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sanccharine · 7 months

Text

14:30 | 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 spends the day with you

warning: sickeningly sweet, like makes me want to throw up actually

word count: 2.5k

a/n: assassin!momo is here because indigo works hard af. literally she wrote everything, again i didn't do jackshit for this part, didn't even open docs until yesterday lol. im just here to post and disappear like avatar aang, again :]

masterlist

You cursed as your oven timer dinged for the third time, barely managing to shove your hands into heat proof gloves before hurrying to take the baking tray out of the steaming oven. This had to be your sixteenth batch of heart shaped cookies, an apparent Valentine's day tradition. A cliche, more like, you rolled your eyes.

Although this influx of orders was no doubt good for your growing business, you were just about ready to gouge out your eyes if only to avoid looking at pink food colouring again.

You sighed, at least after this last order for Mr Moyo, you'd be done for the day. As you busied yourself with measuring the flour, something you could do in your sleep now based on the amount of times you'd made this exact recipe, the front door slammed shut.

Momo. Hearing the loud slamming noise would've given you a headache in any other situation, but not today. Today Momo had promised to give you a break from doing the dishes after seeing you knee deep in orders since the morning.

You hadn't even realized how tired you were until she came up behind you and laid her chin on your shoulder. You took a break from kneading and pulled her closer. Sensing your fatigue, Momo wrapped you up in her arms, gently turning you around and laying a soft kiss on your lips.

"Rough day?"

"Mmm," you didn't bother with a more coherent response. Momo got it anyway.

She gazed around at the heart cookies, with their light pink frosting and red and white sprinkles, and snorted, "I don't really get why people would want these."

A beat.

She rushed to add. "Of course not saying that because it's your baking! These look great babe, you've done a really good job on the decor." She cupped her warm hands around your cheeks, emphasizing that she didn't mean anything by what she'd said.

You shook your head, "It is a silly holiday."

"Exactly! That's what I meant," she kissed your cheek in apology.

You settled deeper into her hold. The dough could wait. "But still, it's kind of sweet that people celebrate Valentine's day," you murmured.

Momo could be quite dense sometimes. You had to often spell things out for her. But this, your unmentioned plea, she understood clearly. Maybe it was the exhaustion making you more sensitive than usual. Or maybe it was the sentimentality of the holiday that made you melt against her arm as she brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Tell you what, you finish up this last batch and I'll run you a bath. How does that sound?"

That did sound great. You gave her a grateful nod as you added, "there's extra frosting in the fridge if you want to try some."

Momo hurriedly disentangled herself and gave you another kiss before rushing to the said fridge. Perhaps it wasn't just you feeling the sentiments of the holiday.

With renewed vigour, you managed to toss the new batch of cookies in the oven, having to wait only for a couple minutes before filling up all your used dishes with soapy water. Although Momo had promised to do them for you, you couldn't just leave them be without rinsing atleast a few.

You trudged upstairs, where your nose was immediately met with the soothing scent of lavender, from the bath salts you had gifted Momo a few months ago. As you slipped into the bathroom, Momo turned to face you.

"So my next flight isn't for another few days."

You nodded silently, focusing on throwing your flour stained shirt into the laundry basket instead. Momo and you had discussed her flight over dinner last night so you didn't know why she was bringing it up again.

"I was thinking we could do something together."

Now that got your attention. You lifted your head and asked with a hint of a smirk, "I thought you said Valentine's day was a shitty occasion."

"I didn't say it like that! And also this doesn't have to be for Valentine's day," she added. "It could be just a date."

"Okay," you shrugged. You would do anything if it meant spending more time with Momo.

She perked up. "Great! I'll plan it out!"

Wait, what?

Before you could ask her anything, she smiled, said "Enjoy your bath!" and left, closing the door behind her.

As you enjoyed your much needed soak in the tub and made your way out of the bathroom, you found Momo hunched over on the bed with her glasses on and laptop in hand. You smiled to yourself. She hardly ever wore her glasses, so she must be taking this date planning very seriously.

As you crawled into bed, she turned her screen towards you and pointed excitedly. "Look!"

You took a look at a website showing various people with axes in their hands. Before you could ask about what Momo wanted to do with a Thor convention, you caught sight of the title at the top of the screen.

