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dreamsteddie · 2 days ago

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Can't Take My Eyes Off You

Written for the @stmarchmm day one prompt “courting rituals” | Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Courting Rituals, Alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington - Also on Ao3

Bat divider -@popmilky | Diamond divider - @inklore

Eddie knows he doesn’t have much going for him in terms of mating material.

Despite presenting as an Alpha early at age twelve, something that should have given him some kind of status in a town like Hawkins, there’s always been something about him that makes people turn their noses up at him, close doors in his face. He’s kind of wishy-washy when it comes to the things he’s not passionate about, he smells like wet pavement and cigarette smoke, and can’t for the life of him seem to graduate high school.

He also can’t grow a beard, can’t remember to separate the darks from the lights, can’t tie his shoes without using the bunny ears method, can’t hop in place and rub his tummy, can’t-

Well the point is, there are a lot of “can’t”s in his life and never a whole lot of “can”s

The one thing Eddie can do without a shadow of a doubt is pursue delusions of grandeur with a single-minded determination. No matter how hard this shit-hole town and all its designation-obsessed inhabitants have tried to beat him into the dirt over the years, he’s never let go of his dreams. Some day, he’s going to play songs for the entire goddamn planet, making millions of dollars off lyrics inspired by all the games and books that have gotten his head shoved in the Hawkin’s High toilets over the years, and Mayor Kline will have to give him a key to the city while Eddie Munson, town freak, gives him the middle finger.

And, if all the stars align and the Big Guy upstairs he doesn’t believe in does him several solids, he’ll be doing it with Steve Harrington standing by his side.

The guys think he’s crazy—Eddie thinks he’s crazy—but Eddie is determined to give his all into courting Steve Harrington before their shared senior year ends. He’s, by and large, the most eligible Omega in all of Hawkins, even with his recent breakup with Nancy Wheeler under his belt. No amount of ditching the popular crowd, adopting a bunch of children, and becoming best friends with band geek Robin Buckley has been enough to deter the Alphas of Hawkins High, even if some of them won’t admit it.

Eddie takes great pleasure in watching every failed courting offer. Steve has always been picky about who he lets take him out, but he hasn’t taken up a single Alpha’s offer since Nancy and the rejections are getting more brutal by the day. Eddie suspects it’s Robin’s influence and if that is the case he needs to thank her profusely because Eddie goes a little weak in the knees every time he sees Steve literally turn up his perfect nose at an offer.

So, the odds aren’t looking good. Steve is picky and Eddie is famously a poor, nobody freak, not the kind of guy with the resources to properly woo a guy like Steve, but what Eddie does have is a lot of passion and a strong desire to prove himself.

So Eddie has a capital P Plan.

“Hey Buckley,” Eddie says sliding up to the girl where she’s packing up at the bleachers after practice. She gives him a scrutinizing look and clearly finds him lacking, squinting her eyes at him like he’s a little bug landed on her shoulder. Irritating and suspicious. Which, rude. “I was wondering if a fine lady like yourself would happen to know what one Steve Harrington might be hoping for in a courting” Robin clearly wasn’t expecting him to come right out and ask, her blue eyes going wide.

“What the fuck, Munson!” She crows, clearly embarrassed by his lack of tact.

“What!?” He fires back, not understanding what the big deal is. He wants to court Steve and Robin is the best source of information on how to go about it.

“You can’t just ask that, you doofus,” she hisses, lavender scent going smokey like brush fire.

“Why not? I want to court him, like, publicly. Everyone’s gonna know in a couple weeks anyway. Shouldn’t you be glad you’re the first to know?” He huffs. He knows it’s not exactly the done thing to go around telling people you’re going to court someone. You’re supposed to be delicate. Hint at it and build up little courting gifts and don’t look anyone in the eye. It’s dumb as hell and Eddie wants no part of it. Besides, so far as Eddie has seen, that method hasn’t worked on Steve anyway. Eddie may as well go about this in his own way, which includes getting insider information.

Still clearly not impressed, Robin says “You? You want to court Steve? Resident anti-conformist, jock-hating, Eddie Munson wants to court Steve Harrington. Why?” Her tone is clearly disbelieving, which, again, rude.

“Uh, I mean, have you seen him with those kids? He’s wicked hot with that whole mom thing he’s got going on.” At that, Robin gags. “And, I mean, I know he’s a jock but he’s also an Omega and he pretty much said fuck it to Hawkin’s High when he presented and refused to give up his position as captain. That was super fucking metal,” he says all earnest.

“And I like the way he smells, like a fresh cinnamon roll. And we shared an English class once and he asked me about the doodle of a Beholder I worked on instead of taking notes. And I know I’m not exactly a prime Alpha but I don’t think that really matters. At least not to me. I want to kiss him and make sweet love to him and have babies with him and -” Robin cuts him off with a hand over his mouth.

“Ok, I get it. You like him.” She says that, but she’s still looking at him like she can’t figure him out. “Alright…I don’t know if I like you Eddie but I’ll throw you a bone. Just one, got it? And if you fuck it up, I’m not helping you again.” She says, waiting for him to nod before removing her hand from his mouth.

Eddie takes a deep, overdramatic breath in like he’s just breached water. “Got it.”

Robin takes a deep breath of her own. “Steve’s been propositioned for courting 19 times since he presented and he’s only said yes to one. One-off dates not included.” She hasn’t stopped looking him straight in the eye, making sure he pays attention. “Nancy gave him a set of handwritten notes for history because she noticed he was struggling. All the other Alphas got him fancy jewelry, useless house stuff, and generic valentine's day crap.” With that, she gives him one last, long look before grabbing her trumpet and leaving, the sound of metal clanging under her feet following in her wake.

“Thanks, Buckey!” He calls out, waving his hand wildly at her retreating back. She ignores him.

Well, no matter. He’s got a courting to plan.

The thing about courting when you have $3.45 to your name after rent and gas is that you have to get creative. Which isn’t a problem, Eddie breathes creativity. If he wasn't already “The Freak” he’s sure he would be Eddie “The Creative” Munson. Really, it has a nice ring to it.

The problem comes with making something with $3.45 that is also a worthy courting gift for Steve Harrington. Which, given Robin’s tip, might not be as big a concern as he would have thought. But even if Steve would be happy with a heartfelt love letter and those peanut butter brownies Eddie knows he likes, there’s a part of him that wants to blow every other Alpha and Beta that came before him completely out of the water. Maybe especially Nancy Wheeler.

Sue him, he wants to be the best.

Which leaves him with the option of a gesture. Eddie loves a gesture, but this one is going to require some help. Luckily, Eddie knows where every gang of geeks in Hawkin’s makes their dens, even if they’re not his gang of geeks. It comes with being Head Freak. It’s his responsibility, really.

Which is how he finds himself in the Hawkins Middle AV club room being stared down by a bunch of beady-eyed thirteen year olds on the verge of presenting. Jesus, these kids are intense.

“So yeah, that’s what I’m planning,” he finishes explaining. Would it kill them to look a little impressed? He’s pretty proud of it himself. Instead of sharing looks of awe, the six of them share looks of judgement between them, obviously having a silent conversation between them like some kind of hive mind. Eddie will never admit it makes him sweat a little bit.

“You want to ask to court Steve. Steve Harrington?” the tall, skinny one asks like he can’t believe it. Eddie doesn’t know if the disgust is for him or for the Omega. Either way, ouch.

“Yes,” he replies, sweating a little more. They all share more looks, the redhead in particular is looking at him like he’s gum stuck on the bottom of her shoes.

“Why?” The curly one asks, firm and more seriously than any kid that dorky looking should have any right to speak. Seriously, he looks like a poodle in a Star Wars shirt and a trucker hat. But, Eddie knows enough about Steve to know that these are his kids, his pups, and despite how much it chafes him to have people continually asking why he wants to court Steve, like it isn’t obvious, he knows these pups are just looking out for their pack Omega.

