Writersblog

Warnings: Very Spicy. Smut, basically. Gendered characters. Based on this request. Minors DNI please.

It was going well. The weather was clear: no rain to obstruct the view, no sun to mess with her lens and blind her, no wind to affect the trajectory of her shot. She had sneaked onto the roof past the security, and even the snipers on the neighbouring buildings had failed to notice her. She even had spare time to set everything up and tune in. It was going too well.

Villain shook her head, returning her attention to the arriving guests as car after car came to a halt on the street below, all kinds of VIPs spilling out and into the richly, albeit tastelessly, decorated hall. She watched groups of heroes and villains come in, followed by the big bosses - polished superheroes, brooding supervillains and then he appeared. She watched the staff buzz around in evident anxiousness at the sight of his car turning the corner. Yet it wasn't the mayor. Oh no. It was the man who owned more than just the key to the city - the one who owned everything. Still, it stayed behind the scenes, the puppet master of the underground mafia and overground government.

Villain's fingers flexed, preparing to pull the trigger the second his head was in her aim. Nothing could distract her at that moment, her focus firm on the shiny bald head with no neck. Villain narrowed her eyes, her finger curling around the trigger when a sound to her left caught her attention, interrupting her moment. The gravel crunched under someone's boot, alerting Villain of an unwelcome presence a second too late for her to escape. Hero's body came crushing on her back, pressing her down face-first - as she was laid out on the rooftop, aiming at the entrance to the Grand Hall of the Rathaus. Villain groaned at the sudden heavy weight, the gravel digging into her thighs and chest as Hero squished her under himself.

She turned her head to the side, trying to breathe as Hero's elbow landed an inch from her nose. He leaned closer, whispering into her ear. "Got you."

"You're crushing me," Villain growled in the back of her throat, jerking under him. She felt hot all over, anger overcoming her. This was supposed to be the highlight of her career.

Hero chuckled, all too pleased with himself. "Did you forget I'm always a step ahead of you, baby? I knew you'd be here before you even came up with the plan."

Villain rolled her eyes, trying to elbow him in retaliation. "Get. Off." She barked out, her agitation and the uncomfortable position making her cheeks red.

Hero hummed a no, making himself comfortable on top of her, hips a little too tight to hers, pressing her down. "You won't hear me out if I do."

Villain huffed, blowing a strand of hair away from her eyes. "Whoever said I will listen now?"

Hero raised an eyebrow at that but was made to regret it soon when Villain started screeching at the top of her lungs. He groaned, covering her mouth with a calloused hand to stop the ungodly sounds. "Shut your pretty mouth, the snipers might hear."

[cw: suggestive, vaguely non-consensual]

The villain watched the hero jerked in her bonds as she entered the room. She used slow steps to approach the chair to which the hero was secured, gazing down at her figure like she was a buffet-style meal set out for a private dinner. Ankles and wrists bound as they where, the hero could not move away. She could only sit, which the villain took full advantage of as she carelessly entered her personal space. The villainess widened her stance to straddle the hero’s legs, coming to rest slowly atop the hero’s thighs.

The hero, whose face had been fairly stoic up until this point, stared wide-eyed at the woman now settled in her lap.

“Uhhhh, hi.”

“Hello, darling.” The villain flipped her hair over her shoulder, bringing up one hand to rest on the heroine’s shoulder and another to tuck the hero’s own disheveled strands gently behind her ear. “Happy to see me?”

The hero froze.

The villain gave her a disappointed look, lips pouting obviously.

“Sorry,” it prompted the hero to choke, “This is just, um…”

A short laugh burst from her lips. It was a graceless kind of chuckle, one born out of pure awkwardness and unfamiliarity no doubt. The villain observed with raised eyebrows.

“You think this is funny?”

The hero took a moment to catch her breath, managing only the barest of nods before breaking out into a second, stronger bout of laughter, something akin to a child-like giggle.

“Well, if you think this is so comical,” the villain thumbed the top button of the hero’s shirt, “you won’t mind if I play to the audience for a moment?”

The button came undone, and so did the one after that. Momentarily, the hero blue-screened. The villain stared hungrily at the newly-exposed skin, reaching into her back pocket for something to fill her hand. She traced a blade towards the hero’s chest, trailing down from her neck and passing over her collarbone lightly. The hero shivered, opening her mouth several times with nothing coming out.

“Is there something you’d like to say, love?”

The hero blinked.

“Sometimes I seriously wonder if you’re real.”

The villainess tilted her head, questioning.

“Oh, sweetheart? And why is that?”

The villainess angled her face down and batted her eyes towards the heroine.

“This,” the heroine gestured with a circular nod of her head, “is not real-person behavior.”

Despite the unimpressed statement, the hero’s eyes were wild, searching the villain for indications of intention or sincerity.

“Well I can assure you, honey. I am more than real.”

It was then that the villainess laid hand on skin, fingers spreading and curling ever so slightly. The hero’s breath caught.

There was absolutely nothing unreal about the villainess’ touch.

The warmth of her palm, the probing of her fingertips, the bite of her nails. Undeniable.

The hero’s chest rose heavy against it. She bit her lip.

“I don’t suppose we could…take this somewhere more comfortable?”

“Hm. And ruin this perfect picture?” The villainess raised her other hand, taking the hero’s chin within her fingers, tilting so all her features were bared. “I don’t think so, baby.”

The sweetness of her smile had the hero’s face turning red, as if roses had taken up residence on her cheeks.

It was a beautiful sight, one the villain would never get tired of.

Hero blinked a few times as they awoke, their eyes stinging as they adjusted to the newly bright room around them. They groaned in pain and tried their best to stretch their fatigued limbs.

"God," they thought "everything hurts..." Before they could continue their internal complaining, a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Good morning, darling"

"Villain.." Hero sighed in a disgruntled manner, tensing slightly the moment they registered who had brought them to where ever they were.

The sound of Villain's heels clicking against the cool tile floor as they walked around Hero echoed through the room. Hero slightly craned their neck to watch Villain as they walk to stand in front of them. "How do you feel, gorgeous?" Villain smirked gently as they spoke - god, Hero loved that.

Focus. Hero looked down and averted their eyes from Villain's face, "how would you feel if you got kidnapped" Hero snapped, voice going up an octave as they spoke.

Villain gently gripped Hero's jaw, forcing them to look up. "Look at me when you talk to me," Villain says lowly, a gentle growl thick in their throat. Hero felt their face heat up and the breath catch in the throat. "Now. With less attitude, darling, how are you feeling?"

Hero stammered out their answer "I-i'm fine.. head hurts... Uhm.. obviously" They cleared their throat nervously - why did Villain have to be this close to them.

"okay, good puppy," Villain gently pet their hair as they stood up in front of Hero, "I'll clean that up for you so you can rest" Villain runs their thumb over the now bruised wound, pressing down at the middle of it. Hero gently whimpers at the pressure, pain flaring as the tender flesh is touched. Villain gently kisses Hero's bruised temple before leaving and Hero is left there to think.

The hero interrogates the villian but it seems they have more history than the others thought.

(maybe they grew up together, used to be friends as kids, etc etc and nobody knew that they knew each other this well)

"You're lying."

"Am I?" the villain raised an eyebrow.

"You always cross your legs when you lie."

The villain's legs immediately twitched, as if to sit properly on the chair, only to pause. As if the very act of adjustment damned them. They scowled at the hero.

The hero beamed sunnily back.

The detective looked between the two.

"Yeah, well," the villain said, "you wouldn't be so good at reading people if you weren't trained to be a desperate people-pleaser to avoid setting off your shitty parents."

"Um," someone said.

The hero's smile dropped. "You're bringing family into this? Really?!"

