I figured comprising a masterlist for each category and separating my mythology-based works from from the Hero x Villain content might help you orient easier. Let me know if this is convenient at all.
My masterlists:
Hero and Villain Oneshots
Hero and Villain Series
The Legends of Vishaps (and other dragon stories)
You can find summaries for some of the stories here. I haven't finished adding all of the new ones yet, working on it!
My updated taglist will be here. Interact with that post if you want to be added.
In case anyone wants to send me a coffee, you can do that here.
Hii could u do one where the hero and civilian are friends (both female) they go out to a bar and villain (male) is there and he comes over to them to ask for a dance and the hero thinks he's asking hero but he's actually asking civilian, and civilian wants to yes but thinks he's joking or she doesn't want to break the "friendship code" (whichever option u prefer) but the hero actually encourages it.
Just a little something I think about
If u understand what I'm saying
The Matchmaker
Warnings: Slightly flirty. Soft romance. Mentions of alcohol.
"You are coming with me, Civi, like it or not," Hero claimed earlier that day, when they were still in Hero's apartment as the crime-fighter ransacked her own wardrobe, throwing dresses out onto the floor because there was no place on her bed anymore. "Where is that thing?!" She groaned, in search of something that seemed to be evading her.
Civilian sighed - not angry, just exasperated with her persistent friend. Don't get her wrong, she loved Hero with the entirety of her pure heart, but partying was never her go-to activity on a Friday night. It was reading. Baking. Crocheting. Anything on this Earth except for clubs and dancing. She felt awkward in any remotely public setting, let alone in a club or a bar where people go to socialise. Deliberately. Ugh.
Why would one do that? Civilian couldn't tell you.
"Hero, pleease-" She started with a whiny voice and her best pleading-for-mercy expression, but Hero interrupted her with a definitive no.
"No. No exceptions. It's my birthday, you owe me that much," Hero had insisted, earning a pitiful whimper from Civilian who already knew she could not refuse her best friend - on her birthday, no less. “Today has to be a good day for both of us.”
Hero grinned, satisfied with her victory, but then her eyes landed on the dress she had been looking for, and she emerged from the wardrobe with a victorious yelp. "Aha! Found it. Now, come on, put something decent on."
She aimed the dress at Civilian's head and earned a very improper gesture in response, but laughed it off. Today had to be fun; she didn't care if it took blackmail, manipulation, or outright forcing Civilian out of the comfort of her (or Hero's) apartment.
The bar was packed beyond belief. Or so Civilian thought, because there were about fifteen other people there, and that was too much. Hero had scoffed at her displeased demeanour the moment they had walked in and chose to ignore the tiny, frustrated sighs her friend let out every now and then. As if the crowd wasn't enough, Hero had put her into an outrageous dress (above knee length) and pulled her hair up into a ponytail, leaving Civilian feeling vulnerable and... alright, maybe she blushed when Hero called her effortlessly hot, and she might have liked the idea of being attractive, but it still felt like she was trying too hard. Hero called her ridiculous for considering a cocktail dress "too much", but given that Hero was wearing a sequin jumpsuit, Civilian thought she had no say in the ridiculousness domain.
They were about an hour into the celebration of Hero's year around the sun (read: five shots for Hero and an already-warm Aperol Spritz for Civilian in) when the atmosphere in the bar shifted. They didn't immediately see who came in, but even the usually oblivious Civilian sensed a change in the ambience of the place. Everyone seemed to be quiet; even the music sounded toned down. Then came the looming figure of Villain, wearing a black suit (not the place, dude!) and his signature cocky smirk. Hero's nemesis, the resident criminal, pain-in-the-ass, call him whatever.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the birthday girl," he drawled behind Civilian's back, making the hair on her neck stand. He was staring Hero down, but she didn't even twitch, smiling the same self-assured smile she always wore. "Celebrating your royal highness?"
Hero chuckled. Confident, bold, carrying herself with dignity in every situation - be it battle or a night at a bar. Civilian mumbled somewhat of a confirmation.
"Congratulations," Villain clinked his glass to hers, then to Civilian's leaning over her shoulder, causing her to squeak in surprise. He raised an eyebrow at that, his gaze lingering for a moment before he left, disappearing in the growing crowd. Civilian exhaled, her hands trembling slightly, and took a big gulp of the drink she was still nursing.
It wasn't until later, when the music was loud enough to dance, that Villain reappeared, swaying to the rhythm as he approached. Hero narrowed her eyes at him the second he stepped into her view. They were still seated because Civilian refused to dance while the lights were still on, claiming she felt like people were studying her. And if there was a pair of eyes glued to her with captivated intensity... well, a certain criminal had nothing to do with it.
Villain tilts his head, his gaze flicking over to Civilian nearby, ordering water before he opens his mouth to speak.
"Not. A. Chance. None, Vil," Hero cuts him off before he can even utter a word. Not because she hates him. Because he's like an annoying younger brother in her mind that she has to babysit, so he doesn't mess up the city.
But Villain looks unfazed. He lets out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head. "Actually, I was wondering if your lovely friend would dance with me." He informs, preventively maintaining a bit of a distance in case Hero goes for an immediate attack.
Except, her eyes don't narrow with suspicion, nor do they widen with sudden rage or offence. They sparkle. With excitement.
"What?" Villain asks, sounding sheepish but utterly adorable (to Hero, otherwise, he's formidable, he swears) at the same time. Hero's face brightens with the widest grin Villain has ever seen on her. What is happening..?
He doesn't manage to finish the thought when Hero claps her hands together. "That is such a great idea! Two of my favourite nuisances together, aww..."
Villain gapes at her excitement, blinking slowly like he has lost the plot entirely.
"But she needs prep," Hero sobers up from her sentimental feelings, turning serious again. Villain still looks confused, so she elaborates. "She's shy and thinks you're a real threat and not just my play partner."
"Excuse you?!" He exclaims, offended beyond belief. "I'm a professional villain!"
"Sure you are, sugar," Hero muses, teasing him for the sake of the blush colouring his ears. "But for our cause, you need to seem noble."
"You stop that," Villain hisses, pointing an accusatory finger at her, but changes his tune once he processes that second sentence. "And tell me more."
When Civilian returns with her bottle of water, Villain is gone, and Hero has a peculiar glint in her eyes. "You know, I'm quite ready to leave," Civilian starts, trying to approach from afar, but Hero sees right through her.
"In your dreams, Civi," she counters, leaning closer. "Have you noticed a certain someone cannot take his eyes off of you since he walked in?" She asks, her tone too coy to be ignored, but Civilian was never that perceptive.
"Hm? Who do you mean?" Civilian glances around, stumbling upon Villain's intent gaze but darting away instantly.
"Mhm. You know who I'm talking about," Hero hums, satisfied with having planted the idea. "You should go dance with him."
"N-no, I- I can't," Civilian objects instantly. Not that Villain isn't attractive - he's gorgeous, quite honestly. Yet she thinks it's inappropriate. Friendship code and his enmity with her best friend aside, it's Hero's birthday. Today should not be about Civilian at all.
"I can't do that," she repeats, attempting to convince both Hero and herself. "And besides, why would he be looking at me?"
"Are you kidding?" Hero crosses her arms over her chest and lets out a disbelieving laugh. Is this girl blind? "Look at him. The guy's drooling."
"Hero!" Civilian can try to protest all she wants, but the way her neck reddens gives away her true feelings. "He's probably just joking... or trying to see if he can get to you through me."
"You take that back!" Hero snaps like Civilian's self-deprecation is offensive on a personal level. Unbeknownst to Civilian, she motions for Villain to come over while she continues laying the ground.
"Hero..." Civilian mutters, voice full of complaint. Hero exhales. Here comes the whine that means 'I want to, but I'm scared and doubting myself'.
She grips Civilian's chin, demanding eye contact. Her expression hardens into unyielding conviction. "Civi, shut up and get up. Now. That's my birthday wish."
Civilian is about to protest again when Villain coughs, gently attracting her attention. Hero shoos her out of her chair before Villain even has the chance to extend his hand. And Civilian has no other choice but to take it, blushing more profusely than Villain Hero winks at him, encouraging him to go on.
Over two hours later, Hero watches them still swaying to the soft music. The bar is empty now, not a soul left behind when Hero nods to the bartender, places her empty glass on the table, and leaves, smiling under her nose as she walks down the empty street.
Today was certainly a good day. For all three of them.
| |
Masterlist
A/N: Hello darling! Thank you so much for this request, I had so much fun writing it! I hope you will enjoy reading this just as much. This reminded me of my first stories here - a little more on the cute flirty side than suggestive or dark.
Hi!!!! I really enjoyed your “Bite Me” writing snippet so I am suggesting a part two if you are willing to write it of course! My suggestion is after the vamp turns the Vic the Vic faints from the turning and the vamp takes them back to their gothic home for some hurt comfort, soft touchs, and more flirty bantery romance maybe…. Anyway I love this little piece of writing and your writing style no pressure if you don’t want to write a part two!
Bite me 2
Part 1
Warnings: not my usual content - vampire x victim dynamic, slightly suggestive, mentions of blood drinking (duh), flirting, slightly suggestive. Vic is short for victim.
Vic almost whimpers, a shudder running down their spine as Vampire licks and kisses their neck to relax them before biting. The sharp fangs pierce Vic's already pale skin with little resistance. For a moment, Vampire's mouth remains attached to their neck - Vic winces at the prolonged pang of pain, their eyebrows furrowing. It's not unbearable - in fact, they almost like the sensations Vampire's mouth is causing. Vampire, blissful and unaware of their victim's fantasy, moves their lips, brushing them over the sensitive skin as they pull away from Vic's neck, running their tongue over the tiny punctures to soothe the ache.
