happilychaengs

[happilychaengs]

sososososo good

y/n teetering between that line of handler/spouse is lowk nerve racking. i’m excited for if or when momo founds out

05:53 | mm

pairing: assassin!momo x handler!reader

summary: good speakers are good liars, too bad momo is neither. co-written by @eternallyghosting chapter summary: momo needs a fucking break

warning: feelings of anxiety and burn out, brief mentions of killing and weapons (generally assassination related themes)

word count: 5.8k

a/n: assassin!momo is here early bc of indigo, everyone say 'thank you indigo' !!! NEED TO MAKE THIS EXPLICIT AS POSSIBLE, AS USUAL I DIDN'T DO SHIT <3

“Good work in Johor Bahru, 64. The organization wants you to leave for Bergen right away. Proceed to the airport immediately. I’ll be sending over travel details soon.”

You were met with silence.

“64? Can you hear me?” Momo didn’t answer. 

You sighed, “64, I know it’s a bit of a long flight.” That was the understatement of the century. “But at least that’ll give you some time to recuperate before the next mission, right?”

“I don’t need to recuperate,” Momo mumbled. 

You hesitated for a moment. Clearly, she needed the rest, you didn’t know why she wasn’t being honest. 

“Listen, 64, I know it’s hard—” you began.

“I don’t think you do,” Momo let out a derisive laugh. You swallowed the rest of your sentence.

“Alright, I’ve obviously hit a nerve but I think—”

“I’m not asking you to think! Or sympathise! Or whatever it is you’re trying to do,” Momo spat. “Maybe just do your part of the job and I do mine, yeah, Hippolyta?” 

This was a new development. But not unfounded.

“Sorry,” she said after a few seconds of awkward silence, the waver in her breath caught by your sensitive earpiece. “Sorry, I’m just tired, alright? Please go on.”

“Uh, alright, as I was saying. After this, your Costa Rica mission has been pushed forward by a week. The client wants the cartel taken out as soon as possible,” it was difficult to give her the next order. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave for San Jose as soon as you wrap up in Bergen, 64.” 

You tried not to let the disappointment show in your voice. Your organization was currently going through an overdrive, which meant more missions kept piling on, leaving no rest for Momo. It had been weeks since you had last seen your wife, last hugged her, or held her. 

She reflected your disappointment as she just sighed. It must be harder for her. 

“Hey, 64,” it was so hard to be personable when you couldn’t say her name. You hoped your voice made up for it. “I’m sorry, I know—”

“You know nothing!” 

Whatever calm had come across her in the last few minutes instantly vanished. 

“You know nothing of what it’s like! What it’s like to be out here for hours on end! To stalk and hunt and kill! Actually, you know, it’s not even about lying in the dirt, or carrying around heavy weaponry, or eating shit for days just to stay undercover. That I can deal with,” Momo let out another scoff. “It’s the waiting that gets to you—it’s the travel, it’s the constant seeking of approval just to get back home… ” 

Once she started, it was hard to control everything bursting out of her. Although she had become pretty comfortable with Hippolyta, and often shared random conversations with them, this was the first time she had let anything personal spill. You couldn’t help but startle initially, but now you just sat there taking the verbal lashing. This wasn’t your fault, you were aware of that much. So why did it feel like it was?

“Mo… hmm, I—” you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying her name. Your heart ached for her. Not just because she was away from you, but also because you couldn’t share this burden with her. You couldn’t help her lighten the load.

Not as her handler. Not as her Y/N. 

You waited for Momo’s breath to even out. When she didn’t say anything, you decided to start again. 

“I may not know what it’s like being out on the field,” you had to tread carefully here. “But I do understand what it’s like being away from your loved one.” 

Your breath hitched when you admitted that. Neither of you had ever let something this personal come into your agent-handler relationship before.

“It’s just the kind of job we signed up for,” that’s all this was. A job. “I won’t deny it’s a shitty situation, but after that one week, you’re done. You can go home. I promise you that.”

The long silence almost had you double-checking the connection of the call.

“Hey, 64, you there?”

You were met with silence.

“Agent, I need an affirmation.”

“... Alright,” she whispered.

It wasn’t much, but you’d take it. After all, Momo had never strayed from official orders before. Not enough to risk her job, at least.

“Wait, what? So you’re telling me—”

“Yup, I’m in Bergen right now.”

“Woah, how did that happen? That must’ve been an insane journey!” you sounded fake to your own ears. You hoped Momo didn’t catch on.

“Yeah, remember when I didn’t answer any of your texts a few days ago?” Momo let out a laugh, there was no mirth to it. “I was on a plane the whole time.”

“I just assumed you lost track of time playing Candy Crush or something.”

That did bring a real laugh out of her. 

“Well, that too,” she said. “Did you know I’m on level 651 now?”

“Real impressive, babe,” you said toying with the earpiece, discarded on the coffee table from your last call. “But anyways, when are you coming back from Bergen then?”

She paused. You saw her pacing around her stuffy hotel room as she hesitantly answered. “Well, actually, I don’t think I can come home right away. They’re sending me to Costa Rica tomorrow.”

“What? Why?” you couldn’t help but glance at yourself in the tiny box on the screen from time to time. You hated how fake your expressions looked, how you couldn’t be honest with her even when she needed you most. 

“I’m so sorry. It’s some internal management thing,” Momo let out a frustrated groan. “They need someone who’s at a higher position to open up the San Jose branch. Just my luck it happened to be me they chose.”

Momo’s disappointed tone broke your heart. You knew this was coming, of course you did, but hearing it once again from your wife’s mouth made the distance much too real all over again.

Still, you tried for a smile. 

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure San Jose will be fun. I’ve heard they have amazing museums there!” Knowing how upset Momo was about the constant travel made you want to try harder to be supportive. “Maybe you can go and take goofy pictures in front of the sculptures like we did that one time in Prague, remember?” 

Unfortunately, it seemed that no efforts to cheer her up would work this time. She let out another long groan and threw herself on the bed. Bringing the phone really close to her face, she said, “I really just wanted to come back home. I’m sorry I keep doing this to you.”

Shit. Of all the times to have video called Momo. 

Averting your eyes from her teary ones so that you wouldn’t cry too, you attempted to comfort her. 

“I know how tiring it must be to constantly travel, don’t beat yourself up over it, Momo. And don’t worry about me, okay! I’m fine, truly! I’ll keep everything up and running here while you whip rookies out there into shape. It’s what we do, right?” you were trying to convince yourself instead of her. “Besides, Mr Jones invited us for dinner and I know you really don’t want to have to sit through that again, right?” 

“Still, though,” she whispered, “you shouldn't have to go through that by yourself. I'd rather sit through that than here all alone.”

Oh Momo. If only she knew that you were aware of what she was going through.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll distract him and ask about his ‘good ol’ golfing days’. That’ll have him chattering on for hours,” she chuckled at that, although it was muffled since half her face was pressed into the pillow. “And I’ll also go down to the store and buy those berries you like so I have a pie ready for you when you come home. We’ll spend our time relaxing. How does that sound?”

She nodded sleepily. Momo must be exhausted to the point of falling asleep right there on call.

You doubted she heard you but said it anyway.  

“Have a good night, Momo. I love you.” 

[11:52] Momo: im boarding now Y/N: Have a safe flight! See you soon <3 Momo: me too, cant wait to be home aaaaa Y/N: I’ll be waiting with your pie!

[16:37] Momo: just landed! Y/N: How was the flight? Momo: eh Momo: were you gonna pcik me up or should i take a cab Y/N: You’ll have to get a cab, sorry. I tried rescheduling it but the town committee meetup is at our place tonight. Momo: omg i legit forgot they still did those Momo: i can take a cab dw Momo: you must be so busy Y/N: Yeah, I’m just making sure all the snacks and drinks are ready. Y/N: Might have to make one more grocery run actually.

[17:20] Momo: found a cab Momo: should be home in 40 mins

She sighed. You must be really busy or else you rarely left her on read.

As the cab neared your street, she could see a crowd of people already gathered around the house. This was what living in a small town was like. Everyone knew each other, and so of course, offered to get together to help for any event you held, no matter how small. 

They have nothing better to do with their lives.

Okay. Perhaps, that was a bit harsh. 

Thankfully, Momo managed to slip into the house, unnoticed by all the townsfolk laying out chairs and tables filled with plates of snacks that you had made. Her stomach grumbled upon seeing all the food, but she hurried upstairs into your shared bedroom before dropping her suitcase and rushing to change out of her travel clothes.

What she really wanted was a long hot shower, maybe even a soak in the tub, but fresh clothes would have to do for now. On her way out of the room and down the stairs, she bumped into you.

“Y/N!” she yelled the same time you screamed. “Momo!”

This would be an incredibly stupid way to die, the voice in the back of your head said, you shushed it quickly and leaned on the stairway railing. The shock had subsided quickly and was replaced by elation; you hugged Momo as hard as you could with the cutlery in your hand.

You broke apart apologetically. “I’m sorry, I wish you could take a rest but the meeting’s starting soon and we’re still missing a few things.”

“No worries,” Momo shrugged it off, though there was no energy in her voice. “Anything I can do to help?”

You passed over the handful of cutlery to her as you hurriedly stated, “Yeah, could you just lay these out for me? And I think we still need to pour some juice for all the kids.”

Momo nodded and went down the stairs two at a time. As she rounded into the kitchen, she wished she’d taken a minute to mentally prepare herself for all the questions the neighbours would no doubt ask her.

She was right. As soon as she went over to the table, she heard. “Oh Momo, when did you get back? Y/N was telling us how you were away for really long.”

Momo forced on a polite smile, she had no idea who she was talking to. Perhaps having files on her neighbours might help, she thought to herself. She made a mental note to ask Y/N how they remembered all these people. “Yes, I had to travel quite a lot for some business-related things, but I’m just glad to be home now.”

“Where was it you went to? Malaysia, was it?” Momo’s vision blurred for a second. “I remember Y/N telling us we had to cancel the meeting two weeks ago.” 

“Mhmm, Malaysia. Then Norway. Now, I just got back from Costa Rica.” Might as well just tell them everything. Sure, why not. Momo tried not to be scornful, she really did. 

“Good Lord, Momo! How do you even manage all that?” That was something Momo wondered herself. “It sure is nice you have Y/N to manage everything here for you while you’re away.”

A burning sensation grew at the corner of her eyes, she would’ve rubbed them if her hands weren’t full of forks and spoons. 

It was a seemingly unharmful statement. 

Well, no. 

There was a bite in there somewhere, Momo was just too exhausted to dissect it. 