The villain shrugged. "I find it's good for you to yell at someone occasionally. I'm happy to provide you a much needed outlet for your anger issues, darling."

"I don't have anger issues."

"They said angrily."

"You're dodging the question!" The hero stabbed a finger in the villain's direction. "We know you were at the gallery when the painting was stolen. The only question is who took it."

"I'll never tell you where it is."

"You didn't take it," the hero said, rolling their eyes. "That would imply you have taste."

"I have taste."

"Do you, though?" the hero asked. "Because I've seen your bedroom and-"

"-I'm sorry," the detective said, "you've what now?"

"-I was fifteen!" the villain snarled.

"God, that carpet. Tragic."

"Get it all out," the villain said, venomously. "There you go. You want to call me daddy to really add to the fantasy of being able to stand up for yourself?"

The hero's hand twitched violently and they took a step forward.

"O-okay!" The detective swiftly stepped between them, eyes wide. "So I'm sensing some not professional tension here."

The room was quiet, for a long moment.

The hero drew in a long steadying breath and let it out.

The villain sighed and uncrossed their legs, as if slumping in their chair dramatically, head tipping back, properly masked the gesture.

"Anyone want to explain the conflict of interest?" the detective asked. "Before my investigation is completely screwed?"

"We knew each other as kids," the hero muttered.

"We dated."

"We never put a label on it."

"That's because you have commitment issues."

"I committed to stopping you, didn't I?"

"And yet," the villain said. "The painting is gone. And you're wasting your time whining at me instead of chasing the thief."

"So I was right and it wasn't you."

The villain paused, jaw twitching.

The hero smirked.

"Well," the detective said. "Isn't this just fascinating. I love my job." They sounded like they were trying to remind themselves of this pertinent fact.

"Does that mean I can go?" the villain asked.

"No," the hero said. "It means you can tell me what you saw before I call your grandmother."

"Now who's invoking family."

"You started it."

"She wouldn't tolerate your calls half as much if she knew we'd broken up."

"You didn't tell her we broke up?!"

"Neither did you," the villain pointed out.

"That was for information."

"Are you listening, detective? I'm pretty sure that counts as getting evidence illegally."

"They're not technically under our employ," the detective said, stare turning to the one way glass, as if for back up. "Different rules for civilians."

"I'm not a civilian," the hero said, sounding mildly offended.

"Well," the villain said. "Now I'm definitely not chatting to you about the painting."

"Are you really so incompetent that you didn't see anything?" the hero asked.

"Your bait is obvious and beneath you."

"I'm not the one who can't identify a suspect and had my painting nicked beneath my nose."

"I thought you said I'd never take Love is Altitude Sickness because I had no taste?"

"It's cute," the hero said, "that you care so much about what I say and what I think."

The villain once again ended up scowling. The hero once again summoned a sunny, biting smile.

The detective pinched the bridge of their nose.

"You know what," they said. "I don't care anymore. I can't do this. Both of you out."

"WHAT?" Both hero and villain turned, outraged, to the detective. "But the painting?"

"But my sanity," the detective said, blandly. "Go on. Shoo."

"You need to undo my cuffs," the villain said.

"Oh, please," both hero and detective said, "you unpicked those at least five minutes ago."

Both hero and detective turned to look at each other, perturbed.

The villain considered, then shook their cuffs free, standing up.

"You can't shoo me," the villain said. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

"Unhelpful," the hero offered.

"A walking migraine," said the detective. "If you wanted to kill me, you could have already done so."

The villain pouted. "And if you wanted information, you could ahve got on your knees and asked nicely."

The hero scoffed. Barked an incredulous laugh.

"And you could try a pretty please some time too, hero," the villain said. I know you're good at it."

They sauntered out.

The hero whirled after them.

"I know that you're an utter ASS! You-"

The detective watched them go, bickering, and sat down on the chair head in their hands.

"Boss-" The door opened.

"Give me five minutes," the detective said. "It's fine. I'm fine. Everything is fine."

Five minutes later, on the dot, the door opened. A regrettable prediction.

The detective looked up.

The hero stood there, shoulders squared, a touch of pink on their cheeks.

"So," they said. "I know who took the painting."

"Uhuh," the detective said, dryly. "I don't want to know."

"It was just-"

"-I really don't want to know," the detective said. "Just stick to filling me in on the suspect on the way, okay?"

"Okay," the hero said.

Contains: blood (not much), knives, violence

Civilian’s eyes fluttered open, their vision intensely blurry. Blinking a few times to clear it up and wincing from a sharp pain in their temple, they raised their head. Instantly they startled, letting out a yelp as a figure came into focus across from them—staring right at their face.

“Awake at last,” the person drawled, tapping their fingers on the table-the table? 

“W-wh…” words failed Civilian immediately, their mouth refusing to cooperate. Their brain hadn’t yet caught up with their surroundings, but they were pretty sure they were sitting up. Why would they be sitting up? Who was the person on the other side of the table? Where-

“I’m sure you have quite a few questions.” The stranger’s voice interrupted their train of thought. “But I have some rather more pressing ones for you as well.”

Another wave of hurt came from Civilian’s head. They reached up a hand to steady themself, ignoring the stranger, but felt something…wet. With some hesitance, they took it away. It was covered in blood.

“I’m sorry about that,” the person said in a tone that didn’t sound very apologetic. “My employee was a little rough. But it was a necessary precaution, as I’m sure you’ll soon understand.”

Civilian tried to respond, to ask what was going on, but their voice wouldn’t cooperate. All that came out was a dry, rasping cough that shook their whole body. 

“I’ll give you a minute to recover,” said the stranger. They shifted through a pile of papers on their side of the table that Civilian hadn’t noticed before. Their pen jotted a few quick notes down on one of the sheets while Civilian took a deep breath, trying their best to ground themself. They couldn’t panic. They had to stay focused. If they couldn’t figure out what was happening and didn’t manage to escape on their own… well, Lover had insisted on them having that tracker in their phone.

“Wh-where am I?” They finally managed. Their voice was hoarse, as if it hadn’t been used in months. Hell, they didn’t know how long they’d been out. It was possible. Unlikely, sure, but possible. God, I really, really, really hope not.

The stranger smiled and wrote something on their page. “The Agency, of course.”

Civilian blinked. “The-the Agency? Like… the hero agency. For people with actual superpowers? What?”

“Most people with actual superpowers, as you say,” the stranger corrected. “There are always those who slip through our fingers and dedicate themselves to villainy. That’s what I’ve brought you here to discuss.”

Their head pounded. “Who are you?”

The stranger’s grin widened. “Why, I’m Superhero. I thought that was quite obvious.”

Warnings: Past Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Past emotional Abuse, Language, forced marriage.

Pt. 3

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"I wanna make a deal."

Hero looked up from where she standing, she was out in the balcony in her new room since the two newly wedded couple wouldn't and didn't want to share a room.

It was a fairly large, bigger than her room in her apartment, that was for sure. There was very large walk in closet which was empty, except for her clothes which only fit in a small portion in the whole closet.

The bathroom was also nice, there was a nice big tub, a jacuzzi, a elegant glass shower with a mirror and decent looking decorative things. The curtains were clear, showing the shower itself. There was also a bench in between the sinks and the small table and baskets for laundry and other accessories.

The bedroom itself was pretty amazing. The bed large enough for atleast five people, the pillows soft and fluffy, the sheets silver and black. The walls painted a light shade of gray with black lamps. The windows were fairy normal with black curtains, along with a small balcony.

Fair to say was that she would never run out of material things.

"What?" Hero asks in confusion, turning to him.

Supervillain slowly walks inside the dimly lot room, staring at Hero who stood right in the light of the moon. She looked beautiful. He shook these thoughts away and moved around the few boxes in the room that still weren't unpacked.

