ghqstwriter

[ghqstwriter]

Ghost i miss u come back

Sorry to say that writing posts will not be regular until August</3! Tis the artfight season and as an underprepared overachiever, I will probably be spending pretty much all of my creative efforts on attacks and revenges until the event is over.

(pssst you should go look at my artfight account for (vaguely) hero x villain oc content, i’m trying to guarantee revenges this year. id card and link below the cut)

[ghqstwriter]

‘What is this? What’s going on? Who are you working for and where are you taking me?’ Is what Hero wanted to say, to yell in the most threatening voice conceivable in the hopes that their captors would be kind enough to keep them updated. Alas, they were gagged rather firmly, so their intimidation only came out in muffled annoyance. Today really didn’t belong to them, huh.

First, they sleep in on a work day, which not only caused them to miss the entire mission brief, but also meant that their partner had left for their own job already, and they didn’t get to see them off. Second of all, the mission went horrifically South, causing them to have to retreat an extremely suspiscious and crime riddled part of the city. And now, there was this. Kidnapped by someone that Hero couldn’t even identify.

It wasn’t that it was particularly dark, Hero could make out their assailants just fine. The problem was that they were wearing perhaps the most non-descript masks possible, leaving no clues as to who their employer is (something that Hero later realised was probably by design).

The only notable thing Hero could discern was, unfortunately, the sheer competence of the criminals. Instead of the usual large squad of assassins they were used to, this time, they could count the number of attackers on one hand. In fact, it had only taken one before Hero was down within seconds. The rest seemed to be here for transportation purposes.

Either something was wrong with Hero, or they were being apprehended by someone completely out of their league. Their captors had offhandedly mentioned taking the superhero to their boss, implying that these were merely henchman. Henchman who had almost instantly defeated the Hero. Their heart quickened at the realisation.

Their poor heart, they thought. It had already been pounding long before they were caught by whoever these bandits were. A simple mission involving a usually tame villain had turned into a fast paced chase, leaving Hero breathless and unaware of the criminals lurking around the corner. Shockingly, these henchmen didn’t appear to be working for that same villain, for they were quite cautious about avoiding their notice.

At least the captors didn’t seem to be liars. The main one had (not so comfortingly) reassured them that it wouldn’t be long until they got to their destination, and that much was true; it wasn’t long at all until they were hauled up onto their feet and led out of the vehicle. Hero took in the sight of the criminal’s base before them, trying to observe just where they were for future reference. It was then they realised why they hadn’t been blindfolded — even with their eyes fully uncovered, they still had no clue where the hell they were.

The inside was just as unremarkable, too. It was small, though certainly not unpopulated, as many masked people walked by, crossing corridors and paying no mind to the apprehended superhero. Were they told to play it cool, or was this nothing especially notable to them? Hero wasn’t sure which answer they prefered.

Then, the criminals stopped before a large door, locked behind a keycard. Most of them gave a quick, absent-minded salute, before heading off in perfect sync to presumably their usual duties. This left Hero to stand awkwardly now that only the main henchman was left, reaching for some form of identification to open the door.

Their boss was likely on the other side, probably waiting to tear Hero limb from limb. The superhero considered trying to plead over the gag, but they’d learnt this particular criminal was rather fond of silence.

The machine by the doors let out a meagre beep, and then swung the entrance open to reveal a highly cluttered office, full to the near brim with what appeared to be case files, video tapes, and an assortment of strange but clearly significant trinkets. Usually, Hero was keen on observing their surroundings to an analytical fault, but this time, they barely had time to glance around, focus instead transfixed on the seated figure before them.

Villain was the one who had kidnapped them?

The criminal glanced up, face not shifting in the slightest at the sight of Hero before them. Then, as nonchalantly as the first movement, they looked towards their employee, a subtle look of questioning on their face. Clearly, they didn’t even need to speak in order for their point to get across.

“The target refused to cooperate without protest, minimum apprehension protocol was followed,” the lackey spoke in a rather rehearsed manner, which gave Hero the grim idea that Villain seemed to be kidnapping people quite a lot.

“Very well, you may be dismissed, Henchman. I’ll call for you if I need our guest removed from the premises,” Villian ordered casually, as though they were asking an intern for coffee. Henchman bowed politely, and turned to leave without sparing Hero a second glance. Interestingly, the moment the door slammed shut again, Villain’s posture relaxed, and they beckoned Hero over to their desk, gaze already softening.

Hero obliged, strolling up to the desk as the fear of persecution was replaced by sheer confusion. Of all people they expected to be their captor, Villain was not one of them. As soon as they reached the desk, the criminal leant upwards, and swiftly removed the gag, tossing it to one side. The superhero cleared their throat, adjusting, before speaking up.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re back to hating my guts again. Your henchmen were quite firm with me, to say the least,” Hero commented, their playful demeanour returning as they leant their elbows on the mahogany desk. Looking around, they noticed that the entire room seemed to fit Villain’s exact colour scheme.

“Forgive them, they weren’t aware that this impromptu kidnapping was of your best interest. I wasn’t certain if telling the henchmen just why I wanted you here was a great idea.”

“Why did you bring me here, then?”

Villain opened their mouth to speak, prompty stopped themself, and let out a breathless laugh. They internally rephrased whatever it was they planned on saying, eyes not leaving Hero for a moment.

“My superiors refuse to let me interfere with Other Villain’s goals. If I sent my henchmen to deter them, I’m sure they’d arrive at our doorstep, furious. But, if the hero they were persuing just so happened to mysteriously disappear, I’m sure they’d blame it on the agency instead of us.”

“Aww, you were worried,” Hero cooed, taking the criminal’s gloved hands. Even before the pair had become amicable (which then furthered itself into something deeper), Villain had never shown much desire to harm Hero. Any ill will that was present in their initial relationship had all been showmanship. A performance for both the press and their respective bosses.

“When am I not?” Villain cupped their partner’s cheek and rubbed gentle circles into their temple. Hero practically melted at the gesture, feeling their warmth even through the fabric that covered their tender hands. Careful to not push the criminal’s hands away, they maneuvered around the desk, resting the small of their back against the edge so that they were still facing the villain.

“You know, sometimes I forget you’re supposed to be the commanding and callous Villain. You’re too much of a sap, in my eyes,” Hero confessed. It was a simple mistake to make, Villain was perhaps the most gentle person the hero had ever had the pleasure of meeting. They worried incessantly over the safety of their partner, and were more than affectionate when surrounded by the tranquility of four secluded walls.

It was amusing to Hero, most days. Villain was a more than threatening criminal: they headed up a major faction of what most heroes considered to be an unstoppable villainous organisation. There were very few criminals that Hero fought that wouldn’t bow in both fear and respect to them. And here they were, staring up at the hero with an entirely lovestruck gaze. Smitten was an understatement.

“Rich words coming from the legendary superhero who is currently making no effort to escape a kidnapping situation. Sounds much more incriminating to me,” Villain chuckled lovingly. As they spoke, their hands moved down to Hero’s waist, tugging at them softly so that they’d come closer to the point of practically hovering over Villain’s lap in a feather-light embrace.

The hero hummed wordlessly, content with being this close to their partner, adrenaline wearing off from both the encounter with Other Villain and their rather efficient abduction. They were admittedly exhausted and (perhaps stupidly) felt more than comfortable in showing that fact to the criminal before them, wrapping their arms around the unmasked villain and settling into their lap.

The chair wasn’t exactly comfortable to lie on, but that was something they could hardly focus their mind on once Villain started painting strokes of warmth down their back. Hero didn’t need to look at them to know they were smiling, to which Hero beamed back.

“I do apologise that my men were not so gentle. Perhaps I should have found a way to tell them without incriminating us.”

“It’s ok, Vil. At least I got to see you at the end of a tough day.”

For the next few hours, until Villain had finally finished up any remaining work (the contents of which Hero was sadly not allowed to view but was reassured of their nonviolent nature), Hero stayed within their embrace, exhausted from a demanding and entirely unpredictable day. At least, through it all, they’d always have Villain to fall back on when they needed them.

Thank you all so much for 100 followers<33

[ghqstwriter]

Tysm for 100 followers!!<33 poll to decide a snippet I’ll write for the 100 special:)

[ghqstwriter]

A submissive villain and a manipulative hero with hurt/comfort (thats a bit spicy) and includes wall pinning and the quote “dont you trust me?” Please!!!

“Ow! Watch where you’re flinging me, you piece of shit!” Villain exclaimed as their head made contact with the hard wall behind them. They didn’t even have a moment to react before they felt their arms be shoved further into the wall, except this time Hero didn’t let go.

“Huh, that’s odd,” Hero started, voice as ingenuine as possible. “You can’t push me away. Weird, it’s almost like you’re too injured or something.”

Villain writhed, struggled, and tried to yank their arms away, but it was to no avail. Their chest was killing them and they’d already begun to feel woozy. For a split second, Villain realised that if they were to collapse right now, it would be straight into the arms of Hero, and to that they turned a slight shade of red (with anger and embarrassment, of course).

“I don’t need your lectures, and I don’t need your sympathy. Let me go, you bastard.” Villain bit at the hero, though it was far from a ferocious attack. Perhaps it would have come across a lot stronger if they weren’t so adamant on avoiding eye contact.

“You don’t want my sympathy. Or at least, you’re telling yourself that. But,” Hero spoke as their eyes trailed down to the villain’s chest. “You do need it, sweetheart.”

Villain scoffed in response, though the action caused their chest to wheeze even more. The pain was quite unnerving, Villain couldn’t deny, but they’d sooner let their lungs be pierced by broken ribs than allow the hero to attend to them. It wasn’t that they feared how Hero could hurt them, quite the opposite. Despite their cold and often unforgiving exterior, their touch could be deceivingly soft.

“I don’t need anything from you. Besides, you’re the one stopping me from going into battle. If you thought I wasn’t strong enough to fight Superhero like this, you’d be waving me goodbye.”

“You think I care about Superhero?”

“Why the fuck else would you be doing this?” Villain asked, though they knew they didn’t want to hear an answer. Hero surely wasn’t worried about Villain’s safety, they could assume that much. However, the crimestopper had always been prone to trickery in order to get what they wanted.

“You really don’t trust me, do you?” Hero’s words were stern but amusement hid behind their eyes. Of course they didn’t trust them. Why would they? It was Hero, of all people.

How and why Hero had ended up working for the agency was a mystery to heroes and villains alike. Though they behaved for the public, there was something almost sinister about them. Hero was cunning, cold, calculating, everything you’d expect a criminal mastermind to be. Even Villain was somewhat thankful they decided to side against the forces of evil, for otherwise they’d probably be out of a job.

Hero chuckled quietly at Villain’s silence, scowl still prominent on the latter’s face. “I think I’d rather have you in one piece rather than five. Let’s face it, how am I supposed to antagonise your severed arm?”

“Is that it then, you want to be the one to fight me? To kill me? A little icy of you, don’t you think?” Villain never considered themself Hero’s equal. Instead, the pair of them were exact opposites, in every manner of the word. Villain was loud and impulsive, all bark but not without bite. The fire to Hero’s ice, as the newspapers had put it.

The villain hadn’t entertained the idea that their rivalry mattered in the slightest to Hero before. The thought of it caused their heart to flutter slightly. Hero, seeing them as important enough to keep alive for whatever reason: it was a ridiculous thought. Their palms grew clammier.

“Icy? A long time ago, perhaps that would have been apt. But, maybe you’re just melting my heart.”

“Yeah, like you have one in the first place.”

At that retort, Hero gripped the villain’s hand, mindful of their broken fingers, and placed it on their own (much less injured) chest. Beneath the suit, beneath the scars, beneath the muscles, it was there. Beating faintly. Villain’s blush spread at the implications. They’d never been one to react subtly.

“Isn’t that proof enough?”

Hero raised their other hand, fingers ghosting over a graze on Villain’s cheek. Neither of their hands were holding Villain down, now, but the criminal knew they were still caged in by proximity. Their chests were inches apart, and they decided they particularly didn’t want to feel their injuries agrivate further by pushing against them.

“You’ve never been so strangely possessive before. Didn’t think martyrs like yourself were supposed to get attached to criminals.” Villain was being sarcastic. They were being entirely unserious, Hero wasn’t actually attached. They cared as much as you’d care about the idea of shattering an expensive vase. Sad in the short term, forgettable in the long run.

Hero’s eyes did not respond to the sarcasm.

“Hmm, probably not. Fire will melt ice long before the flames can be cooled. Wouldn’t be a great idea in the long run.” Both Hero’s tone and demeanour were unreadable. Their eyes were as grim as usual, but there was a semblance of emotion behind them, one that Villain couldn’t quite identify.

Then, they pulled Villain’s head to the side ever so slightly, and leaned in, lips hovering just beside their ears. Already, the criminal had been struggling to breathe, caused by the intense tightness in their chest. This, by all means, was not helping matters.

“I don’t know what it is you’re doing to me. But I know exactly what I’m doing to you, Villain. Like it or not, you’re infatuated. You can hate me all you want; everything else about you tells me a different story.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I’m saying that if you go off and get yourself killed, this will never happen again."