Momo ignored the scratchy feeling in her throat and turned away hurriedly, mumbling something about getting the juice out. As she approached the refrigerator, she unceremoniously dropped the cutlery on the counter. She opened the fridge, the cold air doing little to alleviate her tension. When she pulled out the carton of apple juice, she was undertaken with the sudden urge to leave. Being at this gathering was taking more of a toll on her than she had thought.

Momo needed to be alone. Now.

She walked into the pantry and into the cabinet Y/N made sure to leave empty ever since they’d found out about her meditation space. Well, Momo thought bitterly, it wasn’t just a meditation space now, was it?

Momo crouched down, hugging her knees and seeking comfort in the familiar darkness. She could still hear the faint voices of people as they rushed around the house, but this was the best she could do right now.

When Momo closed her eyes, she could feel every muscle pull taut. A headache bloomed at her temple, building down her face until even the act of breathing felt painful. She tried to focus on the warm scent of the ciabatta loaves you always had stocked up. How the bread broke and crumbled as she took a bite. How adamant you’d been to get the best stand mixer available. How you took your time to shape the dough and how Momo had flattened it with one motion. 

What she wouldn’t do to just have a simple sandwich with you. 

No loud music. No clanging cutlery. And definitely no nosy neighbours.

Just the two of you.

The pain seemed to slowly ebb away, she could finally breathe. Momo had no idea how long she stayed like that. She didn’t want to leave but she couldn’t even text Y/N to apologise for leaving them alone because she’d forgotten her phone with her luggage.

However, she didn’t have to wait long before the pantry door opened. 

Momo hid herself deeper in the cabinet when a knock came on its door, an excuse ready on her lips should she be found…

“Momo,” your voice was soft, she wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t pressed to the door. “It's me.”

Momo visibly relaxed when she heard Y/N.

“Can I come in?”

The answer was the opening of the cabinet door.

As soon as you lowered yourself onto the floor, Momo launched herself into your arms, clutching onto you as though her life depended on it. Confused by the sudden outburst but also suspecting what could have brought it on, you just gathered her closer and gently brushed her hair with your fingers.

“How did you… ”

“Find you here? Couldn't see you in the crowd so I figured,” you shrugged.

“Can we... can we just stay here for a moment?” she sniffled, burrowing her head into your neck.

“Momo, you don’t even have to ask. I’m here for you.”

The two of you stayed like that for a long time intertwining your limbs against each other. You rubbed up and down her arms gently, taking deep breaths so she’d mirror you and relax.

When her breathing returned to a normal rate, you pulled back slightly to look at her face. Although still pale from hunger and exhaustion, she looked considerably better than she had a while ago.

“How’re you feeling?” you whispered.

“Still tired, but I’m okay now,” Momo said, her voice raspy. “Thanks for staying with me.”

You took a moment to take her in. The dim light couldn’t hide the bags under her eyes or how bloodshot they were. She had a pallid complexion, something you would’ve rushed to treat, but instead, you had this stupid meeting to run. But even then, Momo tried to put on a smile for you, as small as it was. Smiling, you pulled her in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. 

With a sigh, you pulled away from her. Her face was held up by your hands. “Although there hasn’t been any yelling or crashing yet, I don’t think it’s right to leave them without a host for too long.”

Momo languidly nodded her assent even when the rest of her body reacted differently. She pressed her forehead to yours until your noses were touching. 

Momo deserved to rest. And you wanted that for her too. If possible, you would have stayed here like this all night long. But alas… 

“I should probably head back,” you whispered. Momo only hummed. “but you can stay here longer if you—”

“No,” Momo mumbled. 

“No?” you asked, not wanting to pull away first. 

Momo did it for you. She exhaled a deep breath before pulling back, her eyes finally looking at you. 

“No, that's fine,” Momo said, shaking her head before helping herself up. Then she extended a hand to you. “We should host together, shouldn’t we?”

“We really should,” you took her hand and pulled yourself up. “I’ve already canceled this three times, I think they’d flip out if it was only me out there,” you said with a grimace. 

Holding hands, you exited the pantry together.

Thankfully, everyone was too caught up in the snacks you’d made to comment on your disappearance. Momo just ignored the few stares thrown her way. Making your way to the front of the living room, you called for everyone’s attention and began the town meeting, steadfastly holding onto Momo’s hand the entire time.

Although the townsfolk had also helped in clearing up after the meeting, there were a few things only you two could rearrange as the people living in the house. You wanted Momo to go upstairs and rest while you quickly cleaned up, but she was as stubborn as ever and refused to leave your side. Fortunately though, having two people definitely made the job go quicker, and before long, you were heading into the en-suite to draw a bath for Momo.

You turned off the hot water at the temperature you knew Momo liked most before adding a spoonful of lavender bath salts to the water, your gift to Momo from when she had returned from a mission complaining of sore muscles. She smiled gratefully at you as she slipped into the tub, leaving you to once again sit on the cold floor beside her. Not that you minded, you’d take any proximity you could get. The both of you just sat there, basking in the comfortable silence as Momo relieved her weary body.

Eventually, you spoke up, making sure to be cautious in the way you approached this topic. “Do you want to talk about what happened downstairs?”

Momo looked at you with a look, a knowing one, but she turned her eyes away quickly. 

“What? About Hector?” Momo managed to laugh, it almost sounded real. “Yeah, it was funny when he stood up and demanded we vote for a stop sign near the corner store, only to realize we’ve had it all along and he needed to change his glasses prescription.”

“Momo,” you took her hand that was laying on the edge of the bathtub. “Seriously.”

She finally turned to face you with a sigh, deciding not to run away this time. 

“I was doing as you said, the cutlery, that is,” Momo’s finger intertwined with yours, she trained her focus on your joint hands. “Someone was asking me questions, I don’t know who, asking about my job and where I’d been and whatnot… and then suddenly,” she paused to take a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears.

You brought your other hand to engulf hers and rubbed your thumb across the back of her hand in circular motions.

“Suddenly, out of nowhere, they said something about how I’m lucky to have you manage everything around here while I’m away,” she trailed off, a small scoff escaping her. Momo mumbled, but you caught every word. “Well, not out of nowhere, they are right. I am lucky. I’m never here.”

“Momo…” 

She continued, talking through her tears, not bothering to wipe them away as they slipped down her cheeks. 

“I just… you’re the one who always has to manage things around here. I just feel bad, you know?” Momo straightened, turning her whole body to face you as an odd resolve washed over her. “Like, I’m always busy flying around somewhere but you always accommodate me and my work. But I don’t do anything like that for you? Actually, what do I even do?” At that, you wanted to stop her, but she kept going. “I guess I feel incompetent? I’m just equal parts grateful for you but also, I feel guilty.”

That was a lot to take in. Momo was never one to bare her soul, so for her to say all this meant she had been bottling it up for quite some time.

“Well, I see it differently,” you leaned in as you formed the words in your mind. “You’re doing all this to provide for us and you work so hard for it. This house, everything we have, is all possible because of you. I could never be upset about that, Momo.” 

“I guess,” Momo sounded unconvinced. “But like maybe I could do more local work? That way, I could stay at home with you and work?”

“As tempting as that is, I can’t ask that of you. I can’t say I don’t miss you when you’re gone. And of course, I love having you around.” 

You spoke slower so the words sunk in. 

“But you’re doing what you have to do,” you tried to be as vague as possible when saying the next few words. “I mean, your company sends you all over the world because you’re a hard worker, and a really good one at that. No one is going to be able to do what you do anytime soon and I’m proud of that. Of you.” 

Momo didn’t say anything, she was staring at something behind your head. Her eyebrows were furrowed together; for once, you couldn’t tell what she was thinking. 

“But the work itself… ” she trailed off, still staring into the distance.

That confession, if that was what she was planning it to be, had you on alert. You had to be careful here. Somehow, you had to glean Momo’s feelings about her ‘actual job’ without asking outright questions about it. 

“What about the work, baby?” you asked. The term of endearment felt sour on your lips. Momo didn’t look at you. 

You had to bite your tongue from interrogating her. Is it monotonous? Is it stressful? Are you having second thoughts about killing? Do you want to be transferred? What’s wrong? What can I do? How can I fix it?

She didn’t speak for a long time. 

Panic was beginning to sink its claws into your skin. You were a good liar, but not that good. 

Fortunately for you, Momo began once again. 

“The work… I mean, sure, every job has its own boring routine and mine does too. It is exciting at times and I’m good at it too, which I can’t confidently say for a lot of other things,” you wanted to interrupt her and tell her how wonderful she was, but she spoke over you. “And I don’t really want to quit right now because we’re also earning decently.“ 

“Enough for an early retirement in the Swiss Alps, right?” you uttered before you could even think about it. 

When she had first been accepted as an agent by your organisation, Momo had excitedly jumped around your tiny one-bedroom flat. Making big talk about how the two of you would buy a cottage in the Swiss Alps and go skiing every day in the winter and strawberry picking every day in the summer.

Reminiscing about the memory bought a real smile out of her. “Exactly.”

But the smile slowly faded as she kept talking. “I just… wish I didn’t always have to keep traveling. I barely get a few days with you before I have to fly out again. And I know that’s a part of my job, it's just that this time around was too long.”

You silently agreed. What was the organisation thinking, making an agent go three weeks out in the field, one mission after the other. You don’t even recall how many cups of coffee you’d downed just to keep up with the time differences. 

“Well, you’re here now,” you placed a kiss over your joined hands. “And we’re going to make the most of it. Hopefully, you get more than a few days this time.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” she repeated, although she sounded anything but.

You bit back the long sigh and nudged her instead, looking for a way to divert her attention. “I couldn’t tell you before, but your pie’s waiting for you in the fridge.”

Momo sat up at that. You jerked back to narrowly avoid being splashed by water. “Me too! Well, not a pie but I did manage to bring back a dessert called Cajetas this time. I didn’t have time to taste it but the lady selling them told me they’re a staple.” 

Her eyes finally regained their usual shine at the mention of the two of you sharing desserts. It had been a longtime tradition for you to bake her favorites when she came back from a long journey, and for her to get local items you both could try together.

“Unfortunately, I’m too stuffed now,” she finally relaxed into the tub, tipping her head back. “Those finger sandwiches were delicious Y/N. What did you put in them?”

“Love,” you said dreamily, before pressing another kiss to the hand you were holding. Momo pulled away and cringed. “What, too much?” you laughed, “besides, I don’t think they were that amazing. You were just really hungry,” you said, poking her shoulder.

Momo just hummed as a comfortable silence fell over the pair of you.

Although the bathwater would’ve been cooler by now, she looked too comfortable to be asked to move. 

By the time Momo finally got out of the bathtub and into the towel you were holding out for her, the water had gone completely cold.

“Ugh, my skin is all wrinkly now”, she complained.

