Hands Off

Hands Off

Regina George x Reader

Trigger Warnings: insecurity, underage drinking, jealousy, threatening language

Word Count: 1.8k

Request:

I saw the movie a day after it came out and I have been desperate for jealous Regina x reader. Like Cady tried at the party and BOOM Regina like smothers reader with kisses. Btw thoughts on the movie?

My thoughts on Mean Girls: Initially, going into it, I was nervous due to being such a big fan of the musical and move. I loved the movie, and I think the cast is amazing. I have seen it two times in theaters, and I will be going for two more times, at least.

(Y/n) adjusted herself in the mirror, determining whether she felt confident enough for the outfit she had chosen. However, Regina's words rang through her mind: "Honestly, babe, this costume would look so hot on you." Regina didn't know that she had chosen to go as a devil, decked in red with a horn placed on her head. She went all out, even adding a touch of red, glittery eye shadow. The outfit hugged her curves in ways that she wasn't sure about yet. (Y/n) sighed before checking the time. She couldn't back out of it now. It was officially too late, and after looking at Regina's current location, she saw that the girl was three minutes from her house.

Grabbing the purse and pitchfork she bought to accompany her outfit, she made her way downstairs in order to meet Regina at the door. It also gave her an extra minute to adjust herself in a different lighting. Hearing a honk from outside, she walked outside, spotting Regina's orange jeep, the chill in the air making her wish that Regina chose a vehicle with doors. She shot a quick 'goodbye' to her parents as she made her way over to Regina's Jeep.

"Hey, baby," Regina greeted, pulling her into the passenger seat with a smirk. (Y/n) grinned as Regina kissed her deeply, and (Y/n) got so drunk on the kiss that she almost forgot about Karen and Gretchen in the back. "You took my advice on the costume. You look hot, (Y/n)."

Due to the way that Regina's eyes raked over her body as she got situated beside her girlfriend, (Y/n) began to feel hot, too. Pushing her hair behind her shoulders as the wind whipped it around, she smirked. "Thank you, angel. You look very hot yourself. I'm glad I took your advice. It seems to match your costume very well, huh?" (Y/n) traced her eyes over Regina's angel costume. There was no question when determining how amazing Regina looked. She was the hottest girl in school, and (Y/n) often wondered what she saw in her. To others, Regina might come off as abrasive or angry, but she was never that way with (Y/n). She was soft and flirty, and she was whipped. (Y/n) was, too, though. Not only was she whipped, but she was absolutely in love with Regina.

As they got to the party, the bass could already be heard from the outside, and a girl in a corn outfit had just puked off the side of the porch. The action made (Y/n) curl her nose before following Regina in, hands latched together. They tended to stick together at events like these. Not just because they were in a relationship, but because of the boys around them. "I'm going to go find Jason," Gretchen called out, separating as Karen followed her as she often did. (Y/n) didn't mind them going off together, leaving her and Regina alone as they made their way to the kitchen.

Regina began pouring drinks for her and (Y/n), passing the red solo cup to her girlfriend. "You really do look hot, baby. You should wear red more often." Regina complimented as she set her drink beside them, keeping an eye on it. Her hands fell onto (Y/n)'s hips and she leaned in to kiss her. (Y/n) wasn't one to object to a kiss from her girlfriend, allowing Regina's lips to dance on hers with ease. The base kept them at a pace as they kissed, not caring about the people around them. They were almost secluded in the little kitchen area they were in. The two would've continued to make out if it wasn't for the screams that caused them to jump apart, some of (Y/n)'s drink splashing onto the floor.

(Y/n) quickly went to clean it as Regina narrowed her eyes to see what everyone was screaming at. "Oh my God, Cady looks horrendous," Regina commented, her eyes widening as (Y/n) stood up to see what was going on. She was someone who often defended Cady due to being so new to everything in America. After all, it was evident that she was very sheltered growing up. Regina texted Gretchen, who said Aaron had invited her to the party. "Interesting… Did you know that Cady likes Aaron?" Regina personally felt that Cady was out of her league, but it was whatever Cady wanted, not her obviously.

"Really." (Y/n) said, drinking the contents in her cup before getting a refill. "I wouldn't really have expected it. I think Cady might be too pretty for Aaron of all people. I kind of thought she might like Janis since I've seen them talking a bit. Or, maybe she and Gretchen?"

Regina and (Y/n) tended to try to pair people up with each other for fun. Cady wasn't the exception to that. "Speaking of Gretchen, she's going to be upset if she sees Jason making out with that girl over there. I'm going to go break it up, but I'll be right back," Regina kissed (Y/n) before going to tell off Jason before Gretchen noticed. (Y/n) smiled at her as she walked off, grabbing her drink to keep it safe as she approached Gretchen and Cady.

"Hey, ladies," she greeted with a soft smile. Gretchen was about to respond until she watched Karen from a distance do something she wasn't supposed to. Quickly excusing herself, she ran over to the other girl leaving just Cady and (Y/n). "So, Cady, how are you enjoying North Shore so far? Find anyone you might be interested in yet?" (Y/n) just knew that there was no way that Cady had a crush on Aaron. He wasn't unattractive, Cady just was more attractive. Leaning in slightly, (Y/n) smiled widely. "You can tell me, I promise not to tell anyone. I am like a vault, you know?"

Cady blushed at her question, thankful for the abundance of makeup her mother helped her apply. However, even if (Y/n) couldn't see the blush, she saw the shy fidget. "Yes, actually, but Gretchen and Karen told me not to do anything about it. But… She is pretty cool." Cady answered, taking a small step forward. (Y/n) almost jumped up excitedly at the fact that Cady just confirmed her crush wasn't on Aaron. Now, she was thinking she was right. Cady had to like Janis if not Aaron or Gretchen. She only took Gretchen out of the equation because Cady confirmed she had told her who it was. Cady might be a brainiac when it came to math, but (Y/n) was the best matchmaker on campus.

Too bad she didn't realize that Cady was insinuating her. Sipping the alcohol in her cup, she leaned back a bit to examine Cady, trying to figure out who it was. "Oh, come on, Cady. You can't always listen to Gretchen and Karen, no matter how amazing they are. I say if you like them, you should go for it. Is this person here at the party? Do I know them?" (Y/n) glanced around, seeing Regina return from pairing Jason back up with Gretchen. This was a task she hated doing, but she knew Gretchen was head over heels for Jason for some reason.

"Yeah, she is actually, and you know her very well," Cady answered, placing a hand on (Y/n)'s wrist since her hand was full. (Y/n) was now suddenly very aware of who she was hinting at. Unfortunately for Cady, Regina was now right next to (Y/n) and kissing her deeply before sending a death glare to the girl in a black wig. (Y/n) shook off Cady's hand gently, taking a step closer to Regina who wrapped a hand around (Y/n)'s waist. Cady looked shocked, dejected, and embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… I should go."

Regina provided a sickly sweet smile at this. "Yeah, Cady, there's no hard feeling or whatever, either. Just next time, hands off my girlfriend. I hope your night gets better." Regina said, taking one of the drinks from (Y/n), waiting for Cady to make her way away from them or out of the house. As Cady practically rushed out the door, Regina felt herself crushing the red solo cup before releasing it and replacing it.

(Y/n) didn't feel bad in the sense of Cady's feelings towards her, but seeing Cady sad made her feel bad. But it was awkward now that she had practically admitted that she had feelings for her without saying it. "Regina, I'm sorry. I didn't realize until she took my wrist that she was coming on to me." (Y/n) apologized, hoping Regina wasn't mad at her. She had never made Regina mad before, and she didn't want to.

"It's not your fault that Cady can't keep her hands to herself. What were you two talking about anyways?" Regina questioned, drinking a sip of the alcohol in her hands. She knew her mother would come to pick them up and have someone grab her vehicle in the morning, so she wasn't worried about drinking. Plus, now she needed the drink having witnessed the girl she was trying to help fit in touch with her girlfriend. She was jealous, and she didn't want anyone touching (Y/n) that way ever. "It must've been pretty good seeing as Cady felt the need to grab your wrist. It looked like she was about to kiss you."

(Y/n) finished her second drink as she ran a hand through her hair. "We were talking about how she had a crush on someone, and I was trying to get it out of her. I didn't know it was me so I said go for it, and then when she grabbed my wrist, I was like 'oh, shit.'" (Y/n) explained, hoping Regina believed her. She was telling the truth after all, and Regina was really good at reading the truth about people. Especially (Y/n), not that (Y/n) really ever lied. It was more so little white lies like 'Oh yeah, I totally didn't just take a three-hour nap, I lost my phone.'

"Okay, baby, I believe you. But if Cady ever tries that again, she won't get another chance to be a part of our group, and she will be a social outcast. I will not let her think that she can touch my girlfriend and get away with it." Regina glared at the exit as if Cady might re-enter. Regina then took (Y/n)'s hand. "But let's forget about that and her. Let's just go to my house. We can watch Halloween movies and make out if you want?"

(Y/n) smirked at the offer, nodding slightly. "You know what, you got a deal, angel. Let's do it."

Lonely

Theodore Nott x Legilimens! reader

Warnings: Swearing.

Description: The reader has no friends until destiny (in the form of a boy named Theodore Nott) does everything to make her feel like she belongs.

In your first year, you were put in a dorm by yourself. You heard so many times that this was a gift — a sign of your good fortune, Professor Trelawney said — as everyone else in your year group had to share with someone else, but you, the introvert you were, were left to your own devices. Despite these assumptions, you quickly discovered that sharing a dorm was central to establishing friendships, and you spent the vast majority of your high school life friendless and alone.

At times, your boredom and your loneliness were so all-encompassing that you would read the minds of the first years who you knew wouldn’t be capable of sensing the imposition upon their thoughts. None of them thought of much. The boys were preoccupied with daydreams of girls and music (most of them were very into hip-hop as was the popular culture of the nineties), and the girls were nearly all stressing about parties and school work.

You were as much at ease with your situation as one could possibly be. You were of the mindset that if there was nothing you could do about it, why bother? Everyone had their cliques, their friends, and you were just the one to be left out. Your only goal was to get through the remaining year, then you would leave school, rent a house somewhere obscure, become a writer or an archaeologist or something else fun, and start your life over again. But it appeared that destiny had other plans.