Axe throwing. Huh.

"Seems fun, doesn't it?"

You tore your glance away from the laptop to Momo's face, grinning widely and awaiting your answer. You were looking at her, but you weren't really seeing. The only thought in your mind was how cute those glasses looked on her. You really had to make her wear them more often.

"You're adorable," you blurted out as she nudged you for an answer.

Stifling a giggle, she rolled her eyes. "I'm taking that as a yes." And right away, she booked a slot for the two of you. You settled under the covers quietly, not really having any objections but also not expecting her to be so proactive about this date.

"There, all done. It's in the evening tomorrow." She put her laptop away on the bedside table and joined you under the warm duvet.

Not that the duvet stayed settled for long as her words jolted you up. "Wait, tomorrow? I can't tomorrow, I have to deliv—"

Momo took your hands, silencing you in the action. "I know, you have to deliver the cookies. But we could do those on the way to the facility."

You weren't convinced this easily. "What if someone isn't at home? What if we can't deliver some of the orders?"

She shook her head. "The time slot I booked is their last one. It's at 8 pm, which gives us plenty of time to make the deliveries, even if someone isn't home in the morning," she emphasized the end of her sentence to lay your worries at ease.

Kissing the hands still in her grip was the cherry on top, as you finally settled down again, content that Momo had it all planned out. She laughed quietly as she turned to face you, the faint yellow hue of the night lamp casting a glow on her face. "I wouldn't have booked the slot without making your deliveries happen, babe."

"I know, I just like having a plan." So what if your handler tendencies bled over into your regular life, having a plan was never a bad thing.

"You and your lists and schedules…"

"Hey, at least I'm not the one getting lost in a city because I can't read out the itinerary made for me!" It was a bit of a deep cut to bring up something that had occured on vacation years ago, but you couldn't resist teasing her.

And Momo retaliated by doing what Momo did best. When at a loss for a verbal attack, she mercilessly moved her hands up and down your sides, tickling you until your feet kicked and squirmed in the blanket.

She only stopped when you finally cried out for mercy, ceding victory to her if only to be able to breathe properly. Having eventually caught your breath, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to situate your torso over hers and wipe off the smug smile on her face with a deep kiss.

"Goodnight, babe. I love you."

"I love you too. G'night."

True to her word, Momo had done all the dishes last night while you had been in the bath, and walking into a gleaming kitchen almost made you want to get on your knees and sob in relief. You loved baking, but cleaning up after was often the hardest part, something you absolutely had to be particular about no matter how tired you were.

You turned on the coffee machine just as the sounds of Momo rustling around in the sheets reached your ears. You were content to just stay in and share a cup of coffee, enjoying the morning sunlight streaming through the windows onto your kitchen counter. You looked around your carefully curated kitchen, at all the designs you had insisted on, knowing that it would be one of the places you spent the most time in. Your eyes landed on the pile of trinkets in the corner, stubbornly making themselves known in the pristine marble decor of the kitchen.

Despite your hatred of the mismatched colour scheme, that corner held a special place in your heart, after all, it contained all the little things Momo had brought back from her trips around the world. The woman was talented in many areas, but interior design was decidedly not one of them. She would buy whatever she thought looked cute, irrespective of whether it was something that would fit in your kitchen or was needed by you in the first place.

Still, you couldn't bear to hide it away. As your gaze landed on the porcelain soap dish Momo had brought back a few weeks ago, you had to stifle a laugh at the memory of that particular day. All things considered, it wasn't even as horrendous as some of the other things she'd purchased, but her reasoning for buying it was what had you stumped. You remembered her ravenously eating forkfuls of the pie you had made to celebrate her arrival (and the difficult mission you knew she'd undertaken), before she had sprung up from her seat to haphazardly search through her bags.

Having found what she was looking for, she had tossed the dish towards you, and beamed as though expecting praise for her 'thoughtful' purchase. You couldn't lie, the gift had you bewildered for a good couple of minutes as you wracked your brain trying to recall why this dish would be of particular significance to you. Momo had impatiently gestured at you to turn the dish over and "look at the back!", where you found a 'Made in Greece' stamp over the dish. Although that gift had greatly confused you to the extent of looking like the human equivalent of a keyboard smash, it brought a smile to your face knowing that Momo carried your love of Greek myths with her wherever she went.