With a deep sigh, Eddie explains for the second time in less than a week, everything he loves about Steve Harrington. At the end of his speech, the pups stare at him for a long moment before simultaneously turning their back on him to form an honest to God huddle. Seriously, the hive mind thing is looking more and more likely. Maybe he should use this for a campaign. Very Children of the Corn.

While Eddie is lost in his musing, they seem to come to some kind of conclusion, breaking up and returning to one solid, unbreakable line. It’s the other girl, hair short and at that awkward growing out length that Eddie knows all too well that steps forward. All these kids are intense, but there’s something especially severe about her, something Eddie only half recognizes.

“We will help you,” she says, quiet and solemn.

This is going to fucking fantastic, Eddie thinks, wild grin splitting across his face.

It’s embarrassingly easy to sneak a band of six middle schoolers and one elementary schooler into the school after hours. The kids met him outside the building just at exactly 4:00 PM the Friday after their meeting in the AV room just as they planned. The addition of the feisty ten year old was unexpected, but she proved herself invaluable in charming the one teacher that stopped them on their way to the radio room, spinning some tale about being so excited for higher learning that they wanted to explore the high school. Eddie thinks Erica Sinclair should run the world.

The kids are a well oiled, if slightly annoying, machine. As soon as Eddie pops the door open they’re getting to work figuring out how the PA system works and how long the range is. Dustin and Lucas insist that they move the entire unit closer to the field, and Max and Will are quick to source a cart for the whole thing. In record time they’re all piling into the coaches office, the one with a clear view of the basketball court where the team is running their Friday drills. Honestly, it feels a little like they’re highjacking Eddie’s plan, but the smiles on their face and their puppy sweet excitement softens the blow a little.

“You ready?” The curly haired one, Dustin, asks while offering him the mic.

“I was born for this, Dusty,” he says, snatching the mic out of his hand and taking his place outside the main gym doors.

Despite what he said, Eddie is nervous. He shakes his hands and bounces in place, trying to shake it off. Before he’s ready, he hears the slightly crackly jazzy intro pouring through the speakers. He counts his beats, waiting for his que. He spent hours planning this, recording the background music with the band, turning the lyrics over and over in his head, even practicing his grand entrance. He’s as ready as he can be.

God, he hopes this works.

And there’s his que, that little pause in the music just enough time for him to push open the doors to the main gym with all his strength, relishing in the dramatic banging sound.

All eyes are on him. Steve’s eyes are on him.

You're just too good to be true,

Can't take my eyes off of you,

He sings as he walks. All the activity in the gym has come to a halt, everyone too confused and curious to stop it. He’s looking right at Steve, who turns his head like he’s expecting to see someone else behind him. He’s so cute, Eddie wants to eat him alive.

At long last love has arrived,

And I thank God I'm alive,

You're just too good to be true

Eddie knows he doesn’t have a lot of time, any moment now principle Higgins and his one security lackey are going to bust through the doors to find out who stole the announcement equipment. This is the moment, the one that needs to count. Eddie saunters right up to Steve like his heart isn’t trying to beat out of his chest and kneels down like a knight to their king. He takes his hand, and Steve lets him as he sings the next line looking right up into those beautiful hazel eyes.

Can't take my eyes off of you.

He turns the hand in his own over to expose the Omega’s wrist just as the music pauses and presses a soft, lingering kiss to the gland there. A courting kiss.

Almost like he planned it, the doors burst open a second time revealing the fuming face of Principle Higgins and his goon. He turns a manic grin Steve’s way just as the music picks back up, cutting straight to the chorus. He presses one last kiss to Steve’s wrist and takes in the way his pretty, pink lips are parted in disbelief, eyes wide and then he’s running.

I love you baby,

And if it's quite alright,

I need you baby,

To warm the lonely nights

Let it never be said that Eddie Munson, for all the ways he fails to be the ideal Alpha, doesn’t have a hell of a lot of stamina. He’s been a proud runner all his life, and he’s using it to his advantage today to put on a show. He’s singing and he’s running as Higgins and Officer Jerry chase his tail like they have any hope of catching him when he doesn’t want to be caught, when he can see the most beautiful boy in the world laughing at him in disbelief as he ducks and dodges around the court.

But even Eddie has his limits and, like he said, he planned this to a T. He can feel himself running out of breath but he refuses to call it before the climax. He’s stomping his way up the bleachers, making a show of going between the rows dancing like he’s in an old hollywood musical. Higgin’s is closing in, but there’s now way he’s getting caught. Not today. He puts in a burst of speed, leaving them in the dust and putting himself right at the top of the wooden stands, singing directly to Steve who is absolutely glowing on the court.

And let me love you,

Baby let me love you…

The music gives one last swell, the Corroded Coffin of two days ago pouring their heart out for the Eddie of today. The music comes to an abrupt halt, the gym very quickly filling with laughter and applause. The kids are screaming their heads off in the office, loud enough to draw Steve’s attention to where they can be seen through the large window. The joy and disbelief on Steve’s face makes all of this worth it, no matter what happens next.

Eddie wishes he could relish in it longer, but the goon squad is gaining ground fast and he has one last message to give before he hauls ass into the next phase of his plan. He starts inching his way toward the exit, not taking his eyes off Steve as he goes. He needs him to hear this.

“Steve Harrington, it would be the honor of my life to court you with the intention of mating. Meet me at the lake at seven if you’ll hear me out.” And with that, he’s gone. He wishes he could stay to see his reaction, but he’s out of time.

He pushes through the emergency exit to the sound of hollering and clapping, all he can do now is commence with phase two.

Phase two mainly consists of picking everything up from the trailer, changing into his nice clothes, and heading toward Lover’s Lake to set everything up.

Eddie thinks this is the most nerve wracking part of the whole plan. In many ways, the whole big performance was the easy part. Eddie loves to perform, eats up the attention like a cat laps up milk. This, the full bearing of his heart to the Omega he wants to spend his life with, is far scarier than anything else. Here in the back of his van, the paper hearts and pillar candles, hand-picked daisies and hand-made peanut butter brownies, leave him completely exposed.

He wonders if Steve will show up.

He wishes he didn’t set up so god damn early. The waiting is excruciating.

The Alpha paces around, adjusts the blankets on the bottom of the van and then decides they were better before, and checks his watch every half minute like it will make time move faster. He sits and watches the hands turn from 6:59 to 7:00. Maybe Steve won’t come. Maybe this was all for nothing and he’ll have to go back to school on Monday and pretend like he isn’t heartbroken.

His watch continues to tick. 7:03, 7:07, 7:10. He’s getting ready to pick it all back up when he hears the muffled sound of tires on soft dirt. Suddenly, his heart is in his throat as he watches the distinct headlights of his favorite Beamer turn into the clearing.

Eddie scrambles to his feet, he has a plan to carry out.

He watches, heart in his throat as Steve parks. Watches as the door opens and Steve emerges, a sweet, sheepish smile on his face.

“Sorry I’m late.” Steve looks like a dream. He clearly went home and had a shower and a change of clothes. He’s wearing light wash jeans that hug his thighs and a soft looking, deep red sweater, the collar of a white dress shirt peeking out from underneath. He’s dressed up for Eddie.

There’s a long pause where Eddie forgets how to speak and Steve just stands there, clearly waiting for Eddie to make a move. Eddie comes back to himself all at one, shaking his head hard like a dog, making Steve let out a startled laugh. “What the hell?” He asks, not mean, but bemused.

“My deepest apologies my liege, I was simply stunned by your beauty,” he says with a half bow, extending his arm for Steve to take. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to Cafe Munson, the finest pop up restaurant this side of Indiana.” It’s goofy and a little ridiculous but Steve takes the offered arm with a little smile, sending a pleasant jolt through his body.

Eddie leads Steve toward the open back of the van, watching him intently as he takes it in. He gets to see as the Omega’s eyes go wide, mouth parting in a little gasp. When he turns to look at Eddie, he’s already looking back. “You did this for me?” He asks, wonder coloring his voice. All of a sudden Eddie feels a little shy, a little sheepish.

