh, this might sound dumb…but can I get your number?”

thanks for reading! -luna xx link to ao3 | next: suguru & you

[knivestothroats]

The Professionals - Allowances

The Professionals is a crossover of In the Woods Somewhere by me and Professional//Victim by @victimeyez In which Tommy tries to spend his allowance CW: long term captivity, unfair rules

Fletcher was cooking, rolling a pan of mixed vegetables around in a blend of butter, balsamic vinegar, and white wine. They heard Tommy carefully padding in behind them, giving him a glance before returning their focus to their work. 

“Don’t eat too much, dinner is almost ready and I made enough for you.”

“It smells really good, thank you, Fletcher,” Tommy murmured back. “Can I help?”

“No, just come back when I whistle.”

“Oh, okay, thank you.”

They could feel him hovering behind them. He didn’t leave, instead opting to clutch a few pieces of paper hands to his chest and wait awkwardly. Fletcher gave him a minute to say his piece, draining the pasta in the sink before returning it to the pan. Still, Tommy waited. They felt an itch of annoyance.

“Do you need something, or did you just think I needed supervision?”

Tommy tucked a stray curl behind his ear, giving a nervous laugh. “Ah, no, of course not. I just was thinking that maybe, well, I just was wondering if, um–”

“Spit it out.”

Tommy swallowed and forced himself to take a deep breath. He didn’t want to invoke Fletcher’s ire with his waffling. 

“Um, would it be okay for me to ask about, maybe sometime talking about my allowance…?”

Fletcher poured in ingredients purely by feel. It wasn’t an exact science, but they were comfortable in the kitchen. They stirred, taste testing as they went. 

“What about it.”

“Uh…” Tommy rubbed his arms to soothe himself, but Fletcher could tell he was anxious. Then again, “anxious” was pretty much his base state. 

“It’s been, you know, several weeks, and I was thinking about things I might be able to spend it on.”

“It must have slipped my mind. Have you finished paying me back for your music?” Fletcher had allowed Tommy to “buy” an old walkman, headphones, and some tapes from them. 

They had pressed the bundle into his hands, which Tommy received eagerly. He looked over his meager possessions with a look of awe, like he still couldn’t believe he was actually allowed to own something.

���Twenty bucks.” Tommy nodded eagerly, feeling the worn pad of one of the headphones between two fingers with reverence. “Enjoy.”

Fletcher caught the tip of his chin with one finger, pushing his face up to force eye contact. Where Buck had often challenged their gaze, Tommy avoided it, his eyes flicking side to side before nervously meeting their gaze. 

“Hey. If I call for you, and you don’t come, because you were listening to music? They’re gone. Understood?”

Tommy looked hurt by the threat, his eyes darting back down and to the side, but readily agreed. “Yes, Fletcher.” 

“Good,” they had told him, and left it at that. So far Tommy had kept to his word, often wearing the headphones askew to help keep his ears open when he was set off on his tasks. 

“Those are paid off now. By - by my calendar. Thank you, again.” Fletcher hummed a noncommittal sound of acknowledgement. 

“I was just wondering if, if you have thought about it, how that kind of system might work? Like…is it just things I can pick up on a supply run, or buy online or– or that sort of thing. Just so I know what I can maybe, save up for.”

They turned to face him, leaning against the counter and folding their arms. Tommy had settled at the table, a pencil in hand at the ready over his little stack of notes. 

“I guess I could save a little time for you to look around the grocery store next time we are on a supply run. I’ll consider online purchases, but nothing comes to the house, so you’ll have to wait for a supply run to collect it from the PO box in town. And you know the computer is off limits to you. I will allow a little time to look online, but only under supervision.” Tommy scribbled down notes as Fletcher spoke.

“You can take notes, I can appreciate wanting to keep them in mind, but just know that doesn’t mean it’s law. Everything is subject to change, of course.” Tommy nodded as he finished writing, looking back up when he was done. 

“What…kind of things am I allowed to buy?”

Fletcher returned to stirring, mostly just to make sure the last things were mixed evenly. 

“I don’t know. What do you want to buy?”

“A bike? I could just ride around the grounds a little.”

Fletcher shook their head. “So you can try to take off on me? No, no bikes.”

“Okay…” Fletcher heard him scribbling something out behind them. “How about a skateboard?”

Fletcher let out a hmph of a laugh. “What did I just say? Same problem, no wheels.”

“But – I’m really bad at skateboarding, I couldn’t go anywhere,” Tommy whined a little. 

“All the more reason not to do it. Besides, I don’t need you falling off and injuring yourself, you’re no use to me if you can’t work.” 

Tommy swallowed, his answer delayed. “Oh,” was all he gave, and his voice was quieter. Fletcher didn’t really mean to call him useless, they just hadn’t phrased it right. It wouldn’t have bothered anyone else, but Tommy was so damn sensitive. They rolled their eyes.

“Let’s just say, no vehicles. Add that to your notes. What else you got?”

Tommy made some notes and crossed out another line. “How about clothes?”

“I gave you clothes,” Fletcher said bluntly.

“Yeah, I mean - I’m grateful for that, of course. Just – I don’t know, my own…style? Some of them don’t really fit…” 

“I just think you need to be practical over fashionable,” Fletcher argued. “You’re living and working in the woods; it’s not like you’re going anywhere you need to dress up or show off. Unless you’re planning on giving Buck a fashion show.” 

Tommy blanched like Fletcher had caught him doing something bad. He looked down and crossed out another line curtly. 

“Okay…well…” Tommy considered his list. Fletcher could tell he was getting frustrated, could hear a little anger in his voice in spite of his attempts to swallow it down. He could be pissed all he wanted, Fletcher would almost encourage it just to see a little spirit, but getting an allowance at all was generous. Fletcher would let him spend it when he thought of something actually worth spending it on. And with a solid paycheck of just five dollars a week, it’s not like he had many options. 

