#hxv

“Villain.. don’t do this! Cmon, man, can’t we be civil?”

“Civil??” Villain scoffed, eyebrows raised in disbelief, “Oh you have got to be kidding me!” The slight smirk that tugged at their lips vanished just as quick as it appeared as they take another step forward, causing the hero to step back.

“You lost the the privelage of civil when you killed my Sidekick.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, I never killed si-“

Hero was quickly cut off as Villain’s gun fired, a bullet whizzing past their face and through the wall right by them.

Halfway through the hour, the hero felt their legs go numb. The vampire, straddling their waist, one hand locking their wrists in place, the other in their hair, felt it too: up until now, the hero had struggled valiantly against the vampire's hold, kicking and thumping whatever they could touch. Now, their legs lay limp against the sheets.

The vampire pulled back, but didn't release their hold. "You okay?"

The hero's face had turned impossibly red, skin gleaming with sweat. They took quick, deep breaths before answering, still panting from exertion: "Yeah, I—It's nothing. Training earlier was—" They blew out a breath. "—brutal. My legs are just tired, I guess."

"We can stop, or do this another way."

The hero shook their head. "Let's continue."

"Are you sure? Your heart is beating really fast."

The hero huffed. It wasn't the first time they were annoyed at the vampire's abilities, but it never got less frustrating, especially at times like these.

"That's what tends to happen after exercise, yes."

"Exercise," the vampire repeated, amused. They rolled their hips, and the hero groaned.

"Whatever. Will you just continue now?"

"Hmm." The vampire hummed considerably. "That's some passive language, you know."

"Oh, shut up—" The hero groaned.

"Making me do all the work." They pouted, an expression the hero had found scary when they'd first met, but one which now elicited an altogether different reaction. They tightened their legs without thinking.

The vampire grinned, and kept them apart with that herculean strength. The hero aimed a kick at their face as they leaned in, and the creature caught it easily, hooking the leg above their shoulder. They hooked their chin up the hero's ankle.

"I've been trying all night to get you to ask for what you want—"

"Shut up, you know very well what I want because, up until a second ago, you were giving it to me!"

Their partner kissed their knee, and the hero shivered. "Well, maybe I need a reminder."

The hero groaned, and tried to gather their patience. This was just another one of the vampire's games. Just a few words, and they'd get what they wanted.

"I..." The hero started. "I want to have sex with you. You make me feel safe, and... God, it's just been such a long day, but here." They sent them a tired smile. Energy was pooling back into their body. "Here I feel like I can breathe again."

The vampire touched their brow, swiped a stray hair out of their eyes. They kissed them, soft and sweet. The hero was surprised at the gesture, but took advantage of the loosened grip to push them back and straddle them instead. The creature let out a surprised yelp as they found their positions suddenly reversed. The hero locked a manacle around the vampire's wrists, which suppressed their superpower.

Their eyes were wide, and begging as they spoke. “Help me.”

Villain’s lip twitched into a smirk. “Say it again.”

The hero shivered, their voice breaking.

“Help me.”

“One more time.”

prompt by @avvail :>

—

Shame burned acridly in the hero's throat. They were stained with blood and dirt and soot. Gravel was embedded in their cuts. Their body was bruised and beaten and aching.

It frustrated the hero to no end, that before they’d come to the villain’s doorstep, the villain had probably thought that the hero was dead, and instead of seeming relieved that they were alive they were forcing them to beg. 

Still.

"Help me." They willed the villain not to hear it.

The villain's smirk burst into a cruel grin. Their gloved hand snaked out and landed on their throat, squeezing, like they were going to choke the hero. They glanced at the small sliver of skin that the glove exposed at their wrist, the thin, raised line following the green of their vein. 

The villain was out of their suit, since the hero hadn’t been expected. They doubted the villain was relieved that their biggest problem had shown up to their doorstep completely fine and only a little roughed up.

The villain's thumb grazed the bump of their voice box, pressing down just slightly.

It took everything in the hero not to move. The muscles in their arms flexed. Their fists stayed clutched at their sides.

