Prompt #43

Prompt #83

(Might make a part two if there are enough requests!! Enjoy :)

By @writingpromptsworld

"You've changed." The hero said, carefully. It had been years since they last saw the villain. They had disappeared after their last fight without a trace. The hero, despite themself, had tried to track them down, find out about their whereabouts. But, in the end, they had come up with nothing. It was like the villain never existed.

The villain chuckled. "Yes, I have better ways to annoy you now." The hero's brows knitted together.

"You're no longer causing trouble." The hero continues, ignoring the villain's comment.

The villain glanced away, their expression turning serious.

"Why?" The hero asks, taking a tentative step forward.

"I got bored. Besides, it's not fun anymore. We fight, one of us wins, we fight again. The whole routine." They gesture in the air dismissively.

The hero didn't quite believe them. "You got bored of fighting?" They asked, a little in disbelief. The villain loved to fight, they loved the thrill. Both of them did. So, it didn't make sense when they said it wasn't fun anymore.

"Yes, hero." The villain responded, staring into their eyes.

"I don't believe you."

"It's the truth."

"Then look me in the eyes when you say it."

The villain clenched their jaw, tensing up. The hero knew them so well. But they couldn't just tell them that it was because of the hero, that the hero had somewhere along the way convinced the villain that there was more to life than fighting and empty battles. That they could let go of the hatred and not resist life anymore.

The hero took a step closer, filling the gap between them. "Villain." They whispered.

The villain gulped, their eyes flickering with uncertainty. "What?"

"You can say it." The hero coaxed, their voice quiet, expression gentle.

The villain didn't want to. They wanted to resist, hold on to the last bit of what they were before the hero entered their life. However, it was all in vain. "Fine. It's because of you."

The hero smiled faintly, their fingers intertwining with the villain's. "I'm glad you're back."

Prompt #25

"Oh, so you're the infamous hero everyone is drooling over lately?" The villain wondered as they let their eyes roam over the hero's figure.

"Yeah. Why, you jealous?" The hero asked them, confident. A proud glint pondering in their dusty brown eyes. Their feet moved steadily but surely on their own to the other one.

"Jealous? Of you? Oh, spare me." The villain scoffed. Their face told otherwise, the hero thought.

The villain stayed planted where they were, while the hero nothing but neared them. Cornered them. They gulped.

"You know, you're not so bad yourself. I'd take you." The hero's voice dropped to a low soothing sound, that the villain's knees almost gave out. Almost.

The villain raised a brow, trying to appear unbothered. "In...a fight, right?" They said, unsure. They were just buying time so they could run, they told himself. It was definitely not because they were curious.

"No. Think deeper." The hero replied, short and curt. A devious smile made its way onto their lips. They let the villain figure out what exactly they meant.

The villain realized soon, the implication of what the hero meant and their eyes widened.

The hero attacked them next. Right there and then.

Prompt #34

The hero back-hugged the villain, and sighed. “How are you always so warm?” They said, and nuzzled their face in the villain’s neck.

“Because your love radiates like the sun on me.” The villain replied, grinning from ear to ear. The hero blushed and kissed them.

:)

Prompt #60

(Drunk hero👀)

“So…then, I told the superhero that I can’t not go. Because…” The hero slurred, trailing off as their eyes felt drowsy. Their hand was slowly falling down from the villain’s couch they were splayed out on, their legs dangling on the edge.

The villain hummed, nodding their head as if they were listening intently as they filled up an injection with a yellow looking drug. The hero groaned. “Because what?” They prompted, as they knelt down beside the hero, the cotton swab in their right hand, softly rubbing the skin on the hero’s arm. The hero’s eyes lazily drifted to the villain’s, the gentle smile the villain offered in the moment was cruel considering what they were doing. But, the hero smiled back, they could barely make out the villain’s face, let alone the syringe in their hands.

“Because…you were going to be there.” The hero finished, their eyes closed. A knowing tone and the widening smile gave away what they were feeling. The villain’s movement on the hero’s arm halted. Their eyes turned to the hero’s face, but the hero was already in deep slumber.