“Hmm I don’t know, it’s giving me a good idea of what you’d look like in another thirty years.”

“And?” she twirled around. “What do you think?”

You gave her a once over. “I think… I think I’ll stay with you for more than thirty years if that’s what you’re going to look like.”

After a quick change into your respective pajamas for the night (with you having to change again due to a mock water fight you two had), you ushered Momo into bed.

“Are you not sleeping now?” she asked, when you didn’t get into bed with her.

“Just about to, don’t worry,” you replied, straightening her edge of the comforter, effectively tucking her in.” Mariko asked for an order of cupcakes for her kindergarten class next Tuesday, so I’m just going to make a note of that before I forget.” 

She pouted, drawing out an arm from under the covers and pulling you down by your sleeve. Leaning down, you had no choice but to look right into her puppy-dog eyes, nearly shutting from exhaustion were it not for Momo resisting her body, fighting to stay open. “I wanted to cuddle but I’m already,” she broke off into a yawn, “falling asleep.”

You kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, I’ll be back before you know it,” you whispered.

“G’night,” she mumbled with drooping eyes.

Your demeanor changed the minute you left the bedroom, gently closing the door behind you. Throughout the evening, you’d noticed how burnt out Momo seemed, and this late-night conversation further proved that she desperately needed a rest. You grabbed your laptop and keyed in a call to your organization, late hours be damned.

“Hippolyta to HQ. Calling in regards to Agent 64.” You waited for the call to go through.

After a few minutes of having to listen to the ridiculous call tone they had put in (seriously why on earth would someone want to listen to that Piña Colada song while they waited to make a serious report), you were about to pull out your earpiece and give up when a bored robotic voice answered, “Hippolyta, your call has now been cued. State your report and wait for an agent.”

You cleared your throat before saying. “As her handler, I believe Agent 64 is in need of a short leave, allowing her time to recuperate and be mentally on track for any and all future missions.” Hopefully, that should be enough to get an agent connected to you.

After another couple minutes of listening to the godforsaken song, a voice sounded on the other end. “This is Baklava to Hippolyta. Your report has been recorded. Do you have other details you wish to share?”

“It’s exactly as I said before. I noticed a change in Agent 64’s behaviour and mental state through her last couple missions, and I believe it would do her good to take a temporary break.”

“Agent 64, huh? Let me see, I’ll pull up her file here.”

“Oho,” you heard after some shuffling on the other end of the call, “so this is the infamous Agent 64 and Hippolyta. I see. Well, I’m afraid I have to deny your inquiry and cannot grant her the break.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, surprised that a decision had been made so quickly. “Why?”

“Clearly, her being your wife makes it a point of personal interest. We can’t really have that, so she’ll continue on her missions as usual.”

“Excuse me, but in all these years, I have never let personal feelings get in between our working relationship.” You could feel your anger rising and had to be careful not to raise your voice too much, lest Momo wake up. “In fact, as her handler, I have made sure to push her exactly as much as she needed to get her missions done. She has a ninety-eight percent success rate, only possible because we don’t let personal feelings get in our way.” 

“Nah, but in this case, Agent 64 has not filed for a break herself. You doing this on her behalf shows vested interest.” 

You didn’t know if it was because of the late hour, but this conversation with Baklava was going nowhere and you were starting to get frustrated. You sighed.

“What’s the matter, Hippo, going soft for your wife? Is that it?” the voice sneered.

You saw red. No one except Momo was allowed to call you that. 

“Grant Agent 64 the break or else you’ll lose not only your best assassin but also one of your best handlers,” you gritted your teeth.

The line suddenly cut.

Fuck.

You didn’t really want to have to go through the whole process of reporting your inquiry again, but for Momo you would do it another hundred times.

Just then, a new voice was heard through your earpiece.

“Hippolyta, this is Shooting Guard. Your report has been transferred over to me.”

Shooting Guard… the name was familiar to you.

“Hippolyta speaking. Not sure how much of my report was transferred over but it’s in regards to Agent 64.”

“Oh yes, I know about your wife, Hippolyta. What’s the matter?”

It suddenly hit you. Of course Shooting Guard was a familiar name. He had been an agent a year above you at the training centre, a hardworking and calculative senior, but friendly once you got to know him.

“Well, I know the organisation has been working through some things right now—” you heard a scoff on the other end, “but 64 has been on individual missions for three weeks straight. She would never say this outright but I can tell the constant travel is getting to her. As… as her handler of course, not her partner,” you hurried to add, lest you were misunderstood once again.

To your surprise Shooting Guard said, “I believe that being her spouse makes you all the more attuned to how she’s doing Hippolyta. And with your spotless record so far, having a spouse as a handler doesn’t seem to be working negatively at all.”

“Does that mean you can get her leave approved?” you asked, hopeful.

“Well, that’s the difficult part. In your words, the organisation is working through things right now,” he chuckled without mirth.  

“Please, just get her a psych eval or something. Anything that grants her a break,” you were coming across as pleading when you should have been firm, but Momo’s wellbeing was at stake here.

“Let me see what I can do.” You heard him hum as he clicked on various files, rearranging calendars and rescheduling appointments, no doubt, before he finally broke the silence.

“I can give her two weeks. That fine?”

“More than fine. Truly, thank you, Shooting Guard,” the stress visibly left your shoulders.

“Don’t mention it. The agents around here need a fucking break anyways.”

You logged off the call once you got the final approval that your report had been accepted. You couldn’t wait to see Momo’s joyous face when she would break the news to you tomorrow. But for now, sleep was calling.

As you made your way back upstairs, a smile spread across your face at the thought of spending the next two weeks with your wife. When you entered your bedroom, Momo was fast asleep, sprawled across the large bed, somehow taking up enough space for two people. You shook your head fondly as you turned off the lights, slipping in beside her. As if sensing your presence, she pressed herself closer to you, wanting to be together even in sleep. You looped an arm around her torso and held her tight. 

Yes, you certainly were excited to spend two weeks with her. But most of all, you were glad your bed would be warm with her presence again.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: so that poll... y'all be impatient as fuck (and i be lazy as fuck bc i think i was the only one who voted for this being split JLDFKSHFK) anyways happy misamo day and have a good day/night !!

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @happilychaengs

[happilychaengs]

loser's game | jh

pairing: jihyo x reader

genre: (questionable) comedy

word count: 6.1k

warnings: descriptions of blood, gore, violence. includes popular monsters/villains from horror movies. 

summary: when you and jihyo lose spectacularly as the mafias in the mafia game, you are both are forced to endure a horror house as punishment.

a/n: this started on feb 20, 2021... finally finished on oct 31, 2024 ·_· the banner is so serious for such a ridiculous fic, im sorry. this was inspired (100% stolen and copied) from run bts, going seventeen, and time to twice — like it is literally scene for scene going seventeen the tag. anyways thanks to my gorl indigo (@eternallyghosting) for correcting the shit out of my spelling...it was bad. and happy diwali and halloween (diwalloween if you will)

A soft curse escaped your lips as you observed the meticulously decorated building in front of you.  

Granite statues of goblins guarded the front steps, which seemed like they were a second away from falling apart. Along with their pointed ears and wrinkled foreheads, they had a grotesque grin etched across their face, more to showcase their rows of sharp teeth instead of a welcoming smile. The worst part was their eyes, hidden away from the rain by protruding eyebrows, they were caved in and greasy, making them twinkle in the night. 

The stairs were also of the same stone, splattered with what you hoped was dirt and grime, leading up to the entrance of the mansion. Beside them, led a staircase to the right side of the house all the way up to the upper floor. It was a beautiful house, truly, with its high roofs and many windows. Maybe in its prime, you would have been able to appreciate its beauty, maybe even dreamed of staying in such a place. 

However, in the darkness of the night, the pastel pink walls turned into an ugly shade of grey similar to a trodden sidewalk. It didn’t help that the paint was cracked and peeling to show the large splotches of mould. Then there were the overgrown vines spewing over the railing beside the entrance and crawling up the walls, reaching the open windows which creaked eerily with wind, barely hanging on. 

It was the type of house the protagonist of a horror movie would have to move into at the start of the film. Even with cleardistaste for the house and the knowledge of its past from the neighbours or rumours, they’d choose to stay there. The mere sight of it had you wrapping your arms around your stomach and pulling at your overcoat. 

For a random haunted house at an amusement park, they had spent quite the money to make it look…convincing. 

Beside you, Jihyo’s torso heaved as she inhaled and exhaled deeply, allowing a misty cloud to escape her lips. When she was done collecting herself, she spun on the balls of her feet as she proclaimed. “We’ll do the dishes, Jeongyeon! And vacuuming! For a week!” 

Normally, you would’ve nudged Jihyo, gesturing that you wanted nothing to do with cleaning duties. What with Jeongyeon breathing down your neck for every second of it? Absolutely not, you did not have a death wish. However, considering your current predicament, between cleaning with Jeongyeon badgering you every second or entering this haunted house of horrors, you would easily pick the former.  

Nayeon scoffed at Jihyo’s pathetic attempt at bargaining which caused you to turn as well. Next to the oldest, stood Jeongyeon with her hands in her pockets, completely relaxed at the knowledge of her friend’s imminent suffering. Beside the pair, stood Sana and Momo, who clung to each other for any sort of warmth during this late October night. However, there was no warmth in their mischievous eyes.

When Jeongyeon’s face stayed as expressive as the stone behind you, Jihyo continued with hands clasped in front of her chest. “Seriously! For two weeks, then?” 

But, of course, Jeongyeon was not easily convinced. 

“No,” Jeongyeon said with a composed smile as her eyes moved from the begging girl to you, who remained as stiff as a board. “Neither of you can properly clean. It’s just more work for me.” 

Nayeon folded her arms as her eyes flitted to the ground to suppress the cackle that would surely burst out. Jihyo’s clasped hands parted, shaking as they dropped. The corner of her lip twitched as she straightened herself, the facade of a begging innocent transformed into a character dead set on spilling blood.  

Before that could happen, finally coming to your senses, you offered. “I’ll pay for dinner.” 

Jeongyeon tilted her chin up to consider. Even Jihyo turned, waiting for you to continue. 

“I’ll pay for tonight,” you nod, resolving yourself. You need to sound confident. “Dinner at the new restaurant that opened down the street. Tzuyu wanted to go there, I’ll pay!”

Sana and Momo started giggling like schoolchildren at the thought of free food, while Nayeon nodded her head with satisfaction, convinced. However, Jeongyeon only raised an eyebrow at the offer, clearly mulling it over. The only thing that could distract the group of demons you call friends is food, they were primitive that way. You turned to meet Jihyo’s stare, which was oddly inexpressive, but all of you knew better than that. It was all just a mask, to cover the rage simmering right underneath, waiting to be unleashed. 