“It’s still a while away, so I could save up for it, but I’d like to get Buck something for Christmas.” Tommy seemed determined on this one. 

Fletcher groaned, finishing the last touches for dinner. “Don’t do that.”

Tommy let out an impatient huff through his nose. “Why not?”

“Buck lives out in the –” Fletcher had to stop themself from calling it the real world. “Buck is free out there, he has his own job and makes his own money. Don’t waste yours on something he could buy himself for like, a few hours of work. Besides, he already gets enough of my money, he doesn’t need any more.”

Tommy rose to his feet, shoving his chair out of his way. “What’s the fucking point of giving me an allowance if you’re never going to let me use it anyways?!” 

Fletcher turned at the commotion to find Tommy visibly seething with his notes crumpled in his hands. His eyes were dark, glaring at Fletcher with an open hostility that he’d never let slip before. 

Fletcher rolled their eyes. “Stop acting like a child.”

“Then stop treating me like one!” Tommy shouted, and with a sudden fury, he drove a fist right into the wall. The drywall swallowed his hand down to the wrist, and when he pulled it out, little chips and debris rained down from the hole in Fletcher’s kitchen wall. 

Fletcher was so surprised that Tommy had actually lashed out that they stood there, their mouth agape for a moment. Tommy retracted his fist robotically to look at it, pale with powder from the drywall. Blood was starting to ooze out of a couple split knuckles. He was shaking with anger, his shoulders moving up and down with fast, excited breaths.

“Go to your room!” Fletcher snapped back. They pinched the bridge of their nose and sighed. “Goddamn it, you make me sound like a mom. Get the fuck out of my sight, I’ll deal with you later.” 

As pissed as he was, Tommy stalked off in the direction of his room. Fletcher massaged their temples, staring at the fist-sized gape that Tommy had left. That little shit. 

“Something smells good,” Billy commented, walking into the kitchen, then, “Whoa.” He spotted the hole in the wall and looked at Fletcher, throwing a thumb over his shoulder at it. 

“Redecorating?”

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr

[animentality]

I've always harboured a mild dislike for x reader stuff. I never really held it against people because I don't have the time to antagonise them, but it was so upsetting when every time I opened the fandom tag and all I saw were posts and posts and posts of bland x reader stuff that clearly is ooc with no real substance to them at all. So many of the RP blogs seem the same way.

As someone who tries to make analysis posts and art for the same fandom, it is disheartening when I spend hours and hours on an analysis post about a character and it maybe hits 120 notes while an OOC x reader of the same character soars to the thousands. Maybe it's selfish of me to say but I say it anyway.

The fandom is full of youngsters and I never felt comfortable voicing my opinion for the same because it just felt wrong to tell kids to stop existing in communities. But the amount of times I've been put down for shipping characters with each other rather than myself is an honestly surprising number.

Um. I don't really know where I was going with this.

But your post definitely opened my eyes a little bit on even why I dislike x reader so much. It's sinking in a little bit. My hatred for OOC stuff seeps into this, I suppose. So I wanted to say that. Yeah. I agree with you.

Thank you for saying it.

Signed,

A fellow analyser / artist / fanfic writer lmao

— @lunarcloak

I get you, man.

I know self shippers have always existed.

I don't mind them. If that's how you enjoy the media, then fine.

However.

I just don't think that the sudden rise of self shippers over fan analysis and shipping is a good sign.

I think it comes from a lack of media literacy and willingness to actually engage with a piece of fiction. At least shippers and fan analysts actually talk about the world and plot itself.

self shippers imagine themselves dating a character in an au that is completely disconnected from the story, and acting in a way that's not even close to how they are in canon.

which to me is like... you have a creative writing prompt but it's not a story you're actually engaging with. someone showed you a picture of a handsome man and said write a story about how he'd kiss you.

and it's like... ok. there's no crime in just being horny, but... when that's all a fandom is... I don't consider it a fandom, it's just a masturbation fantasy.

I thought the whole point of fiction was to dive into the human experience and try and understand ourselves better. See the perspectives of others. Live vicariously in another person's shoes.

Fan analysis about themes? Perfect. You're thinking. You're feeling. You're articulating. You're growing as a person as you decide what you like or don't like, or try to put together puzzle pieces so that the whole picture makes sense. Shipping? You're imagining scenarios. You're bending canon to fit your interests. You are developing your own ability to write characters, and growing as an artist and a writer.

But self shipping...?

Eh.

You're writing, I guess, but when you reduce yourself to just... idk, some generic girl that Gojo decides is the Bella to his Edward... I mean I'm glad you're happy and all.

But how happy are you

Are you happy at all, or are you frustrated by this aching loneliness deep in your gut that you just don't understand, and it never quite feels whole bc you keep cramming nothing into it.

And it's not the loneliness or the social awkwardness that I'm criticizing here ok, shippers and fan analysts can be just as lonely. I just think that the human relationship to art should be confusion and appreciation.

you should be trying to understand others or yourself.

you can insist well what's so wrong with escapism? why does everything have to be an intellectual exercise?

it doesn't have to be ... but there's a reason people feel so hollow watching marvel movies.

art without substance is consumption. it's a distraction from your own humanity, it is not anything more.

not to you, anyway.

and I don't know.

that's really sad.

I've made so many friends through ships and babbling about canon and gushing about narrative beats.

I feel like I got something out of fandom, if other people force me to see the world in another light. I feel like a story has done its job if it's made me feel something. and it's really done a great job if I feel invested enough to hope two characters smooch.

but self insert?

eh. so you just like the character and think they're hot. that's fine.

not that interesting to talk about either. requires very little analysis on your part.

they just provoke sexual feelings or romantic feelings , which are easiest for you to process, and then you can move on to the next pretty boy you can turn into a Dom.

it irks me, man.

just a tad bit.

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡Hey Siri! 📱

You've ordered: butterscotch ice cream! enjoy!