He then joins her on the balcony, staring at the dark night sky. The airspace was clear, except for the fact that it was lit with stars and a few clouds were floating above.

The moon was full, and it was a view Hero would not forget. She had never seen the moon in such a pretty position, considering, her bedroom was on the second floor of a mansion.

She turned to him, frowning. "What deal?" She questions, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Supervillain clears his throat. "I wanna make a deal with you, Hero." He turns to her, choosing his words carefully. "I know that this.....marriage.....is not what you want, me either for the fact but both of us are now married. The treaty will not change, nor will it stop it. It was futile,"

"Is there a point to all of this?" Hero asks, letting out a sigh. She twiddles with the jewelry on her hands and wrists, eager to have them off along withe the dress and heels.

Supervillain stares at her, glancing away and clenching his jaw. "Look, I know we don't have the best relationship but I do believe in marriage, and know I do not like cheaters nor do I like divorces." He states.

Hero looks away but still listens carefully. "I would never cheat, even if this marriage is against our will,"

Supervillain slowly nods. "Look, our marriage is just a show for everyone, we'll keep our end of the bargain... for a few months before we start attacking." He shrugs, leaning against the railing. "Not that the Heroes could stop us since your not there anymore, you were clearly the brains. They gave you away, their loss, our gain."

Hero cracks a small smile.

Supervillain smiles back at her, although it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looked tired, like he had aged a millions year up. He wasn't the same conceited, laid back, cold, full of amusement villain that she knew. He looked like a guy who had lost his freedom.

Still, Hero listened carefully.

"Our..." Supervillain starts, hesitatinly. "...relationship. It's not ideal with me being a villlain and you being a hero. But I don't want our relationship to be disastrous either,"

"Then what?" Hero asks, she then proceeded to take the gloves off since they were bothering her. The cold air felt nice against her bare arms, the gloves had been long and reached past her elbows.

"We should have a mutual respect for each other, in public and in...private." He trails off, shifting in his stance. "Although this may not be what we want, I want us not to hate each other. We will have respect for each other, but don't try to stop me from doing villain stuff, nor will I stop you from doing anything you want."

Hero stares at him before slowly nodding. "Trust me, I have no intention to stop you or the other villains, not anymore." She says bitterly, looking away.

Supervillain stares at her, surprised.

She glances at him. "Don't look at me like that, he abandoned me. I couldn't see it before, maybe because I was so blind, but Superhero was never trying to help me." She swallows hard, fisting her hands. "He left me. He betrayed me. You and your friends can do whatever you want," she looks away.

Supervillain frowns as he watches her. He didn't like Superhero, no scratch that, he hated his nemesis. But now seeing the fight leaving Hero's eyes, he felt pure hatred for Superhero.

Hero glances at him. "I won't stop you. What else?"

"You can have whatever you want," Supervillain tells her, looking out in the distance. "Nothing can put a dent in my bank account, so you can buy whatever you want. Do whatever you want,"

"I'm not a material girl." Hero mutters with a shrug. "But okay."

Supervillain bites his lip, letting out a sigh. "I can't promise you that you'll be happy here, but I will try to make you happy. And," he adds hesitatinly. "You will be protected here. I will always protect you,"

Hero frowns and looks at Supervillain.

He looked like he was remembering something. His eyes were cast in the distance, in a daze of some kind. It was like he was in a memory of some sort, remembering something.

She didn't say anything. Unlike other times, the silence between them was comfortable. Hero could distinctively remember when she and her team used to get captured by Supervillain, her team would do the talking with Supervillain.

She would usually say silent, but she could always feel his eyes on her. Always.

...............

"You know you'll never win," Leader smirks, he may have been handcuffed like his teammates and on his knees but that did nothing to conceal his arrogance.

Supervillain only stared at him, his eyes raised and cold amusement on his face. He leant back his desk in his office, staring at the team of Heroes.

Leader was in front of them, on his knees since he was the main hero. Other Hero, Other Hero 2, Youngest and Hero were in the background, stood behind their so called Leader.

Supervillain could see that Other Hero was glaring at him, her eyes narrowed with disgust. She was trying to discreetly break free but she couldn't, and she was doing a bad job at it.

Other Hero 2 was also trying to break free, in his gaze was arrogance. He kept looking back ans forth between him and Leader, his lips pursued.

Youngest looked scared, however she did well to hide it, a futile attempt since she was shaking with fear but it was honorable.

The only smart person on the team, from what Supervillain could gather, was Hero. She had stayed silent and had been observing everything silently, looking around and she wasn't trying to break free. A smart move on her part.

She didn't look scared, she instead looked annoyed, she looked absolutely done with her Leader. But for some reason, she had stayed silent and instead watched her Leader babble stupid stuff.

Supervillain was starting to like this Hero. Every time he saw her, she had stayed silent and was always observing everything. She was smart and intellectual. Something he could tolerate.

"And why pray tell, will that happen?" Supervillain asks, cocking his eyebrow.

Leader grins. "Because villains are always destined to lose. Our organization will come for us."

"Like hell they will," Supervillain heard Hero mutter under her breath. He raised his eyebrows, a smirk growing on his face.

He looks at Leader. "Hmm, you may be leader but your not the brains, no, your too stupid for that." He rolls his eyes.

Leader clenched his jaw, glaring at him.

Supervillain looks at Hero. "You however, unlike your incompetent team, look smart enough." He smirks. "Tell me, do you think you'll get out of here."

Hero blinks. No one ever talked to her, she was only ever a background hero. She hesitatinly glances at her leader.

"Why are you looking at him?" Supervillain asks. "I asked you the question. Not your dumb leader."

"Hey!" Leader protests. "I'm the team leader, not her!" He snaps, clenching his jaw.

Supervillain raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He mocks with a chuckle, he glances around tye room at his people. "Because here I thought the hero organization tasks the smartest people as the leader, not the dumbest. Look like I was wrong," he shakes his head. "Because to be honest, she looks like the smartest."

Laughter rang around the room.

"Sweetheart," Supervillain says turning to Hero. "You didn't answer my question." He raises an eyebrow at her, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"No, I don't." Hero answers.

"Hero, what the fuck?" Other Hero asks with a glare.

Hero ignores her. "We can't escape because at the front of your lair you have a two key system which can only be opened by your recna scan, your eye scan to be specific. And most, or well, all of your guards have a gun which is a MG3 Machine Gun, which can be dangerous." She nods to the guards.

"Your lair also has a set of traps, the staircase has a sensitive system which can determine if someone is running and can, therefore turn into a slide or trap them with a net." She explains.

Her team gawks at her.

"Each door in your lair has a lock with a pin, which we do not know. All the windows are probably, most likely, locked and even if they are unlocked, they will most likely hold a trap of some sort. Your guards also carry stabs which guess also have a lightning shock or taser in them which can be used to shock people. Your guards also know how to fight with a sword due to their marks, they have calluses on their hands, I have the same calluses. Your also too smug, which can mean you can fight each of us and defeat us easily. And this room, I'm betting, has a touch system too." She smiles. "Each hallway also has a camera, which can also help you to see us if we mayhe even escape, and that is a hard maybe."

Everyone stares at her, one of the guards shifts uncomfortably.

Henchmen stares at her, his lips parted, he looks around before looking at his boss.

Supervillain stares at her, his gaze cold before he smirks with amusement. He slowly brings his hands up and together and claps, an impressed look on his face.

Leader stares at her, his eyes wide with shock while Youngest stares at her with awe. Other Hero stays silent but she gulps. Other Hero 2 stares at Hero, his eyes wide.

"Was I right?" Hero asks, raising an eyebrow. She smiles at Supervillain, leaning back on her feet.