“I know it’s not much, I’m not exactly liquid at the moment, but I wanted to do something nice for you,” he says, unoccupied arm reaching up to tug a piece of hair over his mouth. Steve looks at him for a long moment before turning back to the van. There are blankets everywhere, pretty much every one from the house plus a couple he nicked from Gareth’s house after practice. The emergency pillar lights from the pantry give the space a soft glow, paper hearts hang from string from the metal roof, and a repurposed laundry basket full of tupperwares and miller lites sits in the center.

“It’s perfect” Steve says, and Eddie can’t help but believe him. Not when his scent is blooming, cinnamon roll sweet, right under Eddie’s nose.

Eddie leads him to the van, gives him his hand to help him into the back. He takes a moment to take it all in, Steve Harrington settling into a date with Eddie Munson. It’s his biggest dream come true.

He climbs in after the other boy and starts pulling out tupperwares. Steve has settled in to lean on the wall of pillows Eddie constructed for just this reason, pulling a blanket over the both of them when Eddie settles in next to him. Steve laughs with every overly dramatic introduction he makes for the food, and Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever been this warm. Neither of them brings up why they’re here, the underlying meaning behind it all. They dance around it, laughing about the kids, Steve’s sports and Eddie’s games, the look on Principle Higgin’s face when he burst into the gym earlier that day. The whole place smells like cinnamon and smoke, Eddie doesn’t think there’s a better smell in the whole world.

They don’t say a thing about courting or mating or scents until they polish off their cold pasta, courtesy of Wayne, and Eddie pulls out the last tupperware from the bottom of the laundry basket. “And for dessert, may I have a drumroll please….” Steve rolls his eyes but smiles as he complies, drumming a little beat with fingers on the side of the van. Eddie pulls out the container with a flourish, “The finest peanut butter brownies $3.15 worth of ingredients from Melvald’s can get you.” He expects laughter, maybe some light teasing as Steve has been shown to enjoy throughout the night, but all he gets is silence.

He worries, for a moment, that he got it wrong. Maybe Steve doesn’t like peanut butter brownies. Jesus H Christ, maybe he’s allergic to peanuts and Eddie has just massively fucked this up. He’s getting ready to spiral and try to fix it when Steve speaks, voice soft in a way Eddie can’t place.

“Those are my favorites,” he says. When Eddie is brave enough to look at his face again, he’s met with wet, adoring eyes. Eddie doesn't know if anyone has ever looked at him like that before. Like he was something magical. Something special just for them.

Eddie clears his throat when Steve doesn’t say anything else. Just keeps staring at him like he’s waiting for something big. “Yeah, yeah I know,” he says, bracing himself for what comes next. “I uh, I saw you buy some at the club fair last year. You bought three of them and then came back for one more before they closed the booth.” It shouldn’t be such a big admission, but it feels like he’s just handed Steve his heart on a silver platter.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, turning toward him fully.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, sitting up so they’re eye to eye.

“What you said, on the basketball court, will you ask me again?” He’s looking at him with so much hope in his eyes, Eddie almost feels like he could choke on it. Instead, he focuses in on the perfect scent of the man next to him, breathes steadily in and out.

“It would be the honor of my life to court you with the intention of mating, Steve Harrington.” As he says it, he reaches into his pocket for his last offering, his hail mary pass, his death saving throw. It’s a silly thing, cost his last 30 cents at the stationary store, but he was listening to Robin on those bleachers that day. Knows that the gesture and the picnic are all well and good, but what Steve has been missing with all those other Alphas is someone who notices the small details and holds them close. Someone who cares about his C+ in History, someone who knows his favorite brownies are swirled with peanut butter.

Someone who notices that he lost his eraser last week and has been meaning to pick up a new one.

Eddie holds out his heart one last time, it’s shaped like a 30 cent eraser. White and covered with a paper band. The best one on the market.

Steve stares at the little eraser like it contains the answers to the universe, and then he’s plucking it, oh so gently, out of his hands and cradling it in his own. Eddie waits, the ball is completely in Steve’s court now, Eddie has played all his cards.

Suddenly, Steve scent starts to bloom, even more than it did when he first saw the van. The smell of sugar, cinnamon, and yeast so strong it makes Eddie feel light headed. Eddie gets a glimpse of the most beautiful smile in the world just before Steve is throwing his arm around his neck, nudging his way into his lap to notch his head right at Eddie’s scent gland. Eddie’s arms instinctually wrap around his back, keeping him close.

“Yes,” Steve says, the sound of it muffled by the soft skin of Eddie’s neck. Eddie squeezes him tight, knows he needs to ask, just to make sure but worried he’s hallucinating. Scared to believe he’s getting everything he’s ever wanted.

“Yes?” He asks, lips trembling where they’ve found their own place at Steve’s neck, wanting to be as close as possible, just in case.

“Yes.” And Steve is pulling back, which Eddie hates, and cupping his face in is hands. “It would be the honor of my life to accept your courting offer, Eddie Munson,” he says, sure and steady and full to the brim of hope.

“Holy shit.” Eddie can’t believe this is happening. Despite all the planing and the performing and the putting his heart on the line he never actually let himself think that this would happen. Never let himself think about how it would end.

Without much though Eddie barrels forward to bury his head back into the Omega’s neck, his Omega’s neck, peppering him with fervent little kisses until Steve is giggling so hard he tips them over into the pile of pillows behind him. Eddie is full to the brim with joy, happier than he’s ever been and all of a sudden he needs to move. Needs to let the whole world know what he’s got in the palm of his hands.

He jolts up with one last kiss to Steve’s cheek, managing a quick “be right back!” before he launching himself out of the van. He hears Steve calling out in confusion, but it quickly turns into more joyous laughter as Eddie steps out of the van and starts jumping in place, punching the air and whooping into the night sky.

“Fuck you Hawkins! I’m courting Steve Harrington! I’m on top of the God Damn world!” He gets in one last double bird in the general direction of Main Street before Steve is calling him back in.

“Ok, you’ve had your moment. Now get your ass back in here and kiss me for real, you dumb Alpha,” he says, laughter still caught in his throat. And really? Who is Eddie do deny a request like that?

So excited for MMM, guys! I won't be doing every day, but I will be doing at lest a couple of full one shots and some of my normal ramblings. (Also, this is the longest thing I've ever written that wasn't an academic paper and I am low key very proud of myself)

#March Mating Madness #steddie #omegaverse #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #dreamer speaks #fanfiction #robin buckley

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planet-hwa · 1 day ago

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୨୧ bad boy facade chapter 3 – 산

chapter 3 jealousy is a disease ୨୧ previous chapter ◦ series masterlist

pairing badboy!san x reader genre high school au, mostly angst... my bad word count 4.1k -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ warnings jealousy!!, quick mentions of tragic historical events, swearing, physical fights + mentions of blood and bruises, verbal arguments, accused cheating, manipulation, gaslighting, mentions of sex but no actual smut

❝ you know you're better than this, can't make a start, got your heart in a headlock ❞ 🎧 now playing headlock ; imogen heap

↳ navigation ◦ masterlist ◦ requests ↳ a playlist for the series

Avoiding San completely was going to be impossible, you knew that, but even the slightest ounce of rejection towards him proved to be beyond the limits of impossibility.

Everywhere you looked, there he was. And the funny thing is; he didn’t even attend class regularly, always spontaneously showing up. But as the weeks passed, you noticed his attendance change, his presence in almost every class and always right next to you. And even though you made it your mission to try and stay away from him, he made it his mission to have your attention at all times. Whether it was his daily pencil borrowing, or his constant need for help in class, he always demanded your attention.

Some of the other girls in class were quick to notice too, all sending disgusted and jealous glares in your direction, all wanting San to borrow pencils from them or ask them for help. But his eyes remained on you, only ever garnering their curiosities when he needed a release, taking one home for the night and acting as if nothing happened the next day. And even when this was a running theme with him, the hit it and quit it, they didn’t care — all of them lacked enough self respect that even after he would humiliate them in front of his friends, acting as if he didn’t know their names (never caring to remember them), they’d still run back to him at the sound of a 2am notification.