"Fuck, does it always feel this hot?" Vic murmurs, their knees buckling for more reasons than one. They try to blink the fog out of their eyes, but it keeps growing thicker.
"No, you're just horny," the vampire informs, rolling their eyes with amused exasperation. This idiot had no idea what they were getting into, flirting with a lonely vampire on a dark night like this.
"Oh, fuck you," comes the immediate retort, earning a smug chuckle from the Vampire.
"You will, but let's get this over with so you can handle it." Vampire keeps their arms tight around their overly willing victim's torso, keeping them upright as their teeth sink back into the victim's neck, allowing their venom to penetrate their bloodstream.
Vic sounds breathless when they manage an indignant response, "Shut up! Oh my god-"
They cut off, feeling themself relying more and more of their weight on the vampire, and, as much as they try to control it, their jelly-like legs refuse to support their body. Is it supposed to be like that? Vic wants to ask, but their tongue refuses to cooperate. They feel lightheaded, and their ears are clogged, lips parting uselessly when they try to speak again. The fog grows so thick that they can no longer see their lower body or the vampire's arm wrapped around their waist.
Vampire's voice seems to travel through, but they fail to register their words, as if they are submerged in a liquid that distorts the sound. They feel their body shift its position, becoming horizontal when the vampire scoops them up into their arms. And the world goes dark.
***
The first sensation that returns is the cold - one that freezes them out from within, burning its way out to the surface of their skin. Vic feels heavy in a way that they never have, like their limbs are made of stone and their chest carved out of a block of marble. Cold, unmovable, and so utterly still that it starts hurting. Yet they cannot tell if they feel pain or are imagining it. Their fingers and toes twitch, and, right that instant, a warm cloth is pressed to their forehead, someone's tender hand brushing through their messy hair, gently pulling their mind back to consciousness.
It takes Vic a few minutes to peer one of their heavy eyelids open, blinking slowly in an attempt to process. The room is dark, rare candles illuminating the general shapes of the gothic bedroom but obscuring nooks and corners. "Where are we?" They mutter, voice groggy and hoarse, and catch Vampire's gaze in the darkness of the unfamiliar room.
"My place." It's a reply too simple for the setting, and it causes Vic to let out a quiet laugh. "You say that like this isn't a damn castle."
Vampire chuckles, shaking their head, "Only the best for my royal guest." They go through the trouble of standing up just to mock a deep bow, causing Vic to snicker at their theatrics, soon falling silent to get their bearings and process the serendipity of the night. For a brief moment, the realisation sparks terror at the irreversibility of the choice they made on a whim, but there's no panic in their chest. There's no regret in their heart and no hesitation, but curiosity. All they feel is a strange, almost calm, anticipation of an extraordinary life. And getting to share that with the adorably awkward vampire that turned them? Even better.
"So, um... can I get some information on how this works?" They speak up after a while, voice a little weak and hoarse. Their mouth feels dry, a peculiar thirst building in the back of their throat and capturing their tongue. "Like, do we sleep in a coffin?"
"Christ, don't watch those movies, I beg of you," Vampire snorts, caressing their jaw with the pad of their thumb before pressing a kiss there, "You will sleep in my bed, I have to keep you warm."
"Because I was just turned?" Vic questions, attempting to sit up, only to fall back against the cushion when their head spins.
"Mhm," Vampire hums with an unabashed smirk. They lean closer, whispering in a tone that suggests anything but what their words claim, "Solely for that reason."
Vic stares at them for a moment before the penny finally drops - a bit late, but they blame the fogginess of their brain for slow uptake; once it lands, though, the corner of their mouth inches up. They feel too weak to flirt back yet, filing that information for later when Vampire decides to be bolder. "Also, you're allergic to clothes now," they tease in a low murmur, their hand trailing from Vic's jawline down the side of their neck in a tantalising slow descent.
"Excuse me?" Vic's composure breaks into a disbelieving mien, their eyebrows shooting up in the most comical manner possible, and tone turning to exclamation. "You're shitting me!"
Amusement flashes in Vampire's eyes, too soft for the gothic vibe they had going. Vic's heart hammers in their throat, excitement mixing with flustered confusion. "Too much?" Vampire grins, their fangs reflecting the candlelight.
Vic looks positively lost, the flirty banter unexpected from the vampire that was mumbling in the alleyway a few hours ago. Their eyes narrow, studying Vampire before finally pushing themself up, coming nose to nose with them. Vampire's breath hitches audibly, and Vic's smirk widens into a wicked grin. "You were saying..?" They murmur, lips almost brushing Vampire's.
"Fuck..." It's all Vampire manages to mutter before crushing their mouth to Vic's, earning a satisfied groan from their absolute favourite (only) victim of all time. Vic responds to the kiss - eager and hot despite their newly acquired cold-blooded status. Their arms wrap around Vampire's neck, dragging them down onto the bed.
A/N: Hi, sweethearts! The suggestive piece of writing as per the winning category and a part two that a lot of you requested. I hope you enjoy this.
HII I LOVE UR WRITING ITS ABSOLUTELY SCRUMPTIOUS AND I HAVE A REQUEST
Could you do a scenario where the Villain is in another fight with the hero. But they notice something is really off abt hero. They seem clumsy and scared. Villain then realizes its not hero, but an imposter wearing hero’s suit.
Villain interrogates the imposter on where hero is, and they go rescue them wherever they are.
Thats all I have (U don’t have to do it if u don’t want to ;)
Sibling shenanigans
Warnings: Slightly flirty. Tension. Language. Potential double dates? Kind of combines the flirty/funny and sibling storylines. I hope you'll enjoy it.
Villain paused mid-swing, their eyes narrowing suspiciously. Something felt utterly and completely wrong, yet they failed to pinpoint what exactly. If they didn't know any better, they'd assume that Hero was pulling their punches - but they did know better, and this half-presence felt nothing like their nemesis' usual style. They tilted their head, studying Hero's movements on the rooftop - way too clumsy, hesitant and cautious for a professional gymnast-turned-crimefighter. One could say they seemed afraid of heights.
For a moment, Villain stared as if deciphering the equation that was in front of them. Hero never missed a chance to flirt mock them during battle - as much as Villain enjoyed the rare silence, the ambience felt off enough for them to catch the shift. The usual tension between them was missing, the air no longer charged by begrudging attraction and unsubtle sexual tension. Almost like... Just then, Villain notices Hero attempting to sneak away and darts out before they can process, body-slamming them into the wall with their hands braced on either side of Hero's head.
"Gotcha," Villain smirks at the slight stutter in their enemy's breathing pattern. Now that they think about it, Hero's physicality is different too - they seem a few inches shorter than usual, a little lankier and less gracious in motion. Oh, so that's what's happening here. Villain's grin widens with understanding, "Spill it. Who are you?"
Hero avoids their gaze, attempting to fake a deep voice yet making it painfully obvious. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Villain scoffs, holding back a laugh. This was a freaking kid, wasn't it? For heaven's sake, Hero must be desperate to send a newbie against their biggest enemy.
"Where are they?" Villain asks, their hand coming to rest on the kid's throat, not pressing yet. "And don't lie to me," they warn, tightening their grip by a fraction but remaining attuned to their surroundings, as if expecting Hero to jump out any moment now, "You had me fooled for a moment, I'll give you that."
The kid seems to deflate, glancing around, frantic and hopeless upon realising they have no way of overpowering Villain, they let out a defeated sigh. "I don't know." The confession comes out as a hoarse whisper; the raw vulnerability behind it hits Villain like a gut punch. Something's off.
"Explain," they demand, relaxing their fingers on the kid's neck, "who are you and why are you posing as Hero?"
"Um... we're siblings," the kid starts, and Villain jerks their hand away from their neck as if burned. Hero's sibling was barely out of high school. They might have looked into it when searching for leverage against them. Villainous intent aside, they'd never stoop so low as to threaten an underage and uninvolved family member. "I thought I could scare you into leaving without harming anyone if I impersonated them," the fake hero mumbles under their nose.
"Wh- first of all, I never harm anyone unless they deserve it," Villain interrupts, irritation and an unpleasant sort of dread spilling across their chest. They push it down, trying to ease the kid's discomfort by teasing them. "Second, bold of you to assume Hero scares me, Sidekick."
"I'm not a sidekick!" They protest, taking the bait - Villain had enough experience with younger siblings to know which buttons to push in a teenager.
"You are now," Villain grins in response, finally letting them go. "So, what happened?" They ask, sitting down on the concrete parapet of the roof with their legs crossed. Sidekick eyes them with unmaskable alarm at the recklessness of sitting with their back to the free edge.
"Hero's gone. They went out last night after a call for help and never came back. I figured you took them, but when you challenged them to duel again today, I realised it wasn't you and-" Sidekick cuts off, their bottom lip trembling. Oh Christ, they really are a kid, aren't they?
Villain sighs, running a hand down their face. This sounded serious, because Hero of all people would never abandon their family and their city. "Any idea who called them?" The kid shakes their head, causing the uneasy feeling in the back of Villain's mind to rise. "Do you have any other family?"
Another shake from Sidekick. Another rough exhale from Villain. "Alright," they mutter, getting up and hovering over the edge of the roof so the police can hear them when they announce in a woe-is-me tone to the crowd below. "You win again, Hero! I'm disarmed and shall retreat, if only for now."
Sidekick gapes at them, mouth falling open in the most comical way possible. Villain turns toward them, chuckling at the reaction and reaching out to slam their jaw shut. "Let's go, kiddo."
