I absolutely love your writing!! I'm wondering if u could do a masochist hero being hurt/interrogated/tortured by a (possessive and/or obsessive) villain that at some point realizes the hero is into it?
"My, my." The villain's hand caressed the hero's throat from behind, tone abruptly reverent. "You're enjoying this."
The hero shook their head, closing your eyes, but didn't trust themselves to speak.
"Oh, please," the villain continued. "I know it took me a little, but I know a masochist when I see one." They squeezed - enough to restrict air, but not enough to do any real damage.
The hero's breath hitched. They bit down hard on their lip, but it didn't stop a small sound from escaping.
"I know all your favourites," the villain whispered against their ear. "And I'd say if you weren't enjoying this that you could just tell me what I want to know, but we both know it's not that simple, is it?" Their other hand snaked around, pressing over the hero's racing heart. "Every inch of you is screaming it so sweetly."
"No." It came out breathless.
The villain let go, and the hero's gasped at the sudden and complete withdrawal.
"Alright." The villain circled in front of them again, hands tucking neatly into their pockets. "I'll stop then."
"I will if you want me to."
"Liar. You're too much of an obsessive."
"Guilty." The villain shrugged, a small smile curling their lips. "But at least I can admit I am. Maybe my new obsession is getting you to admit your own truths. Do you still think I wouldn't deprive you, then?"
The hero studied the villain's face, feeling rather like a fish squirming on a hook. Because, well. They maybe didn't want the villain to stop, actually. Even if they very much should want that, given the whole point of being a hero in the first place. It wasn't something to think about it. The hero would have been fine never thinking about it too closely.
"If you're hurting me," the hero said, "you're not hurting anyone else. I can take it."
"I'm sure," the villain purred. "That was never the question."
The villain reached out a hand again, after a moment, and with the same infuriating gentleness wiped the blood from the hero's lip.
The hero flinched from that more than they'd flinched from any rough touch or word.
"Liar," the villain crooned, and clicked the button to release the hero's restraints.
The hero dropped, landing heavily on their knees before the villain. They glanced up, to see the villain had their hands in their pockets once more, the picture of devastating confidence.
The villain did not doubt.
"Come back," the villain said. "When you're willing to ask nicely for what you need."
The villain laughed, watching the hero struggle to their feet.
"And you're mine. See you soon."
It was only as the hero stormed away, fled, that they realised they'd never denied those last statements.
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