The villain contemplated on what to do. They couldn’t move after what the hero said. How could they just say that?! Surely, it was only because the hero was drunk. They didn’t feel that way about the villain right? The villain’s heartbeat increased, and they took a deep breath to calm themself. They lowered the syringe and put it away on the table placed by their side.

They stood up, and grabbed a blanket to cover the hero. They couldn’t do this, not today. Little did they know, that when they are slept away in their room in the morning, the hero wakes up and sees the syringe. Full. A small cotton ball thrown to the side.

Confusion, but most of all, a kind of fury settles in at the thought that they could ever have trusted the villain. They grab their weapon and walk to the closed room, in which inside the villain is tucked away, unbeknownst to the hero's growing rage.

Snippet #6

(Part 1…?)

“We used to be best friends,” The hero murmured, gazing out the window of their room. The moon shining so bright, they tore their eyes from it. The light shining through the glass, illuminating the whole place up. They sighed. “Perhaps, something more intimate that I refused to put a name on. We both refused to.”

“Dad, were you guys more than friends?” The hero’s child, a fourteen-year-old, asked them. Their eyes animated with wonder, their lips curved up a little. The hero chuckled, as they patted the teenager’s head.

“You should go to sleep now, hmm? It’s getting late.” The hero murmured, moving from the place they were standing and striding to where the other was sitting on the bed.

“Buttttttt, I have to know.” The fourteen-year-old whined, shaking their head as their parent picked them from the bed by their arm, in one sweep. “Where are they now? Do you know?” They asked again.

“No, I don’t know where he is right now, and nor do I wish to.” The hero said, eyes filling with suppressed sadness, their voice cracking. They tried to stay calm as memories of their college days came crushing in all at once, fogging their whole mind. Suddenly, they felt dizzy as they let go of the confused teenager’s arm, and sat down on the bed.

It was now or never. Every time they had this conversation, it would end with the hero staying silent the end, not wanting to bring up any reminders of the villain. They could not tell the younger one, that their best friend was none other than the most wanted criminal in the entire city. It would be too much, for both of them. Every time the assignment of finding the villain was assigned to him, they would always decline it. They couldn’t afford to meet the villain let alone, catch them. It would break them, unwillingly.

Yet, they couldn’t bury it all down again. Not when the kid was getting nothing but smarter every day, wiser. Mature. It felt wrong to hide their history any longer than they had been. So, they took a deep breath and let it all out. They told the fourteen-year-old everything that he had been wanting to, everything they didn’t tell anyone else, not even their ex-partner. Perhaps, that’s why when their partner felt that they weren't the one the hero was looking for, they decided to set them both free.

The teenager listened intently, asking their parent questions here and there. Frowning at various times, and laughing at others. It was a roller coaster of emotions, if you asked them.

“So…you still love them then?” They questioned, eyes brows raised.

The hero glanced away, wiping away the tears that unknowingly left out of their eyes, “I wish I could say no, but yes. Yes, I do love-," Before the hero could finish his sentence, there was a big thud from the kitchen. The teenager glanced at their dad, their eyes filled with surprise.

They both quickly but quietly made their way to the kitchen, the hero in the front, while their child trailed behind.

When they peeked out behind the wall of the kitchen, the hero's heart stopped. The villain stood there, appearing smug.

hello! i love ur writing so so so much! i was wondering if i could request a snippet where the villain discovers the hero's self harm scars? if not, that's ok too🥰❤️ have a lovely day :))

“Oh, darling.” The villain’s voice was much too soft.

The hero felt a sharp flicker of panic - they could have dealt with the villain mocking them - but they weren’t entirely sure they could stomach that tone. Not when they were so bare, so vulnerable, so utterly exposed. 

The hero couldn’t even protest nor offer up any excuse or convincing lie; not with the gag in their mouth. This wasn’t supposed to go like this after all.  