“No,” Jeongyeon said with a clenched half-smile, one that would accompany an apology, but she looked anything but apologetic. 

Right next to you, a shrill yowl erupted that nearly shattered your eardrum. Instinctively, you shifted and threw your arms around Jihyo’s waist. Fortunately, you’d caught Jihyo just before she could pounce and tear out Jeonyeon’s bleached hair strand by strand. Although, with the way she thrashed in your arms she was only a second away from escaping and doing just that, maybe you’d even join in. Nayeon let out that cackle while Sana and Momo continued to giggle, all at the sight of their friend going absolutely feral. What must’ve irritated Jihyo even more though was that Jeongyeon stood in the middle, completely unaffected. 

“You set us up!” Jihyo shrieked, but the ringing in your ear didn’t deter you from your task. “Jeongyeon, you set us up!”

Joining Jihyo, but also tightening your hold on her, you agree. “She’s right! You purposely put Chaeyoung as the police and Dahyun as the doctor, while Jihyo and I were the mafia. Obviously, we’d lose!”

“Lies and defamation,” Jeonyeon shook her head before placing her hand over her heart, “I did no such thing. I would never, ever, do that.”

“Or maybe you’re just bad at playing mafia!” Sana said, sticking her tongue out. Momo let loose more giggles while Nayeon let out another hearty cackle, this time, smacking Jeongyeon’s shoulder in the process.

“As if you’re any better!” Jihyo growled, panting but still caged in your arms. “As if you–”

“What’s going on?” Mina’s small voice asked as she came over, holding two ginormous sticks of cotton candy. Behind her, the three youngest members of your circle followed like little ducklings after their mother. 

Dahyun was busy counting leftover change and checking bills to see if everything was accounted for. Chaeyoung and Tzuyu, on the other hand, lugged in more carnival food—enough snacks to skip dinner. Of course, they’d never actually skip dinner. They’ve bought buckets of popcorn as if they’re out to watch a movie, which was true in a way, your misery will be their entertainment. 

Sighing at the image, you accepted your fate. 

Momo eagerly took a stick of cotton candy from Mina, while Nayeon answered. “Jihyo and Y/N are trying to weasel their way out of their punishment, you know, like a bunch of weasels.” 

Nayeon shook her head with two fingers pinching the bridge of her nose in feigned disappointment. Mina flashed her gummy smile just as a carnival worker came out to call you. Jihyo turned to offer a small bow, as your friends began to holler. The woman arrived with two selfie sticks in her hand attached to cameras and handed them to the two of you. She offered a kind smile, completely missing the dread swirling in your eyes.

“Welcome to Mysterious Mansion! Your objective is to find the four keys necessary to escape the mansion in under thirty minutes. That’s it!” She said with a small shrug and you narrowed your eyes at that obvious lie. “Once you enter, there will be a map of the mansion to your right as well as a few rules outlining the gameplay, please read them before proceeding. When the two of you are ready, just raise your hands above your head and you’ll hear a buzzer which will be the start of your time. 

“As for the rest of the group,” the woman leaned to Jihyo’s right to offer a kind smile to your already snacking friends, “please follow me to the back where you can watch them play the game.” 

When the girls hollered, you slowly turned to Jihyo’s stare. There was a mismatch of emotions passing through them, none of which you could make any sense of, apart from the fact that neither of you wanted to do this.

One last attempt at a saving grace, your eyes landed on the cost for one run of thirty minutes. It was quite pricey. “Damn guys, this punishment looks like it will be really expensive, instead I’ll just buy dinner—”

“Just go already,” Tzuyu deadpanned to your offer, her voice muddled as she munched on popcorn. 

“Plus, we paid in advance. All of us!” Dahyun added in her chirpy manner. 

“Right, of course, you did,” you muttered to yourself. “Why did I even bother?”

What were the five stages of grief? Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance? Yeah, well it was about time you accepted your demise. Jihyo must’ve come to the same conclusion after having gone from being scared to offering to clean to going absolutely mad, completely skipping the depression stage as an odd light filled her eyes. 

“Thirty minutes, right?” You snapped to your right at Jihyo’s words. “What’s the record time?” 

“Eight minutes!” The worker said in an unnecessarily chirpy tone. “Three guys made it out in a flash, best run we’ve seen!”

Jihyo mumbled something and nodded to herself while Nayeon began to snigger, completely aware that Jihyo’s competitive spirit would be a thousand times worse than whatever was waiting for you inside. 

Jihyo offered her empty hand and you sighed dejectedly as you took it, your fingers quickly entangling. Your so-called friends giggled and howled like the irritating children they were, offering encouragement that was mostly empty. You were sure Jeongyeon had a wicked grin plastered on her face, you didn’t have to turn around to know that. 

With a camera stick in your left hand and your right in Jihyo’s, the two of you approached the steps. You tried to drown yourself in the giddy laughter of little children visiting the carnival, the same overplayed pop music blaring from speakers, and the vibrant flashing lights adorned on various rides to remind yourself that the horror house you were entering was just another ride. None of it was real, and you were not going to get hurt. As the worker put it; just find the keys and escape, that’s it. Simple. 

With a final few rowdy howls from the young college girls, the entrance to the mansion closed behind you. To say the place was dark would be an understatement. You could just barely make out the grand stairs leading to the upper floor, and by baseless deduction, you assumed there were rooms on either side of the staircase because right now all you could see was black. Jihyo squeezed your hand and you stopped staring blindly into the abyss to stare at something you could see. 

As the worker had mentioned, there was a map to your right. It was lit up by flickering yellow light and detailed both floors. There were a total of six rooms aside from the three bathrooms, the kitchen, the dining room, and the main hall. Basically, the place was ginormous—again, quite the budget for an amusement ride. The exit was marked with a large red ‘X’ on the upper floor. 

Jihyo quickly read aloud the rules as you let out another dejected sigh, bringing up the camera to glare at it, you mumbled. “You know this is all your fault?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jihyo scoffed, turning to you before yanking her hand out of your clasp. “My fault? If anything, this is your fault?” 

“Oh, please enlighten me.” You replied, throwing your arms up, sending a scathing glare her way, though she probably couldn’t see it well. 

“If you didn’t look so suspicious, then—”

A loud buzzer sounded and the two of you froze—both of your hands had been raised, even if it was only for a second!—as the dim yellow lights changed instantly to hues of crimson. 

Jihyo’s hand grabbed yours and brought it down before interlocking fingers again. She then hissed as she took the first step. “If you didn’t look so damn suspicious, then you would’ve lasted more than two rounds and we would’ve won.”

“That’s just my face! If I smile too much I’m suspicious, if I don't smile at all I’m still suspicious! What am I supposed to do?” You hissed back, squeezing her hand tightly. Clearly, both of you have regressed back from acceptance to anger. “And what about—let’s go left—what about you?”

Jihyo turned left, dragging you along, and entered a grand dining room. In the centre of the room stood a large mahogany table, large enough to feed eight people and was neatly adorned with plates. If you squinted, you could make out the beautiful patterns on the plates and the intricate engraved details on the ends of the cutlery.

Letting Jihyo lead you around the table, you continued. “What about you, huh? The second Nayeon mentioned your name, you blew up. It was clearly a trap, and you walked right into it!” 

Jihyo sighed, leering over the table to check for a key among the silverware, and admitted. “I should’ve killed Dahyun after you were voted out.” 

Dahyun was too good of a doctor and managed to save everyone you tried to kill. If Jihyo had taken her out, that would’ve given the mafias an easy win. You grumbled your agreement while eyeing the strange baroque painting at the end of the dinner table. 

The painting was of a woman in a silk gown, glancing to her left, wholly uninterested in the elaborate platter she held. Strange since the platter held a severed head. The man was bearded, his mouth frozen agape in shock as his sockets had been carved out, devoid of eyes. He was adorned with pomegranates, grapefruits, and plums—the juice of the fruit and the blood from his neck pooled and dripped down the woman’s hands, soaking into her sleeves. What a terribly morbid painting, it disgusted you but for some reason, you couldn’t look away. Deciding to search the table along with Jihyo, you opted for one last glance. 

Probably the worst decision you’ve ever made, as your heart nearly burst through your ribcage. 

The woman’s eyes in the painting looked straight at you. 

If Jihyo sensed you crushing her hand in a panic, then she ignored it. Instead, she shuffled around, tugging you, and aggressively prodded the table with the camera stick, prioritizing finding a key over a broken hand or the camera. Not trusting your voice, you nudged Jihyo to warn her, unable to break your gaze from the painting. Of course, completelyused to your irritating behaviour, she overlooked it. Jihyo only offered low grunts, much like a caveman, when you nudged her more frantically, panicking after you caught sight of the blood dripping from the painting and onto the floor. 

Jihyo was about to reach her limit from all your nudging, especially when she was the only one trying to find the keys. You knew she was preparing to give you a verbal lashing when suddenly she went taut under your grasp. Jihyo let out a guttural scream, loud enough to break the sound barrier, and jumped a meter into the air. In response to that, a horrid screech escaped from you and as you were still very much stuck to Jihyo, you were yanked harshly out of the dinner hall. 

“There was something under—something grabbed my leg!” Jihyo repeated frantically, shivers passing through her body as she ran back to the entrance. Jihyo let go of your hand, though with a lot of difficulty, to try opening the door. No such luck because the door was locked shut.

You swore profusely, before obsessively jangling the door handle with your now free hand. Rage had quickly enveloped your fear and this was the only way to let out your frustration—bullying an inanimate object. You sent a kick to the handle after trying to slam the door open with your shoulder. When these failed, you finally acknowledged what had already been proven. “Damn it, we have to find those stupid keys!”

“Should we split up?” Jihyo asked, already studying the map, while you glimpsed at the dining room. It was difficult in the dark, but you were sure you saw a shadow moving. “How about you take the ground floor, and I’ll take the other?” 

Jihyo glanced at you as if she was offering you the better option as if she was being generous. Yeah, the ground floor had fewer rooms, but that was only because the rooms were larger. Plus, the dining room, kitchen, and the main hall were all open spaces. Your only proper refuge would be the smallest bathroom, which was at the very far end to the right. 

You were just about to decline and suggest you stay together when something—well someone—came growling from the kitchen. The two of you screamed as much as your lungs would allow you. Without a second of hesitation, Jihyo bolted up the stairs still yelling, successfully leaving you for dead.

Well, guess you would be taking the ground floor then. 

