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#villain x civilian prompts

promptspa · 2 years

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Random prompt #85

"Why can't I help?" Civilian huffed, crossing their arms as they tried to move into a more intimidating stance.

"Because I can't let you get hurt," Villain stated with no room for argument in their tone, moving to cup their partner's face and press a kiss on their forehead.

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some-messed-up-writing-for-you · 7 months

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Short Prompt #1317

"Are you certain we can't do this the hard way?" the civilian asked, leaning forward in their restraints. "I mean, come on. I was expecting something much more exciting than this!"

The villain could only shake their head in disbelief. "You are truly the strangest hostage I've ever kidnapped. You want me to beat you up?!"

#writeblr #writing #writing prompt #short prompt #hero x villain #villain x civilian #hero x villain community #smuwfy #some messed up writing for you

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arealphrooblem · 1 year

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Mutually Assured Destruction

Snyopsis: Villain x Civilian. Civilian can sense other people's powers through auras but hides this ability. They are terrified of the most boring person at their office job, who hides the most powerful aura Civilian has ever felt.

Being the first person out the door undoubtedly did Civilian no favors to their work reputation.

Anytime someone joked about it, often with an edge, Civilian would make excuses: their dog needed let out (they didn’t have a dog), they had to get to the bank before it closed (they use their banking app 90 percent of the time), they liked having a work/life balance (that one’s true).

The real reason, of course, was to avoid any encounters with them. Their newest colleague -- Jonathan Anderson. A bland, forgetful name for a bland, forgetful person. He arrived two months ago in her data entry division, dressed everyday in the same unremarkable navy suit with a grey tie, gave generic responses to small talk at lunch.

And he scared the shit out of them.

Luckily for Civilian, their paths didn’t cross that often and when they would, Civilian had found ways to neatly side step them -- emails instead of face to face conversations, calling in favors, and once, even taking a sick day to avoid a meeting.

It worked great -- until it didn’t.

The elevator descended at an agonizing snail’s pace. Civilian stood in the back, gripping the railing behind them with a sweaty hand and tried to breathe slowly and evenly.

The only other person in the elevator with them -- and the only other person in the building -- was Jonathan Anderson. Because of course he would be working late the one time Civilian had a deadline change and a mad scramble to get everything read by tomorrow.

He stood in front of the buttons, his back to them, plain brown leather briefcase dangling from his hand. To everyone else, he looked harmless. But the sheer power of his aura radiated like the sun. It made Civilian light-headed being in such close contact with it.

Thirty more seconds, they thought to themselves. That’s all this elevator ride would last. After that Civilian could scurry off to the parking garage and screech out of here.

29 . . . 28 . . . 27 . . .26 . . .

The elevator came to a sudden, sickening halt and Civilian’s heart with it. They waited for the emergency alarm to blare, but the elevator stayed eerily silent.

“Is there . . is there something wrong?” Their voice came out shaky and hoarse. They cleared their throat.

For a moment Jonathan didn’t respond. Instead he turned around to lean casually against the wall and survey them, his face as bland and unreadable as always.

“That’s a question I think I should be asking,” he said, adjusting his glasses.

Instantly their hackles rose. It took considerable effort to keep the panic from their face, to force their shoulders to relax, to look confused and concerned.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re afraid of me.”

The truth struck true, lodging itself between their ribs. Civilian swallowed, suddenly dry mouthed, and tried to find the air again.

“You’ve trapped me in an elevator and you’re bigger than me,” they pointed out.

“That is rather nerve-wracking, I’ll admit. It’s almost believable. But this started a long time ago, didn’t it?”

He straightened and took a step towards them. And another. All while speaking in that affable, level tone, as if commenting on the weather.

“Since my first day here. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you never shook my hand that day. Or that I don’t notice all the little tricks you pull to avoid me. Yet we’ve never had a negative encounter. You’ve never given me the opportunity to create a bad impression. It’s rather baffling, don’t you think?”

He stopped a safe distance away but close enough to prevent any attempt to escape. Despite being only a couple inches taller than Civilian, they loomed in the small space.

“So tell me -- how do you know?”

“Know what?”