It started when the villain had spied the marks on the hero’s arms - tearing the sleeve of their suit so that they could inject some nefarious substance or other. The bit had been so the hero didn’t, apparently, bite through their own tongue. 

The syringe had however been abandoned on the side the second the villain saw the hero’s skin. Despite the hero’s muffled protest, the villain had promptly cut open the other sleeve and, then, made short work of everything else.

The villain’s gaze roamed over them, taking it all in and the hero wanted to scream. The thought of anyone finding out had always been bad enough...but to have the villain of all people...and like this...

They jerked uselessly against the restraints, the flicker beginning to swell into full blown panic. 

The villain ghosted their fingers across the marks, with that same terrible gentleness. The hero flinched, even if it didn’t hurt - maybe because it didn’t. They didn’t know. The hero’s muscles tightened taut with stress, with the urge to bolt and the complete inability to.

If they could run the villain would never even have seen this far. 

The villain’s gaze moved up, catching the hero’s wide-eyed stare. 

“I know what scars I’ve left on you, hero.” The word, ‘hero’, didn’t carry the mockery it normally did. “I know what kind of scars people get doing what we do. This...” their grip tightened, and their nails dug in. “This is not that.”

The hero’s fingers curled into fists, breath hitching. They did their utmost to keep their expression composed. Their mind raced; trying to figure out what the villain would do. Well, what could they do? They didn’t know what the villain even intended with this, now. What would they possibly care what the hero did in their free time? Yet, clearly, they cared. Otherwise they wouldn’t have set the syringe down they would have continued business as normal. 

The villain reached up after a moment, taking the bit out and setting that aside too. 

The hero wrenched their gaze away, working out their jaw. They could have spoken now but they said nothing. Anger churned with the panic. The villain had no right to expect an explanation from them, if that was what they were waiting for? 

“Control, punishment or something else?”

The even question snapped the hero’s stare back, in surprise. The villain’s voice had gone even again, instead of that horrible ‘handle with care’ softness. 

“What?” it came out raspy. 

The villain tapped one of the scars. “Do you do it to feel in control of something, to punish yourself, or something else?” 

“What’s it to you? You’ve literally got me tied to a chair.”

“Your enemies hurting you is very different to doing it to yourself. You cannot control your enemies, but nor would you expect them to be kind.”

“I swear if you of all people are going to start a lecture about being kind to myself.” The hero’s eyes burned, hot and embarrassed. They really hoped they didn’t start crying. 

“If you answer my question I’ll stop pestering you about it.”

The hero looked down, considering their options, really not wanting to talk about it with them. Still. “It makes my head shut up. Happy?”

“Happy is an interesting word choice given the topic of conversation, but I accept your answer, yes.”

“So you’re going back to whatever is in your nightmare syringe?”

“It’s a serum to limit your powers.”

“Oh.” 

“I did tell you.”

“Your monologues are very wordy and scientific. I get bored.”

The villain snorted. Still, they stayed crouching in front of the hero, studying them quietly. 

“...you’re not going back to stabbing me with the nightmare syringe?”

“Do you want me to stab you with the nightmare syringe?”

“No. Obviously not.”

The villain did not look entirely convinced. 

The hero gritted their teeth. “This is bothering you,” they said. “Knowing this about me. I’m not - I’m not suicidal, or anything. You can still get around to killing me yourself or - or whatever.” They faltered as the villain continued to stare at them. “What?”

“You make it a little too easy to forget you’re human, sometimes, hero.” The villain rose up to their feet. “Stay put.”

“Stay - you have me tied to a chair. Where are you going?!”

"I need to think,” the villain said. “And possibly punch something. And then, if you’re willing, I have some ideas on what might help.”

“You - what - hey!” 

The hero sat there, bewildered, at the sound of the next room being thoroughly destroyed. 

Nothing was quite the same after that.

Asking for a lil enemies with benefits and lots of pining

This turned out better than I expected :)

Request #1

The hero put on his shirt, and then his pants. When he was done, he glanced up to see the villain leaning against the room's door frame. Already dressed. "Make sure no one knows about this. I can't afford to lose my job and my reputation." The hero said. The villain raised his eyebrows. His eyes were dull.