Personifying the fight in the fight or flight response, you wielded your camera stick like a bat and stood your ground. You jumped side to side on the balls of your feet, swinging the makeshift bat as the monster came to a slow stop in front of you. It was too dark for you to make out the costume and makeup, but with the tufts of fur and leaves hanging from the torso, you’d assume this was some sort of swamp monster. Perhaps you would have criticised how a swamp monster took away from the immersive experience considering you were in an elaborately decorated mansion, but at the time, you were too busy screaming to think of such things. 

“I swear I will hit you—don’t come closer!” You shrieked, with only the stick in between you and your murderer. 

Whoever this poor actor was, was probably not paid enough to do this every night, especially with the makeup and heavy costume, but right now, that wasn’t your biggest worry. If this person were to make any sudden move, you were more than ready to whack the life out of them. You could live with that. Covering their medical bills and assault charges will be a problem for you in the future. 

The two of you circled each other until your back was to the dining room entrance and you let yourself be backed into the room. However, the second your back hit a chair, you grabbed whatever silverware you could find and hurled it in your attacker’s direction. Lucky for you, the cutlery was not attached to the table, or worse, made out of porcelain. The spoons, knives, and forks clattered to the ground while you dashed to your left, moving to the kitchen. 

There was a strange bubbling noise but you decided to return to this place when you’re not so close to being killed. You exited the kitchen through its proper entrance and opened the door on the left. It was a small storage room, littered with nothing but a few discarded canvases on the floor—you don’t remember this room on the map. 

Oh, also, there was a crying woman in white, huddled in the corner. 

Greeting her with a quick bow, you immediately shut the door before you could register what you’d seen. Ignoring the violent shudder that passed through your spine, you ran back towards the main entrance, just about to cross the staircase to follow through with the plan you never agreed to when a blood-curdling scream came from the first floor. 

Your self-sacrificing instincts kicked in and you climbed two steps at a time while cursing your feet which carried your body towards Jihyo’s screams. Crashing into the first door on your right, you burst into the room screaming all the while swinging your camera stick strong enough to make baseball stars weep… only to find Jihyo backing her assailant to a corner. 

You paused, chest heaving violently, as you witnessed Jihyo in her warpath. Her hands were clenched in tight fists as she stomped forward, making the poor actor back up. She let loose those guttural gnarls that would have one’s throat grating as if someone were pulling it taut. Surely, by the end of your punishment, Jihyo would end up with a sore throat that no amount of honey could cure. Her attempt at asserting dominance slowed down to snarls and hissing before she came to a stop at the sight of surrender. You would have been impressed had she not looked completely mad. 

Jihyo heaved and moved back to the enormous bed in the room, with her eyes still trained on the poor zombie, who tried to become one with the wall. When she sat down, huge plumes of dust wafted into the air and she began coughing violently but had no energy to move away. 

Catching yourself on the door frame seeing that Jihyo had saved herself, you whimpered out. “Got all your anger out now?” 

Both the actor and Jihyo stiffened at your voice before Jihyo said. “I’m going to kill Jeongyeon.” 

You cringed at Jihyo’s hoarse voice, which was nothing but air, she seemed to speak every word as if it pained her. You close your eyes to collect yourself before asking. “Did you find a key?” 

Jihyo wordlessly raised her hand, holding a whole ring of keys, glinting in what little moonlight the tattered curtains allowed. You gasped and walked forward, reaching over the bed to take them. Ignoring the dust being released when you dropped your camera stick carelessly, you counted the number of keys. There were exactly four, all seeming to be in different colours, shapes, and sizes. One of them even had the number three on it. 

Before you could ask, Jihyo pointed behind her and croaked. “Drawer.”

You repeatedly muttered okay to yourself, giddy to finally be free from this mad house. 

So giddy, that you failed to notice the traumatised actor in the corner shaking their head when you exited the bedroom. Getting a head start, you made it down the corridor and found the room where the exit was supposed to be. You opened one door and were met with four other doors. Two to your left, one to your right, and a metal one in front of you. Otherwise, the room was completely barren. 

This was not good. All of these doors were closed meaning you had no idea what monstrosity was hiding behind them. Hearing the muttered curses and stomping, you know Jihyo wasn’t far behind. Quickly, you pulled apart the ring, separated the four keys, and laid them out in the same order with key number three in its place. The door right in front of you was clearly the exit, as it had four coloured and numbered squares with keyholes in the centre.

What do you know? The colours of the keys matched the squares!

Even then, your mind in all its excitement failed to see the obvious trap, like it had failed to predict Jeongyeon’s plans to frame you and Jihyo. You hurried and put all the keys in their respective holes, some with difficulty, with you standing in front of keyhole numbers one and two while Jihyo was in front of the others. With one last glance at Jihyo, you tried the first key.

Except that it didn’t turn. 

“No,” Jihyo mumbled before harshly turning key number three which worked. She tried turning key number four but it wouldn’t budge, she pulled it out and threw it to the ground. “Damn it!” 

Right at that moment, the door on your left swung open revealing a person with the Jason Voorhees mask and a machete to match. Once again, in unison, you and Jihyo were screaming as much as your lungs would allow. However, this time, both of you bolted out the door you’d entered and Jihyo closed the door behind you just in time, so your attacker couldn’t come. Panting, you leaned on the wall by the door, hand wrapped around Jihyo’s own hand which clung to the door handle. 

“Swamp monster, crying ghost, zombie, and Jason,” you count out as you catch your breath. “Four monsters so far, you think that’s it? Four keys, four doors, four monsters?”

Jihyo, panting herself, nodded. “Has to be.” 

“We need to get those stupid keys,” you sighed. Even panicked and running high on adrenaline, you could feel your fear giving way to frustration. You were ready to get this game over with. “I didn’t find any, but I’m assuming it's two per floor.” 

Jihyo nods again, while her attention is on the door, pressing her ear to make sense of the killer behind. But it was silent. 

“Do you want to stay here, and I can find the keys on the first floor?” 

“I’d be a sitting duck,” Jihyo shook her head. “I’ll ransack the top floor, there are still the bathrooms.”

“Dining hall is a red herring with too many clues,” you said, unsure if the room was to be misleading, but it definitely was a waste of time. “I’ll recheck the kitchen and main hall.” 

You glance back at the door and frown. 

“Give me some time before running to the bathrooms, I don’t have places to hide downstairs,” you say and gently take your hand from the door handle, shaking off your nerves. 

Again, Jihyo nodded as she leaned beside the door, taking your place. 

Nodding back at her, you headed towards the stairs. Forgoing the steps, you sat on the railing and quickly slid down, landing easily at the bottom. Your first location was the kitchen. 

You knew the swamp monster had to be waiting in the dining room for you. As well as the crying ghost in the nearby storage room. You’d take your chances with the ghost any day. Taking the route from the back, you entered the kitchen. Walking to the nearest cabinet, you tugged on the handle—it was glued shut. Nodding to yourself, you squinted at the marble counters for anything, nothing seemed to stand out apart from the bubbling pot on the stove, lit up by a flame—it was a light, not real fire. 

A shuffle in the dining room, made you snap your neck to the left. Your eyes, like magnets, turned to the eyes of the morbid painting, glaring into you. Any moment, the swamp monster would return. Turning your attention to the pit, you lifted the lid to see stagnant liquid—so the bubbling was just a recorded sound—that helped break the immersiveness. Rolling up your sleeve and steeling yourself, you stuck your hand in the freezing cold water—or what felt like water. You were grateful for the low viscosity, anything else, and you would have given up finding the key. 

Speaking of, your fingers brushed against shaped metal and pulled out a handful of keys. Cringing at the metallic clangs and clinks as you dropped the wet keys on the counter, you easily found the only key that had a number on it. 

Just as you pocketed the key, the swamp monster made itself known. 

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered and tipped the pot over. They really should glue that down too. 

Water splashed onto the tiled floor, covering the space between you and the monster. Yes, there was another door leading straight to the main foyer from the dining room, but the distraction was all you needed for time. 

Taking the back entrance again, you sprinted out of the kitchen, past the main foyer, and into the room you’ve never been to before. The main hall. 

The moment you entered you had to clasp your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from shrieking.

Every corner of the room, every shelf, every breathing space from the mantle of the fireplace to the couch to the emptyspace of the majestic piano were seated with antique dolls. Dolls of all kinds, and colours, and clothes with their glassy eyes and rosy cheeks and perfectly brushed hair. Not to mention that all the oil paintings of young girls, similar to the antique dolls taking up every inch of the walls. 

Somehow this was worse than the painting that dripped blood onto the floor. 

But much like that painting, it was like all their eyes followed you. That couldn’t be. 

The dolls’ eyes were all looking in one direction, up at the paintings. And the paintings looked up at the ceiling, following them, your head tilted up. 

If you didn’t have trypophobia before, you certainly did now. 

The ceiling was filled with magnificent glass-painted lights, barring the eye-like structures all clustered to look into a direction. Letting the hairs on your neck raise, you followed down the ceiling to the back of the room, once again met with paintings on the wall as your eyes landed on something marginally worse. 

A clown. 

Gulping so loud, you stayed frozen. 

Had the actor just waited until you figured out the eyes?

Their grin widened as their head tilted in an almost robot-like manner. 

Trypophobia and clowns were not fears you expected to gain tonight, but life works in mysterious ways. 

“Come on, man,” you hoped to sound a little relaxed, but with the way your voice shook, you’re doubtful cool confidence came across well. 

When the actor’s grin only widened, you let out a pained whine, like a child throwing a tantrum.

Regressing to your throwing habits, you glanced at the dolls. If they weren’t glued to their places, and also if they weren’t porcelain, you could kick a few to the ground as a distraction. However, touching or holding any part of the dolls matched with those lifeless dead eyes, chubby rosy cheeks, and coloured pouting lips was a thousand times more revolting than facing discount Pennywise. 

“I will swing the camera stick and I know you’re not getting paid enough to take that,” you bartered instead, both hands on the camera stick, once again like a bat. 

The actor chuckled and shook his head. “It happens more often than you think, even though it's against the rules.”

“Rules?” you question, camera stick slightly lowering. 

“The ones under the map,” he offered. 

“Shit, yeah. No, we didn’t have time to read those,” you frowned, completely dropping your stick to your side. “Assuming, we’re not supposed to throw and spill stuff either?”

“Generally, not proper etiquette but it happens,” he shrugged. The casual action was so odd when he was dressed as a horrifying killer clown. 

“Really sorry about that,” you frown deeper with a sigh but he only shakes his head, dismissing your apology with a wave of his hand. 

“You’re all good,” he smiled. Now, you knew he was trying to be friendly and accommodating, but in his make-up, his grin was chilling. It was exactly the reminder you needed. 