Slowly, the villain stroked the dips along the line of the hero's collarbone, then went up their throat. The hero bared it for them, because they knew the villain would like it.

A dimple appeared on the villain's cheek. Their eyes crinkled. They looked wolfish. "So good," they said, then curled their hand around to take them by the back of their neck. "So tame. Oh, I could just eat you up."

The hero's breath hitched and they knew the villain caught it. They chuckled. Humiliation bubbled inside them.

"This concerns you, too," said the hero, and right after they said it the villain's hand squeezed harder. They dropped the grin, shushed them gently, as though they were looking to soothe.

"I know, doll." The grin came on again, delighted. Similar to the look a thief got, looking at a vulnerable person walking down a deserted street. Eager to take. Twitching to take, to grab at any open seam.

The news was on every single channel there was, the hero was sure. They estimated ninety per cent of the city's heroes had been pronounced dead in the last ten hours

The villain continued. "I know. It must seem completely out of character, doll, but I did expect your little superhero to turn rogue eventually. I kept tabs. Noted every little tick."

The hero's breath hitched again, a harsher sound this time, wanting to rage. They kept themselves from asking—why didn't you let me know? But they shouldn't have expected any magnanimity from the villain. As for expecting the attack...

It still hadn't entirely registered in their head, they didn't think. They didn't believe the superhero was straight up evil. But they definitely weren't in their right mind, either. They were off the rocks. Wrong.

Today had started off like any other day. Everyone had gathered in the common room, chattering. The superhero had walked in, looked around once, and just... razed the whole place down.

"They're being controlled." It was the best explanation that the hero could give.

"Or maybe they've just realised the good side isn't all that good. Maybe they'll come for you next."

The hero's spine straightened. "Maybe they'll come for you first. You didn't see them firsthand. They went on a rampage." They'd torn the head off an innocent worker in the building, haloed by the fire, and stared straight at the hero. Feral. Rabid. Angry? Mad? Looking to take something the world had taken from them? The hero no longer knew. It all turned into one moment and the next.

A gloved hand made its way to their soot-stained hair. The villain peeled strands of sweaty hair away from the hero's forehead with their other hand.

With no answer from the villain, the hero grew twitchy. They rubbed the pads of their fingers raw. Dug crescent moons into their palm.

"You're smart," the hero tried eventually, reaching for something that would give in the villain. "Clever, strong."

"Dubious, greedy. Oh, and don't forget evil."

"Help me stop them." The hero's bare hand cupped the villain's own, gloved, tangled in their hair. They leaned forward. "If not to help me then for your safety."

“So sweet.”

“You know a rogue, indestructible hero will doom the city. You must’ve seen the news? The wrecked blocks?” The hero’s fingers slipped down to the scar on their wrist, fingertips slipping beneath their sleeve. The villain’s eyes flashed dangerously, but they pressed on. “I know what they’ve done to you—”

The villain's grip tightened on the hero's hair, forcing them to bare their throat. Their smile went mirthless and dangerous. The hero left their hands, kept them hanging harmlessly beside their head. "Quiet."

"I'm just saying."

The villain's voice dipped low, down to a delicate whisper, far away from that wolfish grin. "I know, doll, you're just saying. But you don't know me that way, do you?" Their free hand went to roam the hero's side. Their wrist flicked, and the cool edge of one of the villain's many knives pressed to their side. The hero's fists turned white-knuckled. "Do you?"

"No."

"Good." The knife disappeared. The villain pushed the hero's head away. "I miss when you were helpless. Tell me that again. Tell me what you need from me."

The hero steeled their jaw. They wiped dirt and soot from their cheek and didn't look at the villain.

"Tell me," the villain repeated. "Ask for it."

"Help me."

"Nicely."

"Please help me."

"Good." The villain grinned again. It wasn’t the same. "You'll do a job for me before I help you."

The hero went to protest. The villain's hand snaked out again, pressing a thumb to their lips, the side of their index finger cradling their chin. The scar on their wrist flashed in the low light. "I know, doll. I know. Smart, clever, strong. But evil."