Villain was about to ask what the 'this' in question was, but they were much too slow. Hero's hand shifted to grab their jaw, turning their head upwards firmly. They gave one beat of silence, a final chance to protest, and met the villain's lips with their own. The kiss was light, lips barely touching each other. It was more of a warning than a declaration of love: this is what you could have, this is what you risk to lose by fighting Superhero.

Unsurprisingly, Hero's lips were cold.

Before Villain could get too eager, just as they were about to lean in further to deepen the kiss, Hero pulled away. For the first time since Hero had pinned them against the wall, their eyes darted away from Villain's figure, opting to focus on anything else instead. Now, Villain wasn't trapped; they could bolt for the door if they wanted to. Alas, shock had taken hold of them, grappling them with an iron fist.

"I'll tell Superhero I managed to drive you off. Otherwise, I'm sure they'll come looking for you."

"Right, of course." Villain was hunched over by now, struggling to catch their breath for more reasons than one. Their brain still hadn't caught up to this afternoon's events, too dazed from overwhelm to realise that Hero had kissed them. Even in their renegade fantasies, Hero, ever so cold and uncaring, had never initiated the kiss.

"As long you begin to trust me, things can start going a lot smoother." Hero reached for their communicator as they spoke, likely about to contact Superhero with some fabricated story. Villain had never managed to spot a tell from within Hero. Perhaps they were simply always lying. Something about this felt peculiar, though. Truth expressed in the only way they knew how: trickery.

"I didn't trust you today, and yet you still kissed me. Sounds like you're rewarding bad behaviour," Villain joked, confidence coming back to them now that they were no longer centimetres away from the unfairly sculpted face of their nemesis. In response, Hero turned their head to the side in a still rather nonchalant manner, but was still the closest to flustering that Villain had ever witnessed.

"That's besides the point."

A buzzing emerged from inside of Villain's pocket, their own communicator was (stupidly) unsilenced. The screen lit up as they checked, Henchman was checking in about some final details. How the hell were they going to explain this to their henchmen?

"I should go find the rest of my team. I'll uhh-" Villain started, though they trailed off as soon as they looked up, though the perplexed look on their face shifted quickly to amusement. Once an enigma, always an enigma. Within a few seconds, Hero had already vanished.

[ghqstwriter]

Music echoed around the walls of the gala, loud enough to be heard over the sea of people laughing and gossiping. Hero stood to the side, full glass of champange in hand. It wasn’t that they hated parties, they just weren’t particularly accustomed to them, having grown up much more interested in their studies than anything else.

They didn’t know exactly what this mission entailed, which meant there was hope left for them that the night would go swiftly, though they knew from experience that when Villain was involved, things were hardly simple. The criminal was, above all else, dramatic. The type of theatrical that meant there was usually ample mess behind the scenes for Hero to labour over.

About a week ago, Villain (as their civilian persona) had, out of the blue, announced a gala for today. It wouldn’t have been too pressing of an issue, for they held these events all the time, if not for how sudden it seemed to be. The hero agency suspected something was going on beneath the surface, perhaps a deal or trade of sorts, so elected to send a fully fledged hero instead of the regular informant.

“You’re the one who’s worked with Villain most,” their boss had explained, however they weren’t stupid. This was a (particularly unsubtle) attempt to pry them from their desk of which they had slumped over for nights on end, wading through an endless ocean of work. They’d tried protesting, but at the end of the day, they couldn’t exactly turn down a mission. So, here they were, sat on the sidelines waiting for a commotion to arise.

It didn’t take long after Hero’s arrival for Villain to spot them. In fact, as soon as their dark eyes fell upon the superhero from across the room, they beelined over with haste, having made up some — probably lousy — excuse to their patrons. Hero, who had been watching the criminal since they arrived, straightened up with anticipation.

“Hero! It’s wonderful that you could come today, I hope you’re finding this evening as extravagant as intended,” Villain grinned, their typical charismatic smirk hiding what appeared to be an element of nervousness behind it. Bingo, Hero thought. If they were anxious about the super’s appearance, then there was almost definitely something worth hiding.

The superhero looked around the room, once again noticing how lavish the event was. Even more so than usual, which Hero had noted as interesting. Were they trying to impress someone? That implied whatever deal was going on involved someone of a higher calibar than Villain, an idea that didn’t sound promising for an already tired Hero.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Villain. This is even fancier than the last, what, twelve this year?” Hero commented, smile clearly performative yet enough to stop bypassers for looking deeper into the conversation.

“Of course, a momentous occasion such as today deserves the grandest of celebrations, so I’m quite glad to see the desired effect was reached.” The way Villain spoke didn’t sound as rehearsed as usual, as though they were genuinely excited for whatever tonight meant for them.

The criminal’s eyes glimmered uncontrollably as they held eye contact with the hero. While they were far from being the taller of the two, their sheer presence made up for it, and even Hero felt small when standing next to them. As though the villain could tower over them, despite the pair’s notable size difference.

Their relationship with the villain had been weird at first, too abnormal for it to feel natural. Usually, whenever a supervillain’s identity was discovered by the agency, a hero would be dispatched almost instantly, and that would be the end of things. However, Villain’s galas were not just frequent but also extremely profitable. Charities (which, to Hero's initial surprise, were legitimate) made a lot of money from their events, and so the agency elected to keep them on a leash.

A leash that, typically, Hero was left holding.

It had been almost eight months now since the villain had gone from an occasional enemy to Hero's full-blown nemesis, and by now the pair had grown somewhat amicable; the consequence of knowing someone so intimately that you know exactly where to make them bleed.

Hero seldom got close with people — not even their co-workers knew them well enough to know when their birthday was (though it wasn't like Hero could remember by now anyways, too much of a workaholic to celebrate). So, they supposed that Villain, by process of elimination, could be considered the closest thing to a friend they had.

"A momentous occasion, hm? Sounds a lot like you're scheming, Villain. I hope it's nothing too heinous, else I might have to stop enjoying this evening," Hero commented back, tone playful but not lacking the familiar warning underneath. Villain faltered slightly, a barely noticeable twitch that Hero had grown confident in recognising. If they were so worried about Hero interfering with their plans, why let them inside in the first place? It wasn't like they were the star of the show.

"Do all of my schemes have to be so nefarious?"

"I think I've known you long enough by now to know what your usual 'night of fun' entails." Explosions, usually. Villain wasn't a violent criminal by any means, focusing more on the intel side of villainy, however their passion for pyrotechnics was deep-rooted to say the least. Villain's smile shifted into something more genuine at the accusation.

"Well, it's a good thing I already have a plan to convince you of my pure-hearted intentions tonight. Shall we?" Villain offered a hand to the hero, who stared back with a puzzled look. It was beginning to feel as though Hero being here was in fact part of the plan, rather than an unexpected hinderance. And so, Villain's motives obscured themselves further.

"Lead the way."

Hero wasn't quite sure what to expect from their nemesis. After all, their initial assessment of the situation seemed to be entirely skewed. What they did notice was that, in the five minutes that it took for Villain to lead them to their destination, their fingers refused to stop fidgeting. They were anxious, though that fact had stopped sounding sirens throughout Hero's nervous system.

Villain arrived at the intended destination shortly, Hero not too far behind. They wrung their hands together one last time, and opened the door, revealing something quite far away from anything Hero could have been anticipating.

The first thing Hero noted was the silence. The room was far enough away from the main hall that the chatter had become peaceful ambience. Though they'd learnt to deal with the annoyance that came with noise over the years, Hero still held the belief that solitude was the most wonderful noise.

Then, their eyes fell onto the window. One big glass pane that covered the entirety of the back wall, providing an exquisite view of the glistening ocean that the gala was located by. I grew up by the beach, they remembered mentioning to the villain. It was beautiful, I used to go swimming with my siblings every day until we moved. Better opportunities for education, according to my father. It's a shame few missions end up being at the waterfront.

The sun had set completely by now, meaning the beach was entirely empty. Only the stars in the sky and their reflections waltzing on top of the waves remained. A stunning view which left Hero transfixed for a moment. The same could not be said for Villain, whose attention was entirely on their archnemesis, soaking in every facet of their reaction.

After a few beats, when Hero could finally bring themself to pull their gaze away from the ocean view, they started noticing the rest of the room. The seating was plush, adorned with a seemingly excessive amount of throw pillows. Additionally, the entire place was candlelit (perfect for Hero, who was quite sensitive to light, and often complained about the harshness of LED lights), and full of luxury items, such as a grand TV fixed onto the wall.

This felt too intricate for a distraction, Hero realised. They were not the kind of person to demand niceties, Villain knew this well. If they needed them out of the way, they had no need to go to this extreme of an attempt. Everything seemed to be of an impeccable quality, as though Villain wanted to ensure that the hero received no less than perfection. Though Villain was hardly frugal with their spending, everything they did was purposeful. Intentional.

Finally, Hero's eyes landed on the food. A variety of dishes, all of which fit the superhero's tastes. It didn't look as professional as everything else in the room, showing evidence of human error, though that caused Hero's heart to stutter slightly. The meals looked delicious, but they did not look like they had been crafted at the hands of a five star chef.

Why go to all this length to get the best of the best but forget to hire a professional? A thought scampered into Hero's mind, sudden but not brief enough to stop it from settling. Had Villain cooked this personally? Hero had never had their cooking before, so there was no frame of reference, yet the hope (was that it, hope?) had already nested in their chest. They heard footsteps from behind, approaching them, yet were still to focused on absorbing every detail of the room.

Eventually, their attention diverted to the table in front of them, honed in on the small centrepiece that seemed to be the key connector to everything tonight. The puzzle piece that explained the sudden hosting of the gala, the strange jittery state of the villain, the outstandingly lavish room. Placed on a remarkably expensive looking plate was a cake, rich with icing and most importantly: adorned with candles.

"Happy Birthday, Hero."

[ghqstwriter]

“I missed you. I missed this.” Villain murmured, face buried in Hero’s shoulder as they pressed them against the plush bedding. Not even a second after Hero had entered the bedroom, exhausted, Villain had pounced, tackling them with such haste that the both of them were shocked they hadn’t ended up a tangled heap on the ground.

“Vil, we’ve seen each other every day this week, what are you talking about?” Hero asked, though they were by no means objecting to this sudden attention. Villain had always been an affectionate lover, however Hero had thought by now that they’d be able to predict when these bursts of endearment would happen.

The pair had been on a mission the last week. It had been nothing too strenuous, and both had completed it without suffering more than a bruise or a scrape. Villain had been called on for convienience rather than necessity: why spend hours researching criminals when your teammate happened to be dating one?

“Couldn’t exactly do this in front of your teammates, could I?” Villain pressed a tender kiss to the hero’s neck like they were stamping a love letter with stained lipstick. Hero failed to miss how their eyes shifted slightly at the mention of their teammates.

At first, before the mission, Hero was terrified of how their teammates would get along with Villain. At the end of the day, they were a criminal. Most heroes wouldn’t be able to get past that if their life depended on it, and Hero was worried everyone would be at each other’s necks for days on end. Things didn’t exactly go that way though, that was evident from the moment Villain had arrived.

Turned out, the team were more than thrilled about the idea of a reformed villain. And Hero meant it when they said thrilled. Any time they spoke with Villain, their voices were soft and patronising. Despite the not-so-subtle hints Hero had tried to give them, they couldn’t go a single conversation without pouring tales of endless sympathy. Poor sweet little Villain, trapped beneath the claws of the vain and evil Supervillain. Forced to pretend to be the beast, hiding behind layers and layers of emotional walls.

For the sake of keeping the peace, Villain refrained from biting back. Distant and cold, but not outright confrontational. Of course, the team had instantly taken that as a sign of whatever repressed trauma they’d fabricated about the villain in their minds, because clearly they’re just too scared to open up to everyone else. The truth was much more different.

“They don’t know you. They didn’t even try to get to know you. If your henchmen acted like that towards me, would you want me to take it to heart?” Hero stroked Villain’s hair as they nuzzled further into the crevice of their neck.

The criminal only groaned in response, face buried too deep into Hero’s skin to sound anything but muffled. They were likely embarrassed about how deeply this was getting to them, Hero considered. Of all the complexities that made up Villain, Hero had discovered that insecurity was quite a sizeable one.

“Isn’t it a problem for you, though?” Villain asked, vulnerability only showing itself now that they were certain they wouldn’t be patronised for it. “That I’m not so soft and fragile underneath?”

Hero had known since the day that Villain came to them for help that the relationship the criminal had with Supervillain was multi-faceted. While it was true that Villain had been forcibly chucked much deeper into villainy than they’d ever wished to go, they weren’t exactly the perfectly innocent victim the team had wished they were. Their position in everything was complicated, not even Hero knew all the details, but the both of them knew the stains of guilt on their hands were as unremovable as any other villain’s.

“If that were the case, then I’d be loving you for your potential to be good, not who you are deep down. I love you, emphasis on the you part.”