"But maybe that's the way I feel."

modern au! Sirius Black x reader | word count: 515 words

Summary: your boyfriend is jealous...of your smartphone? 📱

Warnings: none!

Note: very short, silly little drabble i came up with! idk, personally, i thought it was a funny idea.

"Hey Siri, tell me where the nearest coffee shop is."

'The nearest coffee shop is Muggle Brew Bakery and Cafe, 1.5 miles away. Would you like for me to place an order?' your smartphone answered in a timely manner.

"Great! Yes, go ah-!"

"Babe, the nearest coffee shop is Muggle Brew! Want me to order something for you?" your boyfriend, Sirius yelled from the next room.

You had to stifle a laugh, poking your head into your shared bedroom. This often happened since your nickname for him just so happened to be Siri.

"Thanks, Siri already told me." you said, holding up your phone.

"Oh. Of course, a thousand thank you's Siri for helping my girlfriend." Sirius responded in the most sarcastic tone ever.

You rolled your eyes playfully and poked him in his side, getting into bed to cuddle with him.

---

"Hey Siri, what time is it?" You asked as you scribbled something down in your planner.

'The current time is-'

"3:55! It's 3:55 pm, babe." Sirius exclaimed as he slid into the dining room.

You set your pencil down and stared at him for a moment, an endearing smile forming on your lips.

"Did you come all the way here just to beat Siri?"

"What? Pssh! No, that's ridiculous." Sirius said, and as you turned back to your planner, you swore from the corner of your eyes you could see him stick his tongue out at your phone.

You shook your head, laughing to yourself at your boyfriend's adorable behavior.

---

"Siri, can you get me some chips?" you asked as you lounged on the couch.

'Here's what I f-'

"Not you, Siri! Sirius! Siriiii!" You called out, getting up from the couch and going into your room, where Sirius was scrolling through his phone mindlessly.

"Sirius, you didn't hear me calling you? I wanted a bag of chips."

"Why don't you ask Siri to get them for you?"

"Sirius, are you serious right now?"

"Yeah. Go get your phone and ask Siri to get you chips. I'm sure she'll get some delivered or something." he grumbled.

You narrowed your eyes at him before lunging forward and flopping on top of him. A surprised "Oof!" left Sirius as the wind was knocked out of him.

"What the-?"

"1) Siri doesn't have legs to get me chips. 2) Siri is also your nickname. 3) I'm sorry for making you feel like I don't need your help. I'll always need your help and vise versa."

Sirius's stern stare faded immediately as you cupped his face in your hands and kissed his forehead. He hummed, nodding his head, a goofy grin now plastered onto his lips.

"It's okay. I was just messing with you, sweetheart. Some stupid smartphone assistant could never replace the all knowing Sirius." he said, a cocky grin on his face.

"Hey Siri-!" Sirius cut you off by grabbing you in a big bear hug, rolling over to pin you beneath him.

You laughed, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"I guess I won't be needing Siri anymore." 📱

© m00nkissedlover, 2025

[lilimaginebean]

five days — 五日

synopsis: In which Kaiser fell in love with his tattoo artist, or in which Kaiser has only five appointments to convince you to go on a date with him.

note: omg no comment on grammy’s

prev | next

🥀 Day 4

"I don't know what to do with your uncle anymore. I asked him, I begged him, do you know how humiliating that was?" Kaiser said, covering his face in embarrassment.

You chuckled.

When you finally accepted the Emperor's request, he was on cloud nine. But you were there to remind him that life would never be easy for him. After his session, you casually told him that you couldn't go on a date with him until after the sessions, as his uncle has a rule about not dating costumers.

The moment you told him, you could see his soul leaving his body. How could he have been so unlucky? From that day on, whenever he was free, he would visit the studio and ask your uncle.

“Why does it even exist that stupid norm?” he asked confused

"Well... there was a girl who fell in love with a client, they started dating but then she found out he was cheating on her. So in the end, while he was in a tattoo session, the girl just tattooed him with the quote 'useless pig' and we almost got into legal trouble," you admitted, still remembering those frustrating days.

“Oh, it kinda of makes sense” Kaiser admitted, nodding “Still, what shall I do?”

"Maybe just talk honestly, or you could just wait until the last session," you said indifferently as you worked on a detail of the tattoo.

You really hoped he would take the second choice, because you had your final exams this month and you needed to study. Fortunately, his reading on analysing people must have helped him, because he started to rethink everything.

"Yeah, I mean I've been waiting for almost 4 months, it's not so bad to wait another one," he said, noting that he had a match in the next two weeks so the coach would probably add more training sessions.

You smiled at him.

"Well, even if it takes that long, we can talk about it. What do you want to do?" you asked him with a smile, excited just to think about having a date "Maybe... we could do something like arcade? or reading? Oh, I know a reading cafe, you would love it".

Kaiser titled his head, confused.

“Liebling, what are you even saying? I have already planned it” he said firmly

“What?”

He nodded.

"I've got everything planned after the first date, and it's going to be so great that you'll regret not taking me on sooner," Kaiser added proudly.

"Well, tell me how much it cost, and I will pay you half. You know?" you said.

"Have you only gone out with broke guys?" he said, raising an eyebrow, "I'm the one who asked you out, then I'll be the one who invites you to everything".

"Aww, really?" you softened to this comment.

"Yes, and I doubt you would even have the money to pay me half of it," he said in a teasing tone.

You rolled your eyes.

“Such a gentleman you are, in your own way” you said to give a quick look to the clock and see it was already striking 8PM “Oh wow, it’s already time to close the shop

Kaiser stared at the clock.

"It's really late, we should end the session here so you can get home safely," he added as he stood up and helped you tidy up.

Once everything was cleaned up, you both left the studio. You turned off the lights and closed the door to stare at Kaiser.

"So I guess this is goodbye," Kaiser said, still staring at you. His gaze always softened when he stared at you.