The villain drank up every emotion that flitted past the hero. The hesitation. The consideration. The reluctance. The capitulation.

"I'll do it, and then you'll help. To stop superhero."

This is a gift for @snowshowerwriting, an awesome friend and writer! I’m glad I got your prompt this year, and since this is my first time posting writing on tumblr I’m pretty excited to see how it turns out. Hope you enjoy!

content warning; implied depression, injury, reference and mild descriptions of nerve damage (hands) (i swear this is hurt/comfort we just have to get past the hurt)

Surely three weeks was enough time for Hero to recover after their last fight - wasn’t it? Villain couldn’t say they knew much about medical stuff aside from how to patch themselves up after a scuffle, but they assumed Hero would’ve at least made an appearance by now. Although, their hands did look pretty messed up after being crushed under falling debris... Falling debris that Villain had knocked loose, and that Hero had pushed Villain away from at the risk of his own life. Uncomfortably guilty about the whole situation, Villain had even held off on any major crimes while they waited for their nemesis to heal. Now, though, as they stood outside the recently robbed bank, there was no sign that Hero was coming to stop them.

“Seriously?” Villain shouted at nobody in particular, causing the crowds of terrified onlookers to flinch back. “Is no one even gonna try and stop me? Do I just get to take all this money without a fight?”

“Sorry I’m late,” said a voice from behind Villain, and they turned to see Other Hero, one of Hero’s colleagues, nimbly leap to the ground. She twirled an elegant blade between her fingers.

“What are you doing here?” Villain asked, raising an eyebrow. Normally Other Hero was busy breaking up gang fights or busting shady underground markets, not dealing with high profile criminals. “Where’s Hero?”

“You didn’t hear?” Other Hero snorted, stalking closer. “Boss says we can’t have traitors on our team - Hero almost died to save you, so… y’know. We had to kick him off the squad. I guess you’re happy about that, considering you’ve got one less threat to deal with. Not like he’d be useful to us now anyway, not with those fucked up hands.”

“Shit,” Villain whispered, dropping the bag of money in their hands. Wasn’t that what they’d always wanted? To have their nemesis out of the way? No… not like this. Villain was supposed to take over and sit on a throne while everyone kneeled at his feet, not shove the only tolerable hero on the force to the sidelines. Before they had any more time to think, Other Hero advanced. They dodged her strike and jumped back, summoning a swirl of icicles in their hand. Incensed by his own folly and Other Hero’s sadistic smirk alike, they struck.

-

The thing is, Villain had discovered Hero’s civilian identity a while ago. It was purely by accident, after they’d recognised him entering his apartment while on a little looting spree a while back. They hadn’t felt the need to bring it up, nor did they feel like playing dirty. If it were any other hero, Villain probably wouldnt hesitate - but they wanted a fair fight with Hero. They wanted to share an adrenaline rush with him as they both stood on even ground, powers crashing together in terrific bursts of energy.

Now, though, as Villain slipped through the window in the late afternoon, they couldn’t care less about keeping their discovery a secret. They had to see Hero - he would certainly be down in the dumps after losing his job and suffering what was without doubt a painful injury.

“What are you doing here?” Hero’s voice asked from the dark, and Villain cursed themselves for not checking if Hero was in his bedroom before using it to sneak in. “You need to go, I- we can’t fight anymore. I don’t work for them.” As he spoke, Villain realised just how hoarse and shaky Hero’s voice sounded. He turned on the lamp and looked at Villain with tired, searching eyes.

“I’m not here to fight,” Villain said quietly, “I came to apologise. You know, about your job. That was really my fault.”

“Oh,” Hero replied, glancing away. He got out from under the covers and trudged across the room, motioning for Villain to follow. “I’m not all that hung up on the job.” As he walked, his clenched fists were shaking violently. Was he angry? No, wait - Other Hero had mentioned his ‘fucked up hands,’ maybe they were jittery from the injury. That seemed to be the case when Hero reached up to flick on the light, fumbling with the switch for a few moments. He crossed the living room, Villain following cautiously behind.

