A Hero's Love (Patreon)

If you wouldn't mind could I request a snippet where a big time villain takes in a small time villain in order to protect her from the hero who's obsessed with her? (Obsessed as in they're in love with her, not as in wanting to kill or imprison her) Big time villain and hero can be whatever you want, but could the small time villain be a lady?

“He’s staring at you again.”

Malefica startled at the words; or, perhaps, more specifically, the voice. Hollow rarely spoke. When the supervillain was around, he was most often sat quietly in his favourite corner, watching any proceedings without involvement. Her hands faltered where she’d reached, automatically, to start up his usual order.

She released a breath and kept her own voice carefully light.

“Yeah,” she said. “He does that a lot.”

The hero called it ‘surveillance’, even if they both knew it wasn’t that. She wasn’t worth surveilling really, or at least not by the likes of him.

Her café – the Maleficarum – wasn’t exclusively a place for the city’s villains by any means. But it was also an open secret that most of the city’s villains were her clientele and that she could, on occasion, clean some of their ill-gotten cash for them. More to the point though, where else could they get a strong cup of coffee and some food at literally any hour around their various schemes? She was discreet, she could patch someone up in a pinch, and she had the (unofficial) ability to make a perfect cup of tea for anyone shortly after meeting them.

Her official ability was the power to manipulate light sources.

She was ultimately small time, even despite the bit of money laundering here and there on the side. She was one of the many little fish in their very big, shared pond. There was absolutely no reason whatsoever that a superhero of Mr Magnificent’s calibre should be as obsessed with her as he was. And yet. Time and time again, Mr Magnificent would find her, at work or otherwise. He would smile. He would tell her that she could be redeemed, that he knew she was better than the life she led, that he could help her be free of all of it. He flirted. He found every excuse to pin her down for the sake of ‘justice’, even as he refused to turn her in to the proper authorities for her crimes.

“He followed you home last night.”

It was not a question, and Malefica felt herself tense slightly. Her throat locked tight. It was no surprise that Hollow might keep tabs on Magnificent; the two of them were on the same level.

“I know.”

“Do you want to come home with me tonight?”

Malefica’s gaze shot up, meeting Hollow’s pitch black eyes. There was no sleaze in the supervillain’s voice, no hint of insinuation or suggestion. His voice was measured.

“I own a building on the east side,” Hollow said, though that was hardly a secret either. “You could have a flat of your own or you could stay in the spare room of my personal penthouse, if you do not want to risk being alone. I doubt he will try to infiltrate something of mine.”

“…What?”

It was not, admittedly, her most eloquent of responses.

She could count on one hand the number of conversations she’d ever had with Hollow that wasn’t the supervillain’s drink order, ‘good evening’ or ‘have a nice night’. They were in entirely different leagues after all.

Once, when some of the villains had got into some infighting inside her café, he’d threatened them in his soft lethal way to take it outside and away from her property and his newspaper, or he’d take them all outside if they caught his drift Of course she was aware of his general criminal reputation too. Hollow was a coldly courteous sort of monster by all accounts, utterly ruthless when crossed.

The man who had no heart.

The man who was empty inside.

He tipped generously, though.

“You cannot stop him.” The supervillain’s tone was neutral, matter-of-fact. “His regenerative capabilities leave him close to immortal from any normal human weapon or lesser ability. You are working later and later because you do not wish to risk leaving this place, with its witnesses, to anywhere he might find you.”

“He won’t do anything to me.” Her mouth felt dry. “He thinks of himself as a hero. It would be – ungentlemanly.”

Hollow raised a brow.

She looked down.

Mr Magnificent might not outright attack her, but that didn’t mean that she was safe, she knew that. 

He didn’t read her hatred of him as hatred. He read it as the opening act of her strong feelings, of her secretly being in love with him. Her cutting words had been interpreted as banter. 

Yet what could she say - ‘go away and leave me alone?’ He was infinitely more powerful than she was, and she knew the dangers well enough of refusing deadly men who thought they were entitled to something As Hollow said, he was largely invulnerable, and his love burned bright enough to send her entire life up in smoke and ash. 