“The other heroes.. it wasn’t that they hated who I was. They were praying for me to be someone who I’ve never been. Someone worth saving, they’re heroes after all.” Villain held their partner tighter, relishing every moment they could spend with them. Finally, after a whole week of discomfort and facades for both of them, they could open themself up to affection again.

“I’m not here to save you, Villain. I don’t think you need ‘saving’. We’re equals in this, we help each other when we need it. You know that, right?”

Villain shuffled, propping themself up so they were practically in Hero’s lap. Though the conversation had taken a more sensitive turn, they still continued to pepper Hero’s skin with kisses, each one more eager than the last. This was their form of vulnerability, Hero had realised soon into the relationship. To them, intimacy was the utmost form of trust. No wonder they had been so standoffish in front of the team.

“I know. Just making sure.” At that, Villain lifted their head up, dark eyes staring into Hero’s soft ones. After a moment of clear admiration, their lips crashed into their partner’s, hungry and keen to make up for lost time.

“I didn’t come here because I thought you were the strongest. I came here because I trust you the most. There’s no-one I could go to that’d understand me more, Hero.” That’s what the villain had said when they’d showed up at their nemesis’ door, a freshly traitorous renegade on the run from Supervillain’s wrath. They’d ended up kissing them barely even a week after that.

Panting and entirely engrossed in the way Villain’s lips felt against theirs, yet still harboring some concern for how Villain felt deep down, Hero pulled away for a moment. Upon further observation, the ocean in their eyes had calmed, waves no longer thrashing against the cliffside. The normalcy of their chest against Hero’s had soothed them, it seemed.

“Besides, I’d be a pretty shitty hero if I only offered help for the poor sweet innocents, trapped beneath the claws of a terrible beast,” Hero mocked dramatically, remembering the horribly wild things their coworkers had come up with. At that, Villain chortled slightly.

“Why don’t we stop talking about those theatrical idiots so you can get back to kissing me?” Villain leant back in, arms locking around Hero’s neck. They grinned in response, before indulging their romantic of a partner’s desires.

[ghqstwriter]

Hiiii! I just read your “hero drives the villain home because they felt guilty for injuring them” snippet and IM OBSESSED!! :D Idk if you have a second part planned but I would love to see some much needed comfort for the villain. 🥹 maybe some angst too? As in they run into who did all that to the villain~? Idk I’m just throwing out some ideas, and either way I know I’ll love whatever you end up doing with it 💗💗

Part 1 isn’t necessary to understand this but provides context

Villain stared absentmindedly at the sky, watching the sun set slowly and tauntingly. The seventh day was ending, and Hero was supposedly leaving, having been proven wrong about their wild estimations. That wasn’t exactly what happened, despite Villain’s best efforts.

In fact, they hadn’t even managed to formulate a plan by the time the first hurdle came along. The pair had arrived at Villain’s place relatively soon after their conversation, and the criminal had only just remembered the sheer state of their home by the time the lock clicked and the door swung wide open. Medicine bottles sprawled across the counter, dishes entirely unwashed, blankets messily thrown across the living room proof that Villain had been too weak to take themself to bed.

Hero was horrified.

The crimefighter had transformed into a complete mother hen for the first 48 hours, refusing to leave Villain’s side for more than a bathroom break. Hero’s utter commitment to staying by Villain’s side would have left the criminal more than flattered if not for the shame dwelling in their stomach. They didn’t want to be spoilt and pampered like a helpless weakling. They were Villain, not some frail child.

One morning soon after that, Villain had awoken with a plan fully prepared in their mind. They’d formulated a ‘pristine’ cover story; one lacking enough detail so that they were free from being caught out but not one too obviously fake. Their alibi, along with how cheery Villain appeared to be, left Hero thoroughly persuaded, and they seemed more than comforted by their nemesis’ state. Now, finally, they were convinced that everything was ok, and they’d leave Villain alone. The plan was perfect. Impeccable. A spectacular masterpiece.

Hero caught them throwing up vigorously that same evening.

Even Villain, who was desperate in their search for an excuse, knew they couldn’t pass this off as a common illness. It had lasted too long, and Hero had picked up on their ailment almost as soon as it began. But, they needed to think of something quickly, as the hero was minutes from rushing them to a hospital they were adamant was necessary for the villain. But, Villain knew the doctors would find out exactly what was wrong with them. They didn’t want that can of worms open.

In an act of pathetic distress, they’d begged. Villain never begged, they’d rather slowly chew off their own limbs than be at the mercy of someone else’s, well, mercy. Perhaps that’s why Hero hadn’t taken them to the hospital that day, a signifier of just how bad the prospect of going there was. But, they didn’t get off lightly, and Hero firmly told the criminal that if things didn’t improve within a few days, not even grovelling would be enough to keep them from a medic.

Villain only broke away from their recollection of events when they heard the seat in front of them scrape against the floor. As they looked up, eyes heavy and probably still puffy, they saw Hero, also in their sleepwear, sat across from them anxiously. They knew it was the final day too, evident from how thick the air seemed to be. While Villain still managed to maintain the illusion of feeling perfectly healthy, after that incident, Hero had started to see right through them. Both of them knew how badly the criminal was doing, how poorly their health had regressed. But both of them knew they wouldn’t just straight up admit what happened.

“Villain,” Hero began, voice almost hesitant. “My leave ended yesterday, I was only able to take the one week off. I have to go into work today, I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine. It’s been a week, right? We’re all done here?”

“Villain, you know I can’t leave you. Not when you’re like this. You’ll have some space when I’m on missions, now, but until you’re well again, I can’t be gone for good.”

The villain didn’t respond, so Hero began to talk about their mission, flicking through a thick folder to read some information that they’d hoped would at least distract Villain from whatever they were feeling. The hero pulled open the page they were clearly looking for, and Villain’s heart plummeted.

“Seven days is quite a long time to be off of a mission, so all the research has practically been done, it’s just up to me and the others to actually take down the guy. Long story short, couple sketchy guys turned up dead a little while back, the coroners said it was some highly poisonous serum that killed them. Sidekick managed to trace it back to Rival, so now all that’s left is— uh, Villain?” Hero trailed off at the end, likely noticing how pale the villain was. Were they pale? They felt it, trembling as though all the blood had left their body.

It took until Hero grasped at their arms firmly for the villain to even realise that the crimefighter had rushed over to them, fear evident in their expression. They felt sick. Horrifically nauseous to the degree that they were shocked they hadn't already keeled over. Yet, even in this state, a sliver of shame resting in the villain's limited coherence began to chew away at them This was pathetic, they were acting pathetic.

"Villain? Villain? Can you hear me? Just look at me a second, please," Hero plead, biting their lip. For a moment, their eyes glanced at the folder lain across the table, containing the files Villain wasn't even aware they were still fixated on, gaze unwavering. It was then that they realised, dread cheering for glee in their stomach, that Hero knew.

"It's not— I'm not—" Villain didn't know what to say, how to argue against the blatant truth. What else could they even say after this? On the third day, Villain hadn't slept. Instead, they'd stared at the blank ceiling of their room and pondered. They considered telling the hero everything. About their not-so-friendly meeting with Rival, about the way they'd been cornered and outsmarted, about all the symptoms that had come after that. But, for a plethora of reasons, they didn't want Hero involved.

Turns out they already were.

A week or so ago, Villain thought that the poison had hit it's worst point. Rock bottom, they called it. They'd take what they thought was the worst agony of their life over this any day of the week. Everything about them felt frail, as though their whole being was about to shatter like bloodstained glass. They didn't even have it in them to bite back anymore. The villain that did nothing but insult and taunt couldn't do anything but whimper like a sick dog.

All of a sudden, Villain felt a strong arm wrap itself around their waist, and in an instant, they were hoisted into the air, trembling legs supported by the hero's grip. They were taking them to the living room, Villain realised. Likely so that they could rest and recover easier, Hero had so far been more than insistent about proper relaxation after all. It was only when Villain had been gently placed on the plush sofa that Hero started talking again.

"When I asked Medic to look into the poison Rival is using, they told me that not even a superhuman immune system could properly fight it off," they stated, understanding crystal clear in their face. Villain could tell they were fighting to stay composed, but from the way their eyes flashed with a protective terror, the criminal knew they were everything but.

"The dosage, it shouldn't be a fatal amount," Villain gasped, unsure if the anxiety or the horrible, horrible sickness was more prominent here. "Rival didn't know I was superhuman, they wouldn't have accounted for that with the poison."

"Villain, the dosage doesn't matter. This stuff is dangerous, even in tiny amounts. I've seen what this stuff does to people, Vil. This is serious!" Hero sounded angry, almost enraged. If the pair hadn't known each other for as long as they did, if their history was any less intricate, Villain would have thought they were mad at them. However, this wasn't the first time that concern had painted Hero's face a deep shade of fury. They were hardly good at concealing their emotions.

From across the room, in perhaps the most inconvenient time it could, Hero's phone began to ring. Sidekick, almost definitely. Hero had to work today after all. At least, Villain thought to themself, already dreading the time they'd have to spend alone with the misery, this might give Hero some more motivation to find the bastard quicker. The sooner Villain didn't have to be in their lonesome, the better (although, they'd never say that to Hero's face).

However, the unease and apprehension was quick to fade. Instead of heading over to answer the phone, Hero took Villain's hand, thumb brushing over their knuckles with a touch gentler than Villain had ever experienced. The ringtone of the phone was loud, disturbing the tranquil morning silence, but Hero's focus never wavered, not even for a second.

"When I first noticed you struggling. I thought you were sick with the flu or something along those lines. Then, when it didn't seem to go away, I assumed you were going through something. Maybe a family member died, maybe you were burning out from work, I didn't want to press. I thought that whatever hardship you were going through, you just needed someone to keep you company whilst you regained your strength. A helping hand of sorts."

Both Hero and Villain seemed on the verge of tears, the two of them choking on a thousand words they wanted to say. Villain had suffered in silence for so long, even when they thought that this serum would have been the end of them. They didn't want anyone to care, didn't want anyone to waste their breath praying that Villain of all people would make it to the end of the week. Despite it all, despite the bitterness and the solitude, Hero cared.

"Vil, I'm not leaving you, ok? Not when things are this serious. I'll get Medic's files on the serum, I can call them over if you'd be fine with that. But I'm doing all of it here, with you."

"But," Villain rasped weakly. But what about work? If you're looking for Rival, you need to be with your team. This is an important mission; they need you. Villain knew they should counter what Hero was saying. Logically, it was ridiculous to drop this entire mission over Villain's wellbeing. Hell, eight days ago, Hero had never even shown a sign that they cared about Villain in the slightest. And here they were, fighting back sobs from sheer desperation. Maybe this was a long time coming.

"Please don't leave."

"I promise I won't."

[ghqstwriter]

“Civilian, what are you doing here?” Villain croaked out, eyes struggling to stay open, let alone recognise the figure before them. To say they looked horrific was an understatement; clothes torn and bloody, face visibly swelling, they were practically crumpled into a bloody heap of their own defeat.

Civillian — or, more accurately, Hero — stood stiff in front of the scene before them. Villain looked practically helpless, injuries far more severe than they’d ever come home with before. Their team wouldn’t have gotten here in time, not by a long shot. So, against all of their judgement, Hero had come.

“It’s ok, Vil, it’s ok, I’m getting you out of here,” Hero practically whispered, hoping the knot of fear in their stomach would disappear. Then, they crouched down, incredibly aware of the noises below them, and scooped Villain into a gentle hold as though they weighed nothing. If Villain was slightly more coherent, they likely would have picked up on Hero’s peculiar familiarness with the whole situation. However, since they were currently bleeding profusely, Hero decided to not hold it against them.

“Civ, you shouldn’t be here. Please, leave me,” Villain protested weakly, eyes flooding with concern for both of their safety. They didn’t want them to be involved in any of this, they’d sworn to their civilian that no harm would ever come to them. Villain always knew this would be a risk, they just never thought it would be this way round.

At the sound of footsteps ascending to the next floor, Hero cursed internally. The group of superheroes that had hunted Villain down knew they couldn’t get far on their own, and must have been searching the building. Sure, Hero knew they could easily take them down, but they wanted more than (almost) anything for their civilian identity to remain in tact. So, they opted to start running.

The problem was that Hero wasn’t Hero anymore. They gave up that life years ago, opting for a peaceful retirement for the sake of maintaining the balance of the city. At first, it was wonderful. They had time for all of their hobbies, a chance to pursue education after living out their teenages years as a crimefighting prodigy. They’d managed to scrape together a new civilian identity, with lovely friends and a stable routine.

And then Villain came along. They’d met when ‘Civilian’ had been caught in the crossfire between the criminal and their rather aggressive nemesis. The former had noticed the rubble promptly heading in the bystanders way, and in an act of unusual kindness, shielded them from any danger. A friendship formed after that, which led into a million different feelings that complicated things entirely for Hero.

They’d left everything behind for a normal life, away from the conflicting world of heroes and villains. Dating a villain (one who was already soaring through the ranks) placed them dead centre of the fight, . It was an entirely avoidable risk that would cost them everything if left unchecked.