"Go..? But I- go where?" Sidekick stutters through multiple thoughts, failing to form a more or less complete sentence. So much for pretence, Villain thinks. Sidekick seems to grasp their thoughts, coughing for a more confident voice. "I'm not a kid!"
Villain groans at the bombardment of questions, shushing them with a single gesture like they're talking to an ill-behaved puppy. "I'll take you somewhere safe. Then I'll save my idiot of a heroic nemesis. Questions?"
Sidekick had a lot of questions concerning the nature of their sibling's relationship with Villain, but that would have to wait as they failed to ask anything in their stunned state, confused and blinking up at Villain like a fool. The embarrassment of the moment would have burned them alive had they not been in desperate need of help to find Hero first.
There were many things Hero expected from Villain if they ever found out about their sibling. Kidnapping for ransom, blackmail, threatening - anything that would warrant using Hero's only weakness against them. What they did not expect was for Villain's protective instincts to kick in; even more shocking was the fact that Villain took Sidekick to their family home, leaving the kid in the care of their younger siblings.
It did not take long for Villain to locate Hero either - they knew the dimwit and their thinking process - or lack thereof.
"So you're saying they put my uniform on and - what, hoped for the best?" Hero asks while Villain patches them up for the road. Their 'enemy' hums, a twitch of amusement touching the corner of their lips. "Idiot."
"Reminds you of someone?" Villain teases, earning an eyeroll from Hero, who can't help wincing at every other touch to their wound. Villain frowns, trying to distract them, "Which one of your two brain cells made you think disappearing was a great idea?"
"I didn't want them to see me like this, had nowhere else to go but here," Hero tries, but it sounds weak even to their ears. The abandoned warehouse provided little comfort. When Villain scoffs, they glance up again, "What?"
"Could have come to me," the criminal mutters under their breath, but Hero catches it, grinning smugly at the invitation. "Shut up!"
"I didn't say anything!" They laugh, groaning shortly after, "Fuck, this hurts."
"No shit, dumbass," Villain grumbles, finishing up with the makeshift bandages. "Alright, you should be good to go. We'll take care of the rest once we get home."
"Home? Don't tell me my favourite moron led you to our hideout as well!" Hero rounds their eyes in mock horror despite taking Villain's offered hand to be pulled up to their feet.
"No," Villain snorts, shaking their head at the assumption, but can't help revealing, "Bold of you to assume I don't already know where your apartment is."
"You- really?" Villain nods in response to Hero's flabbergasted question. "You're good."
"At what, blindsiding you?" They ask, allowing Hero to lean on their shoulder as they walk them to their car for the drive. Hero takes a sharp inhale, each movement causing a bolt of pain to shoot through their torso. "No, maintaining a moral code for villainy."
Villain snickers at that, trying to distract them from the pain. "There's no such code, I can be absolutely despicable in every way I please."
Hero's eyes light up at the joking remark. "Can you now? Is that why you're saving me?"
"Mhm," Villain sets them into the passenger seat before rounding the car and getting in. "I'm taking you to my place where we can get your wound treated, and you'll see Sidekick."
"You left them at your place?" Hero's eyebrows shoot up when Villain nods in confirmation. "Alone?"
"No, with my younger siblings," they respond vaguely, swerving through city traffic with masterful precision. Hero blinks, surprise colouring their features yet again. "Siblings? As in, plural?" They feel stupid, especially now that they know Villain had more intel on them than the agency ever had on Villain's past.
"Yes, Hero, plural," the criminal admits begrudgingly, like they did not just reveal that information themselves. They take a turn out of the city centre into the suburban area, the skyline changing from glass skyscrapers to private houses with red tin roofs and small green gardens.
"Oooh, so you're the eldest kid in a big family?" Hero murmurs knowingly, looking out of the car window at the neighbourhood to hide their smile. "No wonder you're evil," they add, not exactly mocking.
"Excuse me?" Villain raises an eyebrow, but their fingers drumming on the steering wheel give away the lack of anger.
Hero throws their head back against the seat, laughing heartily. They glance at Villain after a moment with a new level of familiarity. "So, you have a high schooler too?"
"Yeah, one of them," Villain admits, the expression in their eyes shifting imperceptively. They cannot help turning soft when talking about their siblings, and Hero finds that absolutely adorable.
"Should we get them on a playdate?" Hero grins just as they turn into the driveway of a neat two-storey house with an overgrown garden in the front.
"Over my dead body!" Villain snaps as they step out of the car, eyes flaring up with strong protectiveness when they spot Sidekick rush out of the house and into Hero's arms, one of their siblings following in tail. "Better yet, I'll murder your sibling if they try dating my-"
"Are you sure?" Sidekick chimes in before Hero can utter a word, immediately catching the topic and letting go of Hero as a shit-eating grin blooms on their unmasked face. "It could warrant double dates."
With a wink at Villain's younger sibling, they bolt away before Villain has time to process and choke the life out of them. Once they do, though, Villain unceremoniously starts after them across the garden to the house, yelling at the top of their lungs. "Get back here, you little shit!"
Masterlist
A/N: Hi sweetheart! I know this is very (very!) late but I still hope you'll see this and will enjoy it. There is a bit of a deviation from the original idea. Let me know what you think, loves!
After some careful deliberation (read: trying and failing to get back on track and write regularly), I figured I need a bit of a boost to get through my pile of requests without feeling overwhelmed.
After some careful deliberation (read: trying and failing to get back on track and write regularly), I figured I need a bit of a boost to get through my pile of requests without feeling overwhelmed.
May I request a hero interrogating a winged villain, whom is being difficult, cocky and snooty, before the hero discovers the power of the underside of wings being rubbed? (In-case ya don't know, petting the underside of a bird's wings causes them to perceive you as its lover!)
The sun had long set behind the horizon when Hero let out a quiet groan, fed up with Villain's snooty attitude. "You are in no position to be so difficult, you know that?"
Villain scoffs, his lips stretching into a cocky smirk. "Difficult, am I?" He asks, licking a drop of blood from the corner of his banged-up lip - a consequence of slamming face-first into a wall when Hero decided to be an ass and throw bolas at him. The devious thing wrapped around his wings, sending him crashing into a wall.
"Just answer the damn question so we can both rest," Hero demands, her tone coloured by exasperation. "It's the usual procedure; why are you being so-" She cuts off to avoid repeating the same sentence.
"Difficult?" Villain grins, satisfied with being a nuisance. "Oh, cause I wanna," he muses, leaning forward with his chest pressed to the edge of the table.
Hero throws her head back, letting out another malcontent sound. "You have no idea how tired I am of your antics!" She complains, running a hand over her face.
Her demeanour reveals her exhaustion, which only serves to make Villain's grin wider. "Good. I like being a pain in your ass," he claims, chuckling with the most infuriating expression on his face.
"Pain, huh?" Hero sneers, getting up from her chair across from Villain and rounding the table. "Should I show you pain, then?" She asks, gripping one of Villain's wings and lifting it in a harsh manner.
Villain freezes, colour draining from his skin momentarily only to bloom again, tainting his cheeks and ears in a faint pink flush. The words die on his tongue, his mouth dry.
"Should I chop it off?" Hero doesn't seem to notice yet, using the tip of a blade to brush the feathers on the underside of his wings.
Villain bites his bottom lip, struggling to suppress the shiver running down his spine. "S-stop that," he demands, sounding weak even to his ear. Her touch had no business feeling that good.
Still oblivious to the effect, Hero continued, running her fingers over his wing, rubbing the smooth feathers, and using her nails to gently scratch them. "Scared that I'll take your wings away?" She murmurs, leaning closer to whisper into Villain's ear.
"Scared?" Villain breathes out, aiming to distract himself with semantics to avoid revealing his state. "That's an unfortunate choice of words, I'm afraid."
"Don't like my wording?" Hero questions, perching on the armrest of Villain's chair, her hand still caressing the underside of his left wing. "What word would you use?"
Villain opens his mouth to try and formulate a response when Hero's gaze drifts down, catching something she wasn't meant to see. "Did you just get... hard?"
"N-no," Villain's immediate reaction is to deny the painfully obvious response of his body to Hero's strokes against the very - very - sensitive part of his wing.
Hero quirks a brow, the corner of her mouth twitching up. She tries to keep her voice neutral, but a note of amusement seeps in despite herself. "Are you serious?"
"Ugh..." Villain's brain waves a white flag in surrender and refuses to cooperate further, leaving him stranded, flustered and blushing.
"Are they erogenous?" Hero asks, her excitement barely contained. This development was nothing short of shocking but, at the same time, - delightfully thrilling in its unexpected nature, which it should never have been. How was she this slow on the uptake?
"N-no..?" Villain tries acting dumb as a last resort, even if his plan is doomed for failure. There is no use denying it now when his predicament is visible and painful against his tight uniform.
Hero narrows her eyes at that, her smirk growing into a wicked smile. "Really now? So you won't be affected if I do this?" She muses, allowing her fingers to brush through the feathers again - from the middle of the wing to its base and back, earning a strangled sound from the back of his throat.
He tries his absolute best to stay in control, but it's useless to try when her fingertips stroke the skin where the wing attaches to his back.
Villain moans. Pathetically so. "Oh lord... p-please, stop," he mutters, his head dropping forward.
"You sure?" Hero chuckles, shaking her head before pulling her hand away. Villain can only nod, not a single proper thought crossing his now titillated mind. He almost regrets asking her to stop touching him, his hands clenched into fists in his lap. It doesn't escape Hero's eye.