"I knew you were the brains. I knew you were smart but not at this point," Supervillain grins, he stands up and goes to stand in front of her, impressed. "And yes, you were right." He whispers.

Hero smiles.

He slowly raised his hand and caressed her cheek, looking into her eyes. "How would you feel to join me? I could certainly use you on my side." He asks, his tone gentle and soft, his eyes boring into hers.

Hero stares at him, her cheeks heating up but she composes herself.

"The fuck?" Other Hero asks, looking wise eyed. She looks at Hero with a glare.

"Hero...." Leader glares at her, why couldn't she have stayed silent?

"Tempting, but no." Hero backs away, narrowing her pretty eyes at him. "Never in my life."

Supervillain pouts. "I've never been rejected before, hmm, oh well." He shrugs. "Maybe next time," he winks. "I'll see you soon, Hero, along with your dumb team." He smirks.

"Hey, we're right here!" Other Hero 2 snaps.

"Oh," Supervillain breathes. "I know. See you next time, Hero." He smiles.

............

There meeting may have not been ideal but she had certainly caught his eyes, he had been impressed with her from the beginning. He had observed her.

Unlike other Heroes, she didn't judge villains based on what they did. She didn't care if they were a villain or not, she helped them no matter what. And she didn't do it for the glory.

Supervillain looks at her. "I'll leave you too it," he says before turning around and walking out of the room. The door closed behind him.

Hero sighs and looks back at the sky, her eyes flashing with contempt.

Would this be her life now? Living with the city's most dangerous and notorious Supervillain? Being married to him? Why would this even matter?

Would they even care? No, she supposed not. She didn't like him, not that much, but she tolerated him better than the other villains. He might have been dangerous and a killer, but she knew him.

Unlike other villains and supervillains, he had morals. No innocents or children involved. She knew that because she had seen it firsthand, she had kept an eye on him. He was somewhat....good.

That felt weird. Saying he was good.

Hero shakes her head, no, she supposed she wouldn't ever get used to it.

Being married to Supervillain, she guessed would be a nightmare. She swallows hard, she's always hated crying, she thought it made her weak.

Stop crying, it's weak.

Weak people, cry, Hero. Are you weak?

Stop. Crying!

She heard Superhero's voice in her head, along with the familar slash of the whip. She still had the bruises.

It was all her fault. The bruises were all her fault, every failure, every time she failed. Every time she was weak. Perhaps Superhero was right, she had to keep Supervillain happy so he didn't attack the city.

But nothing could stop the Villains. Would Superhero blame her? Would he hurt her again? Would he punish her?

But he couldn't. She would be protected here. But what about everywhere else? Was she still technically a Hero?

Why was all of this so confusing? She shakes her head and decides to sleep on it. After changing of course.

....

The next morning when she gets up and gets ready, she walks down the stairs to see in the living room, Henchmen on the sofa.

He looked busy with paperwork around on the table. She looks around, seeing that the mansion was empty. She spots a few maids cleaning and setting stuff up but no one else.

"Morning." Henchmen tells her with a smile, he grabs hid glass of what wither seemed to he bourbon or whiskey and took a sip.

"Morning." Hero answers tightly, she plays with the short white dress she had on. The sleeves were short and ruffled and the length was just aobe her knees, she wore matching white heels. "Where's Supervillain?" She asks, sitting across from him.

She sees a maid bring out a plate with a croissant and a chocolate chip muffin with a large cup of coffee. "Thank you," she smiles kindly at the maid.

The maid only nods fearfully.

Hero watches her go with a frown, she turns back to Henchmen.

"Supervillain was called on urgent business." Henchmen smiles at her awkwardly. "He left super early in the morning, he'll be back in a week."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Henchmen smiles. "Sorry about that.":

"Why be sorry? It's not like we like each other," Hero shrugs and picks up the muffin.

Henchmen slowly nods, however a frown grows on his face as he watches his boss' wife eat her breakfast. He knew that the two didn't really, well, like each other. I mean, they were enemies of course. On opposite sides.

But that wasn't the case anymore. No, it wasn't. Hero was married to Supervillain now. That meant she was on their side, on his side now. Probably.

That meant that they would have to get along. Henchmen wasn't thinking like romance and stuff, not yet anyway. Maybe get along like friends or something like partners, but they would have to get along.

He wondered what would happen in the future?

Only time could tell.

"What's your favorite flower?" Henchmen all of a sudden asks.

Hero raises an eyebrow.

"What?" Henchmen shrugs. "I'm saying if we're gonna be family and shit like that, we should get to know each other."

Hero stares at him for a few seconds. "Dandelions. I like Dandelions." She smiles. "White is my favorite color."

"Gray is mine,"

"Obviously." Hero snorts.

Bonus points if the villain is the hero's big sibling or similar figure.

"Father wanted to put you in an institution," their sibling said. "There was no way I was going to allow that." They carded their fingers through the hero's hair, soothing, like they were still five years old and waking up from a bad dream. "Those places are awful. They'd hurt you."

"I can't move."

"It's okay. You're okay."

"The - the tea. You." The realisation of it choked off in the hero's throat. Sharp. Catching. Betrayal.

"I told father I'd handle it," their sibling said, almost absently.

"Handle me."

"Yes." Their sibling ducked to gather up the jagged shards of the fallen mug, depositing them on the coffee table. They met the hero's eyes. "Handle you."

The hero glared. They willed their noodled limbs to move, but all they got for their efforts was nearly crumpling to the floor again. Their sibling caught them, steadied them, pushed them back into the chair. The hero's heart thudded wildly beneath their palms.

"He wasn't having it though," their sibling continued. "He told me that you needed to be corrected, by any means necessary. He told me that it was just the place for a crazy person like you. That you'd bring shame on the family." They grimaced. "You know father."

The hero did, unfortunately, know their father.

They also knew their sibling though. They knew they were drugged up in their own living room, not being wrestled into a straight-jacket somewhere for some non-consensual therapy sessions.

"What did you do to him?" it came out raspy.

Their sibling smiled, small and grim. "He should have known better. Just like you should have known better, but you always were a little idiot, so no shockers there."

"...what are you going to do to me?" That was, perhaps, the better question. Their mind still felt sharp, after all, even if nothing in their body wanted to cooperate with them.

"Do you think I'd hurt you?"

"You hurt father."

"Father was a jackass. You're just stupid."

"I'm trying to make the world better!"

"Yeah," their sibling said. "Stupid."

"It's not stupid!"

"I'm not going to debate this with you."

"Just drug my tea!?"

"Eh, that was for your own good. For all his many sins, father wasn't totally wrong. You do need help. A friendly intervention."

"They'll come for me. My friends will come for me."

Their sibling shrugged. "I have no such reservations hurting them."

The hero swallowed. Their mouth still felt dry, sticky and cloyingly sweet. They searched their sibling's face for any sign of a lie. They found none.

"You know what father and his friends are doing is wrong," the hero said after a beat; maybe just frantic to see some glimmer of recognition of that fact.

Their sibling shrugged again, easy. "Sure."

"You could help us fight them. You could come with me. You could...keep me safe. That's what you want, right? To keep me safe."

"Your friends aren't going to kill you. You're perfectly safe like this."

"But what father's friends are doing - don't you - you have to care."

Their sibling raised an eyebrow.

The hero wanted to snarl. As ever, it seemed, their sibling did not have to care about anyone or anything. Who cared about the world if going along with monstrosity was easier?!

"Don't you care that I care?"

"You care about everything," their sibling rolled their eyes. "You held a funeral for the fish."

"He was my pet!"

"He was a fish."

"This is nothing like the fish!"