It was their only defense, this wide eyed denial. To pretend they were discomfited by a bizarre encounter with their coworker, rather than straddling the edge of a panic attack while stuck in an elevator with a man who could kill them with a snap of his fingers probably.

He snorted. “You gave up the ability to be coy when you stepped into this elevator. Please don’t make me ask you again.”

Though he made no threatening movements, the swell of his power spoke for him, the pressure of it nearly suffocating.

“I can feel it,” Civilian whispers shakily. “Your power. Anyone’s power. They have an -- an aura about them and I can feel how strong it is.”

“So you can tell, instantly, who is and isn’t a powered individual?” he clarified, his focus sharpening like the sun through a magnifying glass.

They only managed a nod, their throat tight.

“Fascinating.”

The hint of awe in his voice would have been flattering if Civilian hadn’t spent so much effort to avoid this kind of attention.

“And which organization is benefiting from this power? Who is keeping tabs on me?”

“No one,” Civilian said hurriedly. “I haven’t told anyone.”

A wicked smirk spread like slow poison across his face, transforming a visage that no one looked twice at into something terrifying.

“Do you think I’m as stupid as I pretend to be for work? There is no possibility that any organization would allow someone like you to walk untethered. Now, answer the question before I show you exactly why my aura frightens you so much.”

His hand hovered just over their heart, the beat of which a cacophony in their ears. Nothing happened -- yet. But the anticipation of it, coupled with the fact that Civilian still had no idea what such power was, made their whole body start to tremble.

“They don’t know about me,” they said, throat tight. “No one knows about me. I’ve kept it a secret my whole life.”

Jonathan still surveyed them with suspicion. “Why? I imagine you would be an extremely valuable asset to them. And those tend to be very well compensated. You expect me to believe you’d rather be a data clerk for a bank?”

A flash of rage breaks through the fog of terror. “My father was an extremely valuable asset. It didn’t stop him from dying an excruciating and unnecessary death. I’m not following in his footsteps.”

For a moment he looked taken aback at this confession before his eyes narrowed in what almost seemed like approval. It emboldened Civilian.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re doing here and I don’t want to know. If I tell anyone about you, it will blow my secret too. So just . . . let me stay out of your way?” They swallowed, tongue darting out to moisten cracked lips. “Please?”

For several agonizing seconds he just looked at them, his face blank as printer paper. Civilian tried to meet his eyes, to look trustworthy, but the weight of his flat, calculating stare was too much. Instead, their gaze fell onto his hand, still hovering over their heart, ready to crush them or incinerate them or dissolve them or whatever ungodly thing he could do.

And then his hand slowly slipped down further between them and flipped up, palm open.

“What take out do you enjoy?” he asked.

“ . . .what?”

“It’s a bit late for a restaurant, but I know several takeout places still open this time of night. Do you have a preference?”

It was Civilian’s turn to stare at Jonathan with their brow furrowed.

“You -- you don’t need to buy me dinner,” they stammered.

“Of course I do. It’s customary for a date, yes?”

“For a what?” Civilian choked.

That wicked smirk appeared again, giving life to the void of his neutral expression.

“You know what they say. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“I -- I’m not your enemy!”

“And you will never have the opportunity to be one. I’m ensuring it. And since you refuse to acknowledge my presence here at work, there is only one other recourse. Now choose or I shall choose for you.”

A date. Dinner. With him. Someone with the strongest aura Civilian had ever encountered. Someone who was definitely planning something illegal.

“I like tacos,” they said faintly.

With a wave of his hand, the elevator shuddered back to life and continued it’s gentle decent to the ground floor.

“Then we shall get tacos,” said Jonathan, taking their hand.

Part Two

#my writing #not a prompt #enemies to lovers #villain x civilian #civilian x villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain

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thepenultimateword · 1 year

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Prompt #182

CW: blood, stitches

Medic tried not writhe as the the villain finished stitching the gash between their shoulder blades.

“Hush,” the villain said, breaking the thread with their teeth. “It’s all ok.”