"Just one more session, it's not that much," you said, trying to comfort Kaiser.

"Yes, I can already see you thanking me for giving you the best date ever." he said with his eyes closed as if he could imagine that scenario, you hit him softly

"We'll see," you said, coughing softly. The low temperature made your throat a bit sore. Before you could cover your throat with your coat, Kaiser was already wrapping his scarf around your neck, "Thanks… but what about you?"

"Can't you ever thank me and stop asking me? It's nothing, I live near this place, you have a longer walk," he said while tying up your scarf as if you were a child "Also... I won't be able to visit you until the next appointment either, I have work to do," Kaiser admitted while thinking about how he had to take a flight to play a match.

You shook your head to show that you were not bothered.

"Don't worry, we'll meet in a month and I'll give you the scarf that day," you added firmly, while touching the scarf "I'll even wash it."

"You'd better, it's Cashemire." he replied in a serious tone "Anyways, after the next and last session, I will take you in the date. You don't have to do anything, just be ready and pretty." Having said that, Kaiser left you.

But as always, after five steps, Kaiser turned to look at you who were leaving the studio. He stared at you until you faded into the distance. Once you were gone, Kaiser started walking again, thinking about how he really couldn't wait for the date to come.

[nanasrkives]

Navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! haikyuu EP!

── .✦ "ALMOST, ALWAYS" ─ Suna Rintaro

Finally posting about my husband Sunarin content : fluff. soft angst. second chance. 3461 words.

The flickering neon lights of a convenience store sign buzz faintly in the cool night air, casting a dull glow over the mostly empty street. 

The city feels quieter than you remember, or maybe it’s just you—older now, carrying the weight of years that slipped by too fast. You didn’t mean to end up here. You were just passing through town, visiting family, but your feet wandered on their own, drawn to familiar streets and forgotten corners. The nostalgia is almost suffocating, the kind that makes your chest ache in ways you thought you’d outgrown.

The bell above the door jingles as you step inside. The harsh fluorescent lights make everything feel too bright, too sharp. You drift toward the snack aisle without thinking, fingers trailing over shelves until they land on a familiar bag of chips. A small, wry smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

Old habits.

But then—

“That’s still your go-to, huh?” You freeze. That voice.

Turning slowly, your heart stutters in a way that feels painfully familiar. There he stands—Suna Rintaro. Taller than you remember, sharp features softened only slightly by time. His hair’s a little messier, his expression the same unreadable calm, but his eyes—they’re exactly as you remember. A muted green that used to catch the light during lazy afternoons in the gym, the same ones you never quite managed to look at for too long without feeling your chest tighten.

“Rintaro,” you breathe before you can stop yourself, his name slipping out like muscle memory. He smirks, a small tilt of his lips. “Didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

Neither did you.

Third year of high school,

Your phone buzzes with another message from Atsumu: "Hurry up, practice is starting!" 

You roll your eyes, quickening your pace toward the gym. The gym is loud—sneakers squeaking against polished floors, the sharp slap of volleyballs, Atsumu’s voice carrying above the rest like it always does. You’re sitting on the bleachers, pretending to focus on your notes, but your eyes keep drifting.

To him.

Suna Rintarou leans against the wall, one arm resting lazily on his knee, his hair slightly damp with sweat. He’s not even trying, and he still looks—cool. Effortlessly cool in that way that makes your chest ache.

You tell yourself it’s just a crush. Harmless. Temporary.

But when his eyes flick up and meet yours across the gym, your heart betrays you. “Hey,” he says casually after practice, slinging his bag over his shoulder. You swallow down the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. I like you. Instead, you smile and say, “Hey.”

You wonder if he can hear the way your heart races.

You manage to find your voice before the silence stretches too long.

“Didn’t expect to see you here either,” you say, trying to sound casual, like your heart isn’t beating in your throat. You hold up the bag of chips as if it explains something. “Old habits, I guess.”

Rintarou steps closer, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, the same nonchalant posture he carried back in high school. But there’s something different now—a faint undercurrent of maturity, of time passed. He nods toward the snack. “You used to get those before every exam. Said it was your ‘good luck charm.’’ You blink, surprised he remembers. “Didn’t think you’d still remember that,” you murmur.

Rintarou shrugs, but his eyes linger on you a second longer than necessary. “Guess some things stick.” The conversation feels like walking a tightrope—balanced between what’s being said and everything that isn’t.

“So… what are you doing here?” you ask, needing to fill the space between you. “Came back for a visit,” he says simply. “Thought I’d check out the old places.” You nod, unsure of what to say next. The years have made him harder to read—or maybe you’ve just forgotten how.

Rintarou tilts his head slightly, his gaze steady. “You busy right now?” Your breath catches for a fraction of a second. “Not really.” “Wanna take a walk?”

It’s simple. Casual. But your chest feels anything but.

“Sure,” you reply, slipping the bag of chips into your basket like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The sun is low, casting long shadows over the empty gym. 

Practice ended an hour ago, but you’d stayed behind under the pretense of finishing some notes for class. In reality, you were just waiting. Rintarou’s still there, lying flat on the floor with one arm thrown over his eyes, earbuds dangling loosely from his phone.

You gather your courage like fragile glass, standing and walking over to him. Your heart hammers with every step. “Hey,” you say softly. He peeks up at you, lazy green eyes meeting yours. “What’s up?” You sit down beside him, cross-legged, pretending to pick at the floor. “Nothing. Just… didn’t feel like going home yet.” He hums in agreement, eyes drifting back to the ceiling.

The words are right there. I like you. They’re so close you can almost taste them. But instead, you say, “Do you ever wonder what we’ll be like after high school?” Rintarou turns his head slightly, considering. “Dunno. Guess I’ll figure it out when I get there.” You laugh softly, a little breathless. “You’re so chill about everything.” His lips twitch in a faint smirk. “Not everything.”

