#i said i liked scrivener and my friend was like cool! crazy that im buying a license as we speak whoa. wow. anyways here you go

[raineandsky]

hi! i love ur work! i was wondering if you could write something about two enemies (hero x villain) that are undercover as civilians and begrudgingly working together? and somehow villain witnesses an interaction between hero and someone that clearly makes the hero uncomfortable, and realizes his hero has some trauma there? thank you!

ooooh i love this!! thank you for the request, hope you enjoy :D

tw: stalking

“Huh,” someone says flatly from the tills. “Long time no see.”

The hero’s gaze is turned very pointedly to the screen in front of them. “Yeah.”

The villain glances up from where he’s more or less fighting a stack of baskets. A woman is letting herself into the hero’s space, her arm resting casually on the counter and a smug smirk playing at her lips. The hero is leaning as far away as physically possible from her, looking anywhere but her face.

Ooh, drama. The villain can’t deny a little excitement in this bland little life.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” the woman continues. Her voice is much too loud for what she’s saying. The hero winces. The villain edges curiously closer. “A talk is long overdue, ain’t it?”

“I’m working,” the hero says weakly.

The hero has a fatal flaw. The villain positively delights in the fact. As if the hero can feel the joy radiating off the villain, they shoot him a desperate glance.

“You’re helping a customer, honey,” the woman says brazenly. “Now tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Sorry.” An older man pulls the villain’s attention from the unfolding show in front of him, much to his dismay. “I’ve been waiting a while. Is that the only till available?”

The villain groans inwardly. This bit of fun will have to be for another day. “Sorry. Let me sort that for you.”

He makes his way to the tills, where the hero is trying—and failing, by the looks of it—to shoot down the woman’s questions. Villainy has given him an extra lack of care; he shoves himself straight into their conversation without a thought.

“Hi,” the villain cuts in smoothly, “hi—sorry, you’re holding up the queue.”

A queue of one, mind. The woman gives him an incredulous once-over. “They’re helping a customer, honey.”

“They’re chatting on the job.” The villain shoots the hero an annoyed glare, which they return, stupidly, with relief. “You’re preventing our staff from working. I need you to pay and leave, please.”

The woman smirks like she’s about to win an argument. “I’m not paying for anything.”

“Oh, cool.” The villain returns her smugness with plain annoyance. “You can just get out then.”

“You—! Ugh, fine.” The woman sneers at him before turning her gaze back to the hero. “I’ll see you at the end of your shift, honey.”

The hero positively pales. “Oh, uh—”

The woman saunters for the doors, clearly disinterested in an answer, and the hero watches her go blankly.

“Alright.” The villain ushers the old man ahead. “Do your job this time, or I’ll have to smite you into next week.”

The literalness of the sentence is lost to the old man, but the hero smiles slightly at the threat anyway.

He leaves after what feels like an eternity, and the villain pounces on his opportunity for gossip instantly. “Well? Make this dead-end job worth it, please.”

The hero’s face hardens into an irritated frown. “Is there a reason you’re so interested in my life?”

The villain graces him with an innocent smile. “Blackmail.”

The hero stares at him for a long moment before deflating with a sigh. They start folding a plastic bag more carefully than the villain has ever had the displeasure of watching. “She’s my ex.”

“It’s always the ex!” The villain laughs, giving the hero a light punch in the arm. It’s a lot calmer a gesture than he’ll be giving them later, but he doesn’t need the entire shop knowing he could burn this place to the ground. “What’d you do to piss her off?”

The bag gets lovingly placed on the folded bag pile the hero apparently has. The villain’s never been close enough to this till to have noticed it before.

“I didn’t do anything,” the hero says defensively. “She’s the one who couldn’t let it go and thinks following me around is going to fix anything.”

The villain gapes openly at the hero. The hero pointedly turns away to fiddle with something on the register next to them.

“Oh my god,” the villain says in the tones of a dramatic schoolgirl. “You have a stalker.”

The no I don’t the villain was expecting doesn’t come out. The hero carefully adjusts the register screen, the angle way more important than it should be. “Oh my god, [Hero],” the villain repeats, “you have a stalker.”

“I don’t see why that’s such a crazy concept to you,” the hero snaps. “I thought you’d have loved the thought of someone creeping around after me.”

“I’d love it if it was me creeping around after you,” the villain says with a scoff. “I know what I’d be doing if I was doing it. What’s she doing?”

“Hoping I’ll talk to her.”

“She’s insane.”

“That’s well established by now.”

“Okay, well…” The villain wrings his hands awkwardly. “If you, like, want me to smite her or anything, y’know…”

“What is with you and smiting people?” The hero laughs, kind of, and the villain hates that he’s glad they do. “And why would you do it if I wanted you to?”

The villain shrugs. He’s the one turning his face away now, picking idly at some of the vinyl peeling off the counter. “It’s a nice excuse for me to go after someone who clearly deserves it.”

“And I don’t?”

“I’m trying to be nice for the first time in my life, [Hero],” the villain snaps sharply. “Stop making it so difficult.”

The hero rolls their eyes. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead. I’ll be reporting this to the first journalist I see though. Ah, I can see the headline already.” They grin at the villain’s growing scowl. “Evil villain turned good by a hero's personal problems. They would love you.”

“And I’m going to love kicking your ass so hard tonight you won’t be able to sit for a week,” he retorts. Then, after a moment’s deliberation, “do you need me to walk you to your car?”

“Aww, you’re so—”

“Okay, no, nevermind. Walk yourself.”

The hero smiles lightly. “If you don’t mind. It’d help a lot.”

The villain nods shortly. He turns back the pile of baskets and makes a mental note to add an extra round to his smiting machine later.