It was not. They’d just been attacked and left for dead by their own leader in the middle of a job. They were confused, weak, sticky with blood, and at the mercy of a dangerous criminal. They didn’t even understand why the villain stopped for them instead of continuing their pursuit of the field team. But here Medic was, frozen on the bathroom floor of deadly stranger, hands designed to hurt patching a wound made by hands designed to help.

Medic choked on an unexpected sob.

Hesitant fingers rubbed their back, careful not to come anywhere near the new stitches. How strange to be on the other end of the needle.

“They’ll pay,” Villain soothed and for a moment, Medic hoped it might be true.

#hero x villain #villain x civilian #villain x medic #hero x villain community #heroes and villains #heroes and villains community #prompt #short prompt #writing prompt

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unboundprompts · 4 months

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Hero and Villain Prompts

↳ a masterpost for hero and villain writing prompts

↳ (#) is from my collection of random prompts, (list) contains multiple prompts.

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

How to Write a Good Villain

How to Make Readers Fear Your Villain

Hero and Villain Banter:

You're Sick (#1)

Hell to Pay (#27)

Responses to Someone Trying to Stab You (list)

Responses to Being Punched (list)

Hero and Villain Angst:

This Devil Within Me (#15)

This Heart of Mine (#16)

Alone in the World (#42)

Hero Realizing the Villain is Right (list)

Prompts About Being Stalked (list)

Hero is told by Villain that their Friend Betrayed them (list)

No Fight Left (#118)

Betrayed Your Kind (#123)

Powers Getting Stronger (#126)

The Hero Chooses to Save the World Instead of Their Lover (list)

Who Decided We Were Enemies? (#135)

I Am Not The One Who Can Help You (#137)

Hero x Villain Prompts:

Hero Avenges Villain

Rivals to Friends Dialogue (list)

Love Me or Fear Me (#40)

Hero and Villain Whump:

The Consequences to Follow (#28)

The Antidote (#43)

The Sedative (#122)

Villain and Villain Prompts:

The Decoy (#46)

Two Jerk Best Friends (list)

Villain x Villain (list)

Superpower Prompts:

The Visions (#65)

Hero and Civilian Prompts:

Civilian that Patches Hero's Injuries (list)

Hero Struggling to Balance their Civilian Life (list)

#writing prompts #dialogue prompt #creative writing #writeblr #otp prompts #prompt list #hero and villain prompts #hero x villain #hero x supervillain #hero x civilian #hero x sidekick #heroxvillain prompt

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the-broken-pen · 5 months

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“You’re a super villain.”

“And you’re gorgeous.”

“What?”

“Oh, sorry love, I thought we were stating facts.”

“You—“

“Called you gorgeous? Yes.”

“No—that’s not what I—god, you collapsed the bridge this morning.”

“Ah yes. I did that too. In more pressing matters, do you have a preference towards wine?”

“I don’t—“

“I’ll pick, then.”

“All those people—“

“Were unfortunate casualties. Look. Stop trying to call for help under the tablecloth, I can see you. Look at me. I am a villain, yes, but I would give you the world. A hero? They would give you up for the world. Do you really want to love someone who will never put you first?”

“…no.”

“Excellent. Now, do you like pasta?”

“Um. Yes?”

The super villain smiled.

In the end, loving them was easier than the civilian had thought.

#villain x civilian #writing #writing community #creative writing #snippet #heroes and villains #fic writing #ficlet #writing prompt #writblr #flirting #dialogue #writer #original writing #gentle #happy ending

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thechaoticweirdo · 5 months

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This crap isn't fair.

I am so tired of the villain x hero trope. There's so much of it.

I need a damn fanfic where you're just a normal civilian who somehow caught the attention of a damn supervillain. I need that same supervillain to just propose to make a death ray together. AND I NEED US TO SAY YES. BECAUSE WHO THE FUCK WOULDN'T WANT TO BUILD A DEATH RAY???? I DON'T CARE IF I NEED TO DRESS UP ALL PRETTY OR EVEN DRESS LIKE A GOOFY GOOBER I JUST NEED TO BE NORMAL TURNED VILLAIN BECAUSE A VILLAIN

LIKES US.

Anyways, thank you for coming.