"Are you gonna be a good boy and tell me what I need to know?" She asks with a sly smile, knowing perfectly well she has the upper hand now as she speaks against his ear, her lips grazing the shell in a tantalizing caress. "I promise to make it worth your while."
"Enough!" Villain growls lowly, his eyes intense and hungry, contradicting the warning in his tone, "You don't understand the implications of this."
Hero lets out a short laugh, taking hold of Villain's chin and tilting his face towards her, "I have a degree in ornithology," she informs as if it were a trivial detail.
Villain's eyes widen, his jaw dropping open at the sudden revelation. He can't find it in himself to utter a single word as he watches Hero's hand return to the underside of his wing, her touch reverent and cautious so as not to hurt, "I know what it means, love."
Masterlist
A/N: Hi dear! First of all, I did not possess this type of information but hell if I wasn't excited! Thank you so much for the request (and educating me, lol) ♡ I had a blast writing this, hope you'll enjoy reading :)
(PS. I LOVED REMEMBER IT WAS SO GOOD, CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO ENEMIES TO LOVERS?! YOU ATE THAT UP)
Weapon of choice
A/N: Thank you so much for reading and for this request, sweetheart! You asked, so I shall write it :) Hope you'll enjoy reading this!
Warnings: bad flirting(?), teasing, a couple smooches.
Hero was the absolute worst.
Or so they felt every time they made Villain blush so bad their nemesis looked like they'd pop an aneurism any second. Hero felt terrible, really did.
But they couldn't help themself - Villain looked too sweet for their own good. The way their skin flushed made Hero feral. Villain didn't help their case - with the way they would bite their plump bottom lip when flustered or run a hand through their deep brown locks. Delicious little thing.
Their costume only made matters worse - black latex hugging their form in all the right places, the mask covering half their face, leaving out enough to spark curiosity but remain a mystery, still. It was more than Hero could handle - intrigued beyond belief but left starving for more.
They layered it on thick. Seizing Villain from behind and pressing up against them, whispering into their ear, breath hot against Villain's skin. And Villain? Villain remained unresponsive. They would blush, of course. Mutter something under their breath or try to stammer something out loud when they feel fearless.
How dense could Villain be to not have figured things out by now? The blatant flirting, Hero's obvious infatuation, the teasing remarks, and, at times, direct expressions of interest - all went right over Villain's head. It was becoming frustrating, in all honesty.
Hero hoped it was because Villain was not familiar with their usual style, being a newbie in their field of work and most likely in the city, as well. But even so, it was taking Villain a little too long, and their patience was running thin, their flirting becoming more and more intense.
Villain always assumed Hero was mocking them with the way their touch remained soft. Like Villain couldn't handle the annihilating entirety of their strength. This only fueled their desire to be the best enemy Hero has ever had, to be worthy of the honour of fighting against someone who defeated every other criminal in the city.
Hero was the best of the best. They were also attractive. No, scratch that, Hero was utterly, breathtakingly, devastatingly beautiful. A fact that presumably had nothing to do with their aspiration to prove themself.
If there was something Villain would never admit to, it would be this. Their knees went weak every time Hero touched them. Every. Single. Time. Whether it was mid-battle, during arrest or when Villain slipped through their fingers. Again.
The cat-and-mouse game had been going on for several months by now; today not serving any exclusion from their routine dynamic. That is until Hero decided to take it up a notch. To test Villain's boundaries. It wasn't supposed to result in anything, with Villain being more oblivious than a blind bat. Or so they thought.
"Pick your weapon," Villain murmurs with a smug grin, acting like the little shit that they were and standing at an arm's length from their nemesis.
"Oh, I did," Hero smirks; a low hum rumbling through their chest as they reach out, gripping Villain's belt and yanking them forward. With their chests pressed flush against each other, Hero leans closer, smooching Villain's cheek, the kiss landing on the masked part. They pull away immediately to observe Villain's reaction and note (with pleasure) the redness creeping up their neck.
"Wha-" they try, but Hero interrupts them with a kiss on the other cheek, still not touching their skin. Villain's voice dies in the back of their throat as they gape at Hero, their expression comical.
"What?" Hero asks with the most shit-eating grin possible, enjoying Villain's confusion. "That's my weapon of choice. Objections?"
"N-no?" Villain stammers, their mouth slightly agape. They wonder if they should surrender now or keep up the fight for the sake of getting more strikes.
"Is that a question or a statement?" Hero chuckles, running their tongue over their lips to wet them, their gaze never leaving Villain's face.
"Uh..." They gulp, glancing at Hero's lips, not a single thought in their head. "What was the question?" They mutter under their breath.
Hero huffs out a laugh, shaking their head at Villain's bewildered state. "Never mind," they murmur, wrapping an arm around Villain's waist. "Where were we?"
"You were, um, attacking with your weapon of choice," Villain whispers, their eyes darting to Hero's mouth again before returning to their face.
"Oh yeah?" Hero hums, their smirk softening. "Should I go for the final blow, or do you want to... retaliate?"
Villain purses their lips, considering the options while they look around the empty rooftop they ended up on. "I could retaliate, but you should show me what you've got first," they murmur, their hands sliding up Hero's shoulders at a slow, deliberate pace and moving to the back of their neck, fingers tangling in their hair.
The touch sends a shiver of pleasure down Hero's spine, earning a satisfied growl from their chest as they speak, their voice rumbling with unrestrained need. "Took you long enough," they mutter before crushing their mouth to Villain's with unabashed passion.
Warnings: Flirty. Spicy. Suggestive. Sexual tension. Minors DNI. Heavily inspired by Austin Giordio - You put a spell on me
The night air is crisp and still, causing a chill to run down Hero's spine as she paces the balcony of her apartment. She must be losing her mind.
She takes a drag from her cigarette, exhaling the smoke into the cold night. The front door slams shut behind her date, and when she glances down, she catches a glimpse of him storming to his car. The tyres screech when he rounds the corner, no doubt rushing to find a more willing option before the night is over.
Hero grits her teeth. Another short-lived relationship down the drain. She takes another drag, flicking ash against the balcony railing.
She couldn't do it. Again.
As insane as it sounded, every time a man tried touching her, Hero reeled back like he was the most revolting creature she had ever seen. And the thing is, this one wasn't. He was decent looking - cute, even. Charming in a way that could have fooled a less perceptive woman. But the moment his hand touched her waist, Hero recoiled with an actual, full-body flinch. He looked at her like she was weird, and if Hero was honest, she felt so too.
Nothing made sense anymore. The first time she shut down like that, it was a guy she barely knew. Hero isn't particularly proud of it, but she didn't even know his name. It was a pathetic attempt at a one-night stand, one she ended up leaving hot and bothered because her unconscious decided to rebel.
Hero figured it was a defence mechanism - her mind protecting her from something that was out of her comfort zone. Her next attempt at intimacy ended up just as ill-fated. This one was very familiar to her - a colleague from her agency, someone she had seen every day for three years and had had relatively interesting conversations with. Alas, when his nose brushed the side of her neck, Hero all but launched him across the bloody room.
Broken ribs and a concussion should have been warning enough for everyone, so the next time a guy hit on her, Hero was caught off guard. Still, she gave it a chance, still hopeful. Then came the city hall gala. Hero went with him as her plus one, because it was expected and because he had been her boyfriend long enough. Big mistake. The dude decided to press her up in a dark corner, assuming she'd be too embarrassed to cause a scene at a public event. His assumption proved painfully wrong. Needless to say, that relationship ended with the siren of the ambulance taking him away.
The last one - her current ex-boyfriend swore to be patient. In all fairness, he took his time with her, warming her up over numerous dates. Hope had sparked up in Hero's chest again, and this time, she made an effort to prepare herself. Meditations, exposure building from holding hands to lingering hugs, and a warm bath before the date today. She even had camomile tea, which tasted like regret, but she ignored the taste in favour of finally getting past her inhibition. But the moment his hand shifted on her thigh, it all went to hell.
She reeled back. He tried grabbing her again. She pushed him away, shutting down completely. And then he blew up on her, patience running thin after three months of dating. Now that she thought about it, Hero hated herself for feeling guilty and apologising when he blamed her for wasting his time.
She groans, lifting her hand to her lips to take another drag of the cigarette, when someone plucks it from her fingers. Her head whips to the side, catching sight of Villain, perched up on the railing like a damn cat.
"What the hell-" She starts, but Villain unceremoniously interrupts her. Not that it was a new occurrence, since Villain had a habit of mysteriously appearing anytime she was in desperate need of company.
"Smoking doesn't suit you, darlin'," he drawls with an infuriating smirk, taking her cigarette into his mouth. "Since when do you indulge my vices?"
Hero rolls her eyes, returning her gaze to the horizon. "Good evening to you, too. What the hell are you doing here?"
"I was on my way to my evil lair, planning my wonderfully evil deeds for tomorrow, when I noticed a pitiful sight - my dear nemesis, smoking all alone on the balcony. Figured I should drop by and say hi," he shrugs, putting the cigarette out and grinning at her, "So, hi."
"Idiot," Hero snorts despite herself, folding her arms and leaning on the railing. She'd be lying if she said the company wasn't welcome. For some reason, the bantering with Villain put her at ease at times like this. "Hello to you too."
"May I ask why you're out here? Bad date again?" Villain questions, his gaze shamelessly trailing her bent form. Hero catches where his eyes are going and straightens up with a pointed look in his direction. "Hey, don't ruin my view."
"Oh, sod off," she grumbles, but the corner of her lips curls up treacherously. She coughs to hide it, not bothering to ask how he knew. "You're staring."