Their sibling straightened up with a sigh, looking down on them, hands on hips. "I've made my decision."

"Fuck you."

"I don't expect you to be happy about it, but you're gonna deal with it. You're underage. That makes you my responsibility. I'll let you go when this all blows over."

"You mean when father's friends finish wrecking the world?"

"Don't be so overdramatic."

"You drugged me and I'm overdramatic?"

"Overdramatic looks better on me. I have the cheekbones for it."

"This isn't funny!"

"No." Their sibling's voice shifted, abruptly. "It isn't. Do you want me to get serious?"

The hero...paused. The air suddenly felt oppressive.

"I am being very gentle," their sibling said. "And you are infinitely squishy and breakable. Father's institution would have crushed you into teeny tiny pieces, so shattered that you didn't even care anymore. You would kill your friends if they asked, by the time they were done."

The hero swallowed, stricken, horrified.

"Tell me again how unfunny this is," their sibling said. "Like you think I'm stupid."

The hero shook their head.

As swiftly as the storm had come, their sibling offered them a sunny smile. The tension vanished as they booped the hero's nose.

“Darling,” the Queen purred, her black dress flowing delicately down her body, swirling across the ballroom floor as she approached the lone figure. The spy stiffened, press of the knife against her back reminding her why she was here. “I thought I made it clear what I would do if I ever saw you set foot in my kingdom again.”

The music swelled — delicate piano keys and the sweet build-up from the violins. The Queen’s heels stopped in front of her, trapping the spy under her intense gaze. She felt a burning sensation spark in her chest, hands placed behind her back. The Queen smiled, and the spy could only hold her ground, not daring to show any sign of weakness.

“You think your threats scare me?” She challenged, a vile tone lacing her words. A sweet laugh fell from the Queen’s lips, her eyes falling down her figure, before rising back up once again, a tantalizing smirk on her lips. The spy squirmed.

“Ravishing,” she breathed quietly. “You never fail to impress me.”

Figures blurred by them, wrapped up in a mesmerising waltz across the marble floors. The Queen pressed herself ever closer, hand sliding across the spy’s waist and pulling her flush against her body with a gentle grace one might expect a Queen to exhibit.

“May I have this dance, my dear?” The Queen hummed, fingers tangling together with the spy’s. She could feel her heart aching in her chest, but her face displayed no emotion, except a slither of annoyance.

“Do I have a choice?” She hissed.

"You'd think," the villain said. "That with all the hardened criminals they deal with on a day to day basis, your colleagues wouldn't be so afraid to pat down little old me. I mean." The villain widened their eyes. "Look at me. Who wouldn't want to get their hands on all this?"

"You bite."

The villain flashed them a sharp grin, entirely too delighted by the fact that most would not get in a three foot radius. "If I lick it, it's mine. Them's the rules."

The detective sighed, (not really) long-suffering, even as they approached.

The villain was, admittedly, gorgeous. In a slightly feral sort of way. Gorgeous in the way a volcano could be stunning, right before it erupted and burnt down everything you loved.

The precinct waiting room was empty apart from the two of them; promptly abandoned ever since the hero had deposited the beautiful monstrosity on their front door and then left. As if the rest of them mere mortals were equally equipped to deal with super villains. Bastard.

"Besides. I'm cuffed and everything," the villain continued, jingling the chains. "I'm harmless."

"You're the bane of my working life," the detective grumbled without venom. "I'm going to have so much paperwork. This isn't even my job to do this. Stand."

The villain pushed gamely to their feet, stepping close and into the detective's space. The detective had gone through the whole routine - because the villain always escaped - enough times not to flinch.

"You look tired, detective," the villain said, a little softer.

"Bane. Of. My. Working. Life."

"I could bribe someone to do the paperwork for you."

The detective snorted, beginning to thoroughly pat the villain down. They extracted paperclips, and all manner of objects from the villain's pockets - knowing by now where to look in the hidden folds of material, knowing that everything had the potential to be dangerous.

They could feel the villain's eyes on them, intent and burning. They could feel the villain's breath, the heat of them, so close. They could smell the crackle of their power in their air, not entirely offset by the cuffs, only limited. If they shivered, well, it was because of that. A valid reaction to threat. Not...not...

The detective swallowed. "Stop that."

"I'm behaving."

"You look like you're planning to eat me."

"How would you know that? My eyes are up. You're the one feeling me up."

"I'm not-" The detective bit their lip, gaze moving to the villain's.

The villain's eyes were very bright.

"You look like you're planning to eat me," the detective said again, and even managed deadpan.

"Well, we did cover that if I lick it, it's mine, already. Didn't we?"

They were not going to be flustered. They were not going to be flustered. They were not going to be-

The villain, lightning quick, lethally quick, pressed a kiss to the detective's blushing cheek. Exposing the utter uselessness of the denial. "I wouldn't mind," the villain said, against the detective's ear. "If you did. Feel me up. I know you wouldn't mind either."

The detective swallowed again, but it did nothing to make their mouth less dry. They kept their hands very professional. They did not jerk back, or jerk their head away, or admonish the villain.

They told themselves it was because it was only words, and far better than the villain snapping those cuffs like they were nothing, but...

Well. They were lying. It was true, but they were utterly lying to themselves, and they probably both knew it. The villain could no doubt dismantle and reveal that lie as easily as the rest.

The villain's teeth and tongue grazed, feather-light, against the shell of their ear.

If I lick it, it's mine.

"Right." The detective's voice was hoarse. "I think you're all done."

"Mm," the villain said, giving them a look of 'oh not nearly done enough with you, dear', though they let the detective step back.

No. Not let. They were cuffed. The two of them had only ever met when the villain was restrained.

"Let's go," the detective said. "You know how it goes by now."

"Indeed." The villain's head tilted. "You know there's a reason that hero of ours keeps dropping me off at your precinct and nobody else's these days. You know that right?"

The detective froze.

"Just something to think about," the villain said, and sauntered themselves off in the direction of the cells. "Come lock me up."

The detective released a shaky breath, and fovillowed.

Absolutely! Villain x Henchman has got to be one of the best tropes

---

Henchman really needed to get a better work-life balance. She signed up to come to an evil lair, work on evil projects for her evil boss, and then go home at a reasonable hour with some crazy pay.

So why was she answering a phone call from Villain so late at night?

"Come back to the lair. I need a bit of a hand." She had said before hanging up. Henchman should just ignore her. Villain had no right to call her back to work at midnight!

...

So here she was, driving back to the inconspicuous building she and Villain had made their dwelling. She swiped her card at the door, pressed her thumb to the scanner and punched in the ridiculously long code before the door finally opened.

The lights were dimmed when she stepped inside. Villain knew she that the bright florescent lights hurt her eyes when she worked. How thoughtful. At least, that's what she would say if her boss wasn't very un-thoughtfully making her work at this hour.

"Boss?" She called. Henchman checked her usual spots: the office, the lab, even the basement that Villain would throw her captives. Nothing. "She should at least have the decency to meet me."

After many minute of searching, Henchman can across Villain in her personal room, lounging on her bed like it was a woefully difficult thing.

"Oh good. You're here."

"I am." Henchman stepped up to her as Villain lazily turned her head to face her. "What do you need me for?"

"I can't sleep." Villain often had trouble sleeping. Henchman had noticed the growing eye bags weeks ago. She just had the tact not to mention it.

"Do you want me to fashion some new meds? It'll take a bit, but if I work all night, I could-"

"Ugh, you and your exhausting dedication," Villain huffed. She reached out and snagged Henchman's tie, tugging her down to her level. "No, I don't want you to stay cooped up in that wretched lab. I want you with me to help me sleep."

Villain wound Henchman's tie around her wrist to pull her even closer. Henchman let her, climbing into the bed with her.