Yet, the heart wants what the brain knows it can never have.

The pair had started dating a few months ago, now. By the first week, Hero had sworn this wouldn’t last long. In their experience, criminals tended to have flings quite a lot, looking for thrill but hating commitment. By the second week, they were both head over heels. Soulmates, their friends had called them. A perfect pair, the type of sappy lovers who ‘completed each other’. Their friends, to Hero’s loving dismay, were right. They cared deeply for Villain, who in turn loved them unconditionally.

That love had brought them here, terror clasping at their very being. Villain told them it was a simple mission, but instinct took hold of them the moment their beloved stepped out of the door. It was easy for Hero to intercept the agency’s radio, where they then learnt that instead of one super prepping to fight Villain, it was a whole team.

They didn’t think, didn’t even blink before they were out of the door, hidden weapon stashed under their clothes like a second nature. They’d grown to care for Villain more than they’d ever cared about anything as Hero. Losing them would be worse than their secret coming out. What was the point of being Civilian without them? They could save Villain, they were more than capable, they just had to pray that the reveal would go down as painlessly as possible.

Hero was brought back to the real world by the obnoxious sound of sirens blaring a block or so away. They’d always hated those. Gasping for breath, Hero leant against the brick wall of the alleyway, so lost in their worries that they hadn’t even realised they’d left the building. Instinctively, their grip on Villain tightened, and as they looked down at their partner’s wounded face, they felt tears start to well. Tears of relief mostly, but also ones of regret. If they didn’t intercept the agency, Villain would have died.

“Civ?” Villain’s throat sounded incredibly dry, and their voice was laced with confusion that didn’t deserve to be there. Villain was likely confused about a lot of things right now; blood loss did that to a person. However, the guilt Hero felt was insurmountable, and the surprisingly innocent look plastered across Villain’s face didn’t help.

“I can take you back to your base, once the sirens die down. I don’t— I don’t have a first aid kit on me,” Hero panted, barely able to keep from stumbling over their own words. “I should have probably thought of that, huh?”

Their muscles wailed, used in the only way that felt natural for the first time in years. Hero didn’t work out much, anymore. They were worried that if they looked too athletic for seemingly no reason, people would start to ask questions. It was a paranoid belief, but so many people wanted them dead that it felt reasonable enough.

“Civ, what’s— what’s going on? I don’t—“ Villain started, voice still low and grip tightening on Hero’s jacket. The latter had never seen them this vulnerable before. They were the dark, brooding type, who would have been utterly terrifying to Hero if not for their heaps of experience with villainy. Perhaps the fear of death was gnawing at them inside. Or, maybe the idea that innocent, completely oblivious Civilian was going to die too shook them greatly.

“Vil, look at me. Hey, hey, they’re not gonna get you, we’re both getting out of here. We’ll be fine, I promise, we’re going back to your base now,” Hero comforted, genuinely surprised they hadn’t slipped back into their old mannerisms. They didn’t speak how Hero did, who talked to civilians as though everything they said was likely going to be quoted a thousand times. When they said they’d be fine, they meant it like a prayer.

“Civ can we— can we please,” Villain began, hoarse voice on the verge of tears. They must have been in so much pain, Hero thought silently. Both physically and from the shock. Although Villain had climbed the ranks impressively, they didn’t have the experience Hero did. This was likely their first near-death experience. Hero hoped it would be their last.

“Can we go home, please?” They cried, and for a second, Hero wondered if Villain had worked it out yet. After all, they didn’t seem to want to speak to one of their medics. However, Villain looked tired, exhausted to the bone. From the way they were clinging to them, Hero could tell they just wanted to relax; to stop their heart from pounding. The hero smiled faintly, with nothing but love in their eyes. In that moment, they didn’t particularly care about anything else. Villain would make it home.

“Of course we can, sweetheart. Just hold on tight to me, I’ll get us there soon.”

[ghqstwriter]

i love ur writing so much! i was wondering if you would do a story where the villain stops in the middle of a fight because they noticed the hero was struggling way too much (like from past injuries or something) and they don’t like the feeling they’re getting from the easy win (its guilt)

it can be during the fight or afterwards im just hoping for some good hurt/comfort and maybe the villain has some angst around saving a hero

gender nonspecific or f/f please sorry if thats too much feel free to change details for ur liking

Villain didn't hate their job any more than the average person. Despite the few downsides that came with a life of villainy, they never felt as though they were working for the wrong side. Heroes were the enemy, and any force that conspired against them was a force worth devoting their life to. Those were the words they had repeated internally, over and over until the sentence didn't seem real. Still, they continued the mantra, hoping to override every other thought and feeling swirling within them.

Seeing Hero curled up on their sofa, in their living room, completely vulnerable in their apartment felt odd. This whole day had felt odd, a strange sensation nesting inside their stomach. Perhaps it was shame, for they were so weak-willed that they couldn’t even kick a hero down when they were wounded. Villain ran their fingers across the antiseptic in their hands idly, before deeming their work 'good enough' and chucking it carelessly into the first aid kit (which had already been hurriedly emptied moments ago).

“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” Hero commented weakly, as though that was supposed to make them feel better. Of course Villain didn’t have to do this. They had no moral obligation to do anything other than make the hero suffer. And yet, they reached for the bandages from amongst the mess of first aid equipment sprawled across the table.

“I know.” Villain replied through gritted teeth, dreading the fact that they had to look at the hero in order to patch them up. At first, they were pale. Dreadfully pale, as though the blood had already pooled out of their body. A statement that began as sarcastic and shifted into concern once Villain noticed Hero actually was bleeding, most notably from a stab wound on their side. The idiot had shown up to the fight already injured.

Looking up from the bandages they were gripping in their hands, Villain felt another pang hit their chest. Hero was trembling slightly, they could see that now that they were inching closer again. Their eyes fluttered between open and closed every now and then, a dazed look spread across their face. Pathetic, almost: the way they groaned slightly at every movement, barely able to bring their voice beyond a whimper.

Any other villain would have killed them in an instant.

"For what it's worth, I think this is very kind of you," Hero smiled as they spoke up again, trying to lock eyes with the villain who was doing their best to be as zoned out as possible. Despite everything the two had gone through as enemies, Hero always seemed to keep a place for Villain in their heart. They were an optimist, and a compassionate samaritan. Even from the beginning, it had made it excruciatingly hard for Villain to despise them as they did the others. This incident was not helping matters.

"Are you trying to make this harder for me?" Villain scowled; it was barely a question. As firmly as they could with Hero like this, they began to apply the bandages. The wounded hero whined at the pressure, muscles notably tensing and eyes tightly shut. At least this seemed to hurt them less than the antiseptic, Villain thought briefly.

The rest of the bandaging was simple, muscle memory kicking in. At some point, Villain had started wishing they weren’t so familiar with first aid, as by now they barely had to focus on the steps. Convenient, until they realised there was no intense distraction from the way Hero squirmed and gasped from the pain. Their face scrunched up and they clawed at the sofa, leaving a horrid taste in Villain’s mouth.

Villain was not naïve. They didn’t go into this job blindly believing they’d be helping elderly grandmas cross the street. Despite their motives, they were still causing harm, more specifically to heroes. That was, quite literally, the whole point of this. But, the sight of Hero looking frail and meagre felt wrong, like a crooked painting that your senses picked up on before your brain could. An instinct screaming that things aren’t how they should be.

“You know, I’m almost jealous that someone nearly got you before I did. Would be a pity for all these years of rivalry to go down the drain just like that,” Villain started, packing up the first aid kit as they spoke. They didn’t want to ask what happened, that would make it seem like they cared, which they didn’t. But, if they managed to get the conversation rolling, maybe they’d find a bit of luck.

“Guess that means this’ll be the first time I’ve ever needed to say thank you over your strange possessiveness.”

Villain wished the hero wasn’t so different to the others. That, like every other superhero, they’d come back with a quip, or some sarcastic insult. That never happened. Hero was sincere to a fault, genuine to a degree that Villain first wondered if they were physically incapable of lying. They realised that false once they noticed them lying to a reporter for the sake of calming down the fearmongering about villainy across the city.

“You’re in enemy territory, and you’re extremely vulnerable too. You shouldn’t be thanking me, I might be about to kidnap you.” Villain responded, though it didn’t seem to sway the superhero who was still staring softly at them.

“If I tell my superiors you kidnapped me, would you let me sleep on your couch for tonight?” Hero yawned. They’d been sleepy since they’d arrived at the apartment, which had first scared worried alerted the villain to how injured they truly were. Now that their injury had been thoroughly assessed, Villain’s heartrated had slowed at the sight of them, exhausted.

“You really think I’ll let you go once you’ve ‘slept it off’? I’ve been chasing you for ages now, and you’ve finally fallen right into my territory. Who’s to say this isn’t all some big trap?” Villain scoffed slightly.

“It’s you,” Hero answered, as though that explained every aspect of this predicament. Perhaps it did. Villain cursed internally; though they wouldn’t admit it, Hero had in fact seen right through them, even in this state. They paused for a second, contemplating what they could even say here that didn’t incriminate them entirely.

“You’re talking quite confidently for someone who was probably stabbed by some lesser villain than me.” Desperate to change the subject, Villain decided to try again and find out just who the assailant was. Few other villains ever interacted with Hero, much too off-put by their unusually sweet demeanour. The idea that it could have been another hero crossed their mind, though what superhero would ever have reason to cross them?

“It’s a long story. I’ll likely fall asleep before I even get to finish it,” Hero laughed, a look of pain and discomfort flashing in their eyes but not reaching their face. Oftentimes, Villain forgot Hero was a trained hero, which meant they had been through just as rigorous protocol as the rest of them. The pain they were feeling was probably much more intense than they let on, despite how honest they typically were.

As Villain looked down, breaking the eye contact between the two, they noticed how Hero’s hand seemed to be twitching, almost. As though they wanted to reach out but a deeper part of them refused to. Villain bit down on their lip hard. If they were in this much pain, they’d probably want some comfort too (they thought, knowing full well they’d never be this composed when in any form of agony). One half of Villain wished someone else was here, so that Hero could have some comfort and company from anyone less morally dubious. The other half was too jealous to entertain the idea.

"It hurts a lot, doesn't it," Villain started tentatively, uncertainty plain as day on their face. Hero nodded faintly in response, fighting back a grimace. While the wound hadn't been deep enough to need stitches, and likely missed any vital areas, the location still looked particularly painful. The blow definitely wasn't intended to be fatal, so was therefore probably meant to be agonising, a hypothesis supported by the zero signs of any other struggle across the hero's body.

"If there's, uh, anything you need me to do, just tell me. I mean, if I'm gonna patch you up, might as well go the whole way and stuff."

"Could you just– just come here for one moment."

Hero leant back, eyes shut and head resting against the arm of the sofa. They looked more than fatigued, pale and drenched with sweat from the blood loss. And to think they had tried to fight the villain in a state like this. Anyone else would have obliterated them, and bragged endlessly about how easy it was to kill the Hero. Initially, Villain thought it was integrity. Neither one of them wanted to go down in an unfair fight, that much was clear. Now, they had started to realise that wasn't quite the case.

Hesitantly, Villain brushed a few hairs out of Hero's forehead, fingers moving so delicately that they barely even touched the superhero. The latter didn't seem to mind it though, laughing sweetly at the gesture. The few moments between this and the hero promptly falling asleep, right there on Villain's couch, were as close to bliss as Villain was certain they'd ever feel. They cupped Hero's scorching cheek and gently rubbed their thumb over their cheekbone, eyes growing softer and kinder by the minute.

They'd go up to grab a blanket in just a minute. Make sure everything is ok for them before leaving to plan what on earth they were going to do now. But, for now, they were content to stay where they were, watching the steady rise and fall of Hero's chest, and noting how their heart rate managed to find tranquility in the presence of their Hero.

[ghqstwriter]

“You aren’t Superhero.”

The remark came from behind the hero, resonating within the shadows that the rookie was certain they’d checked just moments ago. The voice sounded amused, almost. Like it was ridiculous to think the person standing in front of them should have been the famous, almighty Superhero. As though the difference between the two was so staggering that it was practically humorous.

Hero turned around at the noise, a few moments slower than they probably should have, eyes widening at the realisation that they truly weren’t alone in the room. The figure before them was dressed in dark colours, not visibly armed but still radiating an aura of intimidation nonetheless. Most notably, however, the figure was entirely unmasked, staring directly at Hero with wide eyes and enjoyment tugging at their lips.

“I’m uh— sorry to say I don’t recognise you, either,” Hero commented, trying to play it cool as though there was ever an ounce of chill in their entire body. Their hands fidgeted slightly, fingers flexing nervously. Whoever this was, they weren’t in the files. That was strange, since the villain before them was completely unmasked, as though their identity meant nothing to them.

“I gathered. Don’t get out much, really. More on the introverted side, I’d say. Though, I can’t say the same about you: you’re the newbie I read about last week, something about a fire, hm?” The villain pointed a finger towards Hero, tilting their head to the side. Hero cursed internally, things weren’t looking good for them here.