Today was no different, death glares forged into the back of your head as San took his seat next to you, the familiar question falling from his soft lips as soon as he sat down. “A pencil please, princess?”

You had given up on correcting him, the nickname never faltering in the two months he’d been using it. Handing him a pencil and sending him a small smile, just because you are meant to avoid him doesn’t mean you need to be completely rude to him for no reason. He sent you a smile in return, not a smirk, a genuine smile with dimples denting his cheeks. A strange feeling tingled in your belly, a feeling you hadn’t felt in a long time, but you were quick to push them away.

AVOID CHOI SAN FAILED: ||

Luckily, the sound of Mrs Waltz’ voice beginning the lecture pulled you away from San’s gaze, moving yours to the front of the class. “Everyone, the history project for this semester is to be done in pairs. Now I will let you choose your partners but please don’t make me regret it, choose someone you’ll work well with. Once you’ve decided on partners and a historical event, please write them up on the board.”

The classroom began to shuffle around, everyone now sitting next to their friends instead of their designated seat partners, all relieved that they got the choice, the room quickly filled with chatter. San was quick to move to the back of the class, following a whistle that came from Wooyoung. You turned to see Yunho ushering you over with two fingers, having fully expected him to stay with his designated partner but she seemed to move over to another friend. Grabbing your books, you wandered over to Yunho’s table, momentarily forgetting that Wooyoung sat right behind him. Not only Wooyoung, but now San as well.

AVOID CHOI SAN FAILED: |||

“Damn princess, you really can’t keep away from me, can you?” The two boys snickered behind you as you sat down, the immediate tension growing underneath your boyfriend’s shoulders.

You lightly held his hand with assurance, whispering to ignore the boys behind you and steadily moving to brainstorming project ideas. The two of you settled on the Attack on Pearl Harbour, both of you having an interest in the historical event, walking up to the front of the class — San shortly followed behind you.

Writing in your neatest writing, even though one of the hardest things to do is to write neatly on a whiteboard, you wrote yours and Yunho’s name along with your chosen subject. The student next to you passed the marker back to San, now stood closely next to you, your shoulders grazing lightly and that strange feeling in your stomach fluttering once more.

AVOID CHOI SAN FAILED: ||||

“The Assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand?” You questioned as he wrote it up on the board. “That’s quite intense, isn’t it?”

“Wooyoung chose it, he’s kind of a history buff.” He clarified, struggling to spell the last name. It was quite adorable to see how focused he was on it, eyebrows scrunched and tongue slightly poking out as he whispered the letters to himself.

“F. E. R. D. I. N. A. N. D.” You spelled out the last name for him and watched as he wrote it down, returning you with that silly dimpled smile for a second time today.

AVOID CHOI SAN FAILED: |||||

The more time you spent at the front of the class with San, the more time Yunho spent carving daggers into the back of his head. His eyes were dark with anger, still manageable but getting ready to snap any second. Luckily for you and anyone else, you swiftly returned to your seat next to him, pulling out your laptop and beginning your research. The majority of the class was calm, all partners focusing on their conversations and their projects. Thankfully this project wasn't an oral presentation, the thought of standing in front of the class was still just as daunting and anxiety-inducing as the first time since the start of high school. Tripping on your way up there, fumbling all your words even after practicing them; the thought of it terrified you.

Building up your research and filling out a shared document, the beginning of questions being answered with information and photos of the tragic event. Though your table was quiet and focused, the two boys sitting behind you were quite the opposite. Both of them either bickering about the work or talking about something completely irrelevant to the class, their growing boredom visible at a glance. That wasn’t until San decided he wanted some fun, his ‘curiosity’ on your relationship seeming to develop all of a sudden.

“So when did you two start dating?” He leant over the desk to garner your attention. Yunho turned around confused at the sudden questioning.

“Last year, not that it’s any of your business.” He hissed, but San only chuckled.

“Wow princess, you’ve dealt with him for an entire year?” San cocked an eyebrow as you looked at him, the muddled expression on your face tickling a heat built within his stomach. “Props to you, I’d get bored of him after a month.”

“Do you mind? We’re trying to work.” Yunho growled, sending more daggers through his stare. “And don’t call her that.”

San’s lips curled into a familiar shit-eating smirk, the effect he was having on Yunho evident in his body language. His body was tense, ears painted a crimson colour, steam invisibly emitting off his aura. San savoured every minute of it.

“I mean seriously, you must have a massive dick for her to stay with you this long.”

The comment made you grow flustered, your cheeks heating under your touch as you hid your face slightly from San’s view. The truth is, you and Yunho hadn’t been super physical in your relationship, only ever making out with a little bit of clothed friction. You wanted to do more but were too nervous to make the first move, and he never did so you just accepted it.

Yunho’s fists grew tight, his knuckles tuning a shade of white as he held back the urge to throw San across the room, not that he could. You held his hand lightly and told him to ignore the comments, turning back to your work and blocking out the dark-haired boy behind you for the rest of the class. And it managed to work, somehow, he had left you alone. It might’ve been because the teacher called him out on distractive talking in class but it didn’t matter why to you, as long as Yunho was calming down, that was your only concern.

The class continued smoothly until it finished. The bell chimed loudly throughout the school as students barged their way into the halls, all preparing for the race to lunch. The tension within Yunho had grown immensely as the class continued, the earlier comments made by San still racking around in his brain. Though you were sitting next to him the entire class working on the project, his eyes couldn’t keep away from the back of San’s head, daggers shooting their way into his skull.

And the worst part? San knew.

San knew the anger he was riling up in Yunho, enjoying the way every comment he made provoked him to the point of his face turning red with hatred. Every flirtatious remark, every wink, every sly smile he sent your way boiled under Yunho’s skin. The way a dark red would creep up Yunho’s neck anytime San spoke, even not directly to you, made him want to burst into laughter. It was his own comedy show.

You could feel the heat of Yunho’s anger radiating off of him as he leapt out of his seat and burst into the hallway, quick to follow him and even quicker to lose him is the business of the school. That was until you saw the crowd surrounding a group of lockers. Immediately finding the bulked, leather-jacket wearing figure, Yunho gripped his collar tightly and slammed him against the locker, a loud bang shattering through the air as students lined up to watch — their phones snug in their hands and pressing the red recording button.

Curses and shouting voices filled the room but you couldn’t see anything, attempting to squeeze your way through the thick crowd. With a few elbows to the ribs, you finally got to the front and saw your boyfriend standing tall above San, yet there was no fear in his eyes. You wanted to stop them but knew that wouldn’t work; you could never stop Yunho from getting angry without gaining a small bruise in the process. Yet you didn’t want to see anyone else get hurt either. Before you could move to stop it, a strong hand gripped your shoulder tight, pulling you back and holding you in place.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The male voice mumbled against your ear.

The unfamiliar voice caused you to spin your head around quick, being matched with the grimacing glare of an oreo-haired boy; he who shall not be named. Squinting your eyes at his very insincere concern for your safety, you shrugged away from his grasp and turned your attention back to the physicality in front of you. Wooyoung only rolled his eyes at you, crossing his arms watching as Yunho slammed San against the locker once more.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Yunho spat, holding San with all his strength. “Flirting with her right in front of me, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Aww, is the valedictorian afraid that the southside scum is gonna steal his precious girlfriend?” San taunted, smirking as the red tint grew up Yunho’s neck. ‘Oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ filtered out of the students' mouths, this being the most interesting thing to happen in the school ever.

“San stop, please-”

“I mean, how precious is she really?” He cut you off, watching your expression change from concern to confusion along with Yunho’s. “Considering you seem to spend more time with your girl-friend than your girlfriend.”