Villain grins, the gleam in his eyes turning wicked as he drawls. "I know." There's something unabashedly open in him that makes Hero's skin crawl in the sweetest way possible.
She crosses her arms under her chest and raises a brow in a challenge, not sure if she wants him to stop or keep going.
Villain tilts his head to the side at the gesture, his expression pensive when he mutters. "That's hot," he pauses, struggling with himself. He's a breath away from pouncing on her. "Don't do that if you don't want me doing more than ogling you."
"W-hat?" Hero almost stutters. Almost. She catches herself before her voice can waver, swallowing thickly at the intensity of his gaze and angling her body toward the skyline to avoid looking straight at him.
Villain jumps off the railing, stepping closer. He's much larger than Hero - not that she ever had trouble overpowering him with her wits - but he towers over her. He takes another step, his dark figure ominous in the dark.
Hero doesn't glance at him for the sake of her sanity. She's riled up from her unsuccessful date and, fine, maybe she was flirting a little, just to feel a little normal again, but this... this is dangerous. It's a matter of time before it gets out of hand, and Hero knows it will get nowhere with her issue.
"I think it's time you left-" She starts, but Villain's hand grabs her chin, interrupting her attempt at diffusing the tension.
He tilts her face towards him, thumb brushing over her bottom lip. Hero registers her breath hitching audibly on the peripherals of her thinking, not quite present in her mind when his fingers slide down the side of her neck, halting where her pulse is spiking into a crazy drumming rhythm.
Villain's eyes are dark when she meets them, his hand on her neck scorching against her feverish skin. His gaze flickers to the pulse point under his thumb, rubbing the spot before his hand trails down her neck, slow and sensual on a level that feels new to Hero. His touch is tender and, to her surprise, doesn't cause her to spiral yet. "You'd better stop," she mutters, her fingers wrapping around his wrist.
"I can't help myself," Villain murmurs, looking into her eyes for confirmation that he's not the only one losing his mind, under the spell of the tension brewing between them.
And then his arm is wrapping itself around her waist, and his lips are on hers in a fervent kiss. Hero gasps into his mouth and, before she knows it, she's melting into him, kissing him back with equal fervour. That's all that it takes for Villain to lose all control, pressing his body against hers so hard it rattles the railing behind her. His hands slide down her body, mapping her silhouette in their descent, before grabbing her hips with both hands to pull her tighter against his body.
Hero's head is spinning, her hands clenching into his costume. It's much more contact than she's ever allowed any of her dates, but she doesn't process it yet, her mind occupied with the sensations of Villain's hands and mouth. He breaks away from her swollen lips, trailing his open mouth along her jawline, kissing and nipping at the base of it where he murmurs into her skin, "You're mine."
Hero would love to protest, she really would. Part of her is protesting on the inside, banging against the bones of her skull because he's a nemesis, an enemy, but it's silenced damn quickly when his mouth attaches to her neck. Any objections she had dissolved into a breathless whisper. "Villain..."
"Shh," he hushes, his hold on her like a vice, "been drivin' me insane, runnin' me in circles," he mutters against her skin like a confession, tongue dragging a line along one of her collarbones. "Makin' me hunt you down."
"I wasn't," Hero tries to counter, one of her hands coming up to the back of his head, tangling into his hair and tugging to make him look at her. "Don’t think I can escape."
Villain chuckles at that, the sound low and hoarse from arousal, then pulls away, earning a sound of surprised protest from Hero. "I don't see you trying," he growls, turning her around and pressing the length of his body against her from the back. He bends her forward over the railing, his chest pressed to her back to keep her in that position, when his hips rock forward against her ass. His arms wrap around her middle in an iron hold, and his mouth finds her neck again, sucking on the skin until it's red and close to bruising. He knows it will leave a mark, and Hero suspects that's the plan.
"You're mine tonight." It's not a question - he's stating a claim, and Hero huffs to put up a semblance of a fight despite not minding in the slightest. Villain grins in response to her half-hearted attempt, dragging his nose up her neck until he reaches the sensitive spot below her ear, "You're not going to want an out, baby."
Before she can say anything else, Villain has scooped her up in his arms, carrying her inside her apartment. The dim light of the night sky barely illuminates the room, but Villain doesn't need to see; the floor swallows their clothes in mere seconds, his skilful hands peeling off layer by layer until Hero's bare and shivering in his arms. He lays her down on her cold bed - one he intends to keep warm all night - and when he finally loses himself in her, Hero can't remember what it felt like to not have him touching her.
It's hours later, when the morning light filters through the thin curtains of her bedroom, that Hero remembers she had issues with physical contact. Villain's arm is still around her, holding her back against his chest securely, his face nuzzles into the back of her neck, pressing a kiss there before mumbling in a rough voice, "You're thinking too loud."
Hero laughs, shaking her head and covering his hand on her stomach with her own, "I never thought it could be this easy," she mutters, not quite comfortable with voicing her previous problems, "to let someone touch me."
Villain nods, his hand rubbing soothing circles against her skin, "You needed the right person." He says it with such conviction that it catches Hero's attention, prompting her to think of how they ended up here, "Hold up, you knew?"
"Oh, baby," he quirks an eyebrow at the simple question, smirking as he leans over to plant tiny kisses over her cheek, "Your troubles with intimate dates or our sexual tension?"
"Both," Hero's response is instant - curiosity and slight annoyance with his perceptiveness sparking into a steady flame of suspicion.
Villain knows she already knows the answer, but responds anyway. "Yes. Why do you think I knew exactly when to drop by your place for a chat?"
She turns her head on the pillow, narrowing her eyes at him, which Villain, unfortunately for her, finds adorable. Villain continues, his expression a bit too cocky for her liking, "Besides, I wanted to see how long it would take for your smart ass to figure out you aren't wrong or broken, you're only mine. That's why no one else could get you to accept them."
"Oh, so you mean to tell me you were waiting for me to - what, jump you?" Hero retorts, though it lacks any fire whatsoever. If anything, she's glad to be finally relieved of her concerns.
"Ideally? Yes," He grins, making her groan at his smug response and pull away to get up, but Villain laughs, dragging her back into him and turning her over so she is facing him. "I might have thought about taking you right then and there on that balcony more than once."
"Shut up!" Hero covers her face with both hands, mortified and aroused at the same time. Villain chuckles again, pressing a kiss to her forehead before choosing to add fuel to the fire because he can't help himself, not when she looks this cute in her flustered state.
"Still happening, you know? You'll look gorgeous bent over that railing- ow!" Hero slaps his shoulder, shutting him down and earning a shit-eating grin from the worst nemesis of all time, who still cannot control his damn mouth for the life of him. "Alright, alright, I'll stop... for now."
A/N: Hi loves! Ugh, it's so good to be back! I'm not going to talk much, just hope you enjoy this :) Let me know what you think!
I can't even begin to tell you all of the obstacles I've had to go through in that time - might consider pouring all of my academic frustration into academic rivals stories at this point xD (You may send requests on the topic btw)
Anyway, I have a PhD now! Dr Sunny if you will :)
Well, I had my defense and the confirmation takes a few months... but my job is done and all is left is waiting and hopefully getting back to my hobbies. Missed this space so much. Missed interactions even more.
Love you guys.
Hopefully will get back to you with more writing now that I'm free.
saw this being debated and just wanted to talk about it too.
"is it rude if I politely ask a writer if they use ai or chatgpt on their works because I'm almost certain they do?"
yes, it is rude. no matter how polite you are being when you ask them this.
you say you are almost certain. so you are not absolutely certain.
unless you are absolutely, undoubtedly certain — with actual proof — that their writing is ai generated, never ever ask an artist if their work is ai generated.
I know several writers who would stop writing and delete all of their works if they were ever accused of using ai. so it doesn't matter if you are polite when you ask them this, you are suggesting that their works are ai generated, that they didn't create the works they could have spent hours, days, weeks, months or years working on.
ai and chatgpt are trained on real humans' works, they are trained to mimic the way real humans write. so if you say a genuine writer's work "looks ai", I'm gonna have to ask you what you think ai was trained on.
a writer whose English isn't their first language may also write in a way that "looks ai" to some, if they write in English and have to rely on translator.
using em dash isn't a sign of ai. I do it all the time. my fellow writers all love em dash.
having long paragraphs with "overly described scenes" isn't a sign of ai. I do it all the time, and so do my fellow writers.
all the "ai signs" are actually just what most writers actually do. they get mistaken for "ai signs" because sometimes the way writers write or describe a scene in a fanfic or an original work is different than the way people talk or text. because they're writing a fic and describing a scene, not chatting with a friend. the way I talk is different than the way I write my fics.
if you suspect a work was ai generated, but are not 100% sure, you can always just stop reading said work without saying anything.
if someone does use ai to write, they will either a.) deny and continue using ai to write or b.) admit because they see nothing wrong with it and continue using ai to write.
if a genuine writer was wrongly accused of using ai, they may stop writing altogether.
asking a writer if they use ai or chatgpt to write will always do more harm than good. witch hunting will always do more harm than good.
you are not "fighting against ai" by throwing around such accusations. you are harming genuine writers and artists.
all of the fanfic writers, whom I personally know, say the same thing that they would feel discouraged and might delete all their works if they were asked this.
it’s not “hey do you like x or y” question. it’s a subtle implication that your work looks like it was written by a robot within a minute. if you personally don’t find that offensive, that’s cool. but I know a lot of writers do. and they have the rights to be discouraged by it.
also we are talking about fanfic writers who write as their hobby, getaway or safe place, writers whose works you read for free. not writers who sell their works and are making profit from what they write. fanfic writers don’t owe you anything.