The subject of your thoughts bounded down the stairs just as you wrapped up that precious memory. Her hair was mussed up from having rolled around in bed, and her bleary eyes indicated that she wasn't fully awake yet. But to you, she had never looked better. You loved Momo like this, all soft and pliant in the morning, making you feel like you were in a never ending Sunday.

You must have taken a second too long to acknowledge her, as she whined at not immediately receiving her good morning kiss. You moved towards her and obliged, before getting a hold of her wrist and gently dragging her off to where your twin coffee mugs stood, ready for a lazy start to your day.

The rest of your day went by similarly in a haze, with you dividing your time between wrapping up your final orders, and making the most of Momo being home. Once the admittedly long and lazy breakfast was over, you enlisted Momo's help in reorganizing your closet, getting rid of items you didn't use anymore. Then, after hastily vacuuming your bedroom, the two of you made a quick lunch of enchiladas (well, you cooked and Momo tried not to get in your way), before settling down on the couch and scrolling through Netflix for a new show to watch.

You sighed contentedly in her hold as Momo, eventually tired of trying to find something new, clicked on the long memorised sitcom favoured by you. As your eyes glazed over the familiar scenes, you lauded your past self for closing off orders even though Valentine's Day was still two days away; you got to make the most of your time while Momo was still home.

By the time the afternoon hues of the sun had started to darken to twilight, you had already finished a season of the show you had put on, as well as two cups of tea and a bowl of popcorn. Deciding to clear up a bit, you turned off the television with a groan of protest from Momo, before eventually tugging her off the couch and upstairs to get ready for your deliveries.

Momo had been right in booking the 8 PM slot for your date, and as you watched her carefully load all the orders into the backseat of your car, a serene feeling washed deep in your bones. All it took really was a four letter word.

Home.

Time.

Love.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Momo asked as you slid into the passenger seat.

You had an absent smile on your face as your fingers drummed against your thighs. "Mm, just thinking of how all it takes is a four letter word."

Momo leaned over, grabbing and fastening your seatbelt for you in a swift motion. "You're thinking of 'sexy', right?" she smirked.

You felt your cheeks being pulled upwards as the absent smile blossomed into a full one. "I was thinking more of 'dork' but okay."

"Nerd."

"Fool."

"Rude."

"Mean."

The two of you traded back and forth before Momo suddenly said, "Y/N".

"Hmm? That's not how—"

"I love you," she giggled. This time it was you who leaned in, pushing forward as much as your seatbelt would allow, and sealed her giggles with a kiss. "Wife," you murmured against her as she pulled you in closer upon hearing that fall from your lips, a revered whisper.

Despite everything in you screaming not to, you eventually pulled yourself away and let Momo start the car. You settled in your seat, putting a hand over your heart to calm it's racing, but to also feel how strongly it beat. For Momo. While the pair of you weren't really convinced by the traditions of Valentine's Day, and scorned at how the town had blown a quarter of its budget on tacky pink and red decorations, you couldn't deny just how full your heart had felt today. How it felt everyday you were by her side.

You had your own traditions with her, of course you did, honed after years of being together, but it all boiled down to one thing, a simple four letter word: Momo.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: happy valentines day y'all, tell people that you love them !!! or don't, or tell them that you hate them lol, idk don't let me tell you how to spend your day :P

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

#a game of hide and seek #mala's collection #sanccharine #indigo's archive #eternallyghosting :]#momo x reader #twice x reader #momo fluff #jype twice #twice imagines #momo imagines

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sanccharine · 11 months

Text

15:47 | 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 puts a man in his place

warning: use of guns sidenote: we don't know anything about guns,,,and we gave up on researching and being accurate, sorry ;-;

word count: 2.6k

a/n: as promised assassin!momo is here, also this connects to 15:34 (momo finds a gun). additionally, indigo wrote everything, i didn't do jackshit for this part, im just here to post and disappear like avatar aang

masterlist

You were seated on your recliner, taking advantage of the quiet in the house to read one of your all-time favorites, a copy of Metamorphoses you had treasured since you were a teenager, before the silence was disturbed by a beep on your phone.