This was their first major mission, a chance to get their name out of those boring papers that nobody reads and into the news stations that seemed to praise every other benevolent hero on the streets. Superhero had a habit of taking the rookies out for a fly everytime a mission was too dull for their tastes, and this time it appeared they wanted Hero to join them at their side.

“Listen— Superhero is on their way right now. So don’t try anything, ok? I mean, you were expecting them, right?”

“Aw, pity. Here I was, hoping we’d have a little more time to get acquainted. Hero, wasn’t it? Rhetorical question; I know I’m right.”

“Is that supposed to be a metaphor for— you know, torture and stuff?” Hero questioned meekly, to which the villain laughed. It wasn’t particularly menacing or cruel, not the type of cackle you’d see on a Sunday cartoon. It appeared as though everything about this was genuinely amusing to the villain. An amicable conversation with an old friend. Meanwhile, Hero had to tense all of their muscles in order to stop the trembling.

It wasn’t the sheer sense of power radiating from the villain, they weren’t terrified of evil. It was the uncertainty that shook them deeply. The agency’s success had always been defined not by the endless valour of their heroes, but by their extensive knowledge of the city’s threats. Hero had studied the files for hours on end, noting just how thorough everything was. A complete and comprehensive guide to Villainy, where even the most powerful, evasive villains were exhaustively documented. This one wasn’t.

“You’re just adorable, aren’t you? I think I’ve gotten quite lucky today. I mean, if any other hero had taken this route, I’d probably be stuck talking to some self-righteous idiot. Much less tolerable than you are.”

“What are you—“ Hero started, though was cut off as soon as they noticed that the criminal was walking towards them. They paused in their stride when the two were only standing a couple inches apart. As much as Hero wanted to flee, to create some space between the pair, they gathered that ‘against a wall’ is the last place they’d want to be right now.

A C-Rank villain. They were supposed to be fighting a C-Rank. Mild fire powers, flamboyant, much more bark than bite, though still good for publicity (according to Superhero). Despite how weak Hero’s powers were compared to the other supers, even they could take down a C-Rank. This villain was no such thing. Hero felt their blood run colder by the minute as the criminal looked them up and down, investigating now that they were close enough to see every nook and cranny of their persona.

“I’ll be honest,” the villain grinned as they spoke, hands gripping their new friend’s shoulders. “I’ve never actually spoken with a hero before. Never been one to see the value in the showmanship part of villainy. No heroes to foil your schemes if they simply don’t know you exist. Alas, as rudimentary as I find the agency, they have something I need.”

“I’m not telling you anything, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Hero bit back, more than intimidated by just how close the villain was. Upon further inspection, Hero confirmed their worries: the criminal was unarmed. That was unnerving. What kind of villain goes to confront a hero without any tools?

"Sweetheart, I'm not here to interrogate you. I just want to make a deal, one that'll benefit the both of us." As they spoke, the villain's hands started to inch closer to the hero's neck, although their grip wasn't particularly tight. The type of hold that would have felt soft if not for the hands tracing the hero's collarbone leaving behind a lingering threat. The criminal ventured onwards.

"Your little agency has a lot of data, no? A complete documentation of all the criminals of the world. But, all that information is practically public. Accessible to any trainee, any visitor, any eager reporter wandering around the building. It would be a horrible decision for them to document some of the more gritty, immoral details, and thus the comprehensive guide becomes not-so-complete. Tell me, Hero, where is it that you get all the information for your missions?"

"So what some information is missing from the database. If it was important to a mission, they'd tell me."

"Sure they would."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I've read everything there is to read about you, Hero. And, if my intuition is correct – which it will be, you'll rise through the ranks quite quickly with that potential of yours. They'll start assigning you to much more deadly villains and, well, I'm sure you've realised by now that the dangerous ones are the ones off the books. No information for them, what a tragedy."

Villain's eyes glinted slightly, words carefully planned. They were cunning, Hero thought to themself. The dictionary definition of the mastermind archetype. Although, they seemed a lot more defined and well-trained than the typical evil genius.

"Is that your end of the deal, then? Giving me information in exchange for something else?" Hero questioned, desperately trying to follow along. If this villain thought they'd picked the wrong hero to confide in, they'd likely get rid of them and search for a much more competent one.

"I'm not asking for much. Just that you'll keep the door open for me when I come knocking. My contacts list is extensive, a web of the most skilled professionals and bastards out there. But, unfortunately, no heroes. I'm looking to remedy that. It's a simple enough request, isn't it? Just think of it as friendship blossoming between us, if that helps you sleep at night."

Hero gulped, legs feeling unsteady. As much as their moral compass wanted to scream and kick, they really didn’t have an option here. It wasn’t just the villain that was leagues stronger than Hero, it was everyone. Their powers were more of a nuisance than anything, and all of their skillset relied on their strategic planning. If they lacked information, they’d be hopeless in a fight.

Deep down, Hero wasn’t even certain that the threats were the main incentive here. Sure, death was still a terrifying concept to them, they were a rookie. They couldn’t deny that for a second. But, if they refused this offer, it wouldn’t just be them dying. If a dangerous criminal got loose, and nobody knew how to stop them, how many civilians would die? At just the concept of it, guilt rushed straight to their chest.

“And what kind of favours do you tend to ask your contacts for?” Hero asked, uncertain.

“Like I said, you won’t need to get your hands dirty, Hero. I’m not a violent person. Far less bloodthirsty than most of my associates. I’ll be asking no more of you than your coworkers would. Information, security, a place to go when clients get a little roudy. Of course, all these same privileges would belong to you, too.” The villain promised, never once breaking eye contact with the hero.

Confidently, the criminal reached out their hand, waiting for Hero to shake it. A promise, one Hero knew they could never go back on. One that could save lives, albeit at the profit of perhaps the most deadly enemy there could be.

I'm sure you've realised by now that the dangerous ones are the ones off the books.

Trembling only slightly, Hero’s hand met the villain’s in a firm handshake. The latter’s expression shifted to something much more prideful, indicative of a job well done. They’d managed to convince a hero to make a deal with the devil, after all, no blackmail required. Hero didn’t let their glee deter them. This was the right decision to make; they’d spend so many nights sleeplessly scanning through documents because they knew that information was their one shot at heroism. At the promise of more, or more accurately: the threat of missing some, the hero was certain that the good of this deal outweighed the bad.

A commotion began to kick up outside, though the villain didn’t seem to react. Superhero was here, alongside that C-Rank who seemed much more insignificant now. Nowhere near as interesting. The villain gave one final smile before turning on their heels and headed straight to the door. Before they left, they swivelled their head back to look at Hero, who stood idly in the centre of the room.

“I’ll be in touch soon to set up the all the arrangements. Nothing too complicated, don’t worry. Oh, and of course, try not to tell your supervisors about our little chat.” Hero could only nod silently in response, a thousand sensations storming their mind at once. Their fists continued their incessant routine of tightening and relaxing as their nerves grew.

Heavy footsteps pounded from the top floor of the building. Superhero on the lookout for their newest trainee, oblivious to the scene that unfolded moments before their arrival. The criminal laughed softly, the type of laugh that sounded more like an exhale than anything. Then, moments before Superhero walked through the doorway, they left after making one final comment.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Hero.”

[ghqstwriter]

I want you to know youre such a good writer like omg i always wait for the day you post and eat those stories up. Like i like the most recent one about the manipulative villain, you wrote it so well

TYSM anon you're so sweet<33 🌟🌟

[ghqstwriter]

Please do more M/M Villain x Hero writing! Maybe the villain saving the hero but manipulating them in the process?

cw: this one is a lil whumpy, mainly themes of captivity and isolation

Pain is a concept synonymous with the lifestyle of a superhero. About half of the agency's training modules consisted of talks and exercises around all the physical harm that this job would eventually put the new recruits through. Hero had not gone into this job clueless, they knew that deep down, this day would surely come. But, as the restraints around their arms dug deeper the more the hero writhed, they struggled to bite back a whimper.

For the first time in their career, they were scared.

Helpless. Completely at the mercy of whoever it was shuffling around outside their cell door. The first few hours were nothing, Hero had taken worse injuries from regular battles than they had from the initial interrogation. Unluckily, Supervillain seemed to recognise that too. So they left, with no promise of when they'd return. And in the harrowing silence, blood drying on their scalp, the terror had swept in. This was it, their view for the remainder of their miserable days.

The days began to blend together until Hero truly had no idea how long they'd been held captive. A blur of utter solitude and gloom. Supervillain rarely appeared too, dropping off the bare minimum for survival whenever Hero had passed out from exhaustion, just to make sure the isolation was complete. It was after an eternity of this routine that Hero finally realised they weren't here for information. They were here so that the final, agonising moments of their life would stretch on towards the horizon. One foot always in the grave.

The first sign of a change came when they heard a muffled voice from outside the dark confines of their chamber. People were talking, frantically, and soon the sound of rushed footsteps followed. The guards had somewhere else to be, that was unusual. Hero didn't question it, initially, too dazed to imagine where they could be headed. Somewhere nicer than this, that's all they knew. In fact, it took until they could hear someone speaking clearly – the first non distant voice in eons – before it registered in their dulled brain that a plan was afoot.

"You look even shittier than usual."

At the sound, blunt but lacking aggression, Hero strained to raise their lulling head, vision blurred by time. The figure before them was almost entirely obscured by the unforgiving shadows in the corners of their cell. If it wasn't for that all-too-familiar voice, Hero wouldn't have recognised their visitor, mostly due to their monochromatic outfit that hid their discerning features.

"Vil?" was all Hero could croak out, voice raspier than they had expected; the consequence of it only being used to sob into an abyss that never responded back. Understandably, Hero wasn't fully coherent, running at less than minimum capacity from exhaustion and sheer pain. It was a fact that was smothered all over their face, eyes unfocused. The man in front of them, almost undoubtably Villain, crossed the fathomless room in a few mere strides, and crouched down to where the pair were almost at eye level.

"To think your friends would just leave you to rot here, decomposing inside of yourself," Villain's tone shifted, soft and pitying. It would have felt patronising if not for the utterly horrific state of the hero, who was struggling to stay conscious throughout the encounter. As their head drifted to the side from weariness, the villain grabbed their chin firmly, ensuring that they had no choice but to make weak eye contact.

"Such a shame that, after all that pleading, they still decided you weren't worth saving."

Villain's words stung, hitting what felt like their already weathered heartstrings. Uncharacteristically, they felt an onslaught of tears ready themselves, a minefield about to erupt. If you go on this mission, we won't be able to save you. That's what Leader had said. Supervillain was perhaps the most fearsome adversary the team had met thus far. If they confronted them, desperate to save their friend, the odds of a total team annihilation were too high, according to them. The city needs its heroes. If we all drowned trying to save a dead man swimming, the people would have no one. Yet, Villain had come. They appeared almost unscathed, though Hero was far from the ideal state of mind for analytics.

"It's the one thing I've always despised most about that agency of yours. So-called martyrs who are far too concerned with saving their own skin, always leaving people to choke on their own blood. If an ally of mine was hanging on by a thread, I don't think I could possibly leave them to suffer alone," Villain soothed, their expression imperceptible. Scrutinising, almost. Were they implying what Hero (barely) thought they were? "It's ok though, it'll all be ok. You'll be out of this place soon enough, I promise. It's safe at my place, I can take you there if you'd like."

Hero grit their teeth. Every muscle in they body wanted to melt into the villain's soft touch, wanted them to soothe them asleep with comforting murmurs. However, they didn't need coherence to understand the villain. It was as though muscle memory had kicked in, like their body had adapted to their nemesis' presence. This is a trick, don't fall for it.

"Fuck you."

When Hero had cussed out Supervillain, doubling down and refusing to cave under any type of interrogation, the latter had lashed out. Yanked their face with a much less kind grip, and spewed every threat in the book. If they weren't so terrifyingly powerful, it would have seemed pathetic. Villain, however, grinned widely in response, no tidbit of agitation to be seen. They pulled away from Hero slightly, allowing them some space to breathe, and beamed as though their companion had just won an award.

"Glad to see you're still here with us, Hero." Villain's hands were still cupping the Hero's malnourished cheeks, though it felt much less infantilising. Just the usual amount of twisted affection for the criminal, Hero recognised, even half delirious. Was that some sort of test? A sick, sick way to see how far the hero had fallen? Something twisted in their stomach, something more than hunger.

"Stop playing around, asshole," Hero groaned, their voice raspy enough to cause their throat to ache with each slurred syllable. Villain laughed quietly at the term of far-from-endearment, eyes still gleaming slightly.

"You're awfully resilient, Hero. Never been one to back down for the sake of a kinder life. Even if it means.. this," Villain hesitated slightly at that last part, face darkening for a moment, though Hero was far too disjointed to pick up on it. "Pretending like you'd fall for flattery and buttery praise would be demeaning to both of us, so I'll skip the honey-drizzled sympathy:

Your team aren't coming. Those incompetents would never try and stand against Supervillain, they know they'd never stand a chance. Yet, I stand by what I said earlier. You're far too brilliant of a hero to be left to decay like a corpse. A waste of talent, so to say. I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen. And, since you just so happen to be my dearest enemy, I plan to do it join-me-and-get-vengeance-speech free. No need to belittle you when you're already, well.." Villain trailed off, not losing the cunning in their tone that always made them seem a million leagues ahead.