"Of course. You can't have anyone knowing you sleep with a cheap villain. Wouldn't look good on you." The villain murmured, his voice small. A bitter edge to it. His heart ached. It was easy to ignore it at first, but lately, it's been getting to him. The yearning for the hero, the need to protect him, the urge to tell the hero that he wanted more than whatever they had going on.

But, who was he to say those things? A mere toy for the hero to come to when he was desired. Nothing more. Nothing less. And, maybe that's the reason he wanted the hero to be his and no one else's. He couldn't turn a blind eye to the way the hero's touch lingered on an area of his body for too long. The way the hero would kiss him tenderly, after. It made him question things. Made him fall in love with the hero beyond what felt exceptional. Obsessively so, one might say.

The hero shrugged, "It's not about you or me. It's about the people. I can't go and tell the world, that I'm fucking the enemy. It would put both of us in a tight spot." He came forward, tugged the villain close to him, and kissed him. A kiss too close to something that held meaning. The villain knew otherwise. The hero pulled back and smiled a little. His face held something like sadness, but the villain could be wrong. "They don't want us to be together. Because they know we'd be too powerful." And, the villain felt a little relief. Perhaps, because of the way the hero said it so easily. Or perhaps, that was how the hero confessed.

Prompt #5

The villain’s heart crushed at the sight in front of him. The hero, no, his hero was holding someone else in his arms. Kissing them. Smiling and laughing with them. 

He stared, unable to make himself move even a little. The hero didn’t notice them standing there. It was a late night, with nothing but a few street lights on. The roads empty, his head full. 

The hero was inside a restaurant, while the villain stood behind a building, ready to attack them. But, this. This. This was not what he expected. His blood boiled, daring him to go snatch the hero from the person. Tell the hero that he belongs to him, and no one else. 

Before he could think what he was doing, his body moved on its own. Stumbling through the empty road, he didn’t see a truck coming towards him. And, his body went flying through the cold air and back down. Blood spit out of his head, and all around him, but all he could see as he tilted his head to the right side was the hero’s smiling face. Unaware of his presence, unaware of his existence. He called out, but the hero didn’t hear. 

He screamed. 

In the end, he was alone. Like always. 

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Prompt #22

“If only you kept your pretty little mouth shut, you wouldn’t be here.” The villain said, as they brought a cup of coffee with them from their very classy kitchen. The hero was in awe of the the villain’s house, not paying attention to what the other was even saying.

“Well, only if you knew how to shut my pretty little mouth, we would be doing something else.” The hero said, staring straight at the villain with wide eyes. They slapped their hands over their lips. They did not mean to say it out loud. Damn it. The villain froze. A slow smirk made it’s way on their face, their eyes glistening with mischief. “I-…” The hero started.

The villain came forward, and put down the cup. They sat down on the opposite couch of the living room, and chuckled. “And here I thought, you were innocent as a bunny.”

“I’m sly as a wolf.” Oh. My. God, the hero thought. He needs to stop speaking. Stop thinking. Stop breathing. Stop.

“You mean sly as a fox?” The villain asked, teasing. But, if you peeked a little closer on their face, it held a rather fond expression.

“No, I don’t like foxes.” They murmured, before they could stop himself. The villain let out a laugh. An adorable laugh. The hero found themself, smiling. And, then laughing with the villain. Delighted in the moment.

“You’re so cute, you know that, little wolfie?” The villain said, as they took a deep breath to calm themself. The hero grinned.

Idiots in love. That’s what one would call them, the hero thought.

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Prompt #36

"You know, your dad used to call me da-"

"Dumb. I used to call him dumb because he always got himself in trouble." The hero cut off the villain, glaring at him. "He's 17, for Christ's sake."

The seventeen-year-old in question just narrowed his eyes at them, secretly knowing what the villain was going to say before his dad interrupted.

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