"Very well." Henchman settled into her usual spot. Villain said that it really helped, so she didn't mind sleeping over a night or two.

Just a little something I think about

If u understand what I'm saying

The Matchmaker

Warnings: Slightly flirty. Soft romance. Mentions of alcohol.

"You are coming with me, Civi, like it or not," Hero claimed earlier that day, when they were still in Hero's apartment as the crime-fighter ransacked her own wardrobe, throwing dresses out onto the floor because there was no place on her bed anymore. "Where is that thing?!" She groaned, in search of something that seemed to be evading her.

Civilian sighed - not angry, just exasperated with her persistent friend. Don't get her wrong, she loved Hero with the entirety of her pure heart, but partying was never her go-to activity on a Friday night. It was reading. Baking. Crocheting. Anything on this Earth except for clubs and dancing. She felt awkward in any remotely public setting, let alone in a club or a bar where people go to socialise. Deliberately. Ugh.

Why would one do that? Civilian couldn't tell you.

"Hero, pleease-" She started with a whiny voice and her best pleading-for-mercy expression, but Hero interrupted her with a definitive no.

"No. No exceptions. It's my birthday, you owe me that much," Hero had insisted, earning a pitiful whimper from Civilian who already knew she could not refuse her best friend - on her birthday, no less. “Today has to be a good day for both of us.”

Hero grinned, satisfied with her victory, but then her eyes landed on the dress she had been looking for, and she emerged from the wardrobe with a victorious yelp. "Aha! Found it. Now, come on, put something decent on."

She aimed the dress at Civilian's head and earned a very improper gesture in response, but laughed it off. Today had to be fun; she didn't care if it took blackmail, manipulation, or outright forcing Civilian out of the comfort of her (or Hero's) apartment.

“Who said I was assessing you?” Villain’s gloved hand came to press down on their chest. “Does that hurt?”

Hero squirmed, but couldn’t help the smile that played on their lips. “You’re literally assessing me right now.”

“Dont I have the right to visit my partner in the hospital?” Villain moved their hand to Hero’s right shoulder. They pressed down. “Does that hurt?”

“A little,” Hero grimaced.

A faux box fan engulfed the room, courtesy of Hero’s iPad that sidekick had brought when they’d first been admitted. The lights were dimmed and curtain closed, and if it hadn’t been for the clock and the patient information whiteboard, Hero would have had no idea what the date or time was. The days had started blurring together after the crash.

Villain hummed, sweeping some of Hero’s hair out of their face. There was a part of Hero that knew this was a vicious attempt to get Hero asleep while also getting to do their own examination of them at the same time. Villainy must have paid the medical pills quite well.

Hero curled their arms around themselves in a pathetic attempt to warm up. “You can’t assess me. Bias and all that.”

When their partner was silent, trading words for pressing down at their sides, Hero allowed their eyes to slip close.

“You don’t trust your nurses? They said they left their findings in my chart.”

“Of course I trust them,” Villain leaned forward to kiss Hero’s temple. “But I think it’s only natural to want another pair of eyes when it’s your partner.”

Hero opened their eyes when Villain’s warmth disappeared. They watched as Villain grabbed a blanket they had left on the bedside chair and draped it over Hero. Hero let themselves lean completely into Villain’s touch as their hand glided down their cheek all the way down to their collarbone, massaging at the collarbone. Villain cooed.

“Oh my baby,” a kiss on Hero’s lips. “I’m gonna make you all better huh.”

They broke for air. “Won’t they know you’re in here stalling?”

“I have my ways, being a doctor is only my day job after all.”

“It’s night.” Hero deadpanned.

“You’re at my mercy. Watch what you say.” Villain pinched Hero’s cheeks together, laughing as Hero tried to swat their hands away.

Villain reached for the tv remote, turning on the Disney channel for some background noise. Colorful puppies danced across the screen, racing to save lives much like their partner did. They watched as Villain took another look at their vitals and glanced at the watch and then the door. A burning pain spread through Hero’s throat. Sleeping was scary. It was scary being alone while unconscious. Alone and unaware and unable to do anything if they started slipping away from their injuries while under sleep’s domain.

It was a risk Hero wasn’t ready to take alone.

A warm hand settled on their Hero’s shoulder, kneading the skin.

“You’re gonna be okay baby. I gotta go check on my other patients,” Villain grabbed their hand. “You’re hooked up to so many machines that will alert me if you need anything at all.”

Tears burned Hero’s eyes.

“It feels like I’m drowning,” they whispered. “I sleep for an hour and then i woke up and I can’t breath, and my throat burns.”

The anxiety was always all consuming when night time came. The true hell that was the accident catching up to the Hero. They swallowed in an attempt to fix the itchiness of their throat.

“I’ll be on the floor most of the night, you’ll always have me.” Villain announced.

Hero nodded, trying to steady their shaky legs.

“I love you,” Villain said, kissing their cheeks.

“I love you, see you tomorrow.”

“Could you come over to my office, love?” The hero nearly choked on air as they heard the villain’s voice on the other side of the door, persuasive and gentle. Involuntarily, they clasped their phone a little too harshly as they tried to conceal their superior’s voice.

“What is going on?” They were already aggravated. In their opinion, the mission was clearly taking longer than it needed to but the hero needed time to figure out the important details.

Important details which weren’t interesting enough to the superhero.

“I gotta go. You can keep listening but I can’t talk right now.”

“Hey, what are you—”

The hero didn’t end the call, they just muted their superior and let them sink back into their pocket. They hurried out of the break room, still a little frustrated. Getting criticised for their work was a little infuriating. It had taken a lot of work to get the villain to even talk to them. Trust was something which only grew slowly.

“Are you alright?” the villain asked softly. “You look a little red in the face.”

They sat on their chair, looking at their desktop.

“I— uhm…I am fine.” The hero gave a small smile in the hopes of convincing the villain this lie was true. “What can I help you with?”

Unfortunately, the villain was attractive. Stupidly attractive. Their eyes pierced through the hero and tugged at their heartstrings, taking everything apart with surgical precision. Whenever the hero messed up (on purpose, for reasons of sabotage), the villain defended them in front of the other villains.

They brought them coffee, even though it was the hero’s job as their assistant. It had been going on like this for the last week and truly, the hero didn’t want this to end. Somehow, the hero felt drawn to them, not only because they were good-looking.

But because they were also their nemesis.

Exciting, in a twisted way.

“Come here.” The villain gave them a once-over and the hero obeyed immediately. As soon as they stood in front of them, the villain got up, so much taller with so much more power in their own building, all of it right in front of the hero.

The pressure was crushing the hero. Not only that, but also the villain just being the villain was intimidating.

“Personally, I think relationships which develop at work are…messy.” The hero blushed. What a way to start a conversation.

“How so?” the hero asked, genuinely curious.

“Most of the time, there’s a power imbalance. I want an equal, not a dog following me around,” the villain said. Again, they looked at the hero and wetted their lips, probably not even aware of it.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I can’t follow,” the hero tried but their heart was beating in their chest harder than ever. It almost hurt.

The villain grinned at that, showing off their perfect set of teeth.

“Work is a nasty thing, isn’t it?”

“I enjoy it, actually—” Suddenly, the villain cornered them, trapping them between themselves and the desk. The hero gasped at the close proximity, at the villain’s arms caging them. They leaned in, slowly and some sort of panic entered the hero’s nervous system. However, they weren’t worried about the danger of being caught. This feeling was something else.

“Darling,” the villain purred, “what a smart hero you are…if I had known sooner, I would’ve devoured you a month ago.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” By now, the hero had to grab the villain’s shoulders to keep their balance and prevent crashing onto the desk. Panic wasn’t part of this anymore.