"But?" Hero questioned, still not able to mutter more than five words at a time. As much as they despised the villain usually, something intrinsic inside of them longed for some company. Isolation had clawed at their insides like a rapid animal, unaware of their own frenzy. Still, this was Villain. A criminal. Criminals don't break their enemies out of captivity without a cost. Villain's smile widened.

"But, Supervillain is still Supervillain. Everyone's petrified of even saying their name. Even if they don't kill me for this, odds are I'll be losing a lot of my resources over this. I'm really sticking my neck under the guillotine for you here."

"So why save me? You could– you could leave."

"You, my favourite little hero, are more valuable than any alliance I could dream of having. So, I'd prefer it if you stayed a little while longer under my care. No torture, no bindings. I'm told I'm a rather welcoming host. Besides, it isn't like you have any friends waiting eagerly for your arrival."

At that, Hero choked on a wail, feeling as though they were on the verge of bursting. Their eyes blurred with tears, vision obscured to the point that they couldn't see Villain's brow furrowing at their change in demeanour. Hero didn't cry. They didn't. They also didn't accept help from morally dubious criminals who were no doubt lying and scheming. Sure, Villain had sworn to a little sliver of sincerity, but through their almost-heartfelt grin, they could see the specks of silver that was their tongue.

It didn't matter that this was their only way out. It didn't matter that they spent what felt like centuries suffering as far away from the sunlight as they're certain they could be. Sure, Villain's touch was painkiller enough, easing the pain and reigniting their nervous system that had long forgotten what gentle touch was. But they couldn't just fold under this promise. They were Hero, for fuck's sake. But, they didn't feel like it anymore. A shell of themself, almost. A mewling, sobbing imitation of what had once been mighty and powerful. They didn't know how much longer they could last.

Hero didn't need to speak. Didn't need to beg or plead for Villain's help. Instead, they leaned in, nuzzling their head into the criminal's shoulder as their body quivered from both relief and sorrow. In return, Villain pulled them into a hug, shockingly mindful of their restraints, and softly petted their hair. The hero was so exhausted from it all that they truly couldn't differentiate between the villain's manipulation, and genuine comfort anymore. They welcomed it nonetheless.

Swiftly, Villain cut their restraints as though they were made of silk, and swept them up into a carry, more than aware that the hero's legs had begun to waste away. Before they headed for the cell exit, guards still seemingly unaware, Villain uttered one last reassurance.

"You made the right choice, Hero, so stick with me now. I can make this all better for you soon."

Skip the honey-drizzled sympathy my ass.

[ghqstwriter]

If you have the time to write this could you maybe write something where the Villain thinks they are under the influence of a love potion given to them by hero’s allies. That only seems to take effect every moment after they see hero. Feeling they are in love with them.

But when they confront the hero’s teammate they find out to their surprise that they gave only gave them a ‘speak your heart’ potion to get them to confess their crimes, they never thought or expected them to have feelings for their friend.

Coming to the shock and realization that they had indeed fallen for the hero on their own but had been ignoring it/suppressing it. Now they are at the point where they can’t deny it any longer. Thanks if you ever get around to writing it. Hope the rest of your day is wonderful and every other day forward!

The grip Villain had on the bathroom sink was rigid and firm; to say they were white-knuckled would be an honest understatement. It was a mistake to ever trust a hero, they should have learnt that by now. Supposed beacons of moral good who were willing to cut every corner in order to keep up with their supercilious reputation, that's all. Yet, here they were, teamed up with their worst enemies in order to stop a rogue hero who decided flattening the city sounded much more fun. And look where that got them: cowering away in a locked bathroom, fighting the urge to smash something.

They realised the drink had been spiked the moment they swallowed the first sip. It had activated instantly, as if the peculiar taste wasn't enough of a tell; the moment they looked up to see the hero, sat tidily across the table, they could feel their pulse begin to quicken uncontrollably. A fight or fight reaction to the drug, Villain had first thought, a hypothesis supported by their flushed demeanour and clammy palms. Even Hero noticed how sickly they looked. However, things took a concerning turn when they left to grab some water, and the symptoms suddenly stopped. Their heartbeat calmed the second Hero was out of range, though their mind still seemed to linger on that sculpted face.

A fucking love potion. It was unbelievable. Sure, it was obvious how little most of the team trusted the villain, but seriously? This was their way to make Villain behave? It wasn't the nature of the potion that irked them at this realisation (love potions seldom lasted long), but rather it was more about the ridiculous invasion of privacy, all because Villain couldn't be trusted to do the right thing for once. And so, they did what any reasonable person would do, and started yelling at the idiots who thought this was an immaculate masterplan. Rather honestly, actually. Surprisingly to even them, their words went a lot deeper into how they truly felt about betrayal than they'd planned.

But, then came the bombshell. As though Villain's day hadn't already been turned into enough of a minefield, Sidekick spoke up, sounding bewildered and almost amused. "We didn't give you a love potion, Villain. It was a truth serum of sorts, stops you from being able to hide stuff. Listen, we were worried you'd withhold information, you're a criminal after all. Plus, if it lasted longer than the mission took, we were, um, thinking we might be able to get a confession out of you. But, uh, looks like we might be getting a different type, I guess."

Villain didn't have a response for that. No amount of wit or sass could overcome the feeling amassing in their stomach, like an arrow went straight through them. They pitifully choked out a threat (one the team knew they couldn't be bluffing about) and promptly disappeared, headed straight to the nearest bathroom, hoping they could hide away behind a locked door until their hands ceased their trembling. Unfortunately, the universe was far from benevolent — especially to Villain, it so often seemed. It only took ten minutes until a visitor made their presence known, and consequently, Villain's heart began to hammer.

"Villain, are you in there? I just wanna check you're ok, you looked really sick earlier, did something happen?" Hero's voice sounded more than concerned, filled with the usual sympathy and compassion that Villain's heart began to melt at. Of course Hero had come to check on them. They were the only person in years who would meet Villain's eyes, with a gaze that lacked any trace of malice. The last true good samaritan left, they thought. Villain remained as silent as they could through their staggered breathing.

“Villain please, I can hear you in there, something’s wrong. If you don’t at least answer me, I’m gonna have to break the lock to make sure you don’t need emergency care.”

The only response Villain could manage was a scoff, though it wasn’t a hateful one. In the Hero’s eyes, Villain could be dying on the bathroom floor, drugged or having some sort of seizure, and yet they still sounded so guilty about the idea of invading their privacy. If only their moronic teammates were just a fraction of compentent and nice as Hero, maybe they wouldn’t be fighting the urge to double over and throw up. Deep down, a part of them wanted Hero to come in, console them attentively and reassure them. But, they knew that wouldn’t exactly help with their problem, so opted to keep their mouth firmly shut.

Villain heard their crush sigh worriedly on the other side of the oak door, before the noise of the lock snapping and the door slamming open resounded across the tight room. Before the criminal could even turn to face Hero, they had already sped towards the villain, who collapsed pathetically the instant Hero tried to wrap and arm around them. Unsurprisingly, the super caught them as their limbs came in, gently lowering them until the pair were on the ground, faces much closer than Villain was used to.

“What happened? Are you sick?” Hero questioned, free hand splayed against the villain’s feverish forehead, and the criminal quickly discovered a newfound problem with this godforsaken serum. It didn’t just stop the villain from lying: it meant they couldn’t hide anything either. They couldn’t omit anything if they tried. Their usual lies and dismissions echoed like a mantra in their head, as though they could convince themself that the truth was fabricated. I’m fine. I’m probably just sick. Must be stress. I’ll just sleep it off.

“Those birdbrained nitwits you call colleagues thought I’d be much more reliable drugged. Truth serum, they told me.” Villain blurted out, their voice wavering slightly as they tried to fight off the urge to confess anything and everything. Hero’s facial expression wasn’t replaced by confusion, but instead frustration. They hardly seemed shocked.

“Those idiots— I thought I convinced them to scrap that plan. I’m so sorry Villain, I don’t even know where they got the serum from. I’m worried this could all be a side effect, or worse, there could be something harmful in the ingredients. I’ll take you to Medic, we need to get this checked out—“

“No, no, we don’t need to do that. Please,” Villain interrupted, putting a temporary pause to Hero’s anxious rambling. They knew exactly why they were clamming up, why they felt as though they were on the verge of fainting into a pathetically yearning slump. Humiliation started to claw away at them, puncturing their lungs and gnawing at their windpipe. They couldn’t tell Hero they liked them, hell they’d only just realised they actually had a crush.

“I know you don’t like doctors, but if there was something else inside that vial that my team didn’t know about, we have to act fast, this could get ugly quickly. Plus, we don’t even have your medical records, there might be potential allergens, so please, Villain, let me take you to Medic,” Hero begged. Their voice was excruciatingly soft, and their tone was sickeningly genuine. Instinctively, Villain melted into their nemesis’ hold, looking up at their indescribable beauty wordlessly.

“This isn’t the serum, Hero. Well, it’s the serum but it’s not the serum. I’m not dying. I just— it’s just—“ It wasn’t that Villain was omitting the truth, trying to hide within a labyrinth of stammers and pauses. Their brain felt like it was shutting down, all language receptors powering off amidst a meltdown. They felt borderline delirious, barely able to string together a sentence without whimpering. They’d never been in love before, they’d no idea how horrific it could feel. Hero listened to their murmuring patiently, not wanting to ever rush them. A sweetheart, really.

It’s nothing, I’ll get over it. “I’ve never felt like this before.” Please just leave me alone. “Can you please just stay here?” I don’t want you here. “I don’t want to speak to medic, just you.” I don’t need you here. “I don’t know what to do with this, I need you.” I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. “It’s you.”

Hero was evidently speechless, seemingly trying to piece together the puzzle of just what was happening. As they spoke once again, they maneuvered both themself and the villain so that the two were more in more comfortable positions, although it meant that the already flustered Villain was practically in their hero’s lap. They could barely keep their eyes open, heartbeat desperately thrashing against its locked cage inside Villain’s ribs. They couldn’t do this, this felt extreme, even for a crush.

“Hey, hey. Villain, can you look at me? Trying to fight it will just make the pain worse, you got that? Tell me what’s wrong, and I can help you fix it, you know I can.” Hero’s hands gently cradled the jawline of the trembling villain.

“You’re too sweet, it’s killing me.” No, no. Absolutely not. We are not doing this on the bathroom floor. Get up, Villain, you idiot. “You’re so gentle with me, I can’t stand the thought of not seeing you. I never thought it mattered, the way you looked at me. But now, I don’t think I can ever stop noticing. I love you, Hero, I think I always have.”

The hero didn’t respond. Didn’t reject them, didn’t recoil away in disgust. Instead, they pulled the villain into a tight hug, burying their face into the criminal’s shoulder. Villain blinked for a few moments before everything seemed to click. Half an hour ago, they didn’t even realise they thought fondly of the superhero, but now, every realisation, every sweet sentiment, had bubbled up to the surface, and exploded from the sudden pressure.

“I like you too, Villain, more than I even thought I could care about a person. I’ll stay here, even when the serum has worn off, even when the mission is over, I promise,” they started, internally noting just how tightly their villain seemed to cling to them, like the hero would vanish if they loosened their grip for even a moment.

“But, as much as that explains a lot of what’s been happening with you, your symptoms are coming across as unusually severe. Crushes don’t usually do all of this. If there’s something unusual about the serum, we need to speak to Medic about it. I’ll be with you the whole time, I swear. They’re a lot nicer with me.” When Villain tilted their head upwards to look at the hero, their heart swelled with joy that almost nulled all the distress their body was going through. Almost.

Unfortunately, Hero was right to be worried. If they were the one who had been drugged, and their symptoms were showing to be severe, Villain would have likely imploded with sheer concern.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to Medic on these legs, would you mind ca—“ Villain stated shakily, yelping when their lover sweeped them off of the ground into a bridal carry, though it quickly shiften into a genuine laugh. Their cheeks became impossibly hotter, though their grip on Hero’s shirt loosened slightly as relaxation started to settle in. Truth be told (which seemed to be the pattern of the day), they didn’t mind if this truth serum made them sicker than a dog, because at least Hero would be there to hold them tightly from now on.

[ghqstwriter]

How about a villain that’s horrible at flirting, and a hero finally realizing that the villain was in fact trying to flirt this whole time instead of being intimidating

Hero wasn't exactly the claustrophobic type, far from it. However, Villain's presence felt so overwhelming that they couldn't help but cower, trapped between the brick wall and the tyrant in front of them, face dark as usual. They didn't want to admit it at first, but Hero was more than terrified of the criminal. Sure, the hero was competent, a superhero with the highest success rate on their team. They were envied for their powers, and praised for their heroic deeds. Invincible, some would say. Yet it was nothing in comparison to Villain.