#villain #civilian #villain x civilian #villain x villain #villain x reader #fanfic #I JUST NEED VILLAINS #citizen turned villain #strangers to lovers #PLEASSEEEEEEEEEE #proposal #love #writing prompt #fic prompt #prompt

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gingerly-writing · 8 months

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Prompt #3469

“Why can’t you just be happy for me?!”

“Because you’re dating a supervillain!”

#prompt #my prompt #heroes and villains #dating #villain x civilian

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epiclamer · 2 days

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“I wish we could start over.” Civilian mumbled through tears, trying to earn themselves one more look from their hero ex-lover, but Villain saw right through them.

Protectively, they wrapped an arm around the crime-stopper’s deflated shoulders, before they retorted.

“You don’t deserve a second chance.”

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some-messed-up-writing-for-you · 11 months

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Short Prompt #1208

CW: kidnapping.

“Oh, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” the villain whispered raggedly, running a gentle hand down the civilian’s face.

Civilian flinched in their binds, leaning away from the unwelcome touch. “I-I’m flattered, really, but–”

“Ah-ah!” Villain chastised, wagging a disapproving finger. “Art Pieces aren’t meant to talk, gorgeous.” They moved in close, hot breath fanning against their captive’s face. “So keep that pretty mouth shut for me. Okay~?”

#villain x civilian #writing #writeblr #writing community #short prompt #writing prompt #smuwfy #some messed up writing for you #hero x villain community #tw: kidnapping

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arealphrooblem · 8 months

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A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find

Synopsis: Civilian has harbored a secret crush on his roommate for a long time, only to find out that said roommate is the newest villain on the scene during a robbery at his job.

CW: death threats, knives

There was only one thing worse than having a crush on your straight roommate: having a crush on your straight villain roommate.

Actually worse than that were rent prices, which kept Civilian from running as far in the opposite direction as he could get after he gave his statement to the police.

A statement that contained a big, gaping hole.

Because it couldn’t be true, right? It had to be a coincidence. Lots of people had weird, star shaped birthmarks on their ribs. It was a huge leap of logic to assume that the villain who had just tried to rob the bank that morning had the exact same birthmark as Civilian’s roommate for the past two years.

Or maybe he just imagined it. It had been a very traumatic day. Civilian went home after the police released him and had a massive panic attack in the shower for about forty five minutes and then pressed two weighted blankets on him in bed like a panini grill.

Having a group of villains stride into your workplace, guns blazing, would do that to you. As would getting stuck in the crossfire between said villains and the Hero from behind a desk, praying a stray bullet or laser beam wouldn’t hit and kill you.

It was only a coincidence that Civilian had seen the birthmark. Near the end of the fight, one of the villains had been thrown over the very desk Civilian cowered behind, hitting the wall hard enough that even Civilian winced in sympathy.

He laid there for a moment, dazed, half his torso exposed from a rip in his clothes, that stupid, undeniable birthmark on full display. Civilian could only stare at it, head dizzy as if he also took blunt force trauma to it. The villain groaned and sat up.

For one agonizingly long second their eyes met. Civilian felt like a kitten spotted by a hawk. This was it. His time was up. He’d be just another statistic on the news --

But the villain just put a finger on his lips -- a silent command for silence -- that Civilian could only nod helplessly at. Then the villain slipped away in the chaos and disappeared.

And besides, it couldn’t be his roommate because his roommate was in Colorado, visiting some online friend of his and going mountain biking or whatever.

Two days after the attack, Roommate burst through the front door, dumping his duffel bag onto the floor and stepping towards Civilian with a scary single minded determination.

It took every ounce of control not to flinch when Roommate cupped his face, gaze roving over his features as if looking for injuries.

Roommate himself looked untouched from the fight. It almost made Civilian second guess himself. But he hadn’t spent the last two days analyzing every detail his love-sick brain had filed away for the last two years to doubt himself now.

That villain and his roommate were the same person.

“I saw the news,” Roommate said. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt? I tried to change my flight but this was the soonest I could get in.”

The lie hurt. Obviously Roommate hadn’t been mountain biking in Colorado for the past few days so it begged the question: what else did he lie about? Was this concern just an elaborate play at innocence? But if his roommate was taking the time to craft this act of concern, then he must not think Civilian knew.