Your face dropped as Yunho looked at you, the reality of the comment hitting you like a truck. Someone else had noticed it and brought it up, the unusually close relationship Yunho held towards Hiraya. Steam practically blew out of Yunho’s ears before he threw a punch towards San’s direction, but the bulkier boy was fast and dodged the flying fist, Yunho’s hand dinting the innocent locker door. It was then you realised he was no longer angry at San for flirting with you, but for bringing her up. He started to throw punches the moment she was brought up, not you.

Before you knew it, the two were roughing each other up, striking any part they could reach — most landing on Yunho with San’s advanced aiming, landing every punch he threw. You watched in shock, unable to move as other students pushed around to get the best view. Wooyoung still stood next to you, enjoying the action just as much as the rest of the students, fully knowing what the result would be. You watched as San’s fist landed on Yunho’s jawline, cheeks, eye, and a few hits to the stomach making him curl over slightly. The worst punch smacking against Yunho’s bottom lip and splitting it straight through, blood began dripping down his chin. Though Yunho was taller, San was obviously stronger and much more experienced in the aggression of a physical fight. It was only minutes before teacher’s split the two boys up, holding them back desperately as they tried for more.

“Enough!” Principal Kim shouted, ushering students away and making his way to the centre. “Everyone out, now!”

Students hurried away in whispers and giggles before the halls were empty — you, Yunho, San and the teacher’s remained, Yeosang and Seonghwa hiding in a classroom door but peeking out slightly. With hands on his hips, Principal Kim began lecturing the two boys on their behaviour, the usual ‘this is a highly respected school’ and ‘reputations can get ruined if you continue’ speeches occurring as the boys stood still glaring at each other.

“Did you start this?” Quickly turning his head towards San, who held an unreadable look.

“What, because I’m from the southside it automatically makes me the issue?” San scoffed, his head tilting to the side as he narrowed his eyes at the older man.The principal sighed before excusing Yunho to leave, waving him away and turning his attention back to the sharp eyes that glared at him. “Choi San, in my office. Now.”

Yunho stomped off and out the doors, rage firing his every step. Standing there in disbelief and hesitation, thoughts were overflowing your brain as you processed everything. The fact that Yunho was so angry he started a fight, which he had never done before. The fact that the one comment that actually caused injury to his ego was about another girl and not you. The fact that you would now face the blame from him.

San made his way to the office passing you, pausing slightly and moving his gaze over you. There was no shit-eating smirk on his face, no flirtatious wink, only a seriousness you hadn’t seen him hold before. “You’re welcome for being the first person to bring that up.”

Shock masked your face, quickly replaced with a disgusted expression, yet eyes were watery. “Fuck you.”

“Hmm… maybe next time, princess.” There it was, that familiar sly as a fox smirk curling onto his lips.

You rolled your eyes exaggeratedly before running off to find Yunho. Yeosang and Seonghwa exited their small hiding spot and were quick to follow you, both sending San glaring looks as they passed each other.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Scanning the empty front courtyard, you finally landed on the tall figure storming down the path, his tense back facing you as you chased after him. With every call of his name, he refused to look behind him, set on a mission to get away from everything. It wasn’t before you finally caught up with him, running ahead of him and stopping directly in front. He stopped and turned, that same displeased expression masking his face from the day you met San.

“Yunho, baby please.” You practically begged for him to listen, almost falling to your knees. “You know I have no interest in him-”

“Well, that’s not what it looks like.” His tone was serious, emotionless. “Especially when you avidly let him flirt with you for the entire class.”

“I can’t stop him from doing that though.” You mumbled, looking down at your fiddling hands before returning to his eye contact. “You know I ignore it, right?”

A silence grew between the two of you, nobody uttering a word but thinking so many thoughts. Yunho thought about it intensely; he knew you ignored it so why was he letting it get to him so much? Why was he so afraid to lose you to someone so far below him, knowing you had no interest and only had eyes for himself. Truthfully, he held himself in extremely high regard, and if he were to lose you to someone like San — a southside scumbag who’s in a biker gang that runs illegal drug businesses — it would be the biggest insult on his self worth.

But all you could think about was what San said, pointing out the fact that Yunho and Hiraya seemed physically closer to each other than the two of you.

“I mean, how precious is she really? Considering you seem to spend more time with your girl-friend than your girlfriend.”

You had brought it up a couple of times throughout your relationship but your theories were constantly shut down. And Yunho knew you were insecure about it, yet he would still use her to make you jealous and expect later an apology from you for ‘making him do it’. And the small ruffle the boys had in the hallway proved enough to you; that Yunho would defend her faster than he would ever defend you, but you wanted to hear it from his mouth.

To break the silence, you asked one simple question. “W-why did you only punch San after he mentions Hiraya..?”

Maybe it was a not-so-simple question.

“Are you kidding me, Y/N? You’re still stuck on this bullshit?” He huffed, eyes rolling almost out of his head at the absurd accusation.

“I didn’t punch him because he mentioned her, I punched him because he’s a dickhead! God, why are you so obsessed with the idea of me and Raya? I mean, you constantly bring it up even after I deny it! But of course, it’s my fault like always, right? It’s never your fault, right?” Yunho was too busy yelling at you to notice the way your body was shrinking under his gaze, your eyes growing glassier with every raise of his voice, the way your fingers picked at the skin of each other.

“I can’t deal with you right now, Y/N.” And with that, he walked right past you and ignored your presence for the rest of the day, for the rest of the week.

You finally let the tears escape, quickly streaming down your cheeks as Yeosang and Seonghwa ran up towards you, both watching the argument from afar but not wanting to intervene. Yeosang wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and stroking your hair to lull you. Seonghwa’s concerned expression showed through his furrowed eyebrows, watching you and empathising your sadness with small rubs on your back as Yeosang continued to hold you tight. The two boys shared a look between one another, silently agreeing to distract you with lunch.

Yeosang pulled you away from his chest, watching the hurt carry in your eyes before wiping your tears with his sleeve. Before you knew it, they were leading you back through the empty school and out to the middle courtyard, taking your familiar place under the promise tree. They waited patiently in silence for you to open up, telling them about the accusations he made at you, both boys quick to begin to defend you.

“Does Yunho seriously know anything at all? I thought he was meant to be the smartest kid in school.” Yeosang scoffed, hearing about how he thinks you’re interested in San.

“Yeah, and why would he not believe you? It’s very obvious you don’t see San as even a friend.” Seonghwa added on, crossing his arms in disbelief.

The more they continued to defend your honour, the more you began to let out small giggles at their low-key dramatic antics. But they didn’t care if you were laughing at them, they were just happy to distract you from the situation.

Another thing they had distracted you from unintentionally was San’s presence at the table behind you, the table his group have claimed since the first lunch. You weren’t aware that San was intently watching you, noticing your tear stained cheeks and your reddened eyes and nose, and having a growing feeling of guilt build in his body. If he hadn’t engaged in the fight with Yunho, would he have upset you at this time? He didn’t regret it though, only regretted you being in the middle of it. Yunho deserved every punch he got, especially the split in his lip. His glances continued to be unnoticed by you throughout the entirety of lunch.

“Anyways~” Yeosang sang, preparing to change the subject ever so obviously. “There’s a party this Friday, at Hyunjin’s house…”

“Noo, Yeo…” You cried, the introvert in you praying for a secluded Friday night to yourself and your favourite tv show that you watched at least seventeen times. And it’s Wednesday, you need a minimum of a week to prepare for such a large social event. “Please no…”

“We’re going!” He cheered, blocking out the guttural complaints that fell from your lips, Seonghwa just giggling to the side of you.

Parties were never really your thing, only ever attending if Yeosang was going. But after what happened earlier, you could already tell you weren’t mentally prepared for a party in two days. But also, now that Seonghwa was a part of your friendship, you might actually have someone who would stay on the couch with you, admiring as drunk people threw themselves at each other. Yeosang always said he would stay with you, but thirty minutes into every party he would follow a random girl or guy into an upstairs bedroom, neither of them being seen for the rest of the night.

“Who knows Y/N, it could be fun?” Seonghwa smiled softly.

“That’s the spirit, Hwa!” Yeosang clapped, a few other tables looking judgingly in your direction. “I knew there was a good reason we became friends.”