All the hero could think about was the villain’s body against theirs. Meat to meat.

They gasped anew.

“Oh, please. I would’ve recognised that ass everywhere. But you were good…until you messed up last week.” The villain chuckled tenderly and let their hand fall down to the hero’s lower back.

To stabilise them, the hero realised.

“Not a power imbalance when the two most powerful people in the city are having fun…what do you think?” They dragged their finger down the hero’s throat, over their windpipe, down to their chest. The hero grabbed the villain’s wrist.

“Please…”

“Sensitive?” the villain asked and the hero could only nod in embarrassment. The villain’s smirk only grew.

“You’re adorable. You have always been my favourite.” The hero blushed even more than they already did. “But, my love…end that call, will you? What happens next here, isn’t for your superior’s ears.”

The hero had tried to find some peace for over an hour now, but they couldn’t for the love of it fall asleep. From what they could recall, they had endured a lot of nasty bruises and their ankle didn’t seem to be doing well. Then there was, of course, the hero’s face with a black eye.

Breathing in hurt. Breathing out was even worse.

They opened their eyes and found the villain next to them, sleeping soundly.

Right. The hero was far from home now. Another apartment, another city. It had been a mission stretching over several weeks and they had spent the majority of that time in cheap hotels.

And now they were in the most luxurious apartment, in one of the most expensive beds with probably the richest person ever right next to them.

The hero stared at their enemy. The villain looked younger than usual, way closer to their real age. Their breathing was soft, their mouth slightly agape. The hero figured they’d drool all over their pillows in the morning. Somehow adorable.

Once again the hero turned, this time they tried to lie on their back, shifted several times, used a pillow — it didn’t matter. Exhausted, they stared at the ceiling. They were pretty much useless now. They couldn’t even walk properly.

“So stupid,” the hero whispered.

They wanted to go home.

The villain next to them turned as well and started mumbling in their sleep. The hero looked at them again and the villain was suddenly very close with their arm reaching around the hero’s body and their lips against the hero’s neck.

“Please be careful,” the hero said. Miraculously, the villain didn’t touch any injuries, though.

“Yeah yeah yeah yeah…” the villain mumbled. It was more slurring than speaking. “Y’good?”

“Yeah, can’t sleep, though,” the hero admitted. “Can’t believe you needed to save me. How embarrassing.”

“Mhm.”

“I knew this mission would be…complicated. But…I don’t know. I certainly didn’t expect to end up in your bed.”

“M-hm.”

The hero moved a little which made the villain lean in even more. For whatever reason, the hero smiled softly.

“Still, it’s nice to know that you were looking out for me. What a coincidence that we were here at the same time,” the hero whispered. “Dunno why you saved me. Dunno why we’re in the same bed. I’m sure you have a couch or another bed to spare.”

“Hm.” The villain pressed their forehead against the hero’s neck gently.

“And I certainly don’t know why the hell you’re so clingy.” The hero pulled up their blanket, covering the both of them. “Can’t wait for you to get all embarrassed in the morning.”

“Hmm.”

The hero’s injuries were one thing. Failing was another. Deep down the hero knew that failing was part of every job. That failing was part of life. Sometimes they just wished the price to pay wasn’t this high.

Sometimes they wished human lives weren’t at stake. They sighed.

“I’ll admit,” the hero said. Their voice quivered. “I’m scared. I’m really scared. Nearly dying is really terrifying. But if not me, then who will do this job? I don’t think I was necessarily made for this job. It’s not what I want to do. But I guess, some things we cannot escape entirely.”

This time, the villain was quiet and the hero figured they’d fallen into another stage of sleep.

“So…like I said. It’s nice to know you’re here. Even if I can’t admit that when you’re awake. You make this somewhat bearable.”

Well, they would, if the light wasn't on already in the kitchen.

Hero assumed a fighting stance and tiptoed through the hallway. They spotted a tall figure, black-clad, scrolling on their phone while stiring a cup of tea. Hero dropped their arms, looking up and down with a disgusted expression at the man standing before them. He obviously hadn't noticed them yet.

"Villain?" Hero broke the silence. "What the heck are you doing in my house?"

"Oh, hey Hero." Villain shifted his body to face the younger Hero. He didn't take his eyes off his phone. "Just a sec." He left the spoon to fall against the cup with a clatter and leaned against the counter, texting something. Hero rolled their eyes and folded their arms.

Every single time.

"Alright." Villain pocketed his phone and started drinking his tea. "What do you want?"

Hero spluttered, spreading out their arms. "I'd ask you the same thing! What are you doing here? How did you even get in?"

Villain pointedly stared at his tea and pulled out a ring of keys in turn. Hero sighed.

"Okay, but surely tea is not all you're here for."

"Can't I drop by to see you? Maybe a friendly greeting? See how my kiddo is doing?"

"You can." Hero folded their arms. "You wouldn't, though."

"Yeah, you're right." Villain sipped some more tea and a breath escaped his lips. "Truth is, I've come to warn you of a threat you might not know about." His eyes seemed to harden, and then flash as his grin spread out wide, revealing sharp, white teeth. "Me."

Hero was unfazed. "Stop lying. You haven't been a threat ever since Endgame came out."

"Iron Man didn't have to die. Hollywood needed to know that."

"Whatever."

"Anyway." Villain reached into a side pants pocket and pulled out a few photographs. "This is something Supervillain has been working on. They're going all out with this one. Genetic engineering, biocognitive cybernetic fusion,quantum realignment, ontological refactoring, localized profanity-triggered pyrokinetic dispersion..."

"Okay, okay." Hero held up their hands to shut Villain up. "Which of those is actually real?"

"Only the first two."

"Got it."

Villain chucked the photos onto the kitchen counter, and Hero stepped forward to take a closer look. "Oh my god," Hero exclaimed. Their hands few to their head. "What is that thing?"

"Funny thing," Villain said, picking up one of the photos. "Your mother said those exact words when you were born.

"Yeah?" Hero punched his arm. "She must've been disappointed I got your genes."

Villain chuckled. "She never did like me, that woman."

Hero frowned, taking another photo. "So, what is Supervillain working on, exactly?"

"I forgot what he called it." Villain swapped the photograph for another. "But he didn't like the name 'RC Godzilla.'"

"You talked to him?"

"Not much. He was the one doing all the yapping."

A few beats of silence. Villain downed the rest of his tea. Then Hero said, "Wel?"

"Well what?"

"Well what did he say?"

Villain shrugged. "| wasn't really listening. Tuned out when he started with all the science crap.

"Okay," Hero hummed, snapping their fingers. They caught sight of the pictures scattered on the counter and said, "Then how did you get the photos?"

"Oh, that's easy." Villain lay the picture on the table. "I had my drone with me."

Hero perked up. "Did you get a recording of the conversation?"

"No."

Hero's face and body fell in a slouch. "Did you think to get a recording of th-

"Yes."

Hero ran their hands through their hair, exasperated. "So why didn't you?"

"Storage was full." Villain shrugged. "l accidentally grabbed the micro SD that had an Endgame on it."

Hero swore loudly, slamming their fist on the counter. Villain's eyebrows shot upward. "Woah. Language."

"Sorry," Hero muttered. They took a deep breath in and out to calm to themselves. "I just... I need to know what this is. I need to find a way to stop it. Oh gosh..."

Hero's head fell on the counter with a slight bang, and Villain whinced at the sound. Hero just sat there. With their head on the counter.

Villain stood in silence for a full minute, zoning out. He snapped out of it with a loud "Okay!" and strutted past Hero, clapping their back. "That's my good deed done for the day. Good luck, Hero!"

Hero just groaned, not moving an inch. Only when they heard the front door click open and shut did they raise their head.