And if Civilian valued his life, he’d have to keep it that way and force normalcy.

“I’m fine,” he said, trying for a smile and coming up with a grimace. “I mean, I’m not fine. It was fucking scary, but I didn’t get hurt. So there’s that. Work’s given me a week off and then. . .”

Roommate scowled. “And then what? They can’t possibly think you’d be okay working there again after only a few days off? You should quit.”

“Quit?” Civilian’s eyebrows raised. “And we both get thrown out on our asses? We’re lucky enough to have this apartment as it is.”

“I have enough savings to get us through for a few weeks while you find another job,” Roommate insisted.

“I thought you blew it all on Colorado,” Civilian joked weakly.

And where the fuck did those savings come from? he wanted to ask. But he didn’t dare.

“Not all of it. Seriously. You should think about it.”

Something gleamed in the roommate’s eyes, like a warning. Civilian swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Okay. I’ll think about it. I just . . .I think I’m going to go lay down for a bit. It’s good to have you back. You’ll have to tell me all about it when I wake up again.”

Roommate’s face lit up with a smile and Civilian’s heart twisted in his chest. “I have so many good photos. It’s beautiful out there.You should come with me next time.”

“Yeah sure,” said Civilian thoughtlessly, thinking only of the dark safety of his room.

“Get some rest.” Roommate nudged Civilian towards the hallway. “I’ll order us pizza.”

Civilian nodded and forced his steps to slow as he made his way to the bedroom. Once the door shut and the fan turned on, he buried his head under his pillows and tried to get his breathing under control.

Faking normalcy was going to be harder than he thought.

"Oh you're starting dinner already?"

Civilian jumped at the sound of his roommate's voice, the knife slipping and nearly cutting into his fingertip. A quick glance over his shoulder showed his roommate leaning against the opposite counter, arms folded loosely over his chest.

Just a casual chat. And yet it felt like a fist suddenly gripped Civilian's heart. Even after three days, it still felt like walking the knife’s edge every time they were in the same room together.

"I, um, got bored," he said, thankful to be facing away so his terror wouldn't show as he fought it back down. "I didn't know you'd be home so soon."

"I took a half day at lunch. Did some shopping. I got you more of that tea. It seemed to help you sleep."

A hint of guilt colored his roommate's nonchalance. Or maybe Civilian just imagined it.

"Thanks," Civilian said.

Focus. Focus on the potato. Cube the potato. Be the potato.

Heart thudding in his ears, his concentration on chopping vegetables, Civilian didn't hear the movement until his roommate's head appeared over his shoulder.

"What are you making?" he asked.

Civilian swallowed down a lick of sudden hysteria.

Get a fucking hold of yourself he thought. There is no reason why he'd be suspicious unless you're acting like a lunatic!

"Soup," he managed to croak. "The, uh, kind at the Italian restaurant you like."

A bribe. A hope. A way to remind himself that he knew his roommate, right? They've lived together for two years.

And true to form, his roommate's eyes brightened. "Oh excellent! We haven't had that in ages."

"That's because chopping all these vegetables is a pain in the ass."

A thick tension rose and tightened between them. Civilian concentrated on chopping, trying to ignore the heat at his back as his roommate didn't step away, didn't leave. Just watched him.

"You're using the wrong knife, you know," the roommate said softly.

" . . .what?"

The roommate reached over Civilian's shoulder to the knife block on the counter and pulled one out. It was small and two fingers wide, short and wickedly sharp. Fear clenched Civilian's throat with icy hands.

"You're using a butcher knife," his roommate murmured against Civilian's ear. A shiver fluttered down his neck. "That's for cutting meat. You need a paring knife for vegetables."

" . . .Oh." Was it just him or did the kitchen suddenly feel low on air? "I'll . . . remember that . . .for next time. . ."

"Why don't I take over? At least for the chopping."

Civilian tightened his grip on the knife, an instinctive gesture he had no control over. But even though Roommate had offered help in the kitchen many times, that same instinct screamed not to let him. Something felt different this time.

"I got it," he said, forcing lightness in his tone. "You know you're hopeless in the kitchen."

