Supervillain X Assistant - Tumblr Posts

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I love it when a villain's behavior starts to soften cutely in their intimidating look.

I love the prompt, the characters, and the aggressive kissing. Like danm assistant you can give a straight answer, but ain't it so entertaining for us.

Ok, so since my first response to this post kinda went its own direction, I decided to give this prompt a second try. The prompt is originally by @gingerly-writing (I will write it in purple to separate it from the rest of the text).

"Oh," said the supervillain. Quietly. Too quietly. "I see. Kissing me was just a distraction."

"No! Well, yes, but...it's not like that!"

"Oh? So explain how it is. Quickly."

"Well...you see..." The supervillain's assistant fumbled for the right words. Which proved rather difficult when there seemed to be no right words to come by. How did one even begin to explain this dangerous, messy, swell of feeling expanding in their chest right now? A feeling that they still weren't sure should be encouraged or stamped out.

They'd never thought so much of themselves to imagine a relationship with the city's greatest criminal. They had been perfectly content standing on the sidelines, taking notes and fetching coffee with cream. They probably would have kept doing such, an important but unnoticed cog that kept their superior's life going smoothly. That is if it weren't for their stupid, idiot, ditz of a brother.

Their sibling had never been the brightest, sacrificing their own needs for others and putting silly morals ahead of good sense. Unlike the protagonist, who knew when to bluff and when to sell out, their brother was always so desperate to be right. As if there was even a true right in this crooked world.

And of course, they just had to go into hero work. Just had to go up against their boss of all people and put the protagonist's neck on the line. It wasn't like they were going to let the supervillain see them. Thinking back, there were probably a thousand less compromising things the assistant could have done for a distraction. Maybe that was a sign they'd been interested long before that messy, tooth-clashing first kiss. Could they sell that to the supervillain?

"Well...I did enjoy it."

The supervillain sighed, raising a crooked finger to the ever-present guards against the back wall.

"W-wait!" the protagonist cried. "I lied one time! One! As if you've never done the same!"

"My lies usually don't include so much tongue."

Their assistant blushed. "I was going for alluring. If it helps, the second kiss was more my style."

A sweet, soft thing that tasted of vanilla creamer, so much sweeter because it was alone and after hours. A coffee order that usually wouldn't have happened if the supervillain hadn't been intent on getting them on their own.

"A half-truth meant to appease me," the supervillain said with bitter-tipped nonchalance.

Maybe. The protagonist had walked into that trap willingly to keep up the pretenses of the first kiss, but they'd never planned any further than that. They certainly hadn't planned on the supervillain's clumsy small talk, or the way they held them so gently. Criminal overlords weren't supposed to be like that, were they? They were supposed to beat nobodies like them senseless for their audacity. Or use them up until they were a hollowed husk of their old self. They weren't supposed to be...cute.

"But still true," the protagonist argued. "I didn't know you would actually start to like me."

Not just cute. Soft. It was apparent within the first month that they were far more vulnerable then their villainous persona let on. 

Were they hurting a lot right now? Did the protagonist actually mean that much to them? Or was it simply the humiliation of having an employee play their feelings so effortlessly for an advantage? Had to be hard to face up to with the entire organization staring at them. They'd probably have to deal their assistant an especially hard hand to patch all the open wounds in their reputation.

"I was just trying to save someone close to me," the protagonist said, not certain whether the explanation made the situation any better. "After that, I was just trying to survive.''

"The hero."

Ah, so they did know. Probably shouldn't be a surprise seeing how they'd come to the truth in some way or another. The tone was a little strange though. They weren't quite certain whether it was jealousy or general disdain.

"How--"

"Security cameras," Supervillain said coldly. "You might have kept me from seeing them with my own eyes, but you didn't keep them off film. I didn't notice for a while; I was...otherwise diverted, but yesterday... But perhaps that was your plan all along."

The assistant couldn't hold back their scoff. "You really think I'm the type of person who can cling onto someone for literal months to hide a little recording?"

"Well, I think we've established that we don't really know each other. Apparently, you think I'm the type of person who wouldn't have taken a simple, 'I'm not interested' for an answer. You could have done it right at the start. You still would have been caught, but you would have benefited from me not feeling like this."

"How do you feel?"

Stupid. Stupid. Was that really important when the protagonist was simply trying to walk out of here alive? Why should they even care? Like the supervillain said, it wasn't like any of it was real enough to stake feelings on anyway.