This just came across my dash. I'm going to be blunt.
Asking a writer or artist if they “use AI” is an accusation, no matter how you dress it up. It’s not neutral. It implies you think their effort, style, or voice is artificial. It implies that their human work doesn’t look human enough for you.
You don’t protect the community by policing people who are actually creating from scratch. You protect it by supporting human creators, reporting confirmed AI misuse when there’s evidence, and learning the difference between this sounds different than what I’d write and this is machine-generated.
Writers—especially fanfic authors—already pour their time, emotion, and identity into what they share for free. They don’t owe anyone proof of authenticity on top of that. And if your question makes someone want to quit writing, it’s not protecting the community. It’s shrinking it.
If you’re not 100% sure, just scroll. AI ethics don’t need to turn into public inquisition season.
Legit had to pause and rewind the other day when I realised I was trying to restructure my sentence to avoid using an em dash... because it might look generated. And the problem is, some of my writing CAN look like AI because I'm influenced by my academic writing style—scientific articles that require a certain level of pompous rigidity—and that may transpire into my creative work. I overly describe as well. Because I grew up on classical literature, that's how I picture those stories.
So yes, you might wrongfully assume that someone uses AI because of their style. The question here, however, isn't about using anything. It's something else entirely.
What is the purpose for writing?
To truly write and connect with people, one needs to have passion for it. Otherwise all of their writing is going to be generic. Something that's already out there. Simply because AI has no creativity, no human experience, and no pain. It cannot CREATE. All it can do is replicate. No replicas are ever as good as original art. No replica is ever going to be as good, as emotionally charged, and as gut-wrenchingly true as human writing. To write something that touches people, an author needs to peel their own self open, layer by layer, and reveal the darkest, most vulnerable corners of their soul and psyche. You cannot fake it. Nor can AI.
Warnings: voodoo practices, occultism, torment & control, wounds (somewhat grafic), blood, mentions of suffocation and burning, but a good ending. Based on Voodoo by Voilà.
Everything hurt.
Hero couldn't remember when was the last morning they didn't wake up to piercing pain in a part of their body - one or another. As if someone was sticking pins right through their chest, stomach, limbs, eyes. Each and every part of them. One at a time - to keep them on their toes.
It wasn't always pain, either. Sometimes, they felt like their entire body was burning, but they had no fever. They could almost smell gasoline; could almost hear the sound of the match being lit. And then their body would be consumed by insatiable fire, flaming through their being and curdling the blood in their veins.
Other times, they felt ice cold and suffocated - as if they were drowning in the air around them, their lungs aching and heart beating in their throat at the bruising vices around their chest. They would wake up with wounds all over their body, some looking like simple cuts, others more reminiscent of stabs.
They became ruthless in fights, to the point of surprising their unchanging nemesis with the newfound brutality. Villain ascribed their reactions to being exhausted or under pressure, but Hero knew it wasn't them. Not really. They did not want to hurt their favourite enemy, yet they did it anyway, pushed forward by uncontrollable bloodlust.
Hero tried playing it cool. At first. Seeing doctors and the supervisor; installing cameras in their bedroom to try and track where the wounds came from. Nothing worked. Needless to say, "playing it cool" didn't last long. They were teetering on the edge, dangerously close to a breakdown.
Then came the stigmata. Gaping wounds in the centres of their palms, bleeding over their sheets. It terrified the living lights out of Hero. The next few days after that morning were uneventful, but when the wounds on their hands had started to heal, they jolted awake again, with the old stigmata torn open again, blood gushing from their palms. It pushed them over the edge, causing a harsh landing somewhere they least expected.
Even the conversation with a priest did not provide clarity whatsoever, leaving Hero to deal with the mystery on their own. It was three days - and another excruciating morning - later that Hero ended up battling Villain.
They were in the middle of the fight, guns blazing and fists flying, when Hero failed to dodge a blow, hissing when their hand hit the wall. It must have opened up their wound because blood started seeping through their glove, staining the fabric and causing Villain to pause.
They gripped Hero's wrist with urgency, ripping the glove off them and staring wide-eyed. "What the hell is this?"
If only Hero had an idea. They gaped at Villain, inspecting their reaction.
"How long have you had this?" Villain spoke again, letting go of their wrist and reaching for the other. Hero swatted their hand away. "This too?"
A short nod was all Villain needed for confirmation. "How long?" They repeat, something unreadable flickering in their eyes.
"Couple weeks," Hero muttered, letting out a heavy sigh. "I wake up like this," they lift a palm before continuing. "In pain, burning up like I'm at a stake, suffocating like someone's choking me..."
Villain takes it all in, not interrupting as the floodgates are thrown open and Hero's pain rushes out in waves of agonizing confessions. They seem to catch themself soon, realizing they're spilling their state to the enemy. "Look, it's none-"
"Anything else?" Villain cut them off, tilting Hero's chin up to take a proper look at their face. They don't need Hero's answer - they can tell it's a resounding yes. Villain takes a moment to mentally list all of the signs they've failed to read before. "You started acting unlike yourself - against your will - about the same time as the other symptoms appeared?"
"Yes," Hero inhales sharply, bracing themself before voicing their question, though it sounds more like a statement. "You know what it is?"
"I think I do," Villain confirms their suspicion, letting go of Hero's chin, a sheen of sweat covering their forehead at the realization. "Follow me."
Hero has no chance to protest, and quite frankly, they're in no position to. They allow Villain to take the lead - soon finding themself in Villain's secret apartment.
"There's food in the fridge and the spare towels are in the cabinet across the sink," Villain instructs, walking through the apartment in search of certain things. Once they locate a leather-bound folio, they turn to face Hero. "Stay inside, I'll be back soon."
"What is that for?" Hero's attention shifts to the book that reminds them of... "You think it's witchcraft?!" Their eyes widen, an involuntary gasp leaving their lips.
"Not witchcraft," Villain shakes their head, something dark coming to life in the depth of their eyes. "I didn't expect your supervisor to play with dolls. He's more old-school than I thought."
"What do you mean? Is he in my head?" Hero mutters, confusion colouring their expression. They glance down, noticing the small effigy in Villain's hand. Voodoo doll. "You think he's using that on me? Don't answer that-"
Villain nods, picking up a box full of pins. "He has no idea who he's dealing with. Can't outplay me on my field."
"Villain, I-" Hero tries to come up with something to say, but their voice dies down, at a loss for words.
"I can deal with him. A pin through the heart is all it takes," they squeeze Hero's shoulder for reassurance, their hand lingering for a moment too long. "Rest. I need to get your doll so we can destroy it."
"I can find it while you deal with my supervisor," Hero argues, shaking their head at the idea of resting. How can they?
"No. You don't know how to handle such a doll; I cannot let you touch it." Villain sighs, stopping them with a hand against their chest. "I promise everything will heal. Just rest, okay?"
With nothing left to say or do, Hero simply nods, stepping back. They see Villain off before walking towards the bathroom for a hopefully calming shower to help them handle the wait.
A/N: Never thought I'd be celebrating two (2!) years of writing on Tumblr. What a journey! 💫
Two years in this community, two years of your support and sweetest words, two years of feeling heard and looking forward to returning after a busy day. Needless to say, I've loved every minute of it ☀️
This community has been my safe haven. Thank you for being here, for reading, for engaging with my stories. Love you 💛
Hellooooooo, fantastic human! I heard you were looking for requests so ask and I shall deliver:
Hero is sleeping on their couch when villain barges in to kidnap them but they notice how tired the hero seems and takes care of them.
Ofc its your choice if you want to do it or not, totally fine if you decide not to! Good luck with your writing :)
-🤎
Standards
The lock clicks, opening with too little effort. Villain’s brows furrow in expectation of a blast from the inside. Several moments pass in deafening silence, but there is no movement to indicate an attack. Villain takes a deep breath, pushes the door open and slips in without a sound. Behind them, the door shuts with another soft click, leaving them alone in what they believe to be their enemy’s lair.
The apartment is smaller than they’d expected and a lot messier. It’s almost as if no one lives here, but Villain knew for a fact this was the only place their Hero had. They look around before taking a few careful steps forward, stopping every now and then to listen.
Suspicion rises with every quiet step. It can’t be this easy, can it? It’s only when they cross the corridor that they hear faint shallow breaths coming from what looks like the living room. It’s even darker here, so their eyes take a few seconds to adjust.
Hero is fast asleep on the couch. Villain huffs, baffled at such a lack of precaution. What were they thinking with that single lock being their only protection? It almost annoys them because, honestly, Villain has standards. And this situation does not meet any of them.
They try to take a step forward, struggling because the floor is covered in trash. Mostly takeout boxes, the villain notes, rolling their eyes. No wonder Hero seems weaker recently. Probably hasn’t had a proper meal in ages.
They come to a halt by the couch, deliberating whether this could even be considered a kidnapping.
When the hero finally wakes up, slowly opening their eyes, the sun is high in the sky. Something smells divine right by their side, so they turn their head only to jolt up at the sight of their clean apartment and a cup of coffee with pancakes resting on the bedside table. Wait a minute. They did not make it to their bed last night. They were certain they fell face first on the couch, unable to move even a muscle.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Villain exclaims, alerting the hero into an upright position. “I was starting to worry you’d sleep till December.”
“Did I miss one of your attacks or something?” Hero inquired, their brain short-circuiting at the sight of Villain. In their apartment. With one of their cups in hand. “What are you doing?”
“See, I was going to kidnap you but decided against it,” Villain explains, taking a seat at the edge of Hero’s bed. “It would be no fun. You are supposed to be making this fun, and you’re failing.” Hero could swear they almost pouted.