As you hurried to put your book away, you frowned at your phone screen lit up with a notification from your shared calendar.

This Friday, 5-6 pm. Momo had not added anything more.

Figuring she must have woken from her nap if she was scheduling things, you called out to her.

Silence. Before you could say anything again, you were interrupted by another beep, signaling the change in the time slot from 6-7 pm.

And then another, shifting it back to 5 pm.

You sighed. What was going on?

Deciding you were done with your reading for the time being, you got up to carefully place your book back in its curated spot on your bookshelf before making your way upstairs.

You pushed open the door to your bedroom to find Momo fiddling on her phone in bed, the sheets tangled around her.

“Hey,” you leaned against the doorframe, “what’s this?”

“Hm?” she yawned.

Pointing to your own phone screen, you asked again. “What’s this Friday?”

“Oh!” Momo rubbed the sleep out of her eyes mid-sentence. “It’s for our shooting class.”

“Our what now?” Hearing Momo casually mention shooting came as a surprise to you, no matter the amount of hours you had spent in her earpiece discussing the exact same thing.

“Remember that gun we have in the back of our closet?”

How could you forget? For all its innocence and claims of self-defense, it was a thrilling reminder of what you both faced on the daily. Well, Momo did. Although you supposed sending her out there, day after day, knowing what she was getting herself into put you on the frontline as well.

Yes, you had trained for this, and yes, you had signed the contract agreeing to be the permanent handler of Agent 64, but a hidden part of you would always put up a fight whenever a new mission file came along, wanting nothing more then to go back to when you were just Y/N and she was just Momo.

Seemingly unaware of your inner turmoil, Momo continued, “Well, I have a license, but I think you should also get some practice in. Just in case, you know?”

Just in case.

“A gun date!” You exclaimed, trying to make light of the situation. In all honesty, it had completely slipped your mind, what with unpacking and settling in as well as meeting all your neighbours who insisted on inviting you two over for meals.

She rolled her eyes. “Sure, yes, a gun date, if that makes you feel better.”

Nothing about this situation would, but you would take it. After all, it meant getting to spend more time with Momo. And despite everything you knew about her capabilities and renowned skills, you had yet to see her actually wield a weapon. This could be fun. You wondered if she would actually shoot as she had been trained to, or if she would fumble her shots on purpose.

Her pride wouldn’t let her. You hid a smile as you thought about Momo at the range. Perhaps you would come up with something to bring out her competitive spirit. After all, you had to get your shots in too.

You nodded as you finally stepped into the room, moving closer to the bed. “So, Friday then?”

“Yep, I had emailed the closest range the very day we moved in, but they only just got back to me saying they could pencil us in for a slot.”

“Sounds good,” you hummed noncommittally, throwing yourself backward onto the bed. Momo did not seem like she would be getting out of bed anytime soon, and your sleep schedules were messy anyways. Dinner could wait.

Despite your previous reservations (and you wouldn’t say this out loud), you were actually excited to go to the range with Momo.

It had been an easy week for the two of you; having no immediate missions meant Momo could stay around and help you organize the house. It had been weeks since you had moved in, but there was still so much to do. You and Momo had found an easy rhythm of working, wherein you would organize and dictate the layout of the house, while Momo helped build all your furniture. After all, I am good with my hands, she had smirked.

Although the session you had booked was at five, you had to leave much earlier. Curse this town and its lack of accessibility. Although, you mused, that was precisely why you had chosen to relocate here, so you couldn’t really complain.

Momo had volunteered to drive, so you sat back and shuffled around the playlists on your phone as she pulled into the freeway with ease.

You wouldn’t say this out loud either, but you had been thinking of silly bets you could make with Momo to make the shooting session more fun.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll get like, eight bullseyes,” you began confidently.

She kept her eyes steady on the road, but you could see a smirk make its way across her face.

“Pshh, in your dreams.” Her fingers tightened imperceptibly on the steering wheel. Aha, so her competitive spirit had awoken.

“How about… ” you drifted off as if deep in thought, “loser does the dishes for two weeks?”

She shook her head. “Make it three and then it’s worthwhile.”