If they were in Hero’s apartment under any normal circumstances, they’d probably be teasing them to hell and back about how it was small and messy - more like cute and cozy, but they wouldn’t admit that - but today they fought the urge. Something was very wrong.

“Here,” Hero said flatly, sitting on a black stool in front of an elegant upright piano. It was probably the most expensive thing in the room. “Between fights, after a bad day, when I was overwhelmed… I played. I’ve been taking lessons for ten years now, and I bought this piano after saving up for ages.” His face brightened a little as he spoke, and Villain felt their chest buzz with warmth until Hero looked at them, eyes wet and hands trembling as he gripped the piano lid.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he whispered, a shake in his voice, and Villain’s heart sank. “I don’t care about my job, I- I’m not even mad at you, and I don’t re- regret saving you, not for a moment!” He stood up, clasping his hands together, desperately trying to still them. “But I… I can’t do this. I can’t write, or type without having to redo every word a dozen times, and I can’t play anymore. I can’t distract myself from the fucking mess my life is right now.”

Wordlessly, guilt swelling in their chest, Villain moved to sit on the stool beside him and opened up the piano.

“I don’t remember much,” they said softly, “But I used to play a little too.” They guided Hero to place his unsteady hands on the keys and rested their own on top. Buried deep in Villain’s muscle memory was a classical piece they’d learned years ago, back when life was simpler and they didn’t have to fight and steal to survive. Back when they didn’t have ‘allies’ and ‘enemies’, when they didn’t have to pretend the one person they looked forward to seeing each day was their nemesis in a bitter rivalry.

Pushing those yearning thoughts away, they looked at Hero for permission. He nodded, still looking at the keys, and Villain tried to remember the piece. The muscle memory was still with them, and for that they were thankful, but they’d never exactly had to play it with an extra pair of hands under their own. Though the sweet melody occasionally peeked through, the song was mostly a jumble of wrong notes and fumbled chords. Villain tensed, worried that their attempts to be cute and comforting had only made things worse. To their surprise, though, Hero turned his hands over and laced them with Villain’s, which put them in what was without a doubt an awkward position, but Villain felt a pleasant flutter in their stomach.

“That was awful,” Hero remarked, but he was smiling. Smiling, so softly and knowingly in a way only he could. “But it… it helped, I think.” Villain averted their eyes as if it’d help hide the embarrassingly obvious blush on their face. As they looked across the room, it dawned on them just how cluttered and dark the apartment really was.

“Have you been sitting alone in your apartment all this time?” they asked, and Hero’s smile dropped a little.

“I don’t have anyone to visit, much less anyone who’ll visit me,” he replied, and now it was his turn to sheepishly glance away. “Not since the team labeled me a traitor.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Villain said. At Hero’s hesitant nod, they continued, “And, since you’re already apparently a traitor to those ‘heroes,’ it’s not like we have to pretend to hate each other anymore.” They offered a mischievous grin, which Hero weakly returned.

“Would you mind, then, um… would you mind sticking around for a while?” He asked before Villain could make the offer. All they could do was nod, slowly untangling their hands and putting an arm around Hero’s shoulders. He rested his head in the crook of Villain’s neck and let out a slow sigh, hands shaking again as he placed them in his lap.

“Thank you for saving me back there, by the way. I-I’m sorry you got hurt in the process. I wish I could go back and… Hell, maybe I’d stop you from doing it.” Villain whispered, anxious and guilty at the thought but elated by their close contact in equal measure. Hero simply shifted in a little closer, and Villain could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

(tw: public execution mention, hanging referenced, talk of death and grieving)

[Drabble Masterpost]

“I never took you for the gloating type.” Villain’s voice bounced flat off the empty walls before Hero was even in sight.

They drew a deep breath, sighing it out. Rounding the corner, they found Villain calmly pacing their cell. Eyes on the lone window that looked out to what would be their gallows once it was complete.

They were hinging the trapdoor now. It wouldn’t be long.