Lifting up the stick, almost as if going into an act yourself, you steeled your nerves. The clown followed you as he lowered himself, his eyes narrowing while his grin widened. “Where’s the key?” you asked. 

You were sure he was about to recite some quote from the source material, or just something to elevate his performance. However, both of us were distracted by the ear-shattering scream that could only be Jihyo’s. Perhaps, you’d have jumped the couch and run to her, that is if she wasn’t swearing like a sailor. 

Knowing she had herself covered, you used the distraction to run. The clown followed. 

Maneuvering in a room filled with dolls was difficult, but it was difficult for the clown as well. Following the eyes and where the clown had just been was key number two, all the eyes had been pointing towards it. Such a simple find, but the dolls and clown were such huge deterrents. 

In a sprint, you made a grab for the key notcaring as you rustledsome dolls and exited the main hall. Swamp monster, much like a game character, was waiting at the entrance to the dining room, and themoment he saw you run to the stairs, he was activated. 

“Jihyo, get to the door!” You screamed climbing the stairs two at a time and ignoring the fact that swamp monster and Pennywise himself were on your trail. Jihyo’s answer was only a snarl back, no doubt fending herself from Jason Voorhees. 

Making a quick right, you entered the room and sprinted straight to the metal door. Jihyo was in some circling match with Jason Voorhees as you slotted in key number two and turned it. When you slotted key number one and turned, the swamp monster, the clown, and the zombie piled into the room. 

“Jihyo!” You shoved open the door, which to your embarrassment, while coloured like metal, was not metal, so you nearly planted head-first into the ground when it swung open with ease. 

Catching yourself on the corroded metal railing, Jihyo followed you out and slammed the door shut. Both of you panted, staring at each other as noises from the carnival once again surrounded you. The back of the mansion was… barren to put it kindly. 

None of the money that was spent at the entrance and inside was spared for the back. It looked merely like a storage container. 

You crumpled to the floor, leaning on the railing, and sighed. Your camera stick fell by your thigh with a thunk as Jihyo closed her eyes. You were done. You made it out. 

“Well done, losers!” 

You looked over your shoulder, following the taunt and the clapping. Nayeon giggled as Jeongyeon slowly clapped from the ground. 

“Come down!” Jeongyeon said with a blinding grin as you pulled yourself up to stand. By the way, Jihyo held her jaw, you knew she was seething. However, she was far too exhausted to do anything. 

The pair of you took the stairs down and headed into a smaller shed by the mansion followed by Nayeon and Jeongyeon. Inside, the rest of your friends were gathered as well as the worker who had greeted you. The room was filled with cameras inside the mansion, two screens still transmitting from your camera sticks even as you handed them over.  

“Good job!” The worker said with a forced smile, though you glanced behind her. One of the cameras caught the swamp monster pulling off his mask and taking a seat on one of the chairs while Jason Voorhees just flopped to the floor, his head tilted to the ceiling. All the while Pennywise and the zombie helped clean their respective rooms with the help of cleaners. 

“We’re sorry,” you sighed, Jihyo only nodded, her eyes were still narrowed. She looked anything but apologetic, but you knew she was. “Adrenaline just—poof, you know?”

“It’s alright,” the worker sighs, her taut smile dipping more into a genuine one. “It happens.”

“Yeah, Pennywise said that,” you gave her a small smile. “Good experience, good game. Terrified the shit out of us.”

You ignored the way your friends laughed behind you.

“Please rate us well on the website,” you nodded as the worker pointed out a QR code printed out on the wall. 

While Jeongyeon pulled out her phone to do that, Jihyo sighed and stepped forward. “What was our time?” 

There was no point in asking. The pair of you definitely did not beat the eight-minute record. 

With a frown, the worker answered. “Twenty-seven minutes and fifty-four seconds—”

“Twenty-eight minutes,” Jihyo’s entire form deflated like a burst balloon. You rolled your eyes at her while your friends laughed. 

Instead, you asked a question that bugged you most as you studied the camera screens. 

“Where is the fifth one? Ghost lady?” 

The worker frowned as your friends became silent. Both you and Jihyo looked around to meet everyone’s faces, their expressions ranging from confusion to apprehension. 

“The one in the storage room? She was crying,” you prompted again, glancing back at the cameras to see the four monsters now all in the dining room picking up the utensils you spilt. 

When the worker cleared her throat, you and Jihyo turned back. Her face ashen as she gulped. 

“There is no crying ghost.”

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: i believe the house was based off of coraline house and the painting i described was judith slaying holofernes by artemisia gentileschi :] gonna go binge gose now, good day/night everybody !

tagging: @someone-who-likes-broccoli

[happilychaengs]

wtf i got a tumblr notification saying my blog is 2 years old today 😭 i could do something for 2 years if anyone’s got suggestions

[happilychaengs]

tzuyu is so beautiful omg

[happilychaengs]

.

[happilychaengs]

THANK YOU FOR THE MOMO FIC I'VE BEEN SO IN LOVE WITH MOMO LATELY I CAN'T GET GER OFF OF MY MIND

NO PROBLEM

MOMO RECENTLY HAS BEEN EVEN PRETTIER SO I GET YOU 🙏🙏

[happilychaengs]

pi(e)ning

a/n: i have not written anything in so long so this might be the worst thing ever, sorry! this really is all over the place

wc: 1975 words

hirai momo x gender neutral reader

"can you just go marry your neighbor already?"

sana's mouth is chock full with blueberry pie, a small moan and a 'god' coming out of her mouth as she keeps taking bites from her fork, "like, this pie – i can't  – it's just so good and you got this for free! free has never tasted so good."

"haha." you cut out a slice from the pie, your fork stabbed at the top, "i actually haven't tried this yet."

sana squirms in her seat from the flavors she's shoving in her mouth, her head almost on a swivel as she takes another bite, a tight smile on her face, "you need to, like right now." 

you pick up the fork as you take a bite of the pie, the crust crumbling in your mouth as you relish in the sweet,slightly sour, and tart flavor that hits the base of your tongue. sana looks at you in anticipation, her eyebrows raised, “well?”

“it’s – it’s really good.” you laugh in disbelief as you take another bite, “do you want to take this home, actually?” 

she gives you a look of wonder, as if you’d just given her a million dollars, “you’re joking – seriously? i mean, are you sure? i wouldn’t mind, but, y’know-”

“yes, i’m serious, sana.” you put down your fork, “momo gives me something new practically everyday now, and i can’t really finish it. i love it all, but it’s sometimes too much for me to eat it all.”

-

“don’t you think this is a bit excessive?” nayeon rests her head over her roommate’s shoulder, looking at the flour spread all over the kitchen counter, her eyes squinting as a bit flies into her face from her roommate kneading the dough around. she coughs slightly as she steps back, “okay. mind explaining what this is all about, momo? i wouldn’t mind if you cleaned up, but you do this almost everyday and never clean up. i always have to pick up after you.”

“i’m making fresh banana bread for someone.” she lets the dough rest in a bowl as she turns to face nayeon, leaning back on the kitchen counter. nayeon looks confused, “who? because i know it’s not me. we literally always have an empty fridge.”

“it’s – it’s for y/n.” momo turns her head away, staring at the resting dough and avoiding nayeon’s eyes, “are you talking about our neighbor? why? do you like them or something?” nayeon laughs, slightly teasing her, but all she gets is silence. “seriously? how?”

it’s not like momo had any real reason to like you, she just did. she had just opened her bakery, and you so happened to be the first person to try it and to really like it, so it never really stopped considering she figured out you two lived next door to each other. with each and every new pastry she gave you, you accepted it happily, and it made her like you even more.

“i’m… going to guess it has to do with your baking, because you are nonstop giving y/n something from our kitchen.” nayeon wipes the flour off her nose as she walks back to her room, “just please clean up, at least.”

-

there’s two rhythmic knocks on your door as sana goes to get it since you’re in the shower, her not expecting it to be anything out of the ordinary. 

“hi, who is it?” sana chirps as her head pops out from the side of the door, surprised as she sees a woman holding a large bag of bread and a bit of flour on her face. “are you momo?”

momo’s face was full of surprise as she didn’t expect someone else to open the door for her, “uh, yeah. how do you know who i am?”

“y/n told me all about you! thank you so much for the food you always give them! it’s always really good!” sana rains compliments on momo, but momo is more focused on the fact that you have another woman over and it seemed like you two were really close.

“right, um, i – where’s y/n? i just wanted to hand them the banana bread i made.” momo tries to steer away from sana, feeling almost a bit uncomfortable being near her because she doesn’t know what type of relationship you two have, but sana grabs the bag out of momo’s hand, leaving it on the table, “y/n’s in the shower right now, but i can let them know you stopped by? or i could go in and just tell y/n?” okay. so you two were close enough to get into the shower together.

“no, no it’s okay.” momo lets out a nervous chuckle, her head low and her heart cracking. “i hope you two enjoy it. i’ll just leave. i’m kind of in a rush.”

sana nods her head understandingly, “yeah, okay, sorry to hold you up then! thank you again!” she basically shoo’s momo to the door, with no idea how it seemed to her.

-

“how’d it go?” nayeon is on the couch, flicking through the shows on tv, barely paying attention, “did y/n like the bread?”

“i think… y/n has a girlfriend.” momo drops her bag on the floor, her back slouched over as she plopped onto the couch. nayeon’s focus shifts, “for real?”

“yeah, she opened the door for me since y/n was in the shower, and basically pushed me out the door after i put down the bread.” momo sinks into the couch, a slight pout forming on her lips as nayeon ruffles her hair, “well, at least you tried. how long have you liked y/n anyways?”

“for a few weeks now.” momo says it in a whisper, scared to admit it because she can’t even begin to fathom how dumb she sounded to nayeon right now.

nayeon’s eyes widened, “are you serious? why haven’t you made an actual move then and why am i finding out just now?” she barrages momo with questions as she sinks deeper into the couch, “why have you only been giving y/n free food and not actually saying how you feel?”

“i’m sorry, okay?” momo sighs, “i just… didn’t know when to say it, i mean, we don’t talk a lot – we just exchange a few words, and i guess – it never came up.”

“hirai momo. you are so dumb. i mean it.” nayeon flicks her forehead, a slight ‘ow’ escaping momo’s mouth. “how are you able to start up your own bakery but you can’t even say three little words to our next-door neighbor?”

-

“hey,” you have a towel on your head as you dry your hair, “what’s up with the bag?” you sit down on your bean bag chair.

“momo dropped by and wanted to give you some banana bread, but you were in the shower so i just told her to leave it here.” 

sana takes out a slice as she takes a bite, “mmph! this is really good!” her voice is muffled with the bread in her mouth, “how did you even get momo to deliver you so much food?”