Destiny, that supreme, omniscient, omnipotent concept that dwindled above and twisted within the interactions of all peoples, came to you in a free period you were spending in the library. The period before had been Charms, but that was of no consequence, neither was the fact that you had no more classes until later that night when you would make the journey to the Astronomy tower. You were sitting at a desk in the far left corner of the library, tucked between the pages of a number of books written by Z-named authors of some incredibly niche portion of history when Madam Pince’s high-pitched and troubled voice disturbed your rather unproductive attempts to finish your homework.

Ever bored, and hardly ever entertained, you leant to the side to see around the long bookcase. To your surprise, your eyes immediately met with a pair of blue ones. The irises were mere spots lost in the oceans of colour and they darted between you and Madam Pince, desperate for assistance. Behind those eyes, you could hear his mind asking for your help. If you was slightly smarter, you would’ve avoided this person’s gaze altogether and returned to your work.

“Madam Pince,” you said before allowing yourself a moment to think, and the frustrated librarian’s head turned to you in owl-like frustration, “Is everything okay?”

“Not at all,” she said, her voice an angry whisper, “Mr Nott should be in class, instead, he’s here violating my books!”

You glanced at the owner of the eyes. The green lining of his robe told you he was from your house, so you knew him even if only from afar. He hung out with the big group of your housemates most of the time, but you’d observed that he often sat by himself in the common room and the others intruded on his personal time. He was tall — probably six feet or so — and thin, with hair that was darker than blond, but most definitely not as dark as some of his friends’ hair. In the traditional sense, he was handsome, but you’d heard him speak in class before, and his voice bore an awkward intonation as if to speak was to curse which made him seem almost as nerdy as yourself. Despite this, every movement he made seemed elegant no matter his emotion, this was so inherent of a feature that even in that moment — when he was so clearly itching to turn and run — he was like a swan. His name was Theodore Nott, and you’d never spoken to him before.

“He’s supposed to be helping me with my homework,” you blurted out and Madam Pince quirked a pencilled-on eyebrow, “You know I’m terrible with, uh, Ancient Runes.” You both had that class together.

“Yeah,” nodded Theo as he stepped around her and stood by your side, “The professor said it was okay, I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”

“As am I,” she frowned, “Tell her not to let this happen again.”

“Yes, Madam.”

With an irritated hum, she left the two of you alone. Theo turned to face you once she was out of earshot, and let out a sigh of relief before sitting down on the edge of the desk you were at.

“You’re in Slytherin,” he said obviously, “What year?”

You sucked in a breath of air, “Sixth. Yours.”

“Oh.”

His brain exploded with a million thoughts at once, his conscious and subconscious fighting for dominance. You could hear the embarrassment as he reprimanded himself for not knowing, and the confusion as he searched his memories for some sign that he had, in fact, seen you before.

“We have Potions together, and Astronomy, and Divination, and Ancient Runes, and… most of our classes, actually.” You shrugged without a care.

Theo cringed, “Sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed you before.”

“I don’t really make my presence known,” you said, “So don’t worry about it.”

“I’m Theodore Nott,” he introduced himself, hand outstretched towards you, “What’s your name? I don’t want to make the same mistake next time.”

“Y/n L/n,” you said and shook his hand. It was soft and had no callouses at all.

“I best be off, I’m missing Arithmancy.”

“Boring.”

“You’re telling me,” he chuckled and left the library.

Over the course of that afternoon, you were unable to tear your mind away from Theo, and none of your homework was completed as a result. You didn’t go to dinner in the Great Hall. Your mind was much too preoccupied to eat.

At eleven-thirty, your alarm sounded, and you washed your face in preparation for Astronomy. Professor Sinistra demanded that all her students wore their uniforms for her classes, even if said classes were at midnight, but there wasn’t a single person who ever did that other than Hermione Granger. Everyone else tended to pull their robes overtop their pyjamas and call it a day, yourself included.

The lesson wasn’t all that interesting as Sinistra had the class chart some stars for the whole hour. However, you barely managed to get anything done because you were so distracted by Theo who was sitting peacefully at the opposite side of the tower amongst his friends. Including Theo, there were five of them (you didn’t include Crabbe and Goyle, who you always thought were less friends than goons, or Millicent Bulstrode or Tracey Davis, both of whom you knew were periodically hated by the others). Two girls, three boys.

Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, and finally, Theo. At seventeen, his hair was a mostly consistent length of woody brown curls that sat fluffily on his head — if anything it was maybe a bit shorter on the sides. His eyebrows were thick as they always were, and in that particular Astronomy lesson, they were hard pressed against the tips of his long eyelashes that seemed almost too feminine to belong to him. By far the most intriguing and attractive aspect of Theo was, of course, the prominent mole on his left cheek that stole your attention away from a tight-lipped smile he had thrown your way.

Your immediate reaction was to blush and avert your eyes, but upon glancing back and noticing he was still staring, you offered him a short wave. He nodded in response before turning to Draco and saying something too far away for you to hear.

The next morning, or, perhaps, later that morning is the right expression, you went to breakfast in the Great Hall. Not having eaten dinner the night prior had left you so completely starving. You could’ve eaten a pegasus. You sat down on the edge of the Slytherin table by yourself, and loaded a plate with two eggs, about five slices of bacon (it very well could have been more, your memory isn’t perfect), a piece of toast, and a spoonful of baked beans.

“Where are all your friends?”

You looked up to see Theo standing over you chewing on the end of a breadstick.

“Why do you ask?” you questioned.

“Because you’re sitting here by yourself and it looks a bit pathetic, L/n,” laughed Theo teasingly.

“I don’t really have any friends.”

“Oh,” said Theo, “Sorry I asked.”

You shrugged, and as he glanced to the middle of the table you shoved as much of the baked beans into your mouth as possible, and quickly swallowed them. Merlin’s beard, you were so embarrassed.

“Give me a sec,” he said absentmindedly and you almost thought to use your Legilimency on him, “I’ll be right back.”

He placed his breadstick in front of you as if it were a deposit meant to reassure you that he’d be back, but you weren’t fazed either way. You watched as he jogged over to his group of friends and started chatting with them, but never sat down. With his right hand, he motioned back at you, and you glanced away as the rest of them turned to get a good look at you. Suddenly, you were concerned about how well your makeup was applied, and if your uniform looked good, and if there was still too much food on your plate. And then, all of them stood up with their plates, and followed Theo over to sit around you.

Most of them sat on the other side of the table, but Theo sat next to you, and Blaise by his other side. He introduced you to everyone: Goyle, Crabbe, Draco, Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, himself (“but you know me already,” he’d joked).

“It’s crazy to think we don’t know you despite being in the same house as you for the past six years,” said Daphne and Pansy elbowed her in the waist, sending her a death glare.

“Excuse her,” Pansy smiled awkwardly, “She’s a bitch.”

Your ears tickled at the word. You weren’t used to people calling those they were friends with such vulgar names… You weren’t used to the idea of friends at all.

Draco started rattling off about half-bloods and “that darn Potter,” spurring his friends into a rather heated conversation. They laughed and cackled loudly at each other, entirely easy around you as if it didn’t matter at all that they didn’t know you.

“Is this okay?” Theo asked you in a whisper once the group had moved on to another topic of conversation.

“Yes, this is nice,” you responded with a blush over your cheeks as you tried not to smile, “I don’t remember the last time I spoke to so many people.”

Theo’s eyes softened, glazed with a thin layer of water that informed you of his empathy. He felt your loneliness as if it was his own. The image of a young version of himself locked in his bedroom, wailing for his long deceased mother, flashed in his memories and seeped into your brain. An involuntary consequence of your extraordinary Legilimency talent.

When Saturday finally arrived, you slept in the whole morning. You only awoke at the sound of a knock on your door followed by a series of laughter at ten o’clock. You rolled out of bed, and for a moment stopped in horror of your hair in front of the mirror to quickly tie it up, and then opened the door.

You were surprised to see Pansy and Daphne there, but even more so when Daphne asked, “It’s Hogsmeade day, why aren’t you ready?”

“Huh?” You said, squinting at the light of the hallway.

“Theo sent us up to grab you, get some clothes on and let’s go,” said Pansy as she pushed past you and slipped into your room, Daphne hot on her heel, “Merlin’s beard, there’s absolutely nothing in here.”

“Yeah, uh, I’ve got it all to myself,” you muttered.

“Oh, that’s got to be terribly boring,” said Pansy.

Both of the girls made themselves at home as they rummaged through your drawers looking for something nice to wear. They were both dressed very well themselves, and it made you a little self-conscious to think they were going to see all your cheap clothes.

Pansy threw a sheer white shirt you didn’t know you had and a pair of bootleg jeans onto your bed while Daphne kicked over some matching joggers and a big white handbag you’d stolen from yout mother.

“It is terribly boring,” you said.

As the three of you descended the stairs (after you got dressed, of course), you could already hear the sounds of masculine voices teetering on yelling at one another. One of them you knew to be Theo’s, and while you weren’t particularly familiar with them, you were inclined to assume the other two voices were Draco and Blaise. At the bottom step out of the girls’ dormitory hallway, you were proven correct when you saw them bickering like old men at a weekend golf tournament.

Draco was the first to notice the three of you, and his grey eyes lit up at the sight, “L/n, come settle an argument for us.”

You walked to join the small group and stood beside Theo, your handbag held meekly between your fingers, the nails of which had magenta paint flaking off them.

“Your mate Theo here—” Draco gestured to him with an uninterested hand, and you nearly laughed at the idea that Theo was your mate more than he was any of the others’— “Thinks that we ought to have a Legilimens registry like we have for Animagi. Frankly, I think it’s absolutely blasphemous that we even have one for Animagi; let them run wild, I say! What are your thoughts? Don’t mind the coincidental pun.”

“I’m afraid I’m a bit biased in this conversation,” you spoke quietly.

“How do you mean?”

The faces of the group stared at you with raised brows, and eyes that glistened with interest, and you were red from the attention.

“Well, I’m a Legilimens,” you admitted, “So, I’d have to disagree with you, Theo, for my own sake.”

“Are you really?” Theo asked to break the silence, and you nodded shyly.

“That’s so cool!” Daphne all but squealed, “What number am I thinking of?”

“Seven.”

She brightened with delight, and slapped Pansy’s arm, encouraging her to try your magic out like a little game. Pansy did just that, and you ended up going around the whole group, describing what they were thinking of. Eight. Twelve. Bakery. Seven. And Theo was questioning why you weren’t already on the way to Hogsmeade.