“How about laundry? Or gardening?” As you continued to think of new ways you could torture her with chores, she suddenly straightened in her seat.

“Loser goes out for dinner with Mr. Jones.”

You shuddered. “Ugh, I wouldn’t want to wish that on you, babe.”

Her smirk never left her face. “You seem pretty confident.”

“Oh, yeah! I told you already, how hard can it be?” You mimicked explosions again, only for Momo to swat your hand away.

“Fine, if you’re so confident, then dinner with Mr. Jones it is,” she said resolutely.

“You’re on.”

Although Momo was a highly sought-after assassin, you were not one to back down from a challenge. Settling further into your leather seat, you spent the rest of the ride jokingly trash-talking her, thinking of gross food combinations that your elderly neighbour would probably have on his dinner table.

As Momo pulled up into the tiny parking lot attached to the gun range, you couldn't stop the restless shaking of your legs. You weren't really worried about handling a gun; despite not being in the field you were confident in your abilities and comfort with a gun. As strange as it sounds, you were nervous about seeing Momo wield one.

Momo sensed your nerves and put a warm palm on your knee, her touch comforting. "Hey, it'll be fine. An instructor will be guiding us."

You managed a shaky smile as she continued, "and after all, it's for self defense, right?"

Right, self defense...

A strange look passed Momo as she said that, one you couldn’t decipher, though it disappeared when she nodded.

Your instructor turned out to be a burly, unsmiling man who made no effort at conversation. You supposed that was just as well, you needed no distractions in the range.

As he talked through the make of the gun, as well as its safety features, both you and Momo tried your hardest to act as if you were paying attention. Chancing a glance at her face, you could see her eyes trained only on the pistol in the instructor's hand. Not because she needed a reminder on how to load a bullet, but because she had already planned out an entire scenario in her head where she would have to face the opposition without having ready weapons. You could see it in the clench of her jaw, her unblinking eyes seemingly boring holes into the unsuspecting pistol.

You turned your attention back to what he was saying, only to catch the tail end of his sentence. "...and make sure you store it in a reclined postion."

Your eyes narrowed. You weren't supposed to store it that way.

Although the instructor was in the wrong you decided to keep quiet and let him finish talking. Momo however, couldn't help herself.

“Storing it that way increases the chances of the bullet getting stuck, potentially backfiring the weapon," she said sharply, her eyes never leaving the gun.

"Um, oh. Well…”

"Do your research before you teach civilians how to fire guns." You winced at her harsh tone.

Although the man towered over the both of you in height, he seemed to shrink a couple inches upon Momo's rebuke, speechless at her interruption.

"Carry on," she waved a dismissive hand when he showed no signs of continuing his lecture.

"Right so um, let's move on to aiming," you tuned out again when you realised these were the extreme basics you'd learnt in your first few days at the academy.

You let your thoughts wander to the period of your youth, undergoing grueling training in similar ranges with your friends. Only then it was a much more serious matter. You sighed. How had it already been so many years since you passed out of the system? Since you moved on and became a handler? Momo’s handler.

You came back to the present as Momo grabbed your arm, leading you to get fitted with a weapon. She seemed very in her element here, which you supposed wasn't too far off from her persona on the field. Although never having seen this in person before, you decided you liked this confident Momo.

Once you had both been fitted with guns, safety goggles, and ear plugs, your instructor led you over to an enclosed room. It was a long hallway, with narrow channels created by glass separations, and targets stuck onto the far wall.

Momo gestured at you to make the first shot, smirking as she did so. Clearly she was enjoying this.

Despite the flutters in your stomach caused by her confident aura, you forced your eyes away from her as you steadied your hand.

Taking the all too familiar shooting stance, you took a deep breath and fired.

A clear hole could be seen on the ring marking a nine. It wasn’t bad, but you were better than this.

Momo raised an eyebrow at you. “Beginner’s luck?”

If only she knew.

You shrugged, signaling her to make the next shot.

She took the same stance you had, the same pose holding the gun aloft, her eyes narrowed on the target the same way yours had. Then why did it look so much cooler?

The sound of a buzzer led to a temporary pause in your admiration of Momo.

You glanced at the target. A bullseye. Of course.