“i don’t know – i went to her bakery before when it just opened and she said i was the first customer to come in. we talked for a bit and we figured out we were neighbors so i guess she wanted to deliver it to me?”

sana looks at you, confused, because that didn’t sound like the full story, “you sure that’s all she did or said? nothing else? because i don’t think that explains it. maybe she likes you.”

“no way,” you laugh, “we’re just neighbors, right?”

“i don’t know…” sana dusts her hands off as she finishes the slice, “she did seem kind of off when she came by – she looked like she really wanted to see you.”

“really?” your voice is laced with curiosity as you sat up, because honesty, you liked her a bit. 

“you sound interested.” sana teases, “you totally like her.”

-

but momo hasn't come back in days since then. you two see each other in passing – obviously, you two are neighbors – but she just gives you a small greeting and a smile, before seemingly getting away from you. maybe she was in a bad mood.

but she avoids you for another week and so obviously too, that you can’t help but be a little worried. sana finds herself laying down on your couch, crashing here again for the third time this week – even if she was your best friend, this was a bit excessive – as her stomach rumbles. “i miss momo. she was good for you.”

“you mean good for you? i can hear your stomach rumbling.” 

sana laughs as she rubs her stomach, “fine, i loved the food she gave you, okay? but seriously, what did you do? you make it sound like she hates you or something.”

“that’s the thing, i don’t know. i mean, should i try talking to her? i feel like i fucked up by not saying thank you enough or something.”

“you’re stupid.” she laughs.

“i don’t know, maybe that’s why?”

“i doubt it. just go talk to her about it. who knows? maybe you two will fall in love after that and i can continue getting free food!”

you throw a pillow her way, hitting her face, “you’re dumb.”

-

momo sees you down the hallway of the apartment complex you two share again as she’s fumbling with her keys in her back pocket, trying to get her door open, but as luck would have it, it falls out of her hand, onto the floor and you’re calling out her name.

“momo! hold on!” you run up to her as she looks up at you, “can we talk?”

momo’s heart beats a little faster, “uh, sure. what do you want to talk about?”

“i feel bad, y’know, for not saying thank you for the food enough, and i was wondering if i did anything wrong?”

she knits her eyebrows in confusion, “no? why would you say that?

“i don’t want you to think i only want the food – because i don’t – but i don’t want my neighbor to hate me and avoid me everytime she sees me.” you give a nervous chuckle. 

momo opens her mouth to speak, but she sees her roommate standing a few feet back behind you, throwing up these exaggerated gestures, motioning her to say something. “you didn’t do anything wrong, no, i just - i just felt like i was intruding on you and your girlfriend by always coming over.”

“girlfriend?” now you’re the one confused, “i don’t have a girlfriend?”

“what? then… then who was the girl who opened the door for me last time?”

“that was my best friend, sana. i’ve known her since we were in high school, and she just crashes over sometimes. but why would you feel like you’re intruding…?”

“i…” nayeon urges momo to say it from afar, nodding her head excessively, “i actually liked you for a while, y/n.” she lets out a small sigh, as she turns away for a moment, “i always wanted to say something to you when i came over, but i never got the chance to, and then… i saw sana and i thought you two were dating and i guess i couldn't bring myself to come over anymore so i just stopped and you don’t have to like me back or anything, it’s just-”

“stop, momo,” you let out a small laugh, “i think i like you too.”

“really?” she gasps in disbelief, “so…”

“are you busy right now?” 

momo shakes her head, as she smiles, “no, not at all.”

“maybe we can have lunch, then?”

you sound nervous, though momo giggles as she nods her head, “definitely.”

[happilychaengs]

i promise there will be one fic in the next 2 months for anyone who cares !!!!

[happilychaengs]

INDEED!!!! SHE IS 100 PERCENT MADE OF MOTHERING MATERIALS

NAYEON IS HER

SHE IS THAT WOMAN 🙏🙏🙏

[happilychaengs]

oh nayeon the woman you are

[happilychaengs]

has anybody been keeping up with speed and amy?

[happilychaengs]

y’all don’t play league of legends 🙏

[happilychaengs]

literally so real like what is meatloaf

23:27 | mm

pairing: assassin!momo x handler!reader

summary: good speakers are good liars, too bad momo is neither. co-written by @sanccharine

chapter summary: momo charms some neighbours

word count: 3.2k

a/n: i swear mala started writing this close to a year ago but,,,life happened and it is finally only seeing the light of day now :D enjoy, and don't forget to show them some love !

and happy pride!! 🌈

masterlist

“Remind me again why we have to do this?” Momo asked for what had to be the thousandth time today. 

“Because we want to be good neighbours and members of the community,” you said, in a practiced manner as you rubbed one spot on the marble counter over and over again. Why won’t this speck of grime just wipe away?

“Really?” Momo peered from behind the couch where she was fluffing pillows. You didn’t trust her with anything else right now. 

“Well, no, obviously not! We just don’t want our nosy neighbours poking their heads where it doesn’t belong because this stupid town is so small everyone knows each other,” you exclaimed, more snippy than you wanted to be as you threw the dish rag down. “Why won’t this go—we need a heavy-duty degreaser—!”

Momo caught your hands before they could drag cleaning chemicals down your face. She was standing in front of you, a weightless gaze and lazy smile on her features as she pulled your hands to wrap around her waist. Brightening when you held on, she brought her hands to cup your face, pressing her forehead to yours.

“It’s okay.” 

You hadn’t heard her approach.

“You’re okay.”

You hadn’t heard her approach.

“We’re okay.” 

No creaking floorboards. No shifting in the air. No rustling of clothes. No footfalls vibrating through the ground. Nothing. You’ve trained specifically for these sorts of things, and you took pride in being one of the best in your year, yet you detected nothing. Absolutely nothing.

You were good. Momo was better. 

To not make a sound, to creep up out of the shadows, to grab and to maneuver and to restrain—all effortless. So effortless in the way she moved, it was natural to her. 

Of course, it was. After all, she killed for a living. And you only found that out after she was assigned to you. Even to someone like you, trained in the very same things she was, Momo was a ghost. A blind spot in your senses.

And sometimes, that amazed you. But sometimes… sometimes, it terrified you. 

“Take a deep breath for me,” she whispered, still attuned to your nerves. 

But before she was an agent, she was Hirai Momo to you. And with her, everything was just easier. 

Closing your eyes, you followed her order. She waited as your staggering breath evened out. Her hands a warm embrace, tethering you to the ground. 

“What’s wrong?” Momo's voice remained soft. 

“Grease spot in the corner that won’t go,” Momo hummed in response. “But it’s not important, we need a few more groceries before dinner is ready, can you get them for me?”

“Easy. I can do that,” you felt her nod when her head bumped into yours lightly. “Do you have a grocery list for me?” 

“Prague magnet on the fridge,” your lip twitched upward. “I… also added it to our shared reminders.”

“Classic!” Momo exclaimed, and you snorted at that. “I definitely would’ve forgotten to take the list.”

Fluttering your eyes open, you looked at her through your lashes. Wide eyes and an enormous nose was the first thing you see. Was this the sight Momo was looking at? Pulling away, you threw back your head in laughter. Momo grabbed your hands before you could escape. 

“What are you laughing about? It’s true!” Momo shouted, a grin on her lips as giggles sent tremors down your torso. “I am forgetful, I can admit it—I’m a big boy!” 

You didn’t have the heart to mention how funny Momo looked mere seconds ago. “Or maybe, I’m just super controlling,” you admitted as well, wiping a tear from your eye. 

“Controlling and forgetful,” Momo mused, bringing your hands back to her waist as she smiled into your kiss. “What a pair we make, huh?”

That was an understatement as any.

Alfred Jones. Sixty. Widowed. Grey eyes, bald, short. Villa 1029. Across the street. Easy access. First contact (brought meatloaf as a welcome gift). Lives alone. Threat Level: Harmless. 

Mitali Kapoor. Forty-three. Single. Brown eyes, medium brown hair, slim. Villa 1028. House to the right. Garden visibility. Eighteen-year-old daughter at university out of the country. Lives alone. Threat Level: Harmless. 

Hector Spence. Forty-nine. Divorced, lost custody of children. Brown eyes, blonde hair, stocky build. Villa 1004. Two sons, nineteen and twenty-two, both at university out of the country. Lives alone. Threat Level: Harmless. 

Mariko Yu. Thirty-three. Married to Yori Yu. Brown eyes, long black hair, short. Villa 1013. Two children, a seven-year-old daughter and a five-year-old son, both attend the local elementary school. Threat Level: Harmless.

Yori Yu. Thirty-six. Married to Mariko Yu. Brown eyes, buzzed black hair, average build. Villa 1013. Two children, a seven-year-old daughter and a five-year-old son, both attend the local elementary school. Threat Level: Harmless.

You were about to swipe to the next file when your phone rang. Picking up the call, you slotted your phone between your ear and shoulder and continued swiping. 

“So I’m at the store,” Momo said in a rushed tone. “And beetroots are out of stock… Well, they’re not out of stock, the veggies are all just kind of funny looking.”

You sighed and turned your attention to the saucepan. Stirring the chocolate glaze, you swiped your tablet again to pull up the next file. 

“Can you not swap them out for something else, or are beetroots a hundred percent necessary?” Momo huffed. You could only assume she was grabbing the other last-minute ingredients. 

“Just get the pre-packaged ones, Momo,” you answered before switching off the stove. “Anything else?”

“I don’t think so, I should be back home in a bit!”

“Good, see you soon,” you replied just as your phone slipped from your shoulder. Catching it before it could fall, you dropped the phone on the counter as Momo cut the call and turned to pour the glaze over the cake. 

When you were happy with the dessert, you moved on to the main dish. The clock by your sink reminded you that it was T-minus four hours before the first guests arrived. That left you with just enough time to finish the main dish, shower, get ready for the night, conduct a last-minute plating check, and memorise your neighbours. 

Nothing too difficult. 

Placing a crockpot on the stove, you swiped to the next file. 

Holding your phone to your chest, you tapped your nails on the back of it. The repeated pattering grounded you; each nail on the plastic cover was a number, a name, a neighbour. 

You were by the stairs of the deck, overlooking the neighbours entering your backyard through the side door. None of their smiles or greetings registered, you were too busy spitting out mental facts about the lot of them. You were on a winning streak. 

The party itself was coming together well. The extendable dining table you had decided to buy came in handy as it held the many dishes you’d prepared. Plates, cups, and cutlery were colour-coded and placed to the side. Meals were accompanied by name tags and dietary inclusions, not that it was necessary, you were already aware of the allergies your neighbours had and had made the dishes accordingly. Besides, your intel was always correct. But it did pay to be safe. 