With that final thought, they grew disillusioned by the game, and you began the walk to Hogsmeade.

You’d never been into town with other people before, not that you went much at all. You usually stayed in your room, or wandered the halls, towering over the first and second years who weren’t allowed to go on weekend Hogsmeade trips yet. But there you were, forming one kink in a string of knots engaging in stimulating conversation about the current condition of the world, and even boring conversation about the homework for Defense Against the Dark Arts which, to you, seemed so thrilling even if only for the fact that it was verbal discourse in some form. You’d forgotten what it was to converse with others.

“Is there anywhere you need to go once we get there?” said Theo once you were nearing the end of the path and closing in on the town.

“I would have been awake before Daphne and Pansy got to my room if I planned to go anywhere today,” you joked and he smiled, “If you don’t mind, I might just go wherever you go.”

All he offered in response was a hum, and it left you thinking that you’d somehow made the air around you awkward. You’d later come to learn that he was just like that, never much of a talker if he thought the situation didn’t call for it.

Almost instantly after we passed sign that read ‘Welcome to Hogsmeade,’ the group dispersed, and Theo and yourself were left to do as you pleased.

Your companion, it seemed, didn’t have much he wanted to do either, so he led you to the Three Broomsticks. Kindly, he offered to pay for a butterbeer or two, but you didn’t think you were close enough for that, so you humbly told him it was alright. You sat in relative silence until our drinks arrived when Theo struck up some conversation.

“What have you been doing all these years by yourself, L/n?” He asked.

“I don’t know… Stuff…”

Theo laughed, and you laughed along with him. Your mind was frazzled by the alcohol, which kept refilling itself as you chatted on, and every so often you found thoughts that didn’t belong to you creeping into yout mind, but you couldn’t place who they belonged to. It was just the odd word — sad, or pretty, or damned, or Y/n.

“Nott, are you and Malfoy good friends?” You asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“You seem to argue quite a bit.”

“He’s just like that,” said Theo, “Likes to start shit for no reason, that one.”

You giggled, and he grinned happily. Another person’s thoughts seeped into yours once again, that time a full sentence: ‘I love her laugh.’

The bell that hung over the entrance to the Three Broomsticks jingled, and though you couldn’t see it behind you, you watched as Theo’s expression morphed into one of guilt. You turned over your shoulder, and made out the figures of the four people who had come with you. Each of them were wearing a disappointed look on their faces.

“What in the name of Merlin are you two doing?” asked Pansy, her tone equal parts concerned and amused.

“Nothing,” said Theo.

“Yeah, if ‘nothing’ is code for drinking all day,” said Blaise, “Snape’s gonna have your asses for this.”

The others guided yourself and Theo back to the castle. Your hand was attached to Pansy’s forearm, Theo’s arm was slung over Draco’s shoulder. By the time you reached the Slytherin common room, You were sober enough to move on your own, and thus, started your way up to your dorm.

“Where are you going?” Theo asked curiously. He was far away enough that you couldn’t smell his breath which stunk like the vomit he’d expelled from his body halfway through the walk back.

“My room,” you said.

“No, no, no.” He shook his head and then closed his eyes from the dizziness. “It’s sleepover night. You have to come to our dorm, I made room for you on my bed.”

“I used to sleep there because he’s got the best mattress out of the three of them, but we figured you might prefer to sleep beside him than Blaise,” Daphne explained.

“Oh,” you breathed, “Do I need to contribute anything?”

You hadn’t had a sleepover before. You didn’t know the proper protocol. You assumed one would need to bring at least their pyjamas and a pillow, maybe some sweets of some kind to share. But Theo shook his head, and you were in the boys’ room before you knew what was happening.

The boys’ dorm room was the opposite of yours. So exquisitely full, and intricately messy. The three beds were all the same size as yours with dark green bed hangings, and each about a metre apart.

Closest to the door and to their small shared bathroom was Theo’s bed. On the right, beside the door to the bathroom, he had a tower of books that acted as a wall. His sheets were black, but his pillows and blanket cover were a dark oceanic blue-green. There wasn’t much room, but you spied a large mess under his bed which you assumed was what he’d removed from the bed to make space. On his bedside table sat a small lamp that provided the only light in the room before Daphne declared it was far too ‘dark and gloomy’ and turned on the central light.

On the floor, directly under the light, there was a large medieval-style rug that bore our house crest, and the others sat on it lazily, ushering you over.

“I need a smoke,” said Draco, and he walked over to the window where the ashtray was.

“Me too,” said Theo as he also moved to the window, “You want one, L/n?”

“I’ve never smoked before.”

“Then I shouldn’t get you in the habit,” he smiled, “It is such a terrible habit to have. Costs more than it’s worth.”

He pulled a box of cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to Draco, and they both lit them with their wands.

“Does it taste nice?” You asked.

“Not particularly,” said Theo.

“Why do you do it then?”

“You’re so curious, L/n,” Draco teased.

Theo playfully slapped him on the chest, “Leave her alone,” he said, and then turned to you, “I’m an addict.”

“That’s got to be bad for your lungs, Nott,” you frowned, suddenly concerned.

“Don’t you worry about him,” said Pansy, a knowing smirk on her lips that told you she was well aware you’d continue worrying.

The night went on much shorter than you wished for it to. You’d hoped, perhaps too eagerly, that none of you would ever sleep. Far too much did you enjoy being awake with those people who you’d met too late in yout life. You were truly happy to have met them because for all the simple joys you’d managed to discover in your time alone, none were half as happy as those grand joys you found with them

You all took turns getting changed in the small bathroom (Theo lent you a shirt to wear), then you all slid into our respective beds. You were nervous about sleeping beside Theo because, in truth, you didn’t really know him. But he placed a pillow between you, and only faced you for a moment — a moment in which there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher, a moment in which you attempted to read his mind all too late — and then he kissed his fingers, and he touched them to your head, and he turned the other way.

“Did you sleep well?” Theo said once he noticed you were awake the next morning.

“I’ve never slept beside someone before,” you explained nervously, “I think it was a decent experience. I hope I didn’t move around too much.”

“Not at all, L/n,” he said.

A hum escaped your mouth, and you were acutely aware that Theo was watching you as you stared up at the roof of his room. Painted on it, Sistine Chapel-style, was a beautiful lush green forest.

“L/n. It’s so formal to call you by your surname.” Theo let out a disapproving tut.

“I call you by yours?” You said as you looked at him from the corner of your eye.

“You’re the only one who does.”

“It’s your name!” You raised your voice slightly before lowering it again so as to not wake any of the others up. “What else am I supposed to call you?”

“Theo,” he said, “That’s what everyone calls me.”

“And what false-name shall I bear, then?”

He chuckled quietly as he finally sat up. He raised his long arms in a stretch that exposed the bottom of his stomach and his V-line, and you glanced away until he returned his arms down to a cross in front of his chest. You took notice of his hair, which was awfully messy in the morning, and you thought he should get his hands on a bonnet to take care of it, but then you thought he probably shouldn’t. A silk pillow would’ve done him wonders, though.

“A nickname for Y/n,” said Theo, “How about Y/n/n?”

“I suppose that will do,” you said as nonchalantly as possible, but inside you were screaming with excitement. A nickname! You’d never had a nickname before.

“Oh, you suppose, do you?” he teased.

Your amused smile betrayed your insincere attempt at a pout, “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Don’t let anyone else call you Y/n/n, alright?” said Theo, and you crossed your brows in question, “I want it to be just an us-thing. They can call you your full name at most.”

He was extraordinarily bossy. But it was sweet. Heartwarming, even.

“Wait, but if everyone calls you Theo, I want something just for us, too!” You blushed at how overly familiar that sounded, but Theo’s rosy cheeks filled you with conviction. “How about Teddy?”

Giddily, he smiled at you, “Say it to me in a sentence.”

You frowned, but obeyed, “I like being your friend, Teddy. — How was that?” He nodded happily, “You say one for mine, now.”

He thought for a moment, trying to decide on a sentence to say.

“Read my mind, Y/n/n.”

Always, he had to boss you around. But, again, you really didn’t care. It was just nice to have someone to boss you around. To think that only at the beginning of that week, you had no friends at all… Now you had so many, and all thanks to destiny. All thanks to your Teddy.

A breath, and then you forced your way into his mind. There was a picture there waiting for you, a memory from Monday. A memory of you, except, you seemed to glow. You’d seen yourself in a million mirrors and memories over the course of your life, but never had you looked so beautiful. And then, there were words.

“I’d like to go on a date with you, Y/n/n.”

Your eyes snapped open as you left his thoughts to belong to him alone.

“What?” You asked, your ears red.

“I think you’re absolutely brilliant, Y/n/n. Please, go on a date with me?” Theo smiled.

He inched closer until your noses touched and you could barely tell each others’ features apart. Each of you were just blurs of colour.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Teddy.”

Rest and Relaxation

"who's that?"

"that is the queen bee regina george. do not look her in the eye. she can smell fear."

cady rolled her eyes at damian giggling. in the small amount of time that she had known him, he had been very dramatic. janis also rolled her eyes. "she can't smell fear. but he is right, don't look her in the eyes." cady watched as the blonde girl walked up to her table holding cheese fries, sitting next to the girl that damian said "has hair full of secrets".

there was a thud as the trio turned spotting a girl struggling to carry her backpack, books, and lunch. the girl looked over at the trio, noticing janis and damian and shyly waved. they all waved back and watched as she stumbled past them.

"who's that?" damian shook his head. "that's y/n, regina's girlfriend." cady looked at the two shocked. she didn't think regina was gay. "really? she's so...shy." janis nodded as they watched y/n finally make it to the plastics table. regina's face lit up at the sight of her girlfriend. y/n smiled back and sat next to the blonde, unloading everything on the table. regina pulled y/n into a kiss, making the girl blush.

"hi baby. how is your day going?" y/n blushed deeper at the petname. "its going fine gina. i just have a lot of work to do." y/n was a nerd in the best sense. she had the highest gpa of the whole school, she was a mathlete, and she was in all advanced classes. she also had a really bad habit of overworking herself. regina hated watching her girlfriend burn out so she did her best to step in before it got bad.

"how about you come to my house with us after school? we can do a spa day for you. get you to relax a little. i know how stressed you've been." y/n's heart melted at her girlfriend's worry. as much as she wanted to do that, she had a mathletes meeting after school followed by sat prep until late at night.

y/n shook her head. "i wish i could gina, but i have mathletes until 4 and then sat prep until 8 and then i still have to finish my essay." regina sighed, scooting closer and scratching y/n's back to get her to relax a little. their moment was ruined when y/n's brother shane walked up to them. "ladies, nice to see you guys today. y/n, chris was wondering if you could possibly look over his history paper and see if its good enough for at least a b minus."

regina was about to speak up when y/n beat her to it. "yeah, just give it to me before i go to mathletes and tell him i'll have it back to him by tomorrow morning." shane smiled and ruffled his sister's hair, placing a brief kiss on her head. "thanks sis. i'll let him know." y/n smiled as her brother walked away. regina looked at her girlfriend worriedly. y/n shook her head. "it's fine gina. i'll be okay."

the bell rang, dismissing lunch as y/n stuffed all of her things in her backpack, kissing regina and heading off to her next class. gretchen watched regina deflate as y/n walked away. she put a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her. "she'll be fine regina." the blonde sighed. "i hope you're right."

y/n sighed as she opened her locker the next morning. she didn't get home until late last night and woke up earlier than usual to go with shane to football practice to give chris his essay and finish up any homework she missed the night before. she was exhausted and just wanted to go home. unfortunately for her, the world doesn't work like that and it was only going to get much worse.

for backstory, regina and y/n had been friends since 4th grade. regina had been very protective over the girl since they first met all those years ago. they met when regina stepped in and stopped a few boys from shoving y/n around. and since then, nothing had changed. regina was just as if not more protective over the girl. they had come out at the end of 8th grade which just boosted the protectiveness. ever since they came out as a couple, less people picked on y/n, though there were some who just didn't get the message.

enter ian. who had harbored a major crush on regina even after she came out. he was the stereotypical high school male. he was the captain of the basketball team, he was ripped, he was hot and every girl in north shore (except the plastics and y/n) wanted him. he felt like he was a better match for regina than y/n was and never failed to make his opinion shown every once in a while.

regina and the plastics hadn't made it to school yet and shane was in the locker room so this was his perfect opportunity. he and a couple of his friends walked up to y/n, who was reading over her ap chem homework and not paying attention. "hey there nerd. i see your guard dog isn't here." y/n rolled her eyes. "no ian, regina isn't here yet. can i help you with something?"

that was apparently the wrong thing to say as ian slapped the papers out of her hand and shoved her against a the locker next to her. at this point, people had started recording on their phones. y/n winced at the impact as the group of boys started laughing. "you don't get to have an attitude with me nerd. i think you forget where you fall on this food chain. allow me to remind you."

he brought his fist back to swing at y/n but the punch never came. the only thing y/n saw of her savior was pink nails before she was let go and ian was flying the other way. y/n looked up to see an angry regina flanked by an equally angry karen and gretchen. the two obviously weren't as close to y/n as regina was but they also had a protectiveness over her.

ian looked up scared as his friends fled the scene. karen and gretchen helped y/n pick her stuff up and dusted her off. ian shrunk in fear as regina towered over him. "i don't think you understand where you fall on this food chain, but allow me to remind YOU. you do not compare to y/n. she is so far above you that you don't even exist in her world. that being said, if i ever see you mess with her again, you will be finished."

he nodded and scrambled away. regina looked at the crowd that had formed. "anyone else have a problem with my girlfriend?" the crowd scattered as everyone went back to what they were doing. regina smirked victoriously before pulling y/n into an empty classroom, karen and gretchen standing guard outside.

regina looked over y/n for any injuries before y/n's grabbed her shaky hands and kissed both of them softly. "i'm okay, gina. just a little shaken up." regina let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding before pulling y/n into her arms. "i'm so sorry i wasn't there. i couldn't find my keys before we left so it put us behind-" y/n pressed her lips to regina's. the blonde instantly calmed as the two kissed, y/n being the first to pull away. "breathe babe. i'm okay. he's not going to mess with me again."

regina nodded and pulled y/n into another kiss, this one quicker than the last. "will you please come over after school today? i wanna take care of you. it's the weekend so you can stay the whole weekend while i help you relax. please." y/n nodded. "if it will make you feel better, yes." regina smiled and pecked y/n's lips. "good. i wasn't taking no for an answer. now, let me walk you to class?" y/n nodded and the two made their way out of the room.

regina stood against her jeep, waiting for y/n. karen and gretchen had hitched rides from shane so that way regina could take her girl straight home.the front doors to the school opened to reveal an exhausted looking y/n. regina's heart broke at the sight of the girl, she looked more exhausted than she did when the blonde saw her at lunch.

y/n shuffled to the jeep, regina grabbing her backpacks and throwing them in the backseat (carefully of course) before helping y/n into the passenger seat. regina walked around and got in, holding y/n's hand and kissing it. the girl sent her a sleepy smile and leaned her head against the window.

regina made it to her house in record time. she left the girl's bags in her car, making a mental note to ask her dad to grab them later. she helped y/n in the house and to her room, gently laying her on her huge bed. "stay right here baby. i'm gonna go run us a bath." y/n sleepily nodded, nuzzling into regina's pillow.

five minutes later, regina came out in a fluffy, pink robe, gently shaking y/n awake. "come on baby. let's get you in the bath." y/n stirred and nodded. the blonde helped her to her feet, gently pulling her into the bathroom. from there, she slowly took y/n's clothes off, head to toe. regina then got into the tub and guided y/n in, holding her to her chest.

the couple stayed in the bath for about half an hour before regina decided to get them out. luckily, y/n had been over to the blonde's house enough that she had her own little section in regina's massive closet. regina grabbed a hoodie and a pink pair of boxers for y/n and a hoodie for herself before getting them both dressed and into the bed.

y/n sunk into the soft mattress as regina gently maneuvered her to lay her head on her chest. y/n kissed regina's jaw and nuzzled into her neck. regina began scratching her nails down y/n's back. "take a nap and then when you wake up, i'll make you some dinner, and then maybe followed by dessert and a massage?"

y/n nodded before fully drifting off.

a few hours later, y/n woke up to the smell of her favorite pasta. she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stretched, getting out of bed and heading downstairs. she found regina cooking dinner with her "y/n❤️" playlist playing softly from her speaker. y/n smiled at how soft the queen bee looked before walking up and wrapping her arms around the blonde's waist.

regina smiled at the feel of her girlfriend snuggling into her back, turning the burner off and turning around. "hi baby. sleep good?" y/n nodded, pressing her lips to regina's. "what's for dinner?" regina smiled and pecked y/n's lips before explaining. "i made your favorite, cacio e pepe, some salad and garlic bread, and for dessert i made a lemon tiramisu. and after we are done eating, i am giving you a massage to get the stress of the week and especially today out of that sexy body of yours and we are going to cuddle up on my bed and watch some love is blind and you are going to sleep for more than five hours."

y/n smiled at her girlfriend, already feeling the stress of the week melt away. regina always took care of her when she needed it and she couldn't be more grateful to have her as her girlfriend. "god, i love you." regina blushed and kissed y/n's cheek. "i love you too. now, let's eat."

after they ate dinner and dessert, regina ordered y/n to take off her shirt and lay face down on the bed while she slipped in the bathroom. y/n did as told and winced a little before tossing the shirt off to the side and laying down. regina came out and lit a few candles before dropping the oil and bruise cream on the bed. she straddled y/n's lower back and gently ran her hands down the girl's back.

she leaned down and kissed y/n's shoulder gently. y/n sighed at the feel of the blonde's lips and whispered, "i love you gina." regina smiled, grabbing the bruise cream and started applying it to the newly forming bruises on y/n's back. "i love you too baby."

after a very, very, relaxing massage, y/n laid in between regina's legs as they watched "love is blind". regina had her fingers running through y/n's hair, scratching her scalp with her acrylics. y/n was drawing shapes on regina's stomach, the blonde girl shivering every once in a while. after a few episodes, regina asked y/n if she wanted anything to drink before realizing y/n was asleep. smiling, she carefully reached over to the nightstand to grab her phone, taking a picture of y/n.

she took to instagram to post the picture, smiling at the amount of cute comments their friends were leaving. she put her phone back and gently guided her and y/n into a more comfortable position. once comfy, she placed a gentle kiss on y/n's forehead, slowly drifting off.

I THOUGHT YOU KNEW

pairings: theodore nott x reader

word count: 0.9k

summary: “i thought you knew?” “you thought i knew we were dating?” “yes!” “how would i know that, nott, you never told me.”

Theodore Nott had dead eyes. That was something you had learned early on in your friendship with the boy; never expect his eyes to tell you anything. But, right now, you couldn’t help but wonder if your own advice was wrong because the look he was giving you in the moment was the farthest thing to dead. Alive.

Theodore’s eyes were ablazed, like you had lit a match in his face just as he had done with his cigarettes the night before. They looked on fire as he glared off at you, standing and chatting with some Ravenclaw boy who had decided to make the stupid of going to a slytherin party and talking to Theo’s girl.

It was a common fact that you and Theo had something, everyone knew. Well, maybe except for you.

Maybe that’s why you hadn’t expected for Theodore to waltz up to you and your new friend and throw an arm over your shoulder, and stand and listen to you too talk, not saying a word.

“Think we should get out of here?” Was the first thing he said to you, well, whispered into your ear, pulling you closer.

“I’m okay here, Teddy,” you said. Theo visible softened, melting into you at the nickname only you were allowed to call him. “You can go, though. I’ll be alright, promise.”

Theo smiled at you as you patted his arm that was wrapped around your shoulder, watching as your attention drifted back to whoever this guy was. He sighed.

“I know,” Theo started before your Ravenclaw friend interrupted.

“Yeah, mate, we’ll be okay,” he said. Theo hardened, dead eyes becoming colder as he took his arm off your shoulder, stepping forward and shoving the guy.

“Was I fucking talking to you, mate?” he spit.

“Woah!” you cut, pulling Theo back with your hand to his chest, “What the hell, Theo?”

“Yeah,” the Raveclaw pants. “What the hell, Nott? Calm down!”

Theodore sneers, glaring harshly ate the boy before hissing, “Fuck off,” and pushing past him and bumping his shoulder aggressively as he makes his way out of the common room.

Staring of at his fuming figure you quickly apologize to the boy before chasing off after Theo. When you find him, he’s angrily pacing through the hallway, running a hand through his hair.

“Theo,” you state angrily. Theo’s head whips to where you stand before shaking his head and choosing to walk away from you and down the hall.

“Theo!” you yell, walking quickly behind him. “What the fuck was that about? Can you wait for a second and talk to me?”

Theo stops, allowing you to catch up to him. You can practically see the steam coming out when he turns to you. “What am I supposed to do?” he asks bitterly. “Just let him flirt with you?”

“What?” you ask, just as bitter. “What are you talking about? Why’d you have to fucking shove, Dylan?”

Dylan. Theodore scoffs, getting madder by the second. He takes a step closer, towering over you. “So I’m just supposed to stand there when some prick is running up on my girlfriend!”

Girlfriend? What the hell was he on about. “Girlfriend?” you question, softer.

“Yes! You’re my girlfriend!” Theodore shouted. He just wasn’t getting it, was he?

“What?” you spluttered. “Since when?”

“What,” Theo got quieter.

“i didn’t know…” you said. “when did we start dating?…o-officially?”

“You didn’t know?” he repeated, incredulous. “I… I thought… I thought you knew?”

“You thought I knew we were dating?” You were getting louder, voice echoing off the walked.

“Yes!” Theo yelled, eyes getting sadder.

“How would I know that, Nott, you never told me!”

Theodore shakes his head, again getting gentle. “Don’t start calling me ‘Nott’ now, angel, you don’t do that.”

“Theo,” you reiterated, taking a breath. “When did we— when did we start ‘dating’.”

Theo looks like a kicked puppy when he says, “Last trip to Hogsmeade. We kissed.”

Looking at the ground, you say, “Just because we kissed doesn’t mean we’re dating.”

“To me, it did!”

“You kiss plenty of girls that you’re not dating!” you argue.

Theo scoffs, “They’re not you, now are they?”

“Teddy,” you say, tears quickly forming in your eyes. Looking up at him, he purses his lips, heart breaking in his chest. “Why couldn’t you have just asked me to be your girlfriend?”

“Love, I… I thought you knew, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, hugging yourself with your own arms, still holding in your tears. “Well, I didn’t.”

It’s silent between you both for a moment, nothing but you staring at the floor and Theo staring at you. Theo takes a small step forward, his hands touching where you hold yourself. “Would you?” he says, “Be my girlfriend, if I asked?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, looking up at him, “if you’d ask, you dick.”

Theo chuckles, dipping his head low and putting his lips against yours. His lips are so soft, despite how he tastes like liquor and cigarettes. He breaks apart from you, hand coming to caress your cheek. “Would you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, I would.”

not proof read 🧸

i 🫶 theo nott

mrs. & mrs. hirai

hirai momo x fem!reader

synopsis: you, an assassin, find out you’ve been married to another assassin for the better half of a decade. 

tags: mr. & mrs. smith inspired ; assassin!au ; momo runs you over with a car ; it got really soft, i’m not sorry ; smut ; angst ; fluff ; violence warning ; mentions of guns ; anything else i’ve missed ; not proofread!!

when you go into the office, you’re already in an awful mood. you’re one of the best in your field with over fifty kills under your belt. you’ve never had any issues with the target until last week. that asshole—some assassin from another firm, no doubt–totally cut off your view and the target escaped. you tried to catch up, but it was too late. now, the target was in high-security lockdown and the chances of killing him are slim to none.

jihyo had told you to take a few days to cool off so the team could investigate what went wrong with your approach. you’d grabbed some coffee for yourself from downstairs, so you got one for jihyo too. she smiles gratefully as she takes a sip of the proffered drink. “you holding up?”

“yeah, still pissed though. i almost had him.” you complain as you plop down in your seat. “morning.”

“morning.” she tosses it back as she goes through her papers. “so, we’ll walk through some of the stuff the team found but i have something better. this is your next assignment.” jihyo pushes the folder in front of you. “it’s the bitch that fucked up our last assignment. that firm has been going after too many of our targets so it’s time to take out the competition.”

thank god, something productive to do and somewhere to channel your frustration with the whole mission. you open the folder and stare. and stare. you then look up at your friend and glare at her. “that’s not funny, jihyo.”

she shoots you a confused glance. “what’s not funny?”

you put your finger on the huge printout on the front page. “that’s— that’s my wife!” it could be no other but momo looking up at you, stone-cold serious in all black, looking how you’ve never seen her before.

jihyo purses her lip. “cute, y/n.” she rolls her eyes. “that’s not your wife, that’s the competition. we need to take her out. she’s not good for business.”

you stand up in your agitation, pacing the room. “jihyo, this isn’t a joke.”

she stares for a few moments until she can tell you’re serious. her eyes widen almost comically. “wait, really? that’s your wife?” her eyes dart to the picture.

“yes! that’s momo!” you’d know her face anywhere. momo isn’t an assassin—she works for some tech company where she does a load of things you barely understand. there’s no way she’s hidden this from you.

“no way.” jihyo takes a closer look. “she’s really hot.” her eyes narrow on you. “are you sure that’s your wife?”

“yes!” you hiss, your hand coming down to strike the table. “you’ve never seen my wife. why wouldn’t she be hot?” you ask, momentarily sidetracked.

“well, if she was this hot i’d have questions. you know no one is this hot without some skeletons in their closet. which apparently, might also be a hired gun.” jihyo eyes you warily. “besides, you kind of just complain about her, y/n. i kind of imagined her i don’t know... frumpy?”

guilt tugs at your gut. you do love momo, even if things have been difficult for a long time. you married her because you loved momo and she was also great in bed and a good cover. still, seven years of marriage have worn on the two of you, and the spark you both used to have seemed lost. still, that didn’t mean she had a whole secret life.

you shake the thoughts out of your head. “whatever. the point is, what am i supposed to do? i’ve been sleeping next to an assassin for the better part of a decade?”

“i mean, isn’t she sleeping next to an assassin every night?”

“yeah, but it’s not the same— jihyo.” you lower your voice. “i won’t kill her. i can’t. she’s everything to me, even if were in a rut.” momo floated the idea of marriage counseling just last week. it seemed like the two of you might have bigger problems than that now.

“the hit has been issued though.” jihyo points out the obvious. you have never refused a hit—it’s not something that goes well in this industry.

“just give me some time? please?” jihyo is your co-worker but she’s also your closest friend. one doesn’t get far in this industry without someone to count on and for you, that’s jihyo.

jihyo sighs and bites her lip. “just hang low and let’s see if i can work something up with the team. maybe there’s an error.” she allows. “you relax and try to figure out if your babe of a wife kills people for money.”

your eyes narrow. “hey, you might be a hired gun but that doesn’t mean you can talk about her like that.”

jihyo gives you a saccharine smile. “oh, that was purely because she’s hot. see you later y/n!”

you shake your head and roll your eyes. “thanks, jihyo.” you head to your office. it looks like it’s going to be another paperwork day while you stew over this.

when you go home that night you feel like you’re walking on eggshells. you remember to take off your shoes at the door and put on the slippers that momo always lays out for you. you take a deep breath, unsure how you’re going to act normal. when you go into the kitchen, there’s momo. like always, she’s cooking, putting the finishing touches on something that smells amazing. you lean against the entryway, staring at her.

she’s always been beautiful, that was never a question in your mind from the first time you saw her when you were on a mission in bogotá. today, she’s wearing a baby blue dress that hugs her figure, and a white apron that is pristinely clean. momo’s clean and loves order, is a tremendous cook, and has a dry, if subdued, sense of humor. you know her pretty well, you think. could she really be hiding something so big from you?

momo finally catches you staring and sends you a soft smile. “hey, you. dinner is almost ready.” she walks up to you and presses a perfunctory kiss to your lips like she does every day that you come home.

“hey. it smells great.” you pull momo close, and she lets out a surprised yelp, not expecting the affection.

you look down into momo’s eyes, both eyes brown. except in the picture you received at work, she was wearing contacts to make both her eyes blue. but it’s the same face. it has to be her. you pull momo in for a hug, feeling her pressed in your arms. momo hesitantly returns it, one hand rubbing up and down your back.

“are you alright, baby?” she sounds genuinely concerned and you wonder if that’s real or if it’s a lie too. momo’s studying your face a little too intently.

you’ve been lying just as long and as well. “i’m fine. just stress at work. you know how it is.” you shrug, one of your hands squeezing momo’s waist.

momo laughs you off. “yeah, i know how that can be. although i think your job is a little more difficult than mine.” if you weren’t looking for it, you might miss the sardonic twitch of momo’s lips. she spins around and starts tending to the food again, this time serving plates.

“do you need help with anything?” you offer.

momo shakes her head, already moving things to the table. “no, i’m good. just sit down so we can eat.”

the table is artfully done, all of the cutlery just so. the handle of the knife is cold to your touch as you pick it up, holding it a little tighter than usual. you cut into your steak like butter. have your knives always been this sharp? you’ve never noticed before.

“we need to replace that curtain.” momo reminds you as she works on her own food, her eyes glancing up at the big bay windows in the living room. she’s sitting at the far end of the dining table, miles of distance between you both.

you couldn’t give three shits about the curtains. “sure.” you agree readily.

momo narrows her eyes, which in your experience, can only mean trouble. “i asked you to look at the options i picked three days ago.”

the only sound is cutlery touching the plates as you study her face. “i looked at them.” you lie. “i liked the second one.” that seems inoffensive enough.

“what color was it?” she challenges, eyes bright.

you stop moving your fork in your mashed potatoes. “what?”

she leans forward in her chair, propping her elbow on the table. “what color was it, y/n?”

you consider her for a moment. momo never really angers with you—but maybe she does. maybe you know nothing about her after all. “blue.” you toss out.

a look of clear irritation passes her face but then it’s gone, shuttering away. “you must mean the green. i’ll order it tonight.”

youre sawing at your steak now. “sounds lovely.”

momo turns back to her food, and you do the same. it feels like a thick fog of tension has rolled over you both—every time your eyes catch, they dart away, minding your food and your wine glasses.

a thought strikes you as you take in the careful way that momo regards you. if momo’s cover is blown, then so is yours probably. but there’s no way to be sure. at least, it’s not something you’ll discover over a dinner conversation.

you walk to the middle of the table, picking up the bottle of wine that’s there. you quietly pad over to momo. she looks at you, a tightness in her eyes that hadn’t really left since the two of you started dinner. just as you reach momo, you stop, pouring her glass full of wine.

you don’t bother to look at the glass, instead staring at momo. she gives you an even stare back, leaning back and gripping the arms of her chair.

“thank you.” she murmurs quietly as you finish.

you don’t bother responding instead letting go of the bottle suddenly. in a flash, momo’s arm springs forward, catching the bottle before it hits the ground. if you thought things were tense before, it doesn’t even begin to compare to now. you can feel the realization sink in your gut—it’s momo. momo, the hired gun that fucked up your last assignment, your next target—all of it is momo.

“lucky catch,” you say, even though the two of you both know it’s not true.

momo drops the bottle as if it burned her, red wine staining the white rug.

“clumsy me.” she gets out of her seat. “i need something in the kitchen to clean this up.” momo turns quickly, her steps measured but fast as she walks away.

you walk toward your office just as quickly. you can just tell that there’s no going back and momo is a hostile threat the same way she was on the tarmac last week. you find one of your guns hidden in the drawer, drawing it and holding it out in front of you. you’ll be damned if you let momo kill you.

as you creep along the wall slipping out of your office, you think you must be losing your mind. but there was no feigning the knowledge in momo’s eyes, the caught look when she used cat-like reflexes you didn’t even know she had.

“honey?” you call out loudly, hoping to catch momo unaware. you hear the rev of the engine and curse when you see momo’s car pelting out of your driveway.

“fuck!” you run after her, knowing that your only chance is to cut through the backyards and hope you catch up to her. there’s no way you can start up your car in time. after a split second, you’re running full tilt out of the house, gun in hand. you pray the neighbors don’t see.

you cut through one yard and catch sight of momo’s taillights. “momo!” you bellow out. “we need to talk about this!” it’s ridiculous to think you’ll take the bounty on momo’s head—the both of you just need to figure this out. you both are married, for as much as its worth now. even if you both lied to each other, you’re not going to murder her.

momo’s car keeps revving forward, and you make the decision to cut through another yard. your lungs burn as the cold air cuts through them. you grunt as you hop up, hitting your gut on the fence as you swing over. you’re actually ahead of momo’s car now which is a relief.

as you pull yourself over the fence, your grip on the gun tightens and you feel the recoil as you accidentally pull the trigger. you look up at momo’s car pulled to a full stop, a hole in the windshield. it takes you a moment to realize your bullet put it there. your heart clenches as you look at momo through the window, checking to see if she’d been hurt. she isn’t, but her eyes are tightened to near slits and her mouth drops open in outrage as she stares at the bullet hole.

your stomach drops. “fuck, fuck, fuck.” this is going to be worse than the time you forgot momo’s mom’s birthday.

you make your way in front of the car slowly, hands up in surrender. “baby, let’s talk about all this.” you give her a tentative smile. momo’s expression doesn’t change, and she revs the engine. “momo,” you say sternly. “you can’t just run me—”

getting hit by a car is worse than you anticipated, especially when momo doesn’t stop. you barely get a grip on the roof of the car, holding on as the car careens forward. “momo.” you spit out but you’re sure it gets lost in the wind. you bang your hand on the windshield, but it does no good either.

you hear the door open, and snaps shut. by the time you turn to look back, momo is rolling on the ground and you’re still hanging off of the roof of her car. “momo! this isn’t how were supposed to—”

you feel your body fly off the roof, and onto the ground with a thud that rattles your bones. you take a deep breath and feel your vision blur. you try to fight it, but you lose consciousness on the hard ground.

you knock quietly on jihyo’s door. there’s nowhere else that’s safe for you to go, especially in the middle of the night. you obviously can’t go back home.

she’s bleary-eyed when she answers but the moment jihyo takes you in, her eyes are wide and she’s on full alert. “what happened to you?”

“my wife.” you walk in, your whole body aching. you’d woken up with what you assume is a concussion and a searing headache. not to mention a ton of twigs in your hair.

“you look like a car ran you over.”

you let out a harsh laugh. “it did.”

she opens her door wider, gesturing for you to come in. “oh. yeah, sit down i’m going to get the first aid kit.”

you stare into space as you hear jihyo shuffling about. you knew it from the moment you saw the picture, but it still feels impossible. “i can’t believe she lied to me.” momo is always going on about honesty, about trying for your relationship. and yet, she was living a whole other life.

jihyo scoffs as she tends to a cut on your cheek. “really? not like you were the most honest person in that relationship.”

“it’s different!” you insist. “i married her because i loved her.” momo didn’t want to talk, and she ran you over with her car. the moment her cover was blown, it’s like she didn’t care at all.

you shake your head. your marriage hadn’t always been like this. you remember days when the two of you first got together, when the two of you lay naked in bed all day, touching each other with gentleness and passion. sure, the two of you married young and it was convenient for you—you needed a cover—but you love momo. or at least, whoever you thought momo to be.

“look, you should get some rest. you’re clearly upset.” she advises. “and probably a shower before that.”

“upset? my wife wants to kill me, jihyo.”

“you don’t know that.” she grabs a towel out of a utility closet and hands it to you.

you hold the towel lightly between your hands. “she ran me over with a car. how else do you interpret that?” you shake your head. “besides, if my firm issued her out as a target to me, i bet you anything her firm did the same.” the two of you are stuck in a loop that’ll probably only end with one of you dead or on the run.

“maybe she’s as confused as you are. vulnerable. she probably didn’t know about you either.” she reminds you as she shepherds you to the bathroom.

“well, she didn’t seem very vulnerable—” you hiss as your face stings from the ointment jihyo roughly applies. “—when she hit me with her car.”

“you seem really offended by the car thing.” you balk and jihyo holds up a hand. “shower and sleep. i’m not dealing with this nonsense at two in the morning.”

you and jihyo search for momo for two days and the two of you can’t find anything. her office has moved, and her car isn’t there when you’ve driven by the house. jihyo has been coordinating with the team at the firm, pulling on those resources too to try and find her. it takes you that amount of time to gather the courage to go back into your house. 

you have your gun out and pointed to the ground as you walk in. you feel strangely emotional as you walk in, slowly passing by all the rooms the two of you lived your lives together in. something catches your eye—the curtains are different. it’s the green that momo had mentioned. 

“why would she come back and change the curtains?” you mutter under your breath. another thought comes to you. “she’d already bought the stupid things before asking my opinion.” it’s so like momo to just take over something like that, only asking for approval after the fact. why even ask you what you thought? she practically decorated the house single-handedly anyway. you set aside your annoyance as you get to your bedroom. 

at first, nothing looks truly out of place. your eye catches something in the corner of the room. you peer inside the trash can and swallow a lump in your throat. with shaky hands you pull out what you find in it, hoping it’s not what you think. your gut drops. it’s the videotape of your honeymoon, tossed away as if it were nothing. momo had definitely been back to the house and with this, she’s made a statement. you look to momo’s side of the closet and there are clothes missing.

you open one of momo’s drawers, finding a stack of her lingerie. your eyes catch on a black one that you bought her to celebrate your fifth wedding anniversary. you remember the night well—the two of you hadn’t fought at all, you and momo spent the night together, laughing and kissing. you pull out the soft nightie, something panging in your chest.

“she’s not really your wife.” you murmur to yourself.

you have to accept the fact that you don’t know momo. you’re fighting for your life now and momo is a stranger, not the woman you’d sworn your life to. if this upheaval has taught you something, it’s that you can’t trust anything that you thought about your marriage. still, you’re weak and you miss momo. you’ve been missing momo for a long time now. you pull the soft fabric to your face, inhaling. it smells just like her. you shove it back in the drawer and close it.

you look at the nightstand on the side of the bed and notice momo’s phone is there. she’d probably picked up a new one. you pick it up and look through the recent calls, calling the last number. you hold your breath.

“golden real estate.” says a chipper voice on the line.

“hi, there i’m calling from hysteria industries.” you give the name of momo’s supposed employer.

“oh, of course! how are you liking the new space?” the voice fills with recognition.

you smile. you have a lead. “it’s working out just fine.” you lay back on your bed. “i have some furniture i need to ship, can you help me out with that?” you would find momo one way or another.

it only takes you another day to be ready to confront momo. you feel the elevator in the new golden real estate building stand still suddenly and you know you’ve been found by momo. you expected as much when you got in the elevator.

a deep voice comes through the speaker on the elevator. “it seems like your elevator has stopped functioning, ma’am. do you want me to send an engineer to see what the problem is?”

the voice isn’t just deep, its distorted. you grin. “no, i’m comfortable right here.” you offer flippantly.

there’s a pause. “is that sarcasm?”

you find the security camera in the corner and stare right at it. “i know it’s you, momo.”

“are you sure you’re comfortable, y/n?” the voice that comes through is husky and teasing—you could imagine that the two of you are in your room alone, instead of trapped in an elevator at momo’s mercy. you’d give anything to go back to a time like that.

“why don’t you come out here and face me? preferably without a car windshield between us.”

“no time for jokes, dear.” you lean your hands on the elevator walls, listening to momo’s voice. “this is your first and last warning, y/n. get out of town.”

you shake your head slowly. “you know i’m not going anywhere.”

“so, you say. but you’re dangling in a steel box with sixty stories of air beneath you.”

your eyebrows climb up your face. “oh, is this a trap then?”

“you think i’d be dumb enough to leave my phone for you to find with a sensitive number on it? i thought you were more than just a pretty face, baby.”

“well, at least you still think it’s pretty.” you quip. as if you didn’t suspect this was a trap from the start. “So what? you have a charge on the counterweight cable and two more on the brakes?” you list off all of the explosives you disabled before you got into the elevator. the silence runs long, and you know momo didn’t expect that of you. “whatever your plain is, it won’t work because you always underestimate me.”

“oh, i do?” momo sounds amused.

“you have no idea what i’m capable of.” you know that’s true, even if you don’t think you could stomach seriously hurting momo. momo always took over everything because she doesn’t think you’re able to do things.

“likewise, baby. did you check the base of the principal elevator cable?” you freeze—you hadn’t seen that. well, fuck. there’s a sigh that blows out of the speaker. “first and last warning, y/n.” she repeats again, this time more sternly. “promise to leave town, or i’ll blow it.”

you lift your hands up into the air. “alright, i give up. blow up the elevator.” despite all the evidence to the contrary, you refuse to believe momo will actually kill you. maybe you’re a fool but you refuse to believe there isn’t some truth to you both being together.

“excuse me?” momo’s voice is strained.

“do it. blow it up.”

“five... four...” her voice trails off. “i’ll do it.” it’s that stubborn tone she gets when the two of you are fighting about which china set to put out for a dinner party. you lean your head against the elevator wall for a moment, hiding your face. god, you miss her.

you look back into the camera and shoot it a smile, imagining momo on the other end. you wish you could see her. “come on now, momo. all talk?”

“any last words?” momo’s voice is smug over the telecom again.

“the new curtains are hideous.” you can’t help but get a dig in.

“goodbye, y/n.” there’s an echo of her laugh in the curl of her words. the elevator that’s rigged—the elevator that momo thinks you’re in—goes into a freefall.

you take a deep breath as you hear the thunderous noise of the elevator you’d been pretending to be in crash into the first floor. you’re about to unplug the cable you’d used to confuse the signals of the elevators, a deep disappointment in your bones. momo really doesn’t care.

just before the connection dies, you hear momo panicked voice come through the line “what the hell was that? i didn’t—”

you pull out the cable and stare at it, almost in wonder. it sounded like real fear, fear for you. maybe not everything is lost after all.

you stay low for a few days but then it’s christmas eve. part of you realizes that momo’s panic could have been for a number of reasons—it didn’t mean she wouldn’t have killed you. but the idea of her being alone on the holiday makes your heart clench. besides, you’re not planning on backing down and being on the run your whole life. when you found out momo made reservations at a familiar restaurant for the holiday, you buy a tailored suit and plans to surprise her there.

you’re glad you catch sight of momo before she sees you because it takes a moment for you to collect yourself. she’s in a dark slinky number with a neckline that shows off the slope of her collarbones. she’s staring vacantly ahead, a single shimmering tear on her cheek. almost angrily, she brushes it off and tilts back her champagne flute, demolishing the drink in one swig.

momo has her hand on the bottle when you come up right beside her. “you wouldn’t be getting all mushy because you killed me, right?”

for a moment, you’re worried momo is going to bash your head in with the champagne bottle from the way her hand tightens on it. you can see the genuine surprise as her eyes rake over you.

“how...?” her voice is barely a whisper, more of a sigh as she drinks you in.

you stuff your hands in your suit pockets, shrugging. “are you impressed?”

“amazed.” it doesn’t even sound sarcastic, and it makes your traitorous heart beat faster.

“amazed i’m still alive?” you make your way to the chair across from momo, sitting down.

she seems to get over her initial shock, jutting her chin up. “amazed you managed to tie your tie on your own.”

you bite your lip to keep in your smile. it was one of your favorite things when the two of you got married. momo would fuss over your tie, making sure it was perfect before pulling you close and giving you a sweet kiss. you can’t remember when she stopped doing that. “thanks, i’m full of surprises.”

momos still eyeing you with something akin to hunger now. “that suit is certainly one of them.”

“thanks.” you think of saying something about how fantastic momo looks but think better of it.

you shift the gun you brought out of your suit jacket and onto your lap. you can tell from the way momo shifts her weight she has a weapon of choice in her lap as well.

“hands on the table?” momo suggests lightly. you nod, doing as momo asks, watching for her hands to do the same. “how did you know where—”

“i proposed here on christmas eve seven years ago. i had a hunch you might be feeling sentimental.” it was less of a hunch than a hope. your heart jumped to your throat when you realized momo made a reservation here, on this night of all nights. you had to come.

momo frowns, eyes guarded. “i came for the clams.” she huffs, looking away.

your eyes trail over her again. she looks so good; it feels impossible for one woman to be this beautiful. “is this a new dress?”

momo rolls her eyes in irritation at the small talk. “what do you want, y/n?” she cuts to the chase, one of the hands bunching on the white tablecloth.

you lean forward, careful to keep your hands visible. “we need to talk.” it’s been all you’ve wanted since this whole mess started.

“about what?”

your eyebrows raise of their own accord. “us.”

she scoffs. “there is no us.”

you feel anger at the denial. “so, there’s nothing between us then?” how dare she just give up? if everything is up in smoke now, it only means there used to be a fire. you and momo burned brightly, and you need to know it was real, if only for your sanity.

she stares coldly at you. “only a table.”

you stand up slowly, pocketing your gun. you walk around the edge of the table and hold your hand out for momo. she stares at it uncomprehendingly until you nod to the dance floor.

“really?” you nod and pull her onto the dance floor. momo rolls her eyes. “you don’t dance.” she informs you dryly.

you lift your arms into a perfect frame and turn your face away, as the tango demands. you smirk when you hear momo’s sharp intake of breath. “all part of the cover.” you say loftily.

momo doesn’t miss a step either, your bodies moving together in a way that’s different than you’re used to. you’ll never get to tell momo now, but you have always wanted to dance with her.

“were the clothes on the bathroom floor every morning part of the cover too?” she grouses as you turn her. you take a step too far, pressing momo onto the wall, not hard enough to injure her but enough for her to realize you’re not fucking around.

you keep moving, not letting momo catch her breath as you reach one hand under her dress, grabbing the outside of her thigh. you keep reaching up until you find what you’re looking for, ignoring all of the soft skin there in favor of the dagger momo is hiding. you throw it sharply, and it pierces the far wall with a dull thud.

momo reaches behind you, grabbing your ass and then sliding her hands up to your waistband, pulling out the gun there, dropping it, and kicking it out of reach. the two of you don’t stop dancing and you ignore the way that momo’s hips move although it’s all you want to think about.

“if i knew you could dance like this, maybe i wouldn’t have thought you were so boring.” its sharp and angry, words meant to cut you.

you pull her into a dip, keeping the two of you there for a moment. “who cares if i was boring? i was just a cover to you.” you accuse openly.

she arches her brow, her foot grazing your calf, almost making you lose your balance. “who said you were just a cover?”

“wasnt i?” you demand to know. how much of your marriage was even real?

momo falters for a moment before she looks determined, a hired gun once again. “excuse me.” she says coldly heading up the stairs.

“there are no exits here.” you point out, although you’re not sure why this would be a perfect opportunity to catch her and end this once and for all.

“i’ll make one.” she spits out before she keeps walking, sliding between people until she’s out of your reach.

you stare after momo, digging your heels in to keep from chasing. she’s a liar. you just need to wait her out. you watch as a few people run and then there’s an explosion upstairs. fuck. you watch as streams of people run out of the restaurant, making it possible for momo to hide in plain sight. you use your height to look over most of the heads in the crowd, looking for familiar brown hair. you think you see her and walk quickly, making it out of the restaurant.

you’re looking around when you bump into an old man. “ma’am, you’re ticking.”

you freeze. amongst the commotion, you hadn’t heard the ticking coming from your suit jacket. you quickly strip it off, throwing it into a mailbox a few feet away. “get back!” you tell, waving your hand and running away from the bomb. it’s a small explosion but if it had been on your person, it definitely wouldn’t have down well. you shake your head. “momo.” you curse. you’d lost sight of her.

you quickly find her car and press your foot on the gas pedal, getting onto the highway as fast as you can. for the first time since this whole mess started, you call momo. 

“you tried to kill me.” you accuse, your hand tight on the steering wheel.

momo laughs. “it was a little bomb, y/n. lighten up.” she sighs. “why did you call me?”

“why did you answer?” all of the noise on momo’s side of the line makes you think you’re on the highway too. it gives you a direction, although you have no evidence of where momo is actually going. “never mind that. i want you to tell me something different. tell me, what was the first thing you thought when you met me.” the silence lingers, only the sound of traffic assuring you that momo hasn’t hung up. you have a knot in your throat. “because i thought... the first time i saw you momo, i thought you were the most beautiful woman id ever seen in the day of my life.” you can almost imagine her, dressed to the nines in that tiny bar. her taunting smirk, first at the bar and then looking up at you from the hotel sheets.

“why are you asking me that? why are you telling me this?”

“i guess when you get to the end of something you think of the beginning.” you can see the writing on the wall. this is going to end poorly no matter what and momo’s lost to you. “i just thought you should know the truth.” you want momo to have at least that silver of it. the suggestion that your relationship was real. at least, for you it was. “so. are you going to tell me?”

“i thought you were the most beautiful cover id ever seen.”

your blood freezes in your veins. “so, it was all business from the beginning.”

“mhm. all business. just cold, hard... math.” her voice cracks and all the background noise cuts off but when you look down the call is still going. momo muted herself.

“that’s what i needed to know.” you hang up. you grab the next exit, and you can see momo’s car ahead of you. you speed up, riding her bumper. you can’t believe your wild guess is right and momo went to your house. you smash your car into momo’s as the both of you hit the driveaway.

you’re all instinct as you pull out of the car running as fast as you can and crawling over the hedge. you find your toolshed, where you keep your weapons cache, and open the door. you’re sure momo is looking for wherever she has her stash. you quickly find a silencer, putting it on the gun you had at the restaurant. you stuff your waistband with another two guns and your pockets with ammunition. you also quickly put in ear plugs. 

you listen and you can’t hear a damn thing outside. you quickly but quietly make your way into the house. the front door is wide open, so you use the back. chances are momo is waiting for you to walk in blind and she’s set up a trap for you there. you walk through the hallway, not finding momo. you stop when you get to the walkway that leads to the open area of the living room.

you know you can’t look around that corner without being a wide-open target. you look around and grin when you find something of use. you pick up a framed picture of you and momo to try and see around the corner, using the reflective surface like a mirror. you catch a glimpse of momo, and you pull it back. it looks like momo’s set up on the stairwell with some kind of shotgun. 

you’re unsure if momo saw the movement of the frame, but you don’t have to wonder for long. multiple bullets spray through the wall, confirming what you already knew. you throw yourself on the ground, cupping your ears against the loud sound of the shots.

“fuck.” you mutter under your breath, but you can barely hear it over the ringing in your ears, even with the ear protection. you crawl as silently as you can down the hallway.

“are you still alive, baby?” you hear momo’s voice ring out along with the heavy clunk of the magazine.

you’re tempted to respond but then another thought occurs to you. you make a half-choking sound and imitate a dull thump on the ground. your house is filled with silence.

“y/n?” this time sounds more concerned, and you can hear her get closer.

you start shooting immediately through one of the holes made by the shotgun, watching as momo ducks and rolls out of the way running into the living room. you duck yourself as the bullets spray through the wall she is using for cover.

you quickly run out of your first round of bullets, and you hear a curse from the kitchen, and you figure momo did too. you take a chance and run into the kitchen at full tilt, taking momo by surprise as you tackle her. momo decks you across the face and pushes you against the wall, making you grunt in pain. you push back, using your height advantage to get out of the hold momo has you in. 

momo is faster than you and manages to dart out of the kitchen. you can hear her reloading and you quickly do the same, heart beating loudly in your chest. you hide in the next room over standing stalk still to not give away your position. you slow your breathing, trying to think of where momo might have gone. it’ll likely be the bathroom or back out to the living room. the bathroom is too closed off, but the living room is too open. neither is ideal in this situation. 

you turn and almost knock down a vase. you manage to grab it, biting your lip and hoping that jostling that stupid thing wouldn’t cost you your life. you recognize it as one that momo bought at a garage sale a few years back. the bullets start coming from the living room and you have to run again. you trip and end up on your back, which is fine for the moment because momo runs out of bullets again. you get up and think to run past momo in the living room to get back to the other hallway. 

you only realize your mistake when you’ve already entered the living room—momo wasn’t reloading at all, she’d just pulled out her handgun. she has it trained on you, taking a step closer until you both are face to face, guns trained on each other. 

you can see the absolute rage in momo’s eyes as she holds the gun up to your chest and suddenly all the fight gives out in you. when you think of pulling the trigger this close, you feel nauseous. the two of you have been fighting but you know you can’t kill momo. you’ve always known that.

you lower your gun slowly to momo’s disbelief. “i give up.” you say simply.

momo lets out a snarl, tamping her foot down. “no! pick it back up, y/n.” she demands, her own hands trembling on the gun. “pick it up.” she nudges the barrel of your gun with her own.

you smile sadly at her. you grab the barrel of momo’s gun and press it tightly over your chest. the metal feels cold against you, but it doesn’t matter. it’s the closest you’ll ever get to a kiss from momo ever again. “you want it? it’s yours.” your heart has always been momo’s. if she wants to blow through it with a bullet, that’s her right.

momo’s face crumples, tears shining in her eyes in what can only be an expression of heartbreak. it hurts more than any of the hits she’s landed since the two of you started fighting. momo tosses her gun, and it clatters on the ground. suddenly, momo is in your arms and you’re on the receiving end of a bruising kiss.

the force of it makes you fall backward but by no means does it mean you both stop. momo kisses you with everything she has, and you can’t help but respond, offering yourself up in return. you’re not sure if momo loves you or wants to kill you, but you’d happily take this over what the two of you had been doing.

you let your hands roam momo, pulling her close and listening to the groan she releases, and you manage to get a hand inside her dress. “fuck, momo.” you curse, your lips looking for purchase on her neck.

momo tears through your shirt. you’re sure the buttons make some type of noise as they land around the two of you, but you can’t hear past the ringing in your ears. you pull out the earplugs, but it isn’t much better. you can’t find any part of you that cares. you just want to be with momo. it won’t be the first time you make love to her with partial hearing, and it probably won’t be the last.

you turn so that you’re on top, hiking momo’s thigh and hitching it to your hip. “baby, please.” you’re sure you’re almost yelling it, but momo probably can’t hear well either. you’re not sure what you’re begging for, whether for momo to stop or to keeping. to love you or to just put you out of your misery.

momo reaches out, her hands gentle for once, as she tilts your face. your dark hair curtains both of you, like the two of you are closed off from the world. “y/n, i love you.” you have to read momo’s lips to make sure you’ve heard it right but it’s worth everything. “i always have.”

you can feel tears well up in your eyes. “i love you too. more than anything.” you lean down and kiss her again.

you feel momo widen her legs, making room for your hand to creep higher on her thigh. you pull off momo’s dress and when you’re inside of her, when the two of you both groan into each other’s skin and are overcome with the emotions and physical sensations, it’s like the night the two of you met at the bogotá all over again. 

it takes hours for you to sleepily open your eyes after momo runs you ragged. your house is in ruin around you both but with momo lounging on your chest, all you feel is calm. you realize momo is also awake when she turns her head, catching your gaze.

“i love you.”

momo’s eyes soften further, and she leans up, placing a soft kiss on your lips. “me too, baby. i love you so much.”

“tell me something about you. something real.” you ask quietly, your fingertips running up and down momo’s arm.

“i suck at cooking.” she says bluntly.

you can’t help but gasp, looking down at momo. “but all the dinners? you cook fantastic.” ever since the two of you were married, momo was always in charge of your kitchen.

she shakes her head, nuzzling further into your chest. “the firm has them brought every day. it was part of my cover.”

you look at her wide-eyed. “my favorite casserole?” you whine in disbelief.

momo laughs, tucking herself even closer to your side, like she can sink into your skin. “oh yeah, baby. that’s all gone now.” a quiet settles around you both as the two of you think of the implications of that statement. if you both don’t kill each other the both of you certainly don't have a way to complete either of your hit contracts. you knew you’d never complete yours, but you’d never thought this far ahead.

“fuck, mo. what are we going to do?” the two of you haven’t talked anything out and you have no clue what options you both even have. “we have to get their traces off of us.”

“well, how do we do that when they want us both gone if we don’t kill each other?”

you place a soft kiss on the top of momo’s head. “i’m not sure, but we can figure it out together.” you can feel momo tensing, worrying about the very real danger the two of you are in. “hey.” you tilt momo’s face to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. “i love you.” you say seriously. you’re never going to stop saying it ever again.

momo kisses you fully, leaning over you. “i love you too. and i’m sorry.” her hand gestures to the house that is falling apart. almost as if on cue, one of the picture frames falls off the wall.

you shake your head. “we have insurance.” you joke, your arm snaking around momo’s waist.

momo doesn’t laugh. “no, y/n. we just tried to kill each other. i’m sorry.” she presses a kiss to your cheek.

“we’ve been through worse i’m sure.” you kiss her fully.

she raises an eyebrow. “worse than this?”

“remember that time i forgot our anniversary?”

“oh yeah, that was bad.” she leans forward and places a tender kiss on your cheek. “fuck you, it was the fifth one too.”

“i was concussed! i didn’t know what day it was! i’d spent three days in four different time zones too.” momo had let you have it for weeks and you had stayed silent unable to disclose any of the reasons why you forgot.

“no excuse. i still remembered our third anniversary after getting shot in the foot.”

you pull back to see if momo is being serious. “how did i miss that?”

“it glanced off my boot mostly.” she gives you an impish grin.

you glare. “drama queen.” the two of you settle back into each other’s arms. your ass is numb from laying on the living room rug but you’re not going to be the one to suggest you both to move. you probably have rug burn but it feels like a warm moment between you both and you don’t want it to end.

“i can’t believe you can dance.” momo sighs wistfully.

you feel a pang of regret for all the dances that could have been if the two of you had been honest. “sometimes when i’d see you dancing— i’d do anything to dance with you.”

“you can dance with me now.” you soothe, ignoring your predicament entirely. 

“i’ll dance with you whenever you want, baby.” you hum to yourself. “oh! i was married once before.” you add to the pile of things you’d never disclosed before.

“excuse me?” momo turns and glares at you.

you shrug. “it was a vegas thing, wasn’t important.” you’d been young and the two of you had gotten a quick divorce—you honestly forgot at times you were married to anyone before momo.

“what’s her name and social security number?” momo asks, eyes cold and calculating.

you shake your head and laugh. “absolutely not, you aren’t killing her.”

momo buries her head in your shoulder. “i could.” she grumbles.

“you probably could but that isn’t very nice.” you try to keep the laugh out of your voice but it’s hard. the jealousy is silly and unnecessary, but it warms you anyway.

“i don’t have parents,” momo reveals.

“what? who showed up to our wedding then?”

“paid actors.”

it’s silly but your mind jumps to something else. “so, i never forgot your momo’s birthday.” you point out.

“it was the principle of the matter, y/n.” momo sounds a little huffy and you run your fingers down her back to soothe her.

“yeah, that’s true.” you concede. as many lies as there are piled between you both, you know that there were other things wrong with your marriage too. it feels far away now, though. you’ve never felt closer to momo. “can i ask you something?”

“of course, anything.”

“why did you throw out the honeymoon video?” it’s barely a whisper because you’re afraid to ask it.

momo winces. “you noticed that?” you nod, biting your lip to keep yourself from saying more. “i… when i realized that you’d had this other life, i felt so betrayed. i didn’t think you loved me. i felt used.” momo starts haltingly. “the girls — nayeon and mina, i work with them — they just started watching it when i came to pick up my stuff. we looked so happy in it. and you looked at me like—” her voice is filled with tears, “—like you loved me.”

“i do love you. then and now.” you remind gently, brushing a stray tear off of momo’s cheek.

“it didn’t feel that way then. i couldn’t bear to see it, so i tossed it. tossed out the lie.” she explains.

you nod. you understand it well—you’d had the same doubts and fears that momo did. “know this. now and forever, it’s you and me, okay? you’re my wife.” you cup her jaw and bring your lips together.

momo sighs when the two of you part. “okay,” she agrees.

you don’t want to leave but the two of you are probably in danger of getting shot naked if you both push this any longer. “from your firm, is there anyone you’d trust with your life?”

“sana,” momo says without hesitation. “she’s like a sister to me.”

“okay. you get sana, i’m going to get jihyo — she’s the person i trust — and we are going to figure out how to get these contracts off our backs.” you sigh. “and then we can kill our enemies and we’re safe, we can go to marriage counseling.”

momo lets out a soft gasp. “you didn’t want to go before.”

“i was being an idiot before.” there’s nothing worse than losing momo. be it a hitman contract or insidious complacency, you’re not letting anything tear the two of you apart.

“is it bad if i think it’s really sexy when you shoot things?”

you laugh and shake your head. “no, because i think the same.” you place a kiss on momo’s shoulder. “let’s see if we have any clothes without bullet and let’s get our life back.”

momo smiles at you so tenderly, you think you would be okay with dying right then and there.

Follow the White Rabbit | jjk (m)

pairing: idol! jungkook x idol! reader

genre: smut, idols au.

words: 8.2k

summary: Jungkook never involves with other idols, valuing his reputation above everything else. That’s until he learns about you. But when his attempt to get closer to you falls short because of false rumors, you’re determined to make it up to him.

author’s note: all characters are 18+(!); this is a stand alone story. however, i do have some ideas for more parts, so let me know if anyone would be interested in more parts ♡

“Every adventure requires a first step.”

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