Your heart skips.

You almost ask what do you mean? You almost tell him how you feel.

But the moment passes, slipping through your fingers like sand.

The night air is crisp as you walk side by side, the city humming softly around you. 

There’s a comfortable quiet between you, but underneath it, a tension you both pretend not to notice. Rintarou breaks the silence first.

“Funny how nothing’s really changed,” he says. “This street, that convenience store… even you.” You glance at him. “I’ve changed.” He looks at you then, really looks, and it feels like standing under a spotlight. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “But not the important parts.”

Your heart stumbles.

You stop walking, turning to face him fully. The words rise in your throat, unsteady but undeniable. “Back in high school,” you start, your voice softer now, “there was something I never said.” Rintarou doesn’t look surprised. If anything, he looks like he’s been waiting for this. “Me too,” he replies simply.

You exhale a shaky laugh. “I liked you.” His mouth curves into a slow, familiar smirk, but his eyes—those steady, sharp eyes—soften in a way that makes your chest ache. “I liked you too,” he says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

But maybe it always was. You’d just never said it.

Until now.

You sit on a park bench now, the city lights flickering in the distance.

The night stretches on, soft and quiet. The warmth between you and Rintarou grows in the small spaces—in the brush of shoulders, the lingering glances, the unspoken words finally said.

You turn to him, your face lit faintly by the streetlight. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. There's no need.

Then, slowly, like the universe has been waiting for this moment, he leans in. His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining as if they’ve always belonged there. His lips meet yours, soft and sure, carrying the weight of years lost and the promise of something new.

When you pull away, breathless, he smiles—not a smirk, not a tease, but something genuine, something just for you. “Took us long enough,” he murmurs, his forehead resting against yours. You laugh softly, your heart finally at ease. “Yeah. But we figured it out eventually.”

And this time, you did.

2025 © NANASRKIVES. / do not copy, repost, edit, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any platforms, including ai.

Taglist (OPEN). / @cherrysurf

[th3cadav3r]

I Miss You

RE8 Chris Redfield X Female Reader

summary: Chris is a thousand miles away on a mission in Romania. But that won’t stop you two from satisfying your needs

content: established relationship, phone sex, masturbation, praise kink, reader has female anatomy and is referred to as a wife

author’s note: This one took forever to make but I’m so happy with it

Chris has been away on a mission for about a month now. You knew he was somewhere in Romania but you had not a clue what he and his squad were up to. That was confidential information—not even his own wife could know

You missed him a lot. You spent countless nights on your own, craving the warmth and company of your husband. This was the unfortunate reality of his occupation, you knew that. But you still couldn’t help but feel alone and depressed without him. You missed talking to him, eating with him, kissing him, fucking him. God, you really missed feeling his lips all over your skin and his tongue between your folds and his cock deep within you. You couldn’t help but fantasise almost every night, desperate for his return home

You called him one night when your urges were particularly strong. You had already stripped down to your underwear and placed a pillow between your legs. Your heart pounded in anticipation as you waited for him to pick up

“Hey, honey”

A rush of adrenaline shot throughout your body when you heard his voice

“Heyyy,” you answer back as casually as you could manage

“How’re you feeling?” Your heart fluttered as if it was the first time you ever heard his voice

“Lonely,” you answered honestly. “I miss you a lot”

He pauses for a moment. “I miss you too, babe. So much” His tone turned noticeably sad. There was no doubt that he missed you just as much as you missed him

“Whatcha doin’?” You ask to lighten the mood a bit

“Just laying in bed. We found a cheap motel just outside of town”

Your heartbeat quickens. Perfect

“In bed huh?” You respond as your finger traces the lace of your bra. “What a coincidence. So am I”

Oh shit. He noticed that shift in your voice even through the phone. He knew exactly what he was in for and accordingly started unbuttoning his pants

“And lemme guess. You’re not wearing anything right now?”

“Nah, still have my underwear on. But…maybe that’ll change in a bit” You smirked.

“Oh yeah” you heard a bit of struggle coming from his end. You smiled, knowing that he must be taking his shirt off. “God, I wish I could see you right now. Tell me what you’re doing”

“Well…” Your hand traces across your chest and over the lace of your bra strap. “Right now I’m just touching my chest a bit. Pretending that it’s you who’s touching me”

“You won’t have to pretend much longer. I’ll be home in no time, okay?”

“I can’t wait. So what are you doing right now hm?”

He laughs a bit. “Just rubbing my dick through my briefs,” he admits bluntly

Your thighs clench together, pushing the pillow closer to your core. The only thing that’s separating your soaking pussy from the pillow is the thin fabric of your skimpy lingerie panties. You want to rip them off and fling them away as far as possible, but you wait. You have to be patient

“Are you hard already?” you tease

“You fucking bet,” he responds. You can tell that he’s grinning just from how he’s talking. Just thinking about him palming himself through his underwear to the sound of your voice alone causes another wave of slick to pool in your panties

“Good…” you pant. “Cuz I’m really fucking wet right now”

“God damn,” he says after taking a pause to imagine the feeling of your wetness on his fingers. “I want you to touch yourself, baby”

That was just what you wanted to hear. Without hesitation you remove your hand from your chest and run it down your stomach before slipping it underneath your panties. Your fingers feel cool against your damp heat, making you shiver

“Okay. I am” You press a finger firmly in between your lips, gliding it up and down slowly. You moan softly, letting him know just how much you’re enjoying yourself

“Good girl,” he says almost breathlessly. He must be full on stroking himself off right now. You close your eyes and listen to the sound of him grunting as he pumped his cock

“Tell me what to do,” you say, trying to mask the desperation in your voice. You only allowed yourself to run your finger up and down your slit—you wanted Chris to instruct you on what you should do to yourself next

“Fuck,” he groans, excited by the power you’ve just bestowed upon him. “Spread your legs wider. And shove your finger inside that wet pussy for me”

You happily oblige, allowing your legs to spread open. Your finger dives into your tight cunt, slipping in easily. A moan escapes your lips, making his cock twitch in his hand

“Feels good, babe?”