The criminal had always managed to find a way to be several steps ahead. Sometimes, it felt as though their (immensely impressive) acts were nothing to them, just a detour in their grand plans; a fun game that involved spinning the hero around in circles aimlessly. Hero was the city's shining honour, the one on the front lines, their best defence, and yet Villain was way out of their league. Too powerful of a threat to imagine overcoming.

And now, here they were, both supers dressed down in civilian outfits, with nowhere for Hero to run. A shiver crept up their spine. It wasn't the first time Hero had seen Villain's face before, for they had taken off their mask mid battle one time. An act of mockery, Hero had assumed: it doesn't matter if you can track me down, there's nothing you could do to me. But Hero had always been cautious to keep their double life under wraps. And now, it was about to come tumbling down, a house of cards that Villain had sniffed out almost instantaneously.

"Come here often?" They spoke, voice as monotone and threatening as usual. Hero gulped, hoping Villain wouldn't notice their darting eyes. Why would that matter? Was this place of importance to Villain? Oh God, was this some front, or some stashed away hideout? They just wanted to grab some takeout after an arduously long day of work, but of course their luck had to shove them under the bus.

"No I, uh, was just looking for a quick meal after work, you know how it is, right?" Hero stammered out pathetically, already regretting their choice of words as soon as they tumbled out of their mouth. Of course the villain wouldn't be caught dead eating greasy takeaway after barely winning an uphill battle. Hero knew a handful of heathens who would kill someone for presuming that. The thought chilled them. Here's to hoping they aren't one of them.

"Dinner, here? Aren't you supposed to be the agency's shining star? Seems a little beneath a hero's standards to me." Villain remarked, voice still as sinister as usual. They didn't believe the hero, was that it? Did Villain think they caught someone snooping around, jamming their nose right where it shouldn't be? Hero could only hope there was a different motive here, else they're certain that the punishment for that would be horrific.

"It wouldn't be particularly heroic of me to ask for compensation for what I do. Defeats the whole purpose of a good samaritan if you ask me," Hero retorted back, hoping that if they pretended they weren't cornered, it would somehow come true. Villain only chuckled grimly, as though Hero's answer was amusing rather than desperate, albeit somewhat true. Sure, they could probably negotiate a better salary if they really wanted it, but Hero was seldom the type to want anything. They took what was given and stuck to the rungs of their ladder.

"Hm, I suspected as such from you," Villain began, words setting Hero on edge. As much as their words changed, their tone never did, remaining at a monotone baseline which happened to be a menacing and threatening harmony. "You know the other heroes at your agency could never feel the same way, don't you?"

Of course they did; it was apparent to anyone with some semblance of a brain that most of the agency's recruits were flashy, looking for a rise to fame or a reason to feel some superiority. Most of them got weeded out fast when they realised just how gritty the job got, not that the agency cared. New faces kept the public excited, meant there was still intrigue and some sick form of relevancy. Hero knew this, but that shouldn't surprise anyone. The way Hero's attitude contrasted their peers, it felt like a fact not worth bringing up, of course they were different. So why bring it up, Hero pondered.

This wasn't, in fact, the first time Villain had mentioned this, either. Nor the second, or the third, and definitely not the fourth. It seemed to be the Villain's favourite comment during their encounters, how unique the hero's motives seemed to be. Authenticity in a field of insincerity, as they had once put it. Perhaps it was why the villain seemed to terrorise Hero more than anyone else – more fun to watch someone with only good intentions crumble under the weight of failure and shame. All coherent responses and witty comebacks crumpled up and disintegrated before they could make their way out of Hero's throat, so they opted to change the subject.

"What do you want from me, Villain?" It was all Hero could manage without coming across as particularly feeble. There was no point trying to writhe their way out of the situation, nothing they could say would stop a villain. 'Please, no, I'm unarmed!' As though a criminal could ever have the decency to care. The criminal took a step closer in response, probably knowing just how claustrophobic Hero was, and using it to their advantage. It was their fault, really, for being such an open book right now. They weren't exactly good at hiding their fear, not when it came to Villain.

"You're trembling, and not in the way I'd prefer you to be," they stated, leaving Hero's fear to momentarily be replaced by confusion. What did that even mean? The superhero's mind jumped straight to the worst scenario, and then the terror started to seep in again. Trembling in pain, that's what Villain wanted, of course. Great, on they were about to be kidnapped and tortured (probably for fun, who the fuck knew at this point) and their last act of free will would have been heading to the shittiest fast food place in the city and––

"You're scared of me. Downright terrified. Trust me, it was more than enjoyable at first, but it's getting a little excessive, don't you think? Sort of loses it's novelty when you go from intimidated to practically-sobbing-at-the-sound-of-my-voice levels of fear. I plan on changing that."

Hero's spiralling train of thought ceased for a beat at those words, only to be replaced by a new, slightly less terrified model. They weren't what Hero was expecting at all. Villain was petrifying, and the way they spoke consolidated that entirely. If they weren't happy with how terrified Hero was, why did they keep acting like that? Why did they insist on getting as close to the hero as possible? And, hey, whilst they were on the subject, why on earth would Villain have a problem with this? They were missing something, one cog that would get all the other gears turning.

"Am I understanding you correctly? You're mad that I'm– scared of you? Like that's a bad thing, now?" Hero questioned, trying to push back during this brief moment where bewilderment overcame distress. Villain scoffed at that, though didn't come across as particularly offended.

"Listen, Hero. Some murky alleyway isn't where I'd like to be having this conversation. There's a new restaurant opening up a few blocks away from here. I'm not one to keep up with the fine-dining corner of the world, but I can only assume it's of a better standard than this place. I'll come find you tomorrow night, so you'd best be ready. No weapons, no teammates, no unceremoniously poisoned wine on either side. Just us. And don't worry, it'll all be out of my pockets, you won't have to stain your reputation of honourability and ask for that payrise. I'll see you then."

Villain was gone before Hero could properly register what had been said. Vanished untraceably, after dropping one bombshell after another. And, just like that, the geartooth clicked into place, and Hero's brain started thinking. Slowly at first, but picking up and changing into a great speed, so fast that they thought they might overheat, blood rushing to their face. Had Villain asked them out on a date?

[ghqstwriter]

Usually, when Hero awoke from the night terrors, they’d manage to find comfort in the familiarity of their bedroom, and that would calm them down. However, once they jolted awake, drenched in sweat yet still shivering to the bone, their anxiety only grew. Where the hell were they?

As they lurched forwards, untangling themself from the unusually light sheets, Hero was quick to note the dull ache that had spread across their body. Injuries, most likely. Was this some new safehouse? Had they been wounded in a fight? It seemed likely, their arms and leg were all bandaged tightly, but clearly with care, and most notably, Hero had been stripped down to their innermost layer of clothing. Thankfully, the sun was scorching and summer was dawn on the horizon, so that didn't seem to bother them.

Curious, and slightly suspicious, they slowly began to stand up, testing to see if their newly damaged leg could withstand their body weight, to which they would find the answer was 'just about'. Hero subsequently began to limp out of their room, taking in the surroundings with an analytical mind. The place didn't seem too fortified, meaning that safehouse was almost out of the question, however, who would take a superhero hostage, only to leave them someplace easily escapable?

As they entered what appeared to be the main living area, they first noticed the window. It was large, and impeccable clean. Outside appeared to be a beach view, with the tides rolling in peacefully, and the sun resting alone in the sky, no visitors outside to watch it's slow descent. Then, they noticed the figure, seated on an L-shaped sofa, one arm dangling off of the armrest. At the sound of Hero entering, the person glanced upwards, and as their eyes locked briefly, Hero paused in their stride, opting to lean against the doorway for support.

"Is this your place, Villain?" Hero questioned, still feeling too weary and fatigued for the usual sense of urgency to kick into full swing. Villain seemed entirely unbothered, too, as though they were fine with Hero wandering the halls as they pleased.

"It's under my name," Villain answered plainly, in about as vague of a manner as Hero had expected. "Though if you thought I'd take you to my actual house then maybe I should re-evaluate your condition. Concussions are much easier to spot when someone's awake, I suppose." Villain sat up in their spot, crossing their legs with intrigue.

"Re-evaluate? So, I take it you're the one who bandaged me up then?" Hero shot back, questioning. What plan did Villain have that involved keeping the hero alive? Why not let the wounds infect themselves; why not let the hero rot?

"Ah, well, the bandages weren't my idea. Your wounds seemed to have been treated when I found you, I simply thought you might prefer it if you woke up dazed and confused in a proper bed, rather than amongst the worms."

"What would the world do without someone as empathetic and generous as you? Truly a modern saint," Hero started, sarcasm growing more prominent as the sentence went on. They started to approach the Villain, crossing their bruising arms as they did. "Why'd you bring me here?"

They were towering over the still seated Villain, now, looking down into their eyes and watching them calculate the next response as they shuffled where they sat. The sirens were glaring in Hero's head, this is entirely uncharacteristic for the villain. They didn't look for a fair fight, and they certainly didn't care when Hero was in peril's path. In fact, Hero had always thought they relished the despair of their enemies.

"Because the universe seems to deem you unlucky. You were out cold in the middle of nowhere, completely vulnerable - and murmuring in your sleep, might I add. Already sounds dangerous enough, but then for a criminal to be the first to find you, all on your lonesome? Sounds almost too good to be true, for me at least," Villain always seemed to radiate an aura of pure smugness, however this time it felt almost fabricated. An imitation of the criminal's usual apathy. "I don't like it when my wins are served to be on a silver platter."

"So, you found me in the wilderness, completely on my own, no help in sight?" Hero asked, almost feigning confusion. Villain went to confirm, yet as soon as they uttered the first syllable of a lie, Hero cut them off. "Then who bandaged my wounds? Because they definitely weren't on my body before I collapsed."

For a split second, Villain's grin faltered. And, in the silent moment after that, their eyes darted down to Hero's leg, which seemingly had the worst injury. Obviously, Villain was looking at the bandages. They were the topic of discussion, and the criminal was probably thinking through their story, nothing more. Yet, Hero couldn't help but feel a tinge of embarrassment creep up their neck. They really weren't wearing much, and most of their skin was showing.

"I had assumed the bandages were from an earlier fight," they reasoned, though Hero knew it wasn't the truth. The bandages looked fresh, and Villain was an experienced fighter who should know by now when the bindings look older.

"The truth, if you will. Who bandaged my wounds?"

"You were bandaged when I got there. I wouldn't know."

A beat of silence, followed by several others, in which the tension between the two grew. They hadn't even realised they were leaning closer to each other until their noses were inches away. An unspoken competition; give in before I do. Then, Villain sighed in frustration, and leant their head against the couch pillow. Hero was familiar with anger plastered on the criminal's face, yet this felt less serious. The type of irritation that comes upon you when you lose a bet. Exasperation that holds no malice.

"My medic found you before I got there. They dealt with the bandages just after notifying me. According to them, the damage isn't severe, so don't worry yourself. You just weren't exactly in the most hygienic location, hence the caution."

Hero smiled triumphantly at that, having gotten the villain to admit defeat. Perhaps they had caught them during a soft spot (something Hero was thrilled at the thought of Villain having), since they had taken them to their own place, instead of dumping them at some hospital doorstep. Speaking of which--

"The damage isn't severe, yet you still brought me back here? Who would have thought the city would ever see the day that you grew a heart that wasn't rotten to the core," Hero commented, hoping to press more information out of the villain, who seemed to be more than seething that Hero hadn't taken their win and run. Though, amongst that scowl was a hint of worry.

"Like I said, you murmur in your sleep," Villain commented, voice lowered and tone the closest to soft that Hero had ever heard. At that, it was Hero's turn to wobble, unable to stop their lips from drooping into a frown. The night terrors, they could infer. Something writhed in their chest at the mental image forming in their head.

Through some miraculous luck (or by a certain criminal's stalker-ish tendencies), Villain's team had found Hero in the practically abandoned countryside, and when the criminal themself had arrived, the protagonist had likely been thrashing and yelling like a child sobbing in the night. And, when presented with this sheer sensitivity from someone they called a nemesis, Villain had elected to scoop them up like a wounded pigeon, and carry them into bed. Hero didn't really know what to do at the idea of that. Sure, it was known that Villain disliked when the hero was assigned to other criminals, but that was because they wanted to be the one to finally land the kill, right? This was a type of possessiveness that felt foreign when coming from hands that had once throttled the hero with vicious intent.

"I, uh, suppose you're looking for a thank you, then?" Hero asked, truly uncertain of how to thank the villain for doing something they didn't even think possible of them.

"You can stay the day. That would be thank-you enough."

[ghqstwriter]

Hi! Could you write a story where the villain (F) and hero (M) used to date but broke up because the hero was only pretending to love them in order to gain information from them, but due to some reasons, a couple years later they were put in a mission together to hunt down a common enemy and the villain got injured trying to save the hero and now the hero is nursing them back to health? If its not too much trouble, thank you! :)

“You’ve never been one to let go easily, have you?” Hero murmured thoughtfully, placing the back of his ungloved hand against the villain’s sweltering forehead. The touch was feather-light, and his hands weren’t cold, yet she recoiled slightly at the touch. Surprised, perhaps.