They felt the the two suited security guards hovering at their back, looming and dicomfortingly close. They had paused uncertainly as the back-and-forth got started, maybe not quite sure if the signal to take the assistant away still stood. Now, finally, the supervillain gave them an unquestionably clear order.

"Go." Their voice dripped with a venom not intended for them. "I'll call if I need you."

The guards seemed almost relieved to comply, letting out held breaths and moving quickly but crisply toward the exit. 

For some reason, as the door clacked gently shut behind them, the assistant felt more nervous. Especially with the criminal's eyes burning into them like hot coals.

“You want to know how I feel?” the supervillain said.

The protagonist shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me…”

"I'm angry.”

"Understandable." The assistant flinched back a step from the furvor, though it proved pointless as the supervillain mirrored their retreat with a stalking step forward.

"And confused." 

"Of course."

"I want to tear my heart out of my chest. And yours."

The assistant blinked. That was...a reaction.

They tried shoving down some the sharp regret stabbing up through lungs, making it suddenly painful and hard to breath. So the supervillain had liked them that much. That was sort of a shame. Under other circumstances perhaps...well, it didn't matter now. They'd messed it all up. Actually, they hadn’t even really began. So they really shouldn’tbe worrying about the supervillain, they should just be worrying about themself.

"I don't know if I'm worth all that. We could just end this like two mature adults, starting with you letting me out of the building."

The supervillain narrowed their eyes. "You still haven't said it."

"What?" 

"I don't know why I expected any different. You always give me everything but a clear answer."

"I wasn't aware you asked me a question?" the assistant said, glancing over their shoulder and estimating just how quickly they could make a run for the door. 

The supervillain stepped forward, bringing their shiny black Derbys toe to toe with the assistant's ragged loafers. Nimble fingers took them by the chin, turning their face from escape to their burning carbon eyes. "Do you like me or not?"

The assistant could only stare.

"You say it was just one lie, and the way you talk doesn't close any doors, but then there's your hero and the infuriating fact that you can't come up with an ardent, overdramatic speech to salvage the relationship. I can't figure you out. Do you want out or not?"

"Wait..." the assistant held up their hands in front of them. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you not trying to kill me?"

The supervillain spluttered incredulously. "Kill you?"

"What?" the assistant cried, thoroughly confused by this point. What were the security guards and the ominous call to their office in the middle of the workday if it wasn't their life on the line?

"We kissed! I still have feelings for you! I can't kill you now. Maybe later up the road, but not anytime soon."

"You’re throwing me in secret prison then?"

"I'm only firing you."

"Oh." The protagonist took that in for a moment. "I suppose that's fair."

"Yes. The question that remains is do we continue seeing each other after I fire you? So please be explicitly clear. You like me. Yes or no?"

The protagonist hesitated, wetting their lips a moment before hesitantly wrapping their arm's around the supervillain's neck. "I thought that much was obvious."

"Clearer."

The protagonist pressed their lips softly to the supervillain's mouth.

"Clearer," the supervillain murmured, breath tickling sweet against their lips.

"I like you an extremely dangerous amount. To a point I'm afraid to say out loud. If you never say it, it never happened, right?"

The supervillain sighed. "You're the most infuriating, noncommittal... Your hero?"

"My brother."

"Your..." A burst of spontaneous laughter escaped the master criminal's previously tight lips. "I think that's the best news I've heard all day. Well, aside from that first bit."

Their hands settled warm and familiar against the small of the assistant's back, holding them firmly, yet carefully in place. 

Was it really over that fast? Could ugly, terrifying things like this actually happen and turn out ok? Hero would probably say yes. They believed in forgiveness and conquering love and all that nonsense. That wasn't what the protagonist chose when they joined this side. They chose cold, hard truth.

They pressed their palms against the supervillain's shoulders, pushing slightly back from them. "I hurt you."

It wasn't a real question, but nevertheless, the supervillain seemed to understand.

"And I'm still mad. Doesn't mean I can't enjoy the moment." Their smile faltered and their voice quieted again. "You...are telling the truth, right? Honestly?"

The protagonist's insides twisted uncomfortably, a mixture of guilt and aversion to such unfamiliar openness.

"Yes."

The supervillain nodded, enfolding them back in their arms. "I might check in with you every once in a while. Just to be sure.” 

“Yeah,” they agreed, still dazed. They pressed their face into the criminal’s shirt, breathing in the scent of fresh linen to assure themselves this was all real. “You’re really letting this go? How can you do that? How are you ever going to trust me again?”

Supervillain kissed the top of their head, a little more aggressively than normal, but still probably kinder than they deserved. “With time.”

Maybe in time they could learn to trust too.

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