Supervillain doesn't like people. He just works with some of them cuz they're mildly useful and he absolutely doesn't want to spend his time with them. Well, bad for him. His team knows he has a birthday and they know he doesn't have anyone else and they baked a cake.

Thank you so much. I love your work, btw.

Haha, INTJ supervillain >:) This is perfect

Thanks Anon!

~~~

The door slid closed behind Supervillain as he flipped the light switch. He sighed, relieved.

Home. He was home at last.

His entire body ached, and he felt mentally exhausted. Working with people for that long without a break did that to his brain.

And he had to endure it every single day.

He headed over to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. Despite it being late and all, he wasn't ready to go to bed. There was work to be done.

Dipping the tea bag in and out a few times, Supervillain walked past the fridge and noticed his calendar. Ah, right. He'd seen that this morning as well.

Tomorrow's his birthday. And if he was born in 1996, and this year was 2025, then he'd be turning...

He'd be turning 29.

He gave a disapproving groan as he took his tea to the living room and set it on the coffee table, opening his laptop instead. Tomorrow wouldn't be any different. It'll pass by like any other torturous day, and...

Oh.

There's a meeting tomorrow.

Supervillain moaned in pain. Should he skip it? Was it worth risking the team's anger and trust?

Probably not.

Supervillain took a sip of his tea and brought the laptop onto his lap. By the time he had finished his tea and decided to go to bed, it was way past midnight.

...

The meeting was being held in a torturous place.

A room full of people.

Supervillain stepped into the room with a scowl on his face. The Red Bull he'd downed on the way was doing miracles for his mood and sleep deprivation.

It didn't do anything for his ability to work with morons.

To their credit, not everyone in the group was a moron. Some were a little smarter, Leader was actually really intelligent, and all the rest were downright idiots.

Nevertheless, Supervillain pitched into the meeting whenever he felt fit, presenting genius ideas for the next move of the team. He had to admit, the smartest thing the rest of the team as a collective did was at least listen to him when he spoke.

Finally, the meeting concluded. Just as Supervillain was finishing packing up his belongings, Leader spoke up, "And I'll be expecting you all at our storehouse next to the docks in preparation for our next plan at 6 pm sharp." Leader locked eyes with Supervillain, and the corner of their mouth quirked upward. "Don't be late."

Supervillain turned back to his bag, gritting his teeth, and left the room first. Everyone else stayed behind to chat, or whatever they do after meetings.

6 pm. Supervillain only had a few hours to gather his bearings before he had to leave again. And the docks were so far away as well. Whatever Leader was thinking, it wasn't funny.

The hours passed much faster than they had to, and Supervillain speed-walked through the maze of shipping containers toward the storehouse. He finished off another can of Red Bull as he approached the doors, and slid them open.

Everyone was already inside. "Surprise!" They shouted.

Supervillain's mind had to catch up with the scene. The room was decorated in... bright colors. Streamers, balloons, and other garbage took up the space, and Villain was carrying a big, fricking cake.

And by the look of the cake, they must've baked it themselves. Supervillain cringed and muttered, "What the hell is this?"

"Well, obviously, since you so kindly bothered to tell us," Leader slammed the sliding door behind Supervillain, making them jump, before slinging an arm over his shoulders, "we made you a surprise party. You're welcome."

Supervillain pinched the bridge of his nose. "Leader, please," he sighed. "I'm really not--"

Villain swore loudly, catching everyone else's attention. "Hurry it up already, this damn thing is heavy!"

"I'm not in the mood," Supervillain finished, glaring at Villain, who almost dropped the cake. "Thanks, but," he threw Leader's arm off his shoulders, "no thanks."

Supervillain turned back to the door, but Leader blocked it with an arm. "Alright, Supervillain, what's wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong with me at the moment," Supervillain balled his fists, "but if you don't move in two seconds, there'll be something wrong... with your face."

A chorus of oohs overtook the back of the room, and Leader bit their bottom lip to supress a chuckle. "Fiesty, are we? Are you tired?"

"Y-yes! That's it, I'm just tired."

"You just drank a whole can of Red Bull."

Supervillain looked at the empty can in his hand, and Leader folded their arms. "Come on, just for half an hour, and then you can go home and mope around in your underwear or something."

Supervillain sighed, and let Leader lead them to the back of the room. The cheers that erupted only deepened his scowl, and the group gathered around to sing him "Happy Birthday". Supervillain wished he could die right then and there.

Afterwards, Other Supervillain cut the cake, which tasted surprisingly better than it looked. Everyone else started chatting over cake, and Supervillain was content to just stand to the side and listen.

Overall, it wasn't too bad, though Supervillain would never admit to anything more.

True to his word, Supervillain left after exactly thirty minutes. He waved goodbye to the rest of them and left.

The first to leave.

It didn't matter. He'd see these humans again tomorrow, and this time, it'll be back to work.

The last pieces of the puzzle fit together perfectly when the villain gave them the second hickey.

Though the civilian didn’t, they really didn’t want to, they pulled away. It didn’t change anything about how the villain looked at them. Their hands were just as quick to slip under the civilian’s shirt, their touch featherlight and loving.

“No, please stop.” The villain pulled away almost immediately, inspecting the civilian as if they were something fragile which could break just by looking at it.

“Are you not feeling well?”

“No, I don’t.” The civilian stood up from the couch, biting back the tears. This was worse than they had imagined.

They had found the first piece of evidence a week ago and ever since, home didn’t quite feel like home anymore. First, they had noticed how the villain would smell a little singed from time to time. Then, their periodical disappearing at night was more obvious to the civilian. At the end, the civilian had found the suit.

“Did I do something wrong, sunshine?” the villain asked, now getting up, too.

The civilian knew little about the heroes and villains of the city. Why should they engage in such stupidity? Why should they praise the people who caused them to pay for yet another insurance company in case their car got destroyed by the fighting?

Maybe if they had been interested in such things, they would’ve noticed right away.

“Did I hurt you somehow?” the villain asked. They seemed worried, distressed even. But the civilian knew, they knew so well that this could’ve been an act, too. Of course, the civilian understood why the villain hadn’t said anything about this. No one would casually mention they were able to kill someone in 78 different ways on the first date.

It was a shame, really, how the civilian hadn’t noticed sooner. This was the problem and this was terrifying. Obviously, it was possible that the villain had also lied about their past, their family — for all the civilian knew, everyone in connection to the villain could be a stranger who was forced to work for them.

“Did I hurt you, sunshine?” the villain repeated.

“Not yet.”

There was a pause.

And the civilian knew they had said enough for the villain to understand the implication.

The silence gave enough room to hear the civilian’s heart shatter into a million pieces. They had loved the villain unconditionally. But they couldn’t continue to do so when they had to expect to get stabbed and never wake up when they went to bed with them.

“You will have to kill me to protect yourself, right?” It was even worse to watch the villain’s shoulders slump.

“What? Sunshine, no. No, I would never do that. I could never,” the villain answered, taking a step forward, their arms stretched out as if to embrace the civilian. But they pulled back when the civilian flinched. Their face was crestfallen, making the civilian almost believe the villain meant it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I would lie if I told you I had been searching for a way to tell you. I knew you would catch wind of it eventually, you are clever after all. But, sunshine, I swear I will never hurt you. And neither will I let anyone else ever harm you.”

The civilian sniffled, the closest to tears they had ever been in the whole relationship. Why was the villain’s voice breaking?

“Sunshine, please. I never lied about anything regarding my feelings for you. I love you. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone.”

“I just thought you would have to get rid off me.” As always when the villain sensed perturbation in the civilian’s voice, they cupped their cheeks slowly. The civilian didn’t pull away this time.