For a while…for months, it had felt better, smarter, to simply appease the hero. Not encourage him, but…

“It’s been getting worse,” Hollow said, echoing her thoughts. “He’s not getting bored and moving on like you hoped.”

Malefica knew, if she looked up, she’d see the hero. He’d be sitting across the street somewhere. Maybe he’d fetch flowers, or get take-out, and offer again to walk her home. A shiver ran down her spine.

No, there was absolutely no guarantee whatsoever that Mr Magnificent wouldn’t do something terrible ‘for her protection.’ He’d made it perfectly clear that he thought she was being used, blackmailed, exploited. How long, really, would he be put off by her refusals otherwise?

It simply wasn’t possible that she might enjoy what she did and her extra incomes, was it? Oh no. She was only small time. She wasn’t evil and heartless like the likes of Hollow.

She focused again on making the villain’s drink, sliding it across the counter with trembling fingers.

“Why would you – offer this,” she managed, finally, keeping her voice low as if the hero might be able to hear. “You want to mess with him? You want free coffee? A favour?”

“I want to protect you.”

“God, you’re not in love with me too, are you?” It sort of blurted out in horror, and she promptly blanched in the aftermath, because she couldn’t believe she’d said that to him, of all people.

She saw a smile crack across the supervillain’s lips – possibly the first genuine one she’d ever seen. He shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I merely think you deserve to be protected. To feel safe.”

Somehow, that comment was devastating. It floored her utterly in its plainness, its unexpectedness. There were none of the tell-tale signs that he was trying to impress her or influence her opinion on him in anyway. It was, simply, an answer.

She swallowed hard and tried to joke. “How heroic of you.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean—I mean—”

“Don’t ever compare me to their kind again.”

“Sorry.”

He shook his head, as if to dismiss it, picking his drink up off the counter.

“Just—” Uncharacteristically, he hesitated. “Take some time to think about the offer, okay? You don't need to decide immediately or even today. I appreciate that you may not trust me, or any overtures of protection, given your situation and Magnificent’s unwanted saviour complex. I can only hope you believe me when I tell you that, should you refuse the offer, I won’t press the issue. If you would like me to leave or if I have made you uncomfortable in any way, please simply bring the receipt to my table. If you would like me to stay until you are ready to go home, I can wait today."

“But what about not today?”

He stopped, turning back towards her.

She bit her lip. “He’s not going to give up, is he?” It came out barely above a whisper.

“Heroes aren’t known for surrender as a general species, no. At least not in my experience.”

“So even if I go home with you today it won’t fix the problem. The next time I’m home, or at work, or anywhere…” Nausea, fear, rose in her throat. She wondered if he was ever scared of anything. 

He did not reach out to offer comfort, to squeeze her hand, to tell her that everything was going to be okay. He stayed silent for a beat, then:

“I apologise,” he said. “It seems I have not made myself quite clear on the matter.” He met her eyes a second time. “If he takes you, I will come for you. If you wish for me to arrange a security detail, I will. If you would like to take a holiday and hide in my building, I can arrange staff cover. I have a pool. A library. It is not an ideal situation but I would do my best to ensure you are comfortable. And if he hurts you…” Something dark flashed bottomless and angry across his usually impassive face. “I will grind his hands and his knees to dust so fast that he’ll never grow the bones back, come what may.”

His voice was still quiet, still level, but relentless as he continued, and even though that terrifying fury was still on his face, she knew to her blood that it wasn’t for her. Not even remotely.

“Love is not a cage. It is not a coercion. It is not owed,” he said. “I know what a hero’s love is like and I—” For a second time, he stopped. In another first, he closed his eyes and let out a visible exhale of shaking breath. His jaw clenched. “You deserve to be protected. I can and will protect you if that is what you would like. If you let me. So, please, think about it.”

He vanished to his table, leaving her to stare after him, gobsmacked.

That night they left together.