“Not as good as when you do it,” you answer honestly. You’ve had to resort to masturbating often when he’s away for his job, which works fine for the time being but your measly finger wasn’t nearly as thick or skilled as his

“Damn right,” he mutters, swelling with pride. “Use another finger. Fill your pussy up like it’s my cock”

You push a second finger into yourself, feeling it stretch out your tight cunt. It still wasn’t as good as his own fingers inside you, but this would just have to do for now

“Drag them in and out,” he instructs you, “just like I would do”

You do just that, thrusting in and out of yourself. You start off slowly at first, but soon pick up the pace as your patience runs thin. Chris is close too, you can tell by the way that he’s huffing into the speaker and the fast squelching sounds of him jerking himself off

You thrust deeper into yourself, gasping when you reach your g-spot

“That’s it baby,” he praises. “Found that sweet spot, huh?”

“Mhm!” You couldn’t even get any words out at this point

“Keep going. And rub your clit with your thumb”

You could hear how desperate he was getting. You knew he wasn’t going to cum until you did

So you press your thumb against your clit, rubbing it side to side. It’s a slightly awkward position for your hand, but you don’t care. You need to cum with him

“I’m so close,” you admit almost breathlessly. You felt that all-to-familiar pressure building in your stomach and your mind started to blissfully drift away

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he pants. “Cum all over those fingers like a good girl. Let me hear it!”

That was all it took. Just a few seconds later, your eyes were rolled to the back of your head and your mouth was hanging open, allowing every moan and cuss word to spill out of it. Your fingers kept moving involuntarily, making a deliciously loud squelching sound

Just hearing the sounds that you made for him is enough to send him over the edge. His pace remains constant as he paints his own chest and stomach in thick ropes of cum. He practically growls into the phone as he comes, making your thighs tremble

You both ride out your orgasms for a while, stimulating your bodies as you listen to one another come apart. Soon you are reduced to a weak panting mess, barely being able to hold the phone up to your ear properly

“Fuck” He was the first to speak. “That was amazing”

“Yeah,” you talk to him with your eyes closed and relaxed. “Why the fuck don’t we do that more often?”

“Not sure,” he says with a little laugh. “But we should”

“Agreed”

[minkiroo]

second date update

pairing: s.mg x reader (wooyoung and jongho are the radio hosts)

genre: fluff

wc: 1.4k

warnings: discussions of a bloody nose, but nothing else.

note! this story is based on brook and jubal in the morning's second date update, where basically two people go on a first date, one of them ghosts, and the other calls the radio station to try to get the other on the phone to explain why they aren't answering. this particular scenario is basically a direct inspiration from this segment (starting at 8:05), where this actually happened lol. listen to it or not, i think its super funny HAHA

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────

“hello, is this [y/n]?”

“uhh… yes - may i ask who’s calling?” your voice, though awake, is cautious, with a slight nasally sound to it.

the call came from an unknown number, which you figured was spam. however, you picked up anyway, prepared to hang up.

“i’m wooyoung, with jongho, from WooHo on air, the radio show?”

“oh… yeah i’ve heard of you guys. i don’t listen much though, sorry.”

“that’s alright." he laughs. "basically, the premise is you went on a date with someone, maybe something went wrong or something was unclear between the two of you, and you ghosted. and so now one of our listener’s emailed us about you to try to figure out what went wrong or why you’re not answering his texts.”

you sigh, the painkillers not hitting you yet to fog your memory up.

“was it mingi?”

the other host, jongho, lets out an “aha!”

“so you’re aware of the date you went on?”

a sharp flare of anger arose. “of course im aware!”

“so why don’t we tell you what we know and you can fill in the gaps for us? so mingi told us that you ditched him in the middle of it and he’s been trying to get a hold of you.”

jongho stepped in: “yeah, you have to tell us what happened and why you would leave mingi in the middle of the date, i mean you ditched him - that is so rude!”

your eyebrows knit in confusion, shaking your head on the other end of the phone in disbelief. “wait a second, you obviously have no clue what actually happened. i didn’t do anything wrong!”

wooyoung responds. “okay, well he swears that your laser tag date was amazing and there was no reason that he can think of that would warrant you ditching him.”

“well, it was fun until it wasnt.”

the hosts both start laughing, confused. “okay… can you give us a bit more?”

“okay, i guess. so…” you take a deep breath before continuing, “we were playing laser tag, as you know, and it was fun! we were teamed up taking people down and stuff.. and mingi just got really competitive against these like ten-year-olds-”

“-as one would in a game of laser tag.” wooyoung cuts in, and you nod, though they couldn’t see it.

“right yeah, i mean one of the goals was to take them down and he whipped around this one corner and hit my face with the bottom of his gun!”

the hosts pause before laughing a bit, bewildered. “wait, wait wait… he accidentally hit you?”

“no, he like, full on hit me with his gun! he broke my nose!”

“there’s no way.” jongho interjects in disbelief.

“well, it may have been an accident but he was being like, a total idiot! like he was way too caught up in the game and getting this ten year old was more important to him than making sure my face was ok! there was blood like, dripping out of my nose!”

“wait, so your nose is broken right now?”

“why else do you think i sound like im holding my nose?!”

wooyoung snorted. “i don’t know, maybe you just sound like that, i didn’t want to assume.”

you roll your eyes. “i was just embarrassed! it was our first date and suddenly my nose is pouring out blood, i didn’t know what to do! so i went to the bathroom and called an uber to go to the hospital.”

jongho tried to find a reason for all of it. “i can’t imagine this guy not feeling bad for doing that if he knew that he broke your nose. i mean-”

“well at that point i didn’t even care about the date anymore! he was just being a reckless jerk and then i get to the hospital and they told me it was broken. i had to have surgery, ive been out of work, like-”

you’re cut off by a voice different than wooyoung and jongho, and instead met by a familiar sounding apology. 