A solid, soothing hand on your back broke your concentration. Momo sidled up to you with a glass in her hand. The colour—the drink was… 

“Peach iced tea. Not on our menu, I know,” Momo said, handing the glass to you. “I thought you deserved something special for all of this.”

With a chuckle, you took a sip of the drink, instantly relaxing. “That’s awfully sweet of you.” 

“This is where you say that I’m the best wife ever, by the way,” Momo gently pressed a kiss to your temple, and you decided to turn completely to face her. 

“You’re the best wife ever,” you smiled as you pressed a quick kiss onto her lips. 

“I know,” she bumped her nose into yours before taking the glass of peach iced tea and taking a sip for herself. “You ready?”

“You think we got this?” you asked, sparing a glance around the backyard. 

“How hard can it be to charm the shit out of these sweet small-town type folk? We so got this,” Momo pulled you closer, pressing another kiss to your temple before raising her glass. “Everyone!” 

Right in front of your eyes, Momo transformed. From the publicly shy, soft-spoken woman you’ve known all your life, to a confident agent that you’ve never had the chance to see in action. Her eyes shone like the twinkling fairy lights strung around the backyard as she grinned. 

“Thank you so much for coming tonight and welcoming us into your community,” her voice carried over the crowd, though there was no need as their attention was already on her. “Please enjoy the dinner, Y/N worked super hard on it! Personally, I think the chocolate cake is the best.”

The crowd burst into laughter before resuming their activities. 

Momo turned to you, transforming back into the woman you knew and fell in love with. “There we go, easy. Now, we just need to talk to these people and make it through the night and then we never have to invite them ever again.” She whispered, although she still moved close to your ear. Her breath tickled your neck and you had to push yourself away from her, but she didn’t let you go. 

“I wish it were that easy,” you swatted at Momo playfully, though she showed no sign of giving up. “We’ll be throwing these get-togethers every other week, I fear.” 

“I guess that's the steep price we have to pay for moving to a small town in the middle of nowhere,” Momo finally stopped flustering you and took to drinking from the glass, her eyes scanning the crowd. You knew she was filing away information just as you did earlier. 

“They’re good people, Momo,” well, you could never be sure of that but at least none of them had any criminal records. “Most of them old, all of them harmless.” 

“Speaking of old and harmless, who’s the baldy that's heading our way?” Momo raised her glass in greeting as a familiar face walked towards you. 

“That’s Mr Jones. He lives across the street, 1029,” and just like that, you resumed your position as the handler, providing information into Momo’s ear. “You should remember him, he welcomed us to the town.”

Momo just shook her head, her smile never once wavering. 

“He brought us meatloaf.”

“Oh, meatloaf! Ugh, meatloaf,” Momo groaned just as Mr Jones stopped in front of her. She pulled her hand from around you and extended it to the old man, a winning smile on her face. “Mr Jones! It’s lovely to see you again, we’re so glad you could make it!”

Mr Jones returned a wide smile. “Thanks for inviting me! An old man like me can get so lonely sometimes, there’s only a few more of these I could go to, you know?”

Well, that took an oddly grim turn. 

All you could do was smile and nod, but Momo was unfazed. “Oh, don’t be like that!” she shook her head. “Please, you’re welcome over any time, maybe we can have dinner sometime again and you can make that dish of yours—”

“My meatloaf! Did you like it? I never got the chance to ask since you’ve been so busy settling in,” he asked with such eagerness, you glance at Momo. 

There was no discomfort in her eyes. 

“It was really good! Definitely something I’ve never tried before,” Momo laughed and so did Mr Jones, his crow’s feet deepening. “Do you cook often?” 

“Just one of my hobbies, teaching myself slowly,” he said.

“Well, it’s not the same but Y/N here loves to bake,” Momo brought her hand back around you to pull you close. Not that the action did anything to negate the fact that she was throwing you under the bus. “Maybe the two of you could make something together? Won’t that be fun, Y/N?” 

Momo finally turned to you, her eyes glittering as she waited for your response. 

“Yeah, that would be great,” you practically sighed. But Mr Jones was too elated to notice anything. “Thanks for coming and being the first to welcome us to your town. I hope you enjoy the night, and let me know how my cooking is, will you?”

Mr Jones nodded with a smile before excusing himself. Both you and Momo watched him walk far enough, and then Momo sighed. 

“He’s a sweet man,” you looked at her and she shrugged. 

“Too sweet, we can’t tell him his cooking is downright lethal.”

“Momo!” you smacked her arm, as she exclaimed. “Let’s not hate on these people… where they could hear us.” 

Momo snorted as you did a cursory glance around. 

“Stop laughing,” you chided but you were fighting a smile of your own. Then someone caught your attention. “Momo, three o’clock.” 

Momo instantly straightened and turned, that winning smile of hers back to save her. 

Your eyes darted back and forth between her and the new neighbour walking your way. Brown eyes, long black hair, this had to be Mariko Yu. “Ah, the new young couple in town,” this was building up to something, and you naturally felt your arm link with Momo’s. She noticed and so did Mariko, who cooed. This is why you never wanted to be a field agent. To deal with bullshit from people like this. “Just married and still passionate, so when shall we see little kids running about?”

Every word was a disgusting serrated knife to the chest. You doubt you hid your horror because even Momo was wide-eyed when she turned to you. Her lips pulled apart to bear all her teeth in what had to be some parody of a smile, it was painful to look at.

“Kids?” Momo hummed out, her tone lilting in question. 

“Kids…” you hoped your answer was evident in your eyes. But Momo’s own looked distraught. 

“No?” you turned to say at the same time Momo replied. “Maybe?”

“Maybe?” you snapped your neck to Momo again, while she did the same with your reply. “No?”

“Oh, looks like there’s trouble in paradise,” Mariko giggled to herself and you couldn’t help but pull a face when she was distracted for a second by her own son’s high-pitched demands for more cake. “Look at my husband and I, for instance, we were just as young as you when we first moved here but look at us now.”

You were looking all right. A brother and sister, not far apart in age, running and screaming around your lawn without a care in the world while their parents mingled with the community. What was supposed to be the appeal?

Besides, your work didn’t really allow for dependents, especially such unbeneficial ones. 

“You should think about having kids—“

“You make a really good case,” you slapped on the best smile you could muster and tugged Momo closer, hoping you seemed lovey-dovey enough for this oaf to leave you alone. 

“I’ll let you two free now,” she smiled, toasting her glass of wine before hobbling away to bother someone else.

“Do you want kids?” you whispered into Momo’s ear as your eyes scanned the backyard. 

“Hell, no! We talked about this!” Momo exclaimed before throwing a disarming smile at a neighbour who passed by. “Wait, have you changed your mind? Do you?”

“Hell, no!” you exclaimed as well, which made Momo chuckle. 

“Okay, phew, we’re on the same page.”

After the mild horror you had suffered at the hands of Mariko Yu, you occupied yourself in the kitchen, arranging the last of the food so that everyone could take second, or third, helpings. You were relieved that your neighbours seemed to appreciate your food, after all, they would become your first customers for your baking business.

As you loaded some of the empty dishes into the dishwasher to make more counter space, you observed a tall blonde making his way toward where Momo stood in a corner, smiling absently at neighbours passing by. Your eyes narrowed when he held her by the elbow, leaning in to introduce himself.

You were close enough to make eye contact with Momo as she politely put more distance between her and the man, and heard the tail-end of what he had been saying, “—Villa 1004, down the road, if you ever need anything.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spence,” ah so she did remember his name after all, “We will keep that in mind.” she smiled.

“Y/N mentioned you travel a lot, what is it you’re in the business of?”

Slotting the last dish in the dishwasher, you straightened, intrigued about how Momo would explain her job.

Her eyes darted to you before she fixed on her blinding smile for what had to be the 17th time today. “Well, I’m a manager for international warehouses.” 

As she launched into a surprisingly detailed description of what her job entailed, and the places she had recently traveled to for said job, you had to remind yourself to not stare at the pair slack-jawed. Wandering eyes shouldn’t notice your shock at this seemingly mundane description of what she did for a living. After all, what spouse didn’t know their wife’s job?

You were still frozen in place next to the dishwasher as she confidently finished her conversation and sent Hector Spence, forty-nine, Villa 1004 on his way to the backyard. She sidled up to you, nudging you out of your stupor. “I’m pretty good at this, aren’t I?” she asked.

Lying to people? You quickly banished that thought. This was her job, and yours too.

“Talking to people? Yeah, you sure are babe.”

“Come on, let’s tell everyone the food is over, that way they’ll finally leave. I’m ready for this night to end.”

Chuckling lightly, you made your way outside, holding onto her hand the whole time. After thanking everyone for coming once again, and letting them know about your soon-to-begin baking business, you bid everyone adieu.

The guests had gone, but there was still work to be done. Although Momo tried to drag you straight to bed, you wouldn’t be able to sleep until the dishwasher was running and all counters had been wiped. Thankfully HQ had done something nice for once and given you two weeks off any missions, which meant the two of you could spend tomorrow rotting in bed together, just how it should be.

As you went through your nightly routine, you first looked towards Momo, slightly humming as she brushed her teeth next to you, and then towards your joint reflection in the mirror. Standing side-by-side like this, in your new home, it just felt right. A sense of ease overtook you, reflected by Momo as she softly tackled you into bed and kissed you goodnight. 

The quiet of the night was only broken when she turned to lay on her back and spoke to the ceiling, “One event down, countless more to go…”

You let out a groan at that declaration, turning in kind to locate her face and shut her up with a kiss of your own. “That’s for future Y/N and Momo to worry about, let’s sleep for now.”

a/n: what even is meatloaf...

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @happilychaengs

[happilychaengs]

no but how have humans likely evolved from sponges

[happilychaengs]

QUEEN OF TEARS DRAMA OF THE YEAR 🗣️🗣️🗣️

spoilers bc i need to put my thoughts somewhere and like no one cares anyways lol

anyways in all fairness, the drama was not perfect by any means but it was definitely up there for me. like there were just some plot lines that were so emphasized but never truly explored like the miscarriage, which imo was brought up way too little bc that was the main reason they fell apart in the first place.

seriously though the one thing i wish they did though was show more of the leads’ future in the end of ep 16. i was lowk shocked that they just did a little montage and they’re old and dead 😭

but the cast of the show 😮‍💨 the leads were casted so well and their chemistry together was on another level. the sad moments were even sadder because they conveyed their emotions so well (lowk tearing up at some points) and the happier moments were actually too happy like i could not stop smiling 😭

if it was a little longer with more eps i feel like it could’ve felt less rushed nearing the end but idk the drama was still really good

[happilychaengs]

QUEEN OF TEARS IS SOOOOO OMG 😔