“You’ve never been one to think about things before you do them, either,” Villain commented back, voice weak and strained. She had only propely woken up a few minutes ago, after a day’s worth of fading in and out of consciousness. Her body ached like she had the world’s worst flu, yet she still did her best to look Hero in the eyes.

“I’d say ‘shielding your sworn enemy and ex-boyfriend from an explosion with your own body for no particular reason’ sounds more like recklessness than anything I’ve done of late, hm?” As Hero spoke, there was an evident uncertainty in his tone. He had dwelled on the matter for the entire duration of Villain’s unwanted rest, yet still couldn’t work out why she had done what she did. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Villain had always been utterly devoted to the people close to her, willing to take any not-so-metaphorical bullets for them. A few years ago, it wouldn’t have come as a shock to Hero if this had happened.

But, this wasn’t the past. It wasn’t a distant memory. This was real, a truth surrounded by the bitter, everpresent sting of the present. Things should have changed. But Villain didn’t. Sure, her hair fell shorter than it had done back then, her clothes were of a different hue, and her tone was anything but snappy and distant. But, when the silence was interrputed by that click, and the familiar scent of doom lingered, Hero realised that he’d greatly underestimated the impact that their fling had had on the girl.

Hero averted his gaze, an invasive sense of shame welling up in his throat. The more he thought, the harder it became to look her in the eyes. An exchange of information, that was all it had been. Heroes had betrayed Villains before, lulled them into a false sense of safety. How different could this have been from all the other times, he had thought all that time ago. Hindsight had never been something the hero concerned himself with, but now he found it digging at his ankles, too sharp a sensation to ignore.

“You’re brooding. That’s new. Did someone finally start feeling emotions other than pride?” Villain tried to laugh, but all that came out was a scratchy wheeze and a scoff that burned her throat as it clawed its way out. Hero’s fists tightened at her words, and even in her fatigued state, she locked onto it immediately. “All I’m saying is,” she continued, pausing only to cough. “You’ve not exactly proven yourself to be the type that cares what happens to everyone else.”

She blinked a few times, slowly finding herself more and more awake. Then, she tried to prop herself up upon the mountain of pillows that adorned Hero’s bed — something else that hadn’t changed since their time together. After a few moments of her evident struggled, Hero rested a hesitant hand against the small of her back, trying to offer some support. Usually, his movements were calculated, efficient in getting to the optimal outcome. Here, he wasn’t sure what to do. Guilt was a stranger pounding against his door, harshly enough to leave a dent.

“You’re—“ Hero didn’t know how to vocalise the feeling trapped in his chest. Didn’t know what words he should say. You’re important to this mission, that’s all. I need you to be useful, even if I have to be the one to help you heal. That’s what he should have said. The harsh truth, right? That’s why he had saved her, carried her all the way back to his home, and tucked her into his bed, right? It was the reason he had sat anxiously at the bedside, longing for her eyes to flutter open, running his fingers through her hair when she didn’t. Without her, everything crumbled. The mission, of course.

Hero glanced back down, meeting Villain’s eyes once again. She was looking him up and down, eyes moving when the rest of her head couldn’t. Was she checking if he was hurt? After everything that happened to her, was she worried about him? The idea only nurtured the remorse growing inside him. It made him think back to yesterday, the moments before the explosion. The way she had screamed before Hero had even realised anything was happening, the fact that she was by his side within a moment. She had pulled him close, and it was the first touch they had shared in years. An embrace, almost. Something deep inside Hero told him that he had missed her touch, and that even in such dire circumstances, this was safe.

In every moment, Hero felt as thought the regret reached its climax. Surely, this mountain of guilt couldn’t grow anymore. Yet, it did. Reaching unfathomable heights. This is who he had betrayed without a second thought, the one person in the world who would be willing to give up everything for him. She’s evil, he had thought. Scheming and coniving. She’s got ulterior motives here too, she’s just mad I found what I needed before she could. That’s why she’s sobbing, speaking of betrayals and trust. It’s all a ruse to make me think it’s real, a convincing one at that, but it’s all a ruse. Just there to make me feel as though I’m safe around her. But she can’t trick me.

The shame had closed up Hero’s throat almost entirely now, cutting off his airsupply. He couldn’t breathe, looking at her. Seeing how frail she was, how hurt she had become, and how she didn’t seem to care about that pain once she realised that Hero was ok. For a split second, he wished he wasn’t. He had been so selfish, misunderstood everything in it’s entirely, and by some cruel trick of fate, he wasn’t the one paying for it.

Slowly, he reached out, gently brushing his fingers against a scar forming on her face, caused by the debris that had been flung against her face. Then, the crimestopper stood up suddenly, wishing he missed the look on Villain’s face as he did. Longing. In one last act of selfishness, he headed for the door, not feeling he could keep it together any longer. Her hand reached out for him, though he was already turned around fully.

“I just need to grab some more medicine from the store for you. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

He didn’t want to be. He wanted to leave and forget Villain had ever happened to him. It wouldn’t be the first time he had shattered a promise that he had sworn to her. Yet, it was the least he could do to someone who had already given up so much for him, despite it all. Before he could leave, Villain raised her voice so it could be heard above a whisper.

“Empathy’s a good look on you, Hero.”

The comment haunted him the entire drive the the store, and the whole way back. He had to make it up to her, somehow. It would be a monumentous task, considering all the hurt he had conflicted. But, even if she didn’t forgive him, he had to try.

[ghqstwriter]

Hello!! Can you please do a flirty hero and a flirty villain who cant keeps their hands off eachother, even in the presence of both boss, just leading them to be more discreet

“Of all the fake covers in the world, the two of you chose this?” Sidekick whispered, already reaching a state of utter disbelief and borderline disappointment in record time. A feat that seemed to be achieved every time their mentor spoke with the criminal before them.

Villain’s arm squeezed tighter around the hero’s waist, who squirmed slightly in response. Pretending as though they ever had to pretend to like it. It was a difficult trick to balance; act too disgusted towards their supposed partner, their cover is blown out the water, and they risk the mission collapsing like a house of cards. Play too well into the role of the lovestuck fiance, and risk their teams growing suspiscious.

Sure, every hero and every villain in the area knew how the pair acted when they were together. When the city’s darling heartthrob and the criminal known for catching rookies off guard with flirtation and seduction first met, nobody had really expected things to end differently, much to the dismay of their respective bosses. However, this was different. Sincere, almost. Lovers: that’s what they were playing. The type of honeymooners with sticky sweet pet names and long, drawn-out kisses that always seemed to linger. The type of connection that, if genuine, would raise the alarm bells of every one of their superiors within seconds.

“You know me, Sidekick, all my best roles have been of the… romantic sort. Nobody’ll bat an eye if I don’t leave their sights, and we don’t want to be split up on a case with stakes as high as this,” Hero muttered back, hoping that there was enough of the truth sprinkled in there to stop their teammate from locking onto the lies immediately.

Sidekick took another breath in, the realisation that this was what they’d be dealing with all mission settling in like an anvil meeting hard concrete. They could hardly mask the exasperation in their tone as they raised their voice, careful to stay in character now that their words could be heard. “It’s really so nice of you both to come out here to the countryside to visit. I’d be happy to point you to some of the best places to stop by whilst you’re here, what kind of things are you two looking to do?”

“Oh, a little bit of everything, I’m sure. You only get one honeymoon, why limit yourself, I say,” Villain spoke up, vague enough to let Sidekick point them in the right direction. Neither super had been properly briefed on the actual location. Then, they leaned closer towards the Hero, their breath warm against the protagonist’s skin. “Though, we won’t want to stray too far from the hotel room, if you know what I mean.”

Their voice dropped at that last part as they shot a grin, and Hero had to grit their teeth in order to keep their composure. The bastard wasn’t even trying to take a character here, just attempting to rile up the hero as much as they could. Usually, their nemesis would retort back with an even more sultry remark, free to match their energy. Now, Hero was writhing under the pressure of maintaining image, and it was clear they relished the opportunity to tease.

“Honey, we’re in one of the most beautiful country towns of the country, and the sights are stunning. What’s the point of coming if we spend our time in the bedroom?” Hero chastised playfully.

“I’ll have to agree with you there, the sights are just mesmirising. Can’t take my eyes off of them.”

Hero choked internally at that response. They had expected this, sure, and had even gone over some lines with Villain on the drive here. However, there was something unfamiliar in the way they spoke, something resting underneath the surface that seemed to bubble. Perhaps it was Villain’s tone. It didn’t seem as sweet and fake as they had expected, in fact they weren’t putting on any type of voice. The criminal spoke as though this was usual banter; as though the words that dribbled like honey out of their mouth weren’t a lie made to help solidify a fake cover.

“Baby, you can’t just say these things, we’re in public. I told you in the car not to act so brashly in front of my cousin,” Hero laughed slightly, trying to cover the frustration and get Villain to behave. Yet, they were relentless. The criminal leant impossibly closer, intertwining their fingers with the hero, a gesture so genuine it felt foreign, especially coming from them. Hero blushed slightly.

“Well, I told you not to look so sultry or else we wouldn’t be out for long, but here we are,” the criminal was fully murmuring in Hero’s ear now, a symphony only meant for them. The recipient was far too flustered to respond, so Villain kept on pushing. “I’m just saying, you know how I much I like you in that colour, and with that shirt too? You’re practically trying to make me swoon at that point, sweetheart—“

“Oh hey, would you look at that. I think I left my… bag in the car,” Hero started awkwardly. Then, they sprung up, grabbing their jacket. “Mind coming with me to fetch it, darling?” They sped away without even looking back, heading for the mostly empty parking-lot. They didn’t have to glande behind them to know Villain would be following close. As soon as they reached the parked vehicle they arrived in, Hero spun around, looking more than midly infuriated.

“What on Earth do you think you’re doing in there?”

“Hmm, that’s a funny question. Here I thought it was your idea for us to play lovers,” Villain remarked, moving closer to Hero until their figure was touching the cold metal of the car.

“I didn’t mean you should turn every other sentence into some euphemism about sleeping with me. We’ve both been lectured about this countless times, you know this.”

The lectures, oh, the lectures. As though the reason that Hero was burning up was because they feared reprimanding from their superiors. No, there was something else teetering at the edge of secrecy here. A flicker in Villain’s eyes that left them on the edge of their seat, practically writhing in anticipation. They both knew it.

“But that was the reason you wanted this role, wasn’t it? To not have to hide behind discretion with me anymore? To finally, after months of frustration, get to feel me again in a touch softer than a punch?” Villain only stopped moving when they were a few inches away from Hero’s face.

They were right. Of course, they were right. Hero wanted nothing more than to get back to their old routine of playful banter and persisting touches. It was their own version of a fight in a way, more akin to roulette than anything else. To the both of them, it was a game of endurance: whoever folded under the other’s flirations lost, and Hero’s scale seemed to be tipping against their favour. Maybe it was in the way Villain had spoken to them, and how their gaze seemed to always follow Hero’s movements. Maybe it was a few too many comments about a hotel room for it to come across as casual. Hero gulped.

“Yeah, the usual routine. Not whatever this is. You can push all the blame on me, Villain, but you’re the one who’s looking at me like you want to smooch me,” Hero responding, pretending that all they were feeling was annoyance.

The two had never actually kissed before. Thus far, they had been meeting on a purely professional basis. No time to sneak off and pursue any type of intimacy when there’s a bomb threatening to bring you to a different type of high. Besides, their relationship wasn’t about the pleasure, Hero thought to themself, though the look in Villain’s eyes made them doubt everything.

The villain in question didn’t follow that up with a crude or suggestive joke. They stared for a beat, almost smug. And then, when they did, their words didn’t feel as smooth and calculated.

“Is that what you want, hm? For me to kiss you? Is that what you’re so desperate for that you dragged me out of the room for?” Villain smirked slightly, drowning any sincerity in a flirtatious tone. They wanted Hero to admit it first, the jerk. That way, they wouldn’t be losing the game, because it was Hero falling to their knees, begging. Villain would just be giving them what they wanted. There was no attempt to hide it, not even an attempt to hide that they wanted it to. Because out of the two of them, Villain knew that Hero’s resolve would break first.

And it did. It shattered into a thousand glass shards as Hero clutched at Villain’s shirt, fists balling in frustration, and pulled them into a long overdue kiss. To both of their shocks, it was rather less aggressive than they had both imagined it to be. As their lips entangled, they were both struck with the horrifying realisation that this was a terribly sweet first kiss, and they weren’t even playing a part anymore. What was supposed to be an accumulation of years of tension and flirting had ended up being something more akin to a gentle confession.

When the two parted briefly, panting mostly due to the worry lodged in their throats, Villain started fumbling for the car keys, an uncharacteristically uncoordinated sight. Breathless, Hero spoke.

“I’ll tell Sidekick to email us the location,” they gasped, swinging the car door open carelessly. There were more important things to focus on. “I think we should get back to the hotel room first.”