Her cheekbones would surely hurt at night from all the smirking she had been doing. It seemed the smile never left her face as the two of you alternated between rounds. Your instructor, after observing you two for a few shots and coming to the fairly obvious conclusion that you wouldn’t do something stupid like shoot at the ceiling, had left you to your own devices and had wandered over to chat with the employee at the weapons station.

“Alright,” Momo clapped her hands once before extending it, “warmup’s over. Let’s begin the bet, shall we?”

“You’re on.” You solemnly shook her hand, not one to back down from the ridiculous dramatics of the bet.

As she reloaded her pistol, you stood still to take stock of the situation. You had purposefully fumbled a few shots during your warm-up so as to not make your wife suspicious, but could you really risk doing that when the stakes were having dinner with Mr. Jones?

No, you obviously could not.

You’d just have to pretend to be a fast learner. After all, Momo had first-hand observed how you took on new recipes and mastered skills after a few tries. It wouldn’t be too far off to say you were already good at target practice.

You reloaded your own gun and waited for Momo to go first this time, thinking you would continue to alternate shots as you had before. However, you were sorely mistaken.

If you thought Momo had been in her element during the warm-up, this was an all-new, evolved Momo. Her eyes never left the target as she swiftly reloaded her pistol after each shot, her hands a blur from the fast motions. She did not look to see if you were shooting, nor did she wait for you to catch up. She had ten bullets and she made ten bullseyes. The sound of the buzzer was a neverending cacophony of success.

Only after silence had once again settled in the room did she move away from the shooting platform, pushing her goggles up over her forehead.

“Pick your jaw up from the floor, babe, there might be flies around here.” She sauntered over to you, casually holding the gun loose between her slender fingers.

Holy shit. How were you supposed to one up her now?

She must have sensed the resignation on your face, as she moved closer to pat you between your shoulder blades.

“I’m sure dinner won’t be that bad,” she said with a teasing grin.

You rolled your eyes at her before focusing on the gun in your hand, steadying yourself once again before letting the bullets fly.

To your credit, you were really good. For someone who had not been active in the field for many years, you did not disappoint on your top-of-the-year status. However, Hirai Momo was simply better. Eight bullseyes and two 9s when you had briefly hesitated in the beginning could not compare to her perfect score.

As you turned away from the sound of the buzzer and made your way over to her dejectedly, you were surprised to find a pair of arms encircling your shoulders. You looked up and found a gleam in her eyes. She was happy, not just from winning the bet, you realised, but because she was able to share a part of her daily life with you, even just for a few hours.

At that, the anxiety over the impending dinner plans faded away. This was what you had been wanting too. Sharing a home and a bed with her was absolutely perfect, but the joy at being able to share an aspect of her life while being civilians was more than you could have thought of. Before the embarrassment at this public display of affection could draw her away from you, you pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

That wasn’t good enough for Momo.

“You’re pretty good with a gun, you know,” Momo hummed out before she pressed a kiss to your lips. She pulled back just enough that your noses were still touching, her eyes wide and searching.

“Like you said,” your voice was soft. “Beginner’s luck.”

“What if I take some food over to his house?”

“Absolutely not! You have to eat the dinner he makes.”

The two of you bickered over the loopholes of the bet while returning your equipment, and all the way till you were back in the car.

As you fastened your seatbelt, you felt Momo gently touch your palm to get your attention.

She looked strangely nervous and didn’t fully meet your eye, “I just wanted to say, you did really well back there. Seriously.”

There was that strange emotion again. It wasn’t something you understood, but you had the urge to divert away.

“Enough to get me out of dinner?” you asked cheekily.

She groaned. “Don’t start with this again!”

Her eyes softened as she fully turned to look at you. “I’m proud of you though.”

You mirrored her position on the seat as you smiled at her. “Self defense, am I right?”

“Yeah, self defense.”

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: ^shower indigo with love and praise otherwise i will fucking come for you, i am in your walls. okay, im done with threats now, have a good day/night everyone :]

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

#a game of hide and seek #mala's collection #sanccharine #indigo's archive #eternallyghosting :]#momo x reader #twice x reader #momo fluff #jype twice #twice imagines #momo imagines

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