"I'm good with knives, though." Civilian swallowed down another spike of cold terror. "It's the least I can do if you're making me my favorite."

The paring knife rested just inside Civilian's peripheral, deceptively harmless.

"Why don't you put the gnocchi on to boil," he said. "I'm almost done here."

His roommate sighed, a rush of air against Civilian’s cheek. "You're always so stubborn," he said with sad fondness.

The paring knife moved like a flash and suddenly it's cold steel pressed light as a kiss just under Civilian's jaw.

His breath froze in his lungs.

"Drop the knife, Civilian."

" . . .Roommate?" It wasn't difficult to pitch his voice high in uncertain fear. To pretend shock. "What are you doing?"

"I know that you know."

"Know what?" Civilian breathed and then cringed at how unbelievable it sounded even to his own ears.

He only had room in his head for one secret, it was hard to sound convincingly ignorant when every cell screamed at him to run away.

"You've tried so valiantly to hide it, but I know you too well." Roommate's murmured against his ear. "You're afraid."

Civilian dragged a shaky breath into his lungs. "You have a knife to my throat."

"And you are nowhere near as shocked about that as you should be." Roommate twisted the knife until the flat of the blade lay against Civilian's skin -- and then he dragged it, achingly slow, over Civilian's jawline to rest against raw bitten lips.

A wave of dizziness gripped him, driven by fear mixed with the heady, dangerous edge of want, the desire Civilian struggled with for so many months wrapping its claws around his chest.

"Be a good boy and drop the knife."

Breath came fast and heavy as he willed himself to relax his fingers, to release the knife. Not that he would have even thought of it as a weapon and not a kitchen tool until his roommate demonstrated it. But with one having danced so close to his pulse, letting go of his own felt like a death sentence.

The second he dropped the knife, his roommate twisted a hand into the fabric of his shirt and hauled him across the kitchen to pin him against the fridge. The smiling tomato magnet they grabbed as a joke at a yard sale clattered to the floor and broke into pieces. The roommate doesn't so much as flinch, their gaze like stone, the knife never wavering from Civilian's neck.

He swallows thickly against the panic, never more afraid in his life than in this moment. He never thought death would look like his favorite person in the world ready to slit his throat with a paring knife.

And yet the desire still thrummed beneath it all, a twisted hunger being fed from such close contact, like his body forgot to stop yearning in light of what his mind knew. But the stone-cold glint in his roommate’s eyes twisted his face from comfortingly familiar into dangerously unrecognizable.

Seeing it shattered something in Civilian just like that stupid magnet. His eyes prickled and stung; the roommate's face turned blurry. Humiliated, he darted his gaze to the window, focusing on the speck of green of the neighbor’s tree swaying in the breeze.

And waited for death.

Time stretched long and excruciating between each heartbeat. Then the coolness of the knife disappeared, replaced by warm fingers that nudged his gaze back to his roommate’s.

“Hey,” the roommate said softly.

That granite hardness of his gaze had melted into soft concern. The exact kind of look he gave Civilian each time a migraine flared up. The reminder of that felt as dangerous as the knife. It couldn’t be real.

“Hey, it’s okay.”

The words hit him like a slap to the face.

“Don’t say that!” Civilian hissed. “I didn’t do anything and you’re going to kill me.”

He flinched from the hand that raised up, knocking his head painfully against the fridge. But Roommate only brushed a stray tear away with his calloused thumb.

“You’re right,” he said pensively. “You didn’t do anything. And I’m not going to kill you.”

He turned and tossed the knife into the sink. Civilian did not feel any safer, however. He felt like a bug under the shadow of a boot, even as Roommate smoothed his hands over Civilian’s chest in a display of casual affection he would have died for a week earlier.

“Here is what I am going to do,” he continued. “I’m going to finish dinner. You’re going to compose yourself in a long hot shower and when you get out we are going to eat and have a discussion about the way things are going to be from now on. Is that alright?”

Civilian nodded, not trusting his voice. What other answer could he possibly give?

Part two here

#hero x villain #villain x civilian #m x m #enemies to lovers #writeblr #original fiction #my writing #not a prompt #a good roommate is hard to find

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