“That’s because I’m not.” Hero leaned against the bars, eyes roaming over Villain. 

Villain scoffed a soft laugh, eyes flicking to Hero. “You’re making an exception for little old me? Sweet Hero, I’m flattered.” They didn’t sound flattered. They sounded tired.

Back to pacing. 

Hero is a stoic, reserved and cold kind of person. Whilst Villain is a flirty, seductive and observant person.

Like when they were fighting at their usual battleground, Villain can't get enough of flirting with their attractive hero. Villain said something that made Hero blush and stutter and Villain just finds it cute and teases them about it.

Fluff supremacy obvii 🙄💅🏼💅🏼🛐

And here, 🍳🥓🥛 bacon eggs and milk and a personal chef 🧑‍🍳 have a lovely day, take care and stay safe ‼️✨

cw. suggestive af

“Oh? Isn’t it obvious that I want you to tie me up and do me in bed?” the villain said so flippantly, their eyes curling up like a crescent moon; hoping it could at least make the hero’s haughty demeanor move. And it did. It moved their nemesis’ entire body so badly, they saw how the hero’s shoulder flinched, and their cheeks reddened out of the blue. They could see it despite the hero not facing them. 

A smirk formed on their lips, so this is how the so-called stoic hero reacts when the villain acts shamelessly. The villain crossed their arms, placing their hand on their cheeks; watching the hero’s rigid and stupefied reaction from their words. How many centuries have they tried to make the villain blush, but all they got was a scowl or an icy glare? If they knew the hero wanted to push them in the bed, then they would’ve probably done it a million years ago. Daily.

“Hero, don’t tell me,” the villain paused, acting surprised and betrayed and dramatically putting their palm on their mouth.

“It's not what you think-“ the hero began to explain, but another flirtatious remark from the villain interrupted their explanation.

“You think of me in that kind of way?” they emphasized the kind of way with how they bat their lashes to create a tremendous impact on the hero’s internal struggle. And they successfully did, without batting an eye. The icy scowl is replaced with a blank look with reddened cheeks. They look drunk rather than embarrassed. The villain’s grin became wider, their eyes scrutinizing every effect of their words at the hero. How adorable.

The hero blinked away from their drunken stupor, preparing another explanation to save their face and weakness from the villain. But the villain, as always, didn’t let the hero do it as they stepped forward to be one step away from the hero’s lips. A sweetly one step closer for their lips to touch, but the villain inclined their face on the side; not giving a chance for the hero to capture their lips and eat them whole.

There’ll be no fun if they do that. Because the way the hero's breath hitch as their lips drew close and how their heart beats fast near the villain is entertaining. They want the hero to wonder and hold themselves back until they cannot do it anymore; teasing them until they can’t get enough of this sweet torture from the villain. Just thinking about it is enough to the villain’s adrenaline surge inside their veins, licking their lips in amusement.

“Villain,” the hero said through gritted teeth, their nails digging deep into the flesh of their palms. “What are you trying to do?” 

“Oh?” the villain said through their innocent eyes, but their hands wandered on the hero’s shoulder to their neck, then finally their cheeks. The hero grabbed their wrists, eyes darkening as their precious secret gradually comes free from their repression. The villain is playing such a treacherous game with no way out, but here they are; playing until they find out the ending.

“Don't try,” the hero hissed, danger looming in their voice.

“Instead of saying that,” the villain cocked their head, voice full of challenge, “Say, try me.”

That is all what it takes for the hero to capture the villain’s lips.

__________________

I gotta know what you go with

Angst? Fluff?? Neither??? Nothing at all????

Omg hi my loveee 😊 you know I can’t resist angst. Fluff can’t come without some hurttt 🫢🥰 I had fun with this one, I haven’t wrote a snippet in awhile but this definitely gave me some inspiration like omg. But anyways I hope you enjoy 💞

Red Dandelions

Tw: Angst, blood, injury, and cleaning and sewing (so also needle tw) of said injury

And just to preface, most hero and villain fics I write uses they/them pronouns, but since it is a self-insert piece, the pronouns used here are she/her.