Before you could properly deny, the ending lunch bell rang loudly through the speakers, students quickly heading inside for their final classes of the day. You told Yeosang you would think about it, which automatically was a yes in his ears, running off giggling before you could stop him. Seonghwa reassured you that everything would be okay before following the redhead to their homeroom, you making your way to your own.

Until the end of the day came, you distracted yourself with your work and the idea of the party, aiming to keep any attention of yours away from Yunho, and further away from San. Surprisingly throughout the last class, he hadn’t talked to you much, only asking his usual ‘can I borrow a pencil?’ before turning to his work. It was strange, he didn’t seem scared of Yunho when they were arguing but now he’s cautious to talk to you — surely he hasn’t become afraid of the taller boy. You pushed away those thoughts, not wanting to give attention to anything dealing with the two boys at the moment.

It wasn’t until you were curled up in your bed later that night that you began to ponder on everything that happened. How Yunho and San fought in the hallways, only one of them truly defending you, and it wasn’t your own boyfriend. How Yunho once again accused you of aiming to cheat on him, accepting flirtatious remarks the biker sent your way. How he once again denied there was anything happening between him and his girl-friend. How he refused to talk to you for the rest of the day, no goodbye, no calls or texts — nothing.

It was too much to think about, anytime an idea came into your head and pulled you away from some much needed sleep was stressing you out more. Maybe a party full of drinking and bad decisions was a good idea, but that could be your slight sleep deprivation talking.

It wasn’t.

Because on Friday evening, Yeosang’s car was driving up the long gated driveway to Hyunjin’s house, Seonghwa sitting in the back and you anxiously but also excitedly sitting in the front.

୨୧ next chapter

author’s note this chapter is not as thoroughly proof read as the other two so please let me know if there is any spelling mistakes (not including ones that are american spelling mistakes, i purposely write with british/australian spelling)

୨୧ taglist @morethingsfandom @solaris-amethyst @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @baby-stay92 @autieofthevalley @liveloveseonghwa @dejatiny @mortal-advocate @dreamsoffanfics @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @dalsuwaha @nevieatiny @woateez @choizlover @foreveryxunggg @woosmaid @yeosannie4 @auroras-colors @mintchocosan @jjongbearsies @frzzenfrxg @sanniebabes @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @eyesonlyformingi @sannies-tiddies @honeyjongie @rainteez02 @robertsbbygirl @mingisgf999 @atzz8 @moonlight-hwa @chrryjoong @sanhwalvr @cloudysannie @atxxzist @choisansplushie @starz-choisanii @slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @jerseygirlzzzxx @mzngi @sparda1234 @babigriin @marvolos @snapcracklen @posseup @justineasian

#written by planet hwa ༉‧₊˚✧#bad boy facade series 🕸♥✟🕷#ateez #choi san #ateez series #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut #san series #san x reader #san imagines #san fanfic #san fluff #san angst #san smut

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thequeenofcurses · 3 days ago

Text

Death of a Bachelor

Chapter 3: The First Night of Forever

Okinawa honeymoon with your new husband: special grade sorcerer Ryomen Sukuna (smut!) wk: 3.1k

<- Part 2

You and Sukuna arrive in Okinawa in the early evening, the sky painted in shades of warm amber and deep violet. The hotel you check into is nothing short of luxurious—grand chandeliers, marble floors, and a breathtaking ocean view from the lobby alone. It feels surreal, as if you’ve stepped into a dream.

As you enter your suite, you're instantly captivated by its opulence—the floor-to-ceiling windows revealing a vast expanse of turquoise waves, a private balcony overlooking the beach, and a bed so lavish it looks fit for royalty. Excitement bubbles within you at the thought of exploring the island, of making memories in this paradise.

Before you can voice your thoughts, Sukuna pulls you into his arms. His embrace is warm, grounding you amidst the overwhelming beauty surrounding you.

“My wife,” he starts, his voice filled with awe. “My dazzling wife.” He cups your face, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles against your cheekbone. His crimson eyes hold a softness reserved only for you.

Your heart swells at his words, at the sheer love in his gaze. “I love you.” you whisper, leaning into his touch.

“And I love you,” he answers without hesitation. Then, as if unable to hold back any longer, he claims your lips in a deep, searing kiss. His tongue moves against yours with practiced ease, exploring, savoring, leaving no inch untouched. You sigh into him, your fingers threading through his hair as your body instinctively molds against his.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes burn with something deeper than desire. “We can explore later,” he murmurs huskily, his fingers skimming the sides of your body, igniting sparks along your skin. “Right now, I want to worship every inch of my wife.”

Your breath catches at his words, a thrilling excitement coursing through you at the promise of what’s to come. “Yes,” you breathe out, a hint of anticipation in your voice. His large hands trail down the sides of your body, sending shivers up your spine.

“Please, Sukuna… show me how much you love me,” you say, your voice a soft, pleading whisper.

“Oh, I will,” he promises, his eyes darkening with lust. “I'll show you just how much you mean to me.”

Your heart pounds in anticipation, your body already responding to his words. As his clothes fall to the floor, you lick your lips, drinking in the sight of his muscular form. His tattoos only enhance his masculinity, the intricate designs adding to his powerful presence.

“Like what you see?” he asks, a cocky smirk playing on his lips, knowing exactly how he affects you.

“You're so handsome,” you murmur, slowly reaching out to touch him. Your hand runs down his sculpted chest, marveling at how his muscles flex under your touch. Every ridge of muscle tenses under your touch, and the power he exudes is undeniable.

His eyes darken at your praise. “And you,” he says, his gaze roaming over you with unfiltered adoration, “are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You pull him into a heated kiss, unable to resist him any longer. His lips capture yours, his tongue dancing with yours in a sensual, erotic dance. As the kiss deepens, you moan softly, the sound sending a rush of blood straight to his cock.

Your hand reaches between his legs, gently stroking his rapidly hardening length. He groans into the kiss, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily, seeking more friction. You break the kiss, grinning mischievously as you drop to your knees.

His eyes close as you rapidly pull his pants off and take him into your mouth, sucking lightly on the tip of his cock. He hisses, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guides you further down his length. You relax your throat, taking him in as deeply as possible.

He groans, his head falling back as pleasure floods his body. You begin to move, bobbing your head up and down his shaft, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip. His grip tightens in your hair, pulling on it slightly as he struggles to maintain control.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he pants, his voice low and husky. Your mouth feels amazing around him, and he can't help but wonder how long he'll last. He wants to savor this moment, to savor the way you look with his cock buried in your throat.

“Look at me,” he commands, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes are burning with desire, his expression filled with raw, primal need. You continue to suck his cock, gazing up at him, your eyes locked on his.

“Good girl,” he purrs, his voice thick with arousal. “Curses. You look so beautiful like this.” He continues to guide your head, his movements becoming more erratic.

You speed up, your tongue working its magic on him. You can feel him tense, his balls drawing tight as his orgasm builds. He grunts, his hips jerking forward, and you know he's close. “F-fuck baby, I'm coming,” he groans and then he explodes in your mouth, his hot seed spilling down your throat. He tastes like sweet berries. You swallow eagerly, loving the taste of him.

He pants heavily, his grip on your hair loosening as he comes down from his high. You pull away, grinning up at him. He gives you his infamous grin, showing both his canines.

"Damn, that was good," he remarks, pulling you into his arms. "Now, it's my turn." He leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. He tastes himself on your lips, and it only arouses him further.

You melt into his touch, your body responding eagerly to him. As the kiss breaks, he grins down at you, his eyes filled with desire. "Time for me to return the favor," he murmurs, scooping you up and tossing you onto the bed.

He crawls on top of you, his large frame caging you in. “You're mine, wife,” he growls, his voice filled with possessiveness. “Mine to love. Mine to protect. Mine to fuck.”

"Yours," you breathe, a wave of heat washing over you at his words.