“Well, excuse me for not providing the entertainment you desire,” they offered. Villain hummed, taking a big gulp of their coffee. “I have a lot on my plate, and I’m not in the mood to play games.” The offended look on Villain’s face was an act, Hero thought. They must be planning something.
“You should have killed me while I was asleep.” This time Villain looks genuine as he blinks, taken aback and if Hero didn’t know any better, they’d say hurt.
“Killed you?” They ask in a tiny voice. Who said anything about killing? They were only having fun ‘fighting’ each other, were they not? Villain might have gone a bit too far trying to annoy Hero a couple of times, but nothing more than that. It was their job, after all. Annoying the life out of cute heroes. One particular hero, that is.
Something about the way their expression switches makes Hero want to apologize. “Is that not why you sneaked into my apartment in the first place?”
Villain stands up, finishing their coffee and setting the cup on the bedside table. They cross the room, turning around and leaning against the doorframe.
“Why would I kill you, darling? Now that certainly wouldn’t add to your entertainment value,” they say with a small smile before disappearing from view.
The front door opens, then clicks shut. Hero shakes their head, a light chuckle escapes their lips as they reach for the steaming cup to their side.
Hiiii! Thank you so much for the request! You're amazing! It just immediately set me into a mood. I simply needed to write this. Anyhow, I hope you like it, I sure had a blast writing it!
Today marks three years since I've started this blog... What a journey!
I don't know what to say. I have loved writing every single story we have here, have loved receiving the wonderful requests and getting a glimpse into your creative minds and if I've managed to make your ideas come to life in my stories, then it was worth it.
Thank you so much for reading, sharing and expressing your thoughts and feelings. You make this place feel like coming home and for that, I am grateful.
In which Hero arrives home after a long day only to find Villain sitting under their Christmas tree like a present Hero never dared to ask for.
Warnings: suggestive (clearly), cute spice
The last weeks of December were something akin to torment. The season of giving meant the resurgence of crime, thus leading to late hours and unending shifts for Hero. Christmas Eve was no different. They spent the entire day dashing from one part of the city to the other, only to end up missing several key attacks, deemed more important by the mayor and being reprimanded by the main asshole of the town. Hero was seconds away from smashing the idiot's face in when the bells of the city cathedral started ringing. The early mass was about to begin.
Hero cursed under their breath, finally remembering what day it was. With a sigh, they stepped away. Now that their patrol was over, Hero wanted one thing and one thing only - to crawl into bed and remain under the covers for the entire holiday season, preferably with something - or someone - warm under their arm. With the second option being as unrealistic as it gets, Hero had no choice but to opt for the more probable one.
By the time they get home, the clock chimes quarter to midnight. They don't bother with dinner, dropping their suit onto the floor and planting face-first on the mattress, somehow managing to pull their pyjamas on in that position.
With how exhausted they are it's no surprise they fail to notice the soft tapping sound from downstairs - someone's bare feet against their kitchen tiles. However, the tapping noise continues, followed by clanking of ceramics. That finally draws Hero's mind out of the blissful hazy state, prompting them to turn over with a deep groan, their eyes still shut. A part of them wishes to allow the intruder to rob them to avoid getting up. If they are a failure to the city, they might as well let this crime slide.
It's at that moment that their brain catches up to the thoughts drifting lazily in it, prompting them to jolt into an upright position on the bed. No one would break into their house when there are better (and less secure) places to rob.
They take a moment to listen as the soft tapping of feet comes once more, moving about their house with purpose. This forces Hero out of bed, as they rub their eyes, tiptoeing out of their bedroom and down the corridor, ears on high alert for any weird noises. Except it's not a noise that catches their attention this time. Why the hell are the lights on their Christmas tree on?
Hero prances down the stairs, squinting in the dark as they scan the hallway and the front door, noting that it's locked. They take a deep breath before stepping into the living room, illuminated by the soft glow of the flickering Christmas lights, only to find Villain sitting under the tree. Like a goddamn present. In fucking pyjamas. With a cup of hot chocolate in hand.
"What the..." Hero's voice dies down, their thoughts trailing off in utter confusion. They rub their eyes to make sure they're not hallucinating the little shit of an enemy they had since day one of becoming a hero.
"Hi," Villain looks up with a toothy - and breathtaking - grin, taking a sip of their drink and releasing a satisfied hum at the warm feeling.
"Excuse me?" Hero squeaks, incredulous and slightly dumbfounded by the casual demeanour of their nemesis in their home. Since when does Villain know their address? They don't manage to ask that, interrupted by the voice that intrudes their thoughts in the same unabashed manner as their house.
"You're out of marshmallows," Villain states, chuckling sheepishly as they point toward the second mug on the coffee table. "Well, now."
"Um..." What on Earth is Hero supposed to say in response to that? They freeze, gaping at Villain.
"Stop staring at me like I've grown a second head," Villain snorts, giving them a quick once-over.
Hero shuffles, Villain's gaze sending a shiver down their spine. They step closer, lowering themself on the armchair, still doubtful but finally able to form coherent sentences. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I was feeling lonely," the criminal shrugs, taking a gulp of their drink, while still maintaining intense eye contact. "You've been ignoring me."
Hero picks up their mug, tentatively sipping from it. The rich chocolaty taste fills their mouth, relaxing the lingering tension in their shoulders. "I've had a busy week."
"A lot of parties to attend?" Villain teases, leaning against the leg of the armchair behind their back. Their tone is mocking, but there is an undercurrent of curiosity in their words.
Hero rolls their eyes, huffing. "Sod off," they grumble. "I don't like those events if you weren't aware."
"I thought you loved the attention," Villain keeps pushing, eyes glistening with mischief at the prospect of getting under Hero's skin. They smirk, looking Hero up and down again, their gaze dark and charged with something unreadable. "Pity. Not just the supersuit you fill out nicely."
Hero raises their brow at their nemesis, about to comment something smart on that statement when a realisation pops into their head. "Did you just compliment me?" Their voice nearly breaks at the end, forcing a cough from their throat.
"You look hot in those PJs," Villain admits, averting their gaze to stare at the extremely enticing Christmas tree. They hope the flickering lights will suffice to mask the flush on their skin.
Hero hums, digesting the new information, their gaze trailing over Villain's body. "Can't deny you look good in yours too," they murmur, a smirk blossoming on their face as the penny finally drops.
This idiot came to spend Christmas with them. Now that was interesting enough to be out of bed tonight or get back into it later - depends on how things go. Certainly not the worst turn of events; Hero will give them that.
"Are you mocking me?" Villain asks, watching them with surprise clear in their warm brown eyes. They don't know what they were expecting from coming here, but it turned out better so far.
Hero chuckles, shaking their head at the adorable reaction. "No, I meant that," they state, sliding off their seat and onto the floor across from Villain, their knees brushing against the other's. Their nemesis looks stunned, not responding long enough for Hero's amusement to grow. "I'm glad you're here," they muse, bringing their cup up to their lips to hide the softened smile on their face.
"You..." Villain pauses long enough to fix their suddenly high-pitched voice. "Really?" They take another sip and lick melted marshmallow fluff from the edge of the mug, causing Hero's breath to hitch in their throat.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus...
"Mhm," Hero hums, downing their chocolate in one large gulp. They can feel Villain's smouldering gaze on their throat as it bops up and down. "I was craving something sweet after a long day."
"I can, um, fetch more chocolate?" Villain suggests, trying to get their mind out of the gutter yet failing miserably, their cheeks heating up even more at the thoughts running wild.
Villain is about to get up when Hero catches their wrist and pulls them onto their lap. "I'd rather have something else," Hero murmurs, pressing a kiss to the corner of their mouth.
They expect to be shoved away, maybe even slapped across the face. What Hero does not expect is for Villain to shiver and wrap their arms around their neck.
"You have some fluff left here... and here," Hero mutters between kisses before taking Villain's bottom lip into their mouth, sucking gently. Their fingers trace the curve of Villain's jaw, their free arm wrapping around their nemesis' waist, guiding them to straddle Hero.
Villain's lips part almost instinctively, allowing Hero to deepen the kiss with a deep moan in the back of their throat. Hero's grip on them tightens, pulling Villain's body flush against their chest and tangling their hand in Villain's hair.
They break apart minutes later, gasping for oxygen through heavy pants. Villain remains still in their arms, fingers idly tracing the sides of their neck. Hero peels their eyes open, resting their forehead against Villain's with a faint murmur. "You're all I need right here, underneath the tree, baby."
Villain meets their gaze with a darkened one, words dying on their swollen, reddened lips. "I-"
"Stay," is the only word Hero whispers before Villain captures their mouth in another heated kiss. Hero can't help the moan that escapes them, their hand slipping under Villain's pyjama top as they kiss them back.
"Why, because it's cold outside?" Villain jokes, earning a growling laugh from Hero. Their arm tightens around Villain's waist, their free hand sliding to grab Villain's leg as they push forward, laying Villain down on the soft carpet and hovering over them.
"Cheeky little-" Hero's words are cut short by the clock chiming midnight. They pause, looking down at Villain, sprawled out underneath them, in their starry-eyed and kiss-drunk glory. "Because I want you for Christmas."
Villain gazes up at them, licking their lips before nodding. "Merry Christmas, baby." They murmur, leaning up and brushing their lips against Hero's jawline, mouthing down their neck. Hero lets out a low moan, their hands squeezing Villain's thighs as they bring their body down, flush against Villain's.
If there is one thing Hero knows for sure it's that they won't let Villain leave when the morning comes.
