PREVIEW

... private guard smoking. Sumire found the scent of one of the cigarettes familiar, and asked for a pack. So, in her free time she found herself lighting up the cigarette and watching the falling ashes.


'I wonder, if this is enough to make the scent stick to me.'


Lucifer approaches her from behind and buried his face in her neck. He frowns seeing the cigarette in her hands. "Did we not have this conversation before, that's not good for you."


A conversation ...

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Copywriting 1:
Late at night in the harsh winter, Gu Nanzhi met a child who ‘run away from home’ in the bar street.
The child stepped on the snow alone under the street lamp, looking pitiful.
Gu Nanzhi was moved with compassion, and asked someone to drink a glass of milk.
I thought that we would meet by chance, and it would be over after a while, but I didn’t want this kid to become her class representative in a year and a half.
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Copywriting 2:
Lin Zheng, who was 18.9, has excellent grades and many talents. He is the most famous person in the school.
It’s a pity that at the welcome party of her first year in school, she publicly confessed that she broke everyone’s thoughts.
It’s just that no one knows who the object of this mysterious confession is.
Later, at the graduation party, everyone urged Lin Zheng to bring someone out to meet him, so as to calm down the depression that the fat water was flowing to outsiders.
Lin Zheng was pushed to the cusp of the wind and waves and had no choice but to call someone to come over.
“I’m sorry, she admits she’s born, I’ll go out and pick it up.” Lin Zheng left everyone behind and got up to pick it up.
When she came back ten minutes later, Lin Zheng’s hair was loose, her lipstick was gone, and there was still a bright red hickey on the side of her neck.
Whistles sounded one after another in the box, “Which little wolf dog is this? Wild enough!”
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After the words fell, a lazy female voice came out from the Bluetooth headset, “Little friend, are your ears itchy again?”
Lin Zheng leaned back, with the wine glass sticking to his lips, “Your ears are not itchy, but your heart is itchy. Teacher Gu, do you want to feel it?”

√ Teacher and student, 1v1, HE
√ Soft and Cute vs Gentle and Royal Sister

Content tags: soft spot sweet article campus
Search keywords: Protagonist: Lin Zheng, Gu Nanzhi ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:
One-sentence introduction: Huh? Isn’t it sweet and obedient?
Conception: Daydreams can also come true

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The first time they met, the little boy had pulled her hair, hoping to get her attention.

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“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.