"Damn right," he agrees, his hand trailing down your body. He cups your breast, squeezing it lightly before rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

You gasp, arching into his touch, needing more. "S-sukuna...please," you beg, your body aching for him.

He chuckles, his hand continuing its exploration. “Patience, princess. I want to enjoy you first.” His fingers trail down your stomach, coming to rest between your legs.

Of course you're already wet for him, your body desperate for his touch. He begins to stroke your clit, his touch featherlight. You moan, your hips bucking, trying to increase the pressure.

“So impatient,” he chides, his fingers teasing you.

You cry out in frustration, your body on fire. You need him inside you.

“Please, Sukuna...fuck me,” you beg, your voice a desperate plea.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he replies, a smirk playing on his lips. His fingers push into you, curling upwards and finding that sweet spot inside you.

“Oh gods, Sukuna,” you cry out, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing your clit. You can feel the pressure building, your orgasm threatening to overwhelm you.

“Come for me, baby,” he demands ardently, his eyes dark with lust. “Come all over my hand.” His words send you over the edge, your walls clamping down on his fingers as waves of bliss wash over you.

You abruptly shout out his name, your body shuddering as you ride out the aftershocks. He withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, his eyes locked on yours. “Delicious,” he murmurs, before lowering his head between your legs.

His tongue darts out, flicking across your sensitive nub. You moan, your hips jerking upward, craving more. He begins to suck on your clit, his tongue swirling around the swollen bundle of nerves.

“K-kuna," you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. The sensation is almost too much to bear, and you're not sure how much more you can take. He hasn’t even been inside you yet.

His eyes flick up to yours, his gaze filled with raw, primal desire.

“You like that, y/n?” he mutters, his breath hot against your core. “You like it when I eat your pussy?”

"Gods yes," you moan, your body writhing in ecstasy.

He continues his assault, his tongue moving expertly between your legs. You feel the pressure building again, the tension coiling deep within you.

"S-sukuna," you breathe out, your nails now digging into his cotton candy pink hair. You pull him further down into you. His mouth truly feels divine.

"That's it, princess. Come for me again" he murmurs, his tongue never ceasing its movements.

Your back arches off the bed as another orgasm rips through you, the intensity leaving you breathless. Sukuna raises his head, a smug smirk on his face.

"Such a good girl," he praises, his hand stroking your inner thigh. "But we're not done yet. I'm going to make love to you until you can't remember your own name."

He slides up the bed, his cock hovering at your entrance. He slides the tip up and down your soaked slit. “Ready for me, baby?” You nod, unable to speak, the sensation of him teasing your opening overwhelming your senses. You’ve only just begun to catch your breath before he thrusts into you, filling you completely.

You moan, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you. “You're so fucking tight,” he growls, his hips rocking back and forth. “So damn perfect.”

“Sukuna,” you whimper, your body tensing around his cock.

“Yes, baby?” he pants, his eyes blazing with desire.

“Fuck me,” you breathe out, needing him to move.

He doesn't need to be told twice. He begins to wantonly thrust into you, his movements slow and deep. “You're mine,” he declares again, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “No one else can have you.”

“I'm yours,” you agree, the feeling of his cock buried inside you almost too much to handle. He was so big it nearly felt like you were being split in two. You can feel another orgasm building, the pressure mounting with each thrust of his hips. You slide one of your hands down to your hips, trying to hold onto one of his. He takes your hand in his, looking into your eyes as he fills you completely with each hard thrust.

“Say my name,” he grunts, his eyes fixated on yours. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Kuna,” you moan, your walls tightening around his cock.

“Again.” Thrust.

“Sukuna!” Thrust.

He pulls your knees upward toward your chess, pressing you further into the bed to get an even deeper angle. He starts picking up the pace. Your fingers dig into his back, holding on for dear life as he fucks you senseless.

“Again. Say it again.” Thrust. Thrust.

“SUKUNA!!!!” Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. He pounds into you relentlessly. His cock is too big. He's fucking you too good. The pressure is too much.

"That's right," he breathed against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. "Let everyone in this fucking hotel know who you belong to."

He releases your legs and you instinctively wrap them around his waist again. He places a hand on the bed frame, needing something to hold on to, but not wanting to hurt you. His hands — nails, start digging into the frame as he pounds away into you. Over and over and over again. The sound of the frame smacking against the wall sounded throughout the room.

Sukuna grips the frame with a hard thrust, the top of it breaking, tiny pieces of it falling onto the bed. A minor distraction, because nothing in this universe would stop Sukuna from driving into you. Not even if a special grade curse suddenly appeared in your room.

“I'm not done with you yet,” he moans, his voice dark with promise. “I want to take you like this.” In one fluid motion, Sukuna grabs your hips, and picks you up like you’re nothing. He pushes your back against the wall and bounces you on him. His cock reaching up as far into you as possible. The tip kissing your cervix with each deep bounce.

“Kunaa!” you scream as he hits that perfect spot deep inside you. Your soft gummy walls clamp down on his cock, pulsing and squeezing him with each wave of gratification.

"That's it," he groans, his rhythm never faltering. "Take all of me, my wife."

He doesn't slow down, doesn't ever give you a moment to recover as he continues to bounce you on his cock, your back sliding against the wall with each powerful thrust. The sensation is overwhelming, too much and yet somehow not enough.

The pressure is building again, coiling tighter and tighter in your core. You're so close, teetering on the edge of another mind-shattering climax. Sukuna senses it, his pace becoming more urgent, more demanding.

“Give it to me,” he commands, his voice a rough whisper against your ear.

"Sukuna!" you scream one final time, your body convulsing around him as the most intense climax yet tears through you. Your vision blurs, stars exploding behind your eyelids as euphoria consumes you entirely.

"Fuck, y/n," he groans, his rhythm faltering as your walls clench and pulse around his length. "You feel so fucking good when you come on my cock."

Your orgasm hits you with the force of a tidal wave, euphoria spiraling through every nerve ending of your body as Sukuna continues his relentless pace. Your vision blurs, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you scream his name over and over, your voice growing hoarse. Your nails rake down his back, leaving red crescent-shaped trails in their wake, marking him as yours just as thoroughly as he's claiming you.

"Fuck, y/n," he groans, his rhythm faltering as your walls clamp down on him. His grip tightens on your hips, his thrusts growing more and more erratic. "You're going to make me—"

“Do it. Cum inside me,” you plead, your voice barely a whisper.

He continues thrusting through your orgasm, prolonging the waves of pleasure that crash over you. You're trembling beneath him, completely at his mercy, your body responding to his every touch.

He buries himself to the hilt inside you, his powerful body tensing as he finally empties himself deep within you. You feel the hot pulses of his release, his cock twitching against your sensitive walls. His face, usually so controlled and arrogant, is transformed by pleasure, his features softening in a way only his wife gets to witness.

"Fuck, baby" he breathes against your neck, his body collapsing partially onto yours, careful not to crush you.

A shiver runs down your spine as his voice, low and filled with desire, sends waves of longing through you. "Sukuna..." you breathe.

His eyes flash with hunger at the sound of his name falling from your lips, and you both know this moment is just the beginning of an unforgettable night.

And as Sukuna lays you out on the bed, his eyes roving over your naked form, you know that this night, this moment, is everything you've ever wanted. Everything you never knew you needed. Everything you'll never let go of again. This is you and Sukuna, bound together by the unbreakable threads of your love. This is your happily ever after, and it's only just beginning.

EPILOGUE

Five Years Later

On his rare day off, Sukuna lounged lazily on the couch, sipping tea while early morning cartoons played on the television. His son sat beside him, eyes glued to the screen—until something much more pressing caught his attention.

“Dada,” the two-year-old tugged at the hem of Sukuna’s shirt, too short to reach his arms. His little brows furrowed in confusion. “Why is Mama getting so big now?”

Sukuna nearly choked on his drink, coughing between bouts of laughter. Of all the questions he expected this morning, that wasn’t one of them.

“Well—” he started, debating whether he should just let you handle this one. “You’re going to have a little brother or sister soon. They’re growing in Mama’s belly right now.”