“[y/n], i am so so sorry. i-i had no idea what happened.”

wooyoung sucks in a breath. “so that’s actually mingi, he’s on the other line and wants to talk to you.”

“please, i am so sorry. i had no idea what happened and-”

“no idea what happened?! you ruined my favorite hoodie!”

mingi sounded desperate and apologetic, though the pain killers were starting to hit your system and made it harder to respond. “i tried finding out what happened and you didn’t answer or respond.”

“well, i had to take myself to the hospital, i couldnt answer the phone in surgery!”

“[y/n], i am so sorry. i wouldve taken you to the hospital if i had known. i feel awful.”

you laugh bitterly. “god no, you’re like, the last person i want to see me with a broken nose! we were on a date!”

“i would’ve paid for the hospital bill, for everything. i just wish you told me.”

wooyoung chimes in, feeling like the conversation was running too long for radio time. “honestly, i think the kid’s to blame. should’ve surrendered.” jongho chuckles in agreement.

you ignore the hosts. “i don’t need you to pay my bills, mingi. i managed just fine. i’m sorry, i…” you lose track of what you say, speech slowing down as the painkillers take full effect. “i’m sorry, theres packing material in my nose and i can’t breathe or talk right…”

“i feel so terrible.. and theres no way i can feel great about that night anymore and i screwed up, i get it, i do. but i want to make it right - if there’s any way to i would and i will..” your tense body relaxes a bit, feeling a bit bad for being so short with him.

jongho takes mingi’s side, trying to appeal to your judgement, “[y/n], you really should, he didn’t mean to do it. i know you’re upset and had surgery but it was an accident.”

wooyoung teases with a maniacal laugh. “i don’t know, it sounds like he did it on purpose.”

mingi continues to apologize, promising to do whatever it takes.

wooyoung continues the show, but segwaying into last question. “so… [y/n]... would you like to go out with mingi again on a second date? we will pay for it.”

the painkillers were really getting to you now, and you scoff. “why would you pay for it? he offered to pay my hospital bills, i’m sure mingi can afford a second date.”

jongho laughs, conceding, knowing you were high on something. “okay okay, he can pay. but would you go out with him?”

you frown, looking at yourself in your sick, unkempt, state. as you think, mingi continues to insist he would do anything to make it right.

“you can go and get me some takeout. yeah, mhm, we can start there. and then you leave it at my door. and when i’ve gotten the takeout into my door, you will back three steps away from the door. and then.. and only then… will i consider letting you in if you’ve done all of that safely.” you were clearly on something.

“okay, perfect, mingi, will you buy [y/n] takeout and start working your way back into her good graces? we’ll make it safe.”

“whatever you want. i’ll get you something easy to eat, or whatever you want. what’s your favorite?” his voice is firm and determined.

you pout, “i’ve been craving thai food. from the one place downtown.”

mingi nods. “anything, yes. the thai place downtown. i’ll bring you food.”

you quietly hum, before slurring your next response. "a-and thai tea. with extra boba."

wooyoung laughs. “guys, i think she’s out of it. welp, mingi got his second date and [y/n] got her nose broken. another successful second date update, i think!”

as wooyoung and jongho go on to introduce the next segment of the show, politely ending the call between you and wooyoung on both lines, you’re left with a fuzzy feeling in your chest. a text from mingi catches your attention, asking what time he should come over and what your address is.

you struggle to respond, but manage to do so successfully. though the gentle throbbing in your nose is a relentless distraction, you cant help but feel completely and utterly weightless thinking about mingi coming over.

and it wasn’t the painkillers that time.

[ravennaortiz]

2/3 A: We broke up with Bishop requested by @privatetruths

“Hey boss” called Bottles as Bishop took a seat at the far. “What ya doing here? Should you be at home with your girl for Valentines day?” he inquired as he continued to clean glasses.

Bishop sighed as he rubbed his face. “We broke up last night” he replied before lighting a cigarette.

“Sorry to hear that” replied Bottles as he frowned.

“Me too Bottles. Me too” stated Bishop as he thought back on the events of last night. He still couldn’t make since of how this had happened. He had been later than expected and hadn’t returned your calls or sent a text. He had simply gotten home from the impromptu run and you met him at the door upset. .

“Want to talk about it?” asked Bottles quietly. The tension from Bishop suffocating.

“Yeah. Maybe you can tell me what I’m missing” replied Bishop thoughtfully before he went into what had occurred.

Bottles listened attentively for the next few minutes as Bishop spoke.

“Thoughts?” inquired Bishop once he was done.

“You stated you loved her several times but has it occurred to you that she doesn’t know that?” asked Bottles carefully. “I mean yes she says it back and such, But does she know you value her? And I mean more than with gifts and notes. I think you two have very different love languages” stated Bottles. “Too you not texting or returning calls is a habit, a bad habit for this relationship. Returning her call and text or just updating her shows her you value her and love her. Does that make sense?”

It does. Yeah it does” replied Bishop as he nodded. “I’ve spent more time a single man than one in a relationship and I forget what all goes into it. I’m not used to needing to be accountable to anyone but the club. Guess I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get another chance with a woman” finished Bishop as he rubbed his face with both hands before moving to stand.

“Maybe you can get a second chance” stated Bottles as he nodded to a spot behind Bishop.

Bishops heart ached as he turned and his eyes landed on you. His eyes searching yours for a hint of what you were thinking. His eyes landed on the box in your hands and his smile faded. You were just bringing him his stuff. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to win you back he thought to himself.

[lifenconcepts]

I’m so happy you share my joy in this!! You and I are not so different, but I conclude after all - we all share little bits of one another within us. And maybe not the same pains or pasts, but at times the same joys and moments. You too are someone i find fascinating! I’m sure that you have alot to speak of too, and little reminder - these little mystical writings have only become possible because I’ve gained a true habit (through passion) of writing daily about anything. Not bound by time or topic or moment or place. But just to write about whatever comes to mind. Always hated diaries, but have now written out 11 notebooks irl and COUNTLESS notebooks through digital notes.. I often just begin to write with ZERO prior thought (no internal monologue either! I like to point that out..) and then once everything is on paper I get to know what it is that truly goes on in there. (Even this large block of text is only possible through about.. Hm. Let’s estimate.. 20 or so conversations at MINIMUM I held with either myself or someone close and simply repeated a few times until they cemented. After all, all ‘facts’ are just patterns of belief that time has proven to be accurate. That’s why we don’t like to change our ideals even when people explain things aren’t exactly like that, but after a peaceful debate, come to some new conclusion.. hey! Had this exact point reoccur about 6 times in the last year alone! Wonderful..)

please DO write whatever you have the spark! Tend to it until you kindle a flame, and may the way it dances and flickers tell you the story of the wood it devours and the way it warms up the air. Everything is connected, you worded it nicely, and it is true that simple existence bounds us all to the now in whatever shape and form it takes on! From a wounded bird to the looming trees, the parasite within its rotting gut or the heat of the sun that warms up its corpse.. it all is beautiful, in its own grotesque way, and to be able to accept that as the magic it is allows you to also see the value of each part of the ecosystem and the cycle it upholds..

We’re living, and that’s utterly beautiful. And in whichever form it comes to you - know that it is a valid way to see the beauty which surrounds us. Well, as long as you DO love life, then your ideals can stay as is. But know you must always change, you can’t stay stagnant especially not when you know there’s something wrong in the way you’re acting or thinking or feeling. Do things until they feel right, even if you don’t yet know why. May movies, songs, stories, art, writing, people, sights, and thoughts all bring you a step closer into figuring out the secrets of the universe and all its pleasures it upholds.. ofcourse, I may have run around with a lighter to your souls - but it has begun to spark the flame within some that may make them strive to bettering themselves, and in finding whatever calling you feel passionate towards, you’ll find fulfilment within plainly existing. It is sad ofcourse many still remain unaware and refuse to move from self-destructive thoughts, while the path to discovery is so open, but I guess not all shall be changed by me and that is fine. I wasn’t placed here to help others, but rather guide. I’m actively helping myself so I can indirectly help and assist others by sharing the knowledge I’ve gathered. If I was preoccupied with running around and saving every dying bug then I’d long have killed myself from having little time for my actual joys and self. Sometimes, it’s neccesary to be selfish, sometimes, neccesary to be selfless.. but the magic of these sorts of notes and advice is that there never is one solution to all and obviously each individual situation/experience/person/creature/soul needs their own unique perspective, and so even though you can’t predict every little thing, to have basics vague thoughts that can apply to many a thing.. it helps gather things into one spot and go from there somewhere coherent and clear. it’s funny though how I don’t know many basic things, like why do we seek out comfort, or why after all this knowledge we still fall prey to addiction, but I got many theories as to why.. and it reminds me a little of Sherlock Holmes.. who can differentiate dozens of different tobacco ash and dirt but doesn’t know shit about the solar system. The fact isn’t that he’s stupid or anything but just more well accquainted in the very specific skills and knowledge he needs for his specific job, his passion and calling, and that excess stuff DOES indeed clutter up the brain. Ofcourse though, we’re not immune to the internet yet, so yeah I can sadly explain to you what a skibidi toilet is (fucking sickens me), but at the very same time explain why the distant stars have more in common with a fleeting memory of a family friend in a party you were sleepy through as a child than the odd name and concept of a god. After all, there ain’t a big man upstairs, you just gave him that form to present as because it feels somewhat right and nice. But in reality. WOW there’s so much true beauty around!!!!!

we’re connected everywhere. From the man who wanders aimlessly to the young girl running home, to the parrot which flies across a forest to the eagle bound by a tether, from a chained dog whining and thrashing to a whale so large and powerful yet still completely concealed by glass,, the stars and the water, the grass and the earth. The soil and their inhabitants and so the ones who live deep below the sea. So many parallels and similarities, beauty in between the lines. Can you see? Be glad you can see.. because it always was here and always will be there!!!

Thanks for letting me ramble !! I truly thrive in writing, it makes me feel alive. I actually feel good for once and not like curling up and bashing my head against a wall for a bit. This makes me feel good :))

OH AND I MUST ADD! There’s no one answer to anything, always different for all, and there always exist exemptions!! Having said that, try not to force anything even if it seems nice and good.. don’t want you stressing over existence if it’s not in your specific brain layout ya know? But after all, DO challenge your brain! Yeah yeah, contradictions.. did you not read my status below my name? CONTRADICTION IS DIVINITY!! The world is cruel and kind! We are destroyers and creators! Pain is pleasant, and pleasure can be painful! Death is often merciful, and mercy is often life-crushing. Rebirth will go on, but reincarnation or simply ending by the root can also exist for some. There is peace here and there, and just as a pigeon nests against anti-bird spikes.. we will find a way.

afternoon tea

….i need to just schedule these in advance…

Uh, how are y’all?

free spot for question (ramble about whatever/nf)

no pressure taglist: @neowanderseternally @numisanubis @berrybird054 @saireye @lifenconcepts

(Again, if u wish to be added or removed dm me and explicitly say so and I’ll respect your wish)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

waiting for marvel to take you up as their comic artist so that we can have amazing art with cherik official storyline

marvel hire me to draw professor x and magneto making out sloppy style for forty issues straight you will get a BAJILLION dollars i promise

[medicinemane]

Should make a pain killer that actually kills (or even touches) pain

[wolpatinga]

[todayisafridaynight]

is there anyone you ship ichi with? 👀

dragon quest collection for the nintendo switch 🥰🥰