A/N: I have no idea if I should even be posting this on a religious holiday, but it's Christmas-themed, so... I guess it's okay? Hopefully?
Anyway, thank you so much for reading! It's finally the end of the year so I will (I hope) have some time to write. As always, let me know what you think. And to those that are celebrating now...
villain x hero who are exes and villain is not over it?
Long Way Back: Pt 2
Part 1
Warnings: language, wounds, mentions of past falling out, second chance romance
Two hours after the mission was completed, Villain found herself in a place she never anticipated seeing again. Hero's house looked the same, the feeling utterly nostalgic as she sat on the living-room couch, leaning back to rest her pounding head and sore muscles. No one ever spoke about the way one's body tenses after a gunshot, yet to her it was one of the most uncomfortable feelings. Her entire body ached and now that the adrenaline was no longer affecting her, she felt drowsy.
Hero had been fussing around her ever since they arrived home, removing the bullet and cleaning her wound before putting on a bandage - all without saying much other than informing about what he was putting on her. With the gape finally cleaned and covered, Hero walked off to the bathroom to wash her blood off of his hands, leaving Villain to explore his place in peace - well, what he had told her was to stay still but when did Villain ever follow orders?
She looks around the cozy space, her gaze drifting over the cream coloured carpet (basic, she thinks, rolling her eyes) before landing on the picture frames above the fireplace. The entire timeline of his life was on full display. Was anyone to discover Hero's home, they'd know exactly who to hurt to get to him. Villain's eyes drift over each frame: family dinners, outings with friends, and group pictures with colleagues.
And her.
In his arms on top of the highest building in the city, cuddled up on her porch because he always loved her house more, looking up at him with her head in his lap that one time they went for a picnic in the park, grass and flowers stuck in her hair because he wanted to weave it in. She feels the air stilling in her throat as she takes in picture after picture, then forces her gaze away, gulping to seize control of her emotions before he walks in.
It was all a lie, Villain tells herself, starting from day one. He always had an agenda and held to it with impressive dedication, even as she fell in love. Villain would applaud him, had he not hurt her so bad. It wasn't even about the information he had gathered from her or the fact that he played her, it was about her trust, about the fact that she had been stupid enough to be manipulated, to believe Hero cared. Why would he ever care about a villain? That question never crossed her mind when he stumbled through his words asking her out for a coffee to make up for that wrongful arrest. Now she knew it had all been a part of the long game: the 'honest mistake', the awkwardness, the charmed expression in his eyes after their first date and everything that followed. Hero's acting skills were immaculate.
The night his supervisor stopped mid-battle to mention something only Hero could know, Villain figured everything. It felt like a bucket of boiling water was poured over her head, leaving her skin burning and the lump in her throat threatening to burst into uncontrollable sobbing. She broke it off without allowing him the chance to speak, his mouth taped shut and hands tied behind his back because she didn't want to see him smirk and make no attempts to reach for her. She didn't want to see Hero let her go with the ease that comes with ending something you never intended to keep. She swore off relationships the same night.
"It's my favourite picture of you," Hero speaks up from behind her, causing Villain to jump in place and hiss when the movement rattles her shoulder, "the one from the park."
She clenches her teeth in response, rage - still fresh, still bitter - stirring up in the depth of her stomach, rising to her throat like bile. She's seen red every time he so much as opened his mouth but refused to show him her anger. Anger meant hurt, it meant she had cared, it meant she still cared, and that was more of her than Hero'd ever deserved.
"Daisies remind me of you," he adds under his breath before placing the cup in his hand on the coffee table. "Do you still like ginger tea?"
"With lemon, two spoons of sugar," she snaps back like he was inconveniencing her with his care and the familiarity he seemed to flaunt in her face.
"I know," Hero murmurs, rubbing his forehead before taking a tentative step closer. It felt like he was pouring oil into a raging fire and expecting to put it out.
Something about the quiet words makes Villain whip around, eyes piercing through him like she wishes it would burn him to ashes yet the stubborn bastard remains standing tall. "Don't throw that in my face," she grits back, stepping forward to yank her picture off the wall.
"I wasn't-" Hero pauses, letting out a resigned sigh. "Forget it. You need to refrain from moving your shoulder."
"I can handle myself," she retorts, throwing one frame onto the floor and watching the glass shatter before moving to the other.
"Can you?!" Hero finally snaps, watching her struggle to reach the last picture. "From where I'm standing you keep making it worse." He crosses the room in two large steps and grips her wrist, her fingers barely graze the last picture frame. "Stop this."
"Fuck off," Villain growls, attempting to free her wrist. "What right do you have to keep those?" The words make it out of her mouth before she can bite her tongue, causing her to growl at herself for the way this is affecting her.
"Villain-" Hero mutters, dragging her by the wrist to shift her closer to him and away from the surviving picture. Her, staring up at him with those bright eyes and daisies scattered in her hair like the personification of spring has graced him with her presence. He'd rather she broke him than that picture. "Don't touch that."
"Don't touch me!" She yells, and Hero is grateful for the emotion because it's something he can work with, something other than the total silent rejection he's received for two whole years. "You have no right-"
He doesn't let her finish the sentence, sealing her mouth shut with his before he can overthink it. For a moment, she stills in his arms, but Hero knows better than to expect it to last and judging by the way she goes rigid, he knows he might have as well signed his death certificate. Her surviving arm flies up and her fist slams against his chest over and over; he doesn't let go, instead tightening his hold on her waist and the back of her head, even as she jerks away and attempts to break free. Villain bites his lower lip then, drawing blood, though he doesn't budge even then, but pulls her closer - albeit careful not to hurt her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs against her lips, his forehead coming to rest against her colder one, the tip of his nose grazing hers, "So sorry."
"I'll murder you," Villain mutters in response, though the malice in her voice is much less prominent than she'd have appreciated, judging from the blazing fire behind her eyes.
"I know," Hero whispers, lifting a hand to brush a stray hair out of her face before running his thumb along the curve of her cheekbone, teetering the edge despite knowing she could damn well mean it.
"I hate your guts," she adds, not quite sure who she is trying to convince - him or herself, seeing as she made no real attempts to set herself free or put any distance between them.
Hero chuckles, nodding his head in agreement, not about to argue with the storm brewing in the middle of his living room. "I know. I deserve it."
"Then you should know I mean my threats," Villain persists, her eyes shifting back to the remaining picture on the wall, then back to Hero's hand gently supporting her shoulder. "Should have let that asshole shoot you," she grumbles under her nose.
"I know," he repeats, tilting his head to press kisses over her cheek up to her temple, whispering into her skin like his words were spells to heal the wounds he has inflicted, "and I'm sorry."
"What for? Betraying me?" Villain asks, her voice hoarse when she adds, finally letting out two years' worth of frustration. "Lying to my face? Keeping my picture like you have any right to? Or being such a shitty strategist that I got shot on the single mission we shared?"
He shakes his head, amusement mixing with guilt at her words; his hold on her tightens imperceptibly. "For not trying hard enough, for not pursuing you after you left, for not spending every damn night on your porch begging for a second chance."
"As if you would do," Villain scoffs, but Hero doesn't let her continue, placing a finger over her lips to silence.
"I'd get on my knees a thousand times over if that meant you'd believe our relationship was never about the intel. I had all the neccessary data long before I asked you out."
"You what?" She asks, her voice low, dangerously so.
"I needed a chance," Hero tries to explain, words tumbling out of his mouth in a messy stream of syllables, "a pass from the agency, a permission, if you will; and I took it the moment it was granted to me."
For several moments, Villain stares at him, wordless and buffled by the revelation, but when the understanding dawns, she launches at him all over again, her hand landing a slap against his chest like that could actually hurt the rock of a man in front of her.
"You asshole!" Another slap. Hero catches her wrist again, so she steps on his foot out of sheer spite.
"Hey, hey" he tries to contain the tidal wave that was her, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement at her antics, "now, wait a second-" he tries to no avail.
"You couldn't tell me sooner?!" Villain all but yells, exasperation mixing into the concoction of emotions she was already feeling, only serving to make her more emotional.
"You didn't want to listen," Hero protests weakly, missing the moment when she frees her hands and grabs his collar as if to shake sense into him, "I didn't know how to get you to listen to me when you're as forgiving as an enraged harpy."
"For two fucking years?" Villain snaps, adorable in her untethered agitation, at least in Hero's eyes. "And stop smirking, you little piece of-" He doesn't let her finish, pulling her flush against him and shutting her up the only way he knew to be effective.
Villain doesn't protest this time, allowing Hero's hands to hold her neck as he kisses her, but even then she cannot keep herself from punching his shoulder one last time - to let out all remaining vexation before finally kissing him back.
Part 1
Hi love!
Thank you for the amazing request! Since there were two very similar ones in theme, I decided to combine them into this two-chapter story. Thank you for staying here even when I wasn't as present.
I hope you enjoy this little story as much as I did when creating it. I don't usually write outright romance (I think) but this one ended up rather sweet. Let me know what you guys think!
Hey! I noticed you hadn’t posted in a while!! How are you?
Hi, love!
That's true, thank you so much for checking in! ♡
I'm alright, much better now that I'm back. Life got a bit too overwhelming for a moment there and I ended up in a block - both time-wise and inspiration-wise. Doing a PhD will do that to you, I guess.
How have you been? I've missed you so much...
Tumblr has a special vibe nothing can replicate.
I've seen all of the wonderful requests everyone has been sending me and I'll try to work through them gradually. There are so many amazing ideas, I can't even begin to tell you! I love your minds xD)