“Whaaat?!” Your son gasped, his eyes widening in shock. “She ate my brother or sister?! We have to save them!”

Before Sukuna could refine his explanation, the toddler was already sprinting toward the kitchen, a look of fierce determination on his tiny face.

You glanced up from setting the table just in time to see your son charging at you—foam noodle in hand like a mighty sword.

“Mama, why did you eat my sister or brother?!” he demanded, wielding the noodle with the confidence of a hero about to vanquish a great evil.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Sukuna casually sauntering in behind him. He met your gaze, smirked, and gave a lazy shrug before plopping down at the dining table, clearly ready to eat.

You sighed before ruffling your son's hair. “Sweetie, I didn’t eat them,” you reassured, crouching down to his level. “You were in my belly once too. Your little sibling is just growing there until they’re ready to meet you. I promise they’re okay.”

Your son blinked up at you, processing this new revelation before slowly lowering his foam sword.

Satisfied, you gently took the noodle from his hands and scooped him into his high chair, setting his breakfast in front of him. As you turned back to the table, you caught Sukuna already digging into his food like he hadn’t eaten in days. The second he met your stare, he paused, lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“Don’t give me that look, woman,” he drawled. “I needed a stamina refill after last night.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You’re the one who kept going for more rounds!”

His deep chuckle rumbled through the room, and despite yourself, you laughed along with him.

The three of you enjoyed breakfast together, lighthearted banter filling the air. As you ate, the conversation drifted to potential names for the baby.

After much deliberation (and some very questionable suggestions from Sukuna) your son made the final call.

“Kayo,” he decided firmly, for a little sister. “And Kaen,” he added with equal confidence, for a little brother.

Both were perfect. Just like this little life you and Sukuna were building together.

<- Part 2

A/N This is the final chapter of this story! I'm kinda sad because it's over, but I had a lot of fun writing it. It's the first ever multi-fic thing I've ever actually done. I still am really shy and nervous about writing smut, so if anyone has tips or writing advice, I will gladly take them! Now that this is done, I will now be focusing on Where You Left Me (Reader/Sukuna Zombie AU)

masterlist | jjk masterlist

tags: @darkfaerietails

#jjk #jjk smut #sukuna #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna fluff #jjk fanfic #sukuna fanfic #fluff #divider by cafekitsune

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 1 day ago

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Always Take Care

Caregiver!Agatha Harkness x little!reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: You and your mother never got along, but you're giving her one final chance after years of no contact.

Warnings: Parental neglect, emotional abuse, emotional distress, regression, mentions of past trauma, implied homophobia, emotional breakdown, hurt/comfort, fluffy/happy ending

Authors note: This came from a personal place, so if this hits anyone else as hard, I'm sorry, but also, you aren't alone. This was a request.

Also, to all the littles, seeing this, please tred lightly on this blog! This is my big 18+ blog, but I do have some little!reader fics. Everything is marked accordingly!

You and your mom had never seen eye to eye, but when she'd found out about you regressing, she'd flipped her lid. Throwing all your stuff onto the street. You'd gone off on your own for a few years before she contacted you again.

You'd been in a relationship with Agatha for a year now. She was your girlfriend and caregiver. She'd accepted you right away, taking you in without a second thought. She nurtured and cared for you more in the first week of being together than your own mom had in the first eighteen years of your life.

When you mentioned to Agatha about your mom contacting you, wanting to reconnect, she was suspicious, to say the least, but let you make the decision. She knew how you were with such a big heart. You'd open up to Agatha about the things your mom did wrong, but in the same breath, you'd compliment something she'd done for you. Agatha knew better because of her own mom, of course, but she'd never bad mouth your mom without ever meeting the woman.

"I'll be in the office while you two talk, but if I hear her say something, I'm coming out immediately and putting a stop to it." Agatha spoke in a stern but caring voice. Her hand cupped your cheek that you nuzzled into.

"Of course, Mama!" You looked up at her with big doe eyes that made her smile. Kissing your forehead as the doorbell rang.

"Go on. I'll be right in the office." Agatha said before sauntering off, and you answered the door.

Your mom stood there, a scowl on her face, same as you remember. Her fake designer bag that you knew now that you'd seen the real thing with Agatha. You try to hug her, but she pushes past you.

"Is this actually your house?" She questions, looking around.

"Well, it's my girlfriend's place, but I live here with her." You can almost hear your mom gag when you mention being with a girl. It makes you feel sick, like you've done something wrong.

When she gets to the living room, she stops dead in her tracks. She sees the toys you'd left out this morning. Some plushies, trucks, and dinos. All things your mom never let you play with.

"Are you still on that…What was it?" There’s poison dripping from her words. You can feel your chest tighten.

"Regressing and yes, mom. I do." You try to steady your voice, but it cracks a bit. The scoff that leaves her lips makes you feel like your blood runs cold.

"Go on then. Go and regress. I thought maybe you'd finally grown up, but I see I was wrong, and I should have known you wouldn't change. You're just like your deadbeat father." Each word hits you like an arrow. You feel yourself regress before you can stop it. Feeling like that little kid she'd yell at for the smallest thing.

You sniffle, looking at your feet, feeling so small and stupid to think she'd change.

"Hey!" You hear Agatha's voice raise in a way you've never heard. Both your mom and you snap to attention. Your moms eyes widen just a bit when she sees Agatha. She's older than you, and it's obvious to your mom. She looks like she could be your mom. "You don't get to talk to my girlfriend like that, and you certainly don't get to come into our house and make jabs at our lifestyle choices that hurt no one." Agatha seethes, her heels clicking on the hardwood of the living room. She steps and sizes up your mom, standing more than a few inches taller even if she wasn't wearing heels.

"Who are you to tell me how to raise my daughter?" Your mom spits back.

"Agatha Harkness. Your daughter is an adult. You barely raised her. I'm helping her heal. I only allowed this because she thought you'd change, but you haven't. You still just want to tear your own and only child down. A real mom wouldn't do that. A real mom would love their child unconditionally." Agatha didn't stop or back down.

Your mom fumed, unable to respond properly before storming out, slamming the door behind her.

As soon as the door slams shut behind your mom, Agatha’s hands are on you—gentle but firm, steadying you before you can spiral any further.

"Alright, sweetheart," she murmurs, cupping your face with warm hands. "She’s gone. She’s never coming back. I promise you that."

Your breath hitches, body trembling as you try to process everything. The words, the way she looked at you like you were something broken. You don’t want to feel this way. You don’t want her to have any power over you.

Agatha knows. She always knows.

"Deep breaths for me, darling," she coaxes, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "There you go. Just focus on me. My voice, my touch."

Her thumbs trace soothing circles over your cheeks before she guides you toward the couch, settling you into her lap with ease. The warmth of her body, the steady rise and fall of her breathing—it anchors you.

"You’re safe," she reassures, tucking your head under her chin. "You’re my precious little one, and I won’t let anyone hurt you."

The words melt into you, each one a balm over the wounds your mom tried to reopen. Agatha rocks you gently, humming something soft, fingers carding through your hair.

"You are not weak," she continues, voice filled with quiet conviction. "You are not pathetic. You are my sweet, perfect little love, just as you are."

Tears well up in your eyes, the emotions too big, too overwhelming. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, and Agatha is already there, pressing soft kisses over your temple, your cheek, your nose.

"Shhh, I’ve got you," she whispers, pulling the softest blanket around you both. "I always will."

She lets you cry, lets you bury yourself in her warmth, in her scent, in the safety she wraps around you like armor.

When your sniffles quiet, she shifts just enough to meet your gaze. "Would some warm milk help, my love? Maybe a bath?"

You nod shyly, and she smiles, kissing the tip of your nose. "Good girl. We’ll do both, then."

She carries you effortlessly, as if you weigh nothing at all, murmuring soft praise the entire way. She sets you down only to start running a warm bath, adding lavender bubbles because she knows they’re your favorite.

As she undresses you with delicