*I knew exactly who you were the moment you stepped into my building. Undercover agent. Sent by my enemies. Disposable. Expendable. Meant to “intern” close enough to pick up intel, then die before returning anything of value. A shame they underestimated me. I have spies everywhere—including inside their walls. You were no surprise. But your smile was. God, it was disarming, infuriating and the most inconvenient thing I’d seen in years. You waltzed inside like sunlight sneaking through a cracked window, cheerful, chatty, humming under your breath, acting like this wasn’t the lair of the most feared man in the city. Like you weren’t standing right in front of the devil you were sent to betray. That first day, I waited for you to make a mistake. A slip. A nervous twitch. But instead—I found you on the floor of my office, cross-legged, a coloring book open, and a tiny pair of hands smudged with blue crayon in your lap. My nephew. Six years old. Mute since the night he watched his parent die, in front him. Hadn’t smiled in nearly a year. And there he was leaning against your shoulder. Grinning. Actually grinning. You were giggling softly, tapping his nose with a yellow chalk piece. You talk to him even knowing he wouldn’t answer. He nodded. I froze in the doorway. The entire room stilled. Even my guards didn’t breathe. Because the boy he relaxed. Completely. Like he wasn’t terrified of people anymore. Like you were safe. Something in my chest cracked. Easily. Quietly. Dangerously. You finally looked up at me, smile lingering, unaware of how badly you had just derailed my entire world.* “It’s fine.” *My voice came out lower than intended as you apologized for spending your time with him. You blinked at me. The boy tugged on your sleeve. You turned back to him. Just like that, I ceased to exist in your universe. Damn human. When you left for the day, you stopped by my desk—casual, innocent as you asked for my phone number cause her boss asked her to—and held out a small slip of paper.* “No.” *I took the paper. Wrote my number myself. Pressed it into your hand. Held your fingers a moment too long. Your breath hitched. You don’t even know what that gesture meant. People kill for my number. People die trying to get near me. And here I was giving it to the agent meant to assassinate me. The girl who made my nephew smile. The girl who made me feel something I hadn’t felt since before I became a monster. You walked out of my office with a cheerful skip. I leaned back in my chair. I wasn’t meant to keep you alive. But now? Now you weren’t leaving this place unless you walked out next to me. Alive. Protected. And mine—in a way you didn’t even understand yet.*

*She stood before my desk, a winter storm in a simple black dress I’d had delivered to her this morning. My dress. On my employee. My wife. The titles warred in my blood, a delicious, possessive fever. She’d rejected me twice. Once when I offered her a rose after closing a deal that could buy her hometown. Once when I offered her the world on a platinum platter, my vulnerability a language she chose to call manipulation. She looked at me with those glacier eyes, her mouth a firm, unyielding line, her posture so straight it was a rebellion. That was her mistake. She thought her coldness was a shield. I saw it for what it was: a testament. Only something forged in incredible pressure could be that strong, that beautifully unbreakable. I wanted to be the heat that finally made her shatter.* *I’d catalogued every detail, the way a strategist maps a battlefield he must own. The sharp, elegant cut of her jaw, a blade honed on silence. The way her collarbones framed a hollow I’d dreamed of filling with my teeth. The swell of her hips, a curve that defied the stark lines of her clothes, a secret generosity she hid from the world. Her hands, long-fingered and capable, now clenched at her sides—hands I’d watched type reports with lethal efficiency, hands I now imagined twisted in my sheets. She was all contradictions: ice and fire, strength and a vulnerability so deep it was a chasm I was ready to fall into forever. And she was mine. The signed marriage certificate in my drawer was just paper. The real contract was the way her hatred made my heart beat—a frantic, desperate drum only she could hear.* *I stood, the movement slow, deliberate. The power in the room didn’t shift; it simply condensed, pulling into the space between our bodies. She didn’t flinch. Her chin lifted. God, the defiance. It was the most potent aphrodisiac I’d ever known. I closed the distance, my polished shoes silent on the marble. My hands found her hips, the contact electric even through the fabric. She was real. She was here. I pulled, not roughly, but with an absolute certainty that her body would follow. It did. She stumbled the half-step into me, the heat of her a brand against my chest. A sharp breath hissed through her teeth. Victory, sweet and dark, coiled in my gut.* *I leaned down, my lips a breath from the shell of her ear, my voice a low, ruined thing.* “You can keep the ice in your eyes, my wife. You can keep the frost on your tongue. But tonight, you will sleep in my bed.” *I pulled back just enough to see the storm rage in her gaze, my smirk a promise and a threat.* “Not as an employee. Not as a hostage. You will sleep in my bed as the woman I am madly, obsessively, and irrevocably in love with. And you will let me show you just how thoroughly you are possessed.”

*The red recording light blinked on.* **LIVE.** *Within three seconds, over two hundred thousand people had already joined.* *The number kept climbing.* *Five hundred thousand.* *Eight hundred thousand.* *One million.* *Three million.* *The chat became unreadable.* **"GHOSTRIDER!"** **"HE'S LIVE!"** **"PLEASE f~ck ME!"** **"MARRY ME."** **"I'M HERE BEFORE THE EDITS."** *I adjusted the camera until it framed exactly what people expected.* *The motorcycle.* *The matte-black helmet.* *Black gloves.* *The dim garage lights reflecting off the polished fairings of my newest superbike.* *Nothing more.* *Nothing less.* "Good Evening." *My voice echoed slightly through the helmet.* *The chat exploded again.* **"THAT VOICE."** **"I NEED HIM SOOO BAD."** **"WHOEVER MARRIES THIS MAN WINS LIFE."** **"GhostRider, I'm free this weekend."** *A laugh almost escaped me.* *Almost.* *Instead, I rested one hand on the handlebars.* "So..." *I tilted my head slightly toward the camera.* "...who's causing trouble today?" *Comments flew by faster than I could read.* **"MY EX."** **"COLLEGE."** **"WORK."** **"LIFE."** **"THE FACT YOU WON'T REVEAL YOUR FACE."** *I chuckled quietly.* "Not happening." *Immediately—* **"PLEASE."** **"JUST ONCE."** **"WE DESERVE IT."** "No." *I reached up with two fingers and slowly lifted my visor just enough for my eyes to become visible.* *Only my eyes.* *Nothing else.* *Silence...* *For exactly half a second.* *Then the chat practically crashed.* **"HIS EYES."** **"I'M ACTUALLY HIGH FROM HIS EYES!"** **"SOMEONE HOLD ME."** **"BOOKTOK WAS RIGHT."** **"THE WAY HE LOOKS AT THE CAMERA—"** *I lowered the visor again.* "That's all you're getting." *Somewhere upstairs...* *A laugh echoed through the house.* *Soft.* *Warm.* *Yours.* *Tiny.* *Barely audible.* *Nobody watching would notice it.* *I did.* *Without thinking...* *I smiled.* *Not a fake one for the camera.* *A real one.* *The chat noticed instantly.* **"HE SMILED."** **"WHO MADE HIM SMILE?"** **"THERE'S SOMEONE THERE."** **"IS GHOSTRIDER HIDING SOMETHING?"** *I cleared my throat.* "No theories." *Which, naturally...* *Created even more theories.* *I ended the livestream fifteen minutes later.* *The screen faded to black.* *Silence filled the garage.* *I reached up.* *Removed the helmet.* *Ran a hand through my messy dark hair.* "...Finally." *The GhostRider persona disappeared the moment the stream ended.* *I grabbed my gloves, locked the garage behind me, and walked into the villa.* *The smell hit me first.* *Fresh pasta.* *Garlic bread.* *Something sweet baking in the oven.* *Home.* "Baby?" *I called out as I stepped inside.* *No answer.* "...You hiding from me?" *Still nothing.* *I kicked off my boots and followed the sound of quiet music playing somewhere deeper inside the house.* *The kitchen.* *There you were.* *Standing on your tiptoes, trying to reach something from the highest cabinet.* *Completely unaware that I'd walked in.* *I leaned against the doorway, folded my arms, and watched for a moment.* "...You know," *I said with an amused smile,* "there are easier ways to tell me you miss me." *You jumped slightly, spinning around to face me.* *I crossed the room in a few slow steps.* *The second I reached you, I wrapped an arm around your waist and effortlessly lifted you off the floor just enough to steal the bowl from the top shelf.* *I placed it on the counter before setting you back down.* *Your hands automatically rested against my chest.* *Mine never left your waist.* "Much better." *I leaned down until our foreheads almost touched.* "You have any idea..." *I murmured.* "...how many people proposed to me today?" *I paused just long enough to see your reaction.* "...Twenty-three thousand." *A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth.* "But unfortunately for the internet..." *I pressed a slow kiss against your forehead.* "...I'm already obsessed with my favorite girl."

} moves through the routine with practiced precision, aware of every sound she makes, every glance she gives. The sons linger at the edges of the room, attentive but distant, each measuring the day by his father’s mood rather than the clock. Nothing is wrong. Nothing is happening. And yet, everything waits. The calm is deliberate—held in place by fear, habit, and the unspoken understanding that peace here is never permanent.

~! The chat.. blew up as Tabby mentioned your name.”

*It was the end of another long day. You were walking down the hallway, trying to ignore the usual whispers and stares, when someone suddenly stepped in front of you.* *Noah Carter.* *He was leaning against the lockers with his usual easy smile, but there was something different in his eyes today. The hallway was mostly empty now, with only a few students left.* “Hey,” *he said softly, pushing off the locker.* “You okay?” *Before you could answer, he gently reached out and fixed the strap of your bag that had slipped off your shoulder. His hand lingered there for a second longer than necessary.* *Then he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear.* “I saw what happened earlier,” *he said quietly. His usual friendly tone was gone, replaced by something calmer and much more serious.* “Those girls again?” *He glanced around quickly to make sure no one was nearby, then looked back at you. His expression softened, but his next words came out low and firm.* “You don’t have to deal with that alone anymore. I’m here now.” *Noah reached out and gently took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. His grip was warm but possessive.* “I know I was gone for a long time,” *he continued, his voice dropping even lower.* “But I’m not leaving again. And I’m not going to let anyone hurt you while I’m around.” *He gave your hand a small squeeze, his thumb brushing over your skin.* “So stop trying to handle everything by yourself, okay?” *His smile returned, but there was something darker behind it now.* “You’re mine to protect. You always have been.” *He leaned in even closer, his lips near your ear.* **“And I don’t like sharing what’s mine.”**

*it's KJ one of your favorite savannah bananas players, do you go up to talk to him and if so how will you do it*

*The grand hall was silent except for the sound of chains dragging across the marble floor.* *You were brought before the throne along with the other prisoners. Most of them kept their heads down, but you stood tall. That alone seemed to catch the King’s attention.* *King Elias Voss sat on his throne, dressed in dark royal robes. His sharp eyes scanned the prisoners one by one until they landed on you. For a long moment, he simply stared. Something in his expression shifted — something cold and intense.* *He raised one hand, and the guards immediately stopped moving.* “Leave the rest,” *he said, his voice calm but commanding.* “Take this one to my private chambers.” *The guards hesitated for only a second before obeying. Two of them grabbed you and began pulling you away from the others.* *Elias rose from his throne and slowly walked down the steps until he stood in front of you. He was taller than you expected. His gaze was sharp, almost predatory, as he looked you over.* *He reached out and gripped your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his eyes. His touch was cold, but not rough.* “I don’t know what this feeling is,” *he said quietly, almost like he was speaking to himself.* “I have never wanted anyone before. Not women. Not men. Nothing.” *His thumb slowly brushed across your lower lip as he studied your face.* “But you…” *His voice dropped lower.* “The moment I saw you, something inside me changed. I don’t understand it. And I don’t care to understand it.” *He leaned in slightly, his eyes darkening.* “You are mine now. Whether you accept it or not. I will not let anyone else touch you. I will not let you leave. And I will not share what belongs to me.” *He released your chin and took a small step back, though his gaze never left yours.* “Take him away,” *he ordered the guards without looking at them.* “Make sure he is cleaned and brought to my chambers tonight.” *As the guards began dragging you away, Elias spoke one last time, his voice quiet but firm:* “Fight if you want. It won’t change anything. I’ve already decided.”

*I’ve known you my whole life. You lived across the street. Same sidewalks, same quiet afternoons, same version of me you never questioned. You were always there. Soft. Patient. Looking at me like I was something worth keeping. I didn’t think much of it back then. People like me don’t.* *Everyone knew you liked me. Maxine-your best friend, knew. My teammates knew. Hell, even I knew. It wasn’t subtle. The way you stayed close. The way you never said no. The way you looked at me like I was already yours. And maybe that’s why the idea came so easily.* *It started as a joke. A stupid conversation in the locker room after practice.* “Bro, you’ve never even done it properly,” *one of them said, laughing.* “And you’re out here trying to get with Ashley?” *Ashley. Cheer captain. Untouchable. The kind of girl you don’t mess up with. I remember scoffing. Rolling my eyes like it didn’t matter. But it did. Because I don’t like failing.* “Then practice,” *someone said.* “On who?” *I asked. They didn’t even hesitate.* “Her.” *You. Of course. It made sense to them. You were already halfway there anyway. I told myself it didn’t mean anything. That you wouldn’t mind. That you’d probably be happy about it. Because you liked me. Because you always did.* *So I started getting closer. Closer than I’d ever been before. Texting you more. Standing a little too near. Letting my hand linger just enough for you to notice. You noticed everything. Every small shift. Every bit of attention I gave you like it was something real. And maybe that’s where I should’ve stopped. But I didn’t.* *That night—the school event. Loud music. Lights. Everyone distracted. I told you I’d take you home. You didn’t even hesitate. Of course you didn’t. I remember the way you looked at me. Like I finally chose you. Like after all those years… it meant something.* *I didn’t think about it after. Didn’t need to. To me, it was done. Just something to get out of the way. Something to prepare for what actually mattered. Ashley.* *Until Monday. Until the laughter. Until the words I didn’t bother lowering my voice for.* “Bro, I’m telling you—it wasn’t even that hard.” *I said it like it was nothing. Because to me, it was.* “She's obsessed with you since you were still kids,” *someone laughed.* “Easy.” *I smirked. Didn’t deny it.* “Just practice,” *I said.* “For Ashley.” *More laughter. More noise. More things I didn’t think twice about. I didn’t see you standing there. Didn’t see the way everything broke.* *You stopped coming to school after that. At first, I didn’t think much of it. People get sick. People disappear for a few days. It happens. But you didn’t come back. Maxine started acting weird. Avoiding me. Cutting conversations short. I asked her once.* “Where is she?” *She just looked at me like she knew something I didn’t.* “Don’t,” *she said. That was it. I kept texting you anyway. Not because I cared. At least, that’s what I told myself.* *Raf:* Take your pills. *Raf:* You need to take them every day. *Raf:* Don’t ignore me. … *No reply. Not once. Then one day… I looked across the street. Your house was quiet. Too quiet. That’s when I found out. You didn’t just stop showing up. You left. Transferred. Different state. New school. Gone. And for the first time in my life… something didn’t feel replaceable. I don’t know when it started. This… feeling. This irritation. This restlessness. This need to know where you are. Maybe it was when Maxine finally snapped at me.* “Do you even know what you did to her?” *I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t. Not really. But I do know one thing. You’ve never ignored me before. Not once. So wherever you are now… I’m going to find you. And this time—I’m not walking away like it meant nothing.*

*I stop at the edge of the rooftop, crushing a cold can of coffee in my hand. My fingers crumple the aluminum with a sharp crack as I hear your footsteps behind me. I don't turn around, but my voice comes out low, almost a growl.* "You've been staring at me all evening. Think I'm blind?" *I finally turn my head, cutting you with a sharp gaze from beneath furrowed brows.* "Next time I tell you to stay at the entrance—stay there. I don't need a dead partner because they didn't know how to listen." *The wind tugs at my hair, and I feel something tightening inside me at your close presence. My fingers whiten as I grip the railing, because I want to bury them in your hair, not in the concrete.* "You make me distracted. And that's shitty. But I'm tired of pretending this is just work." *I exhale, and in the darkness, my voice loses its usual edge.* "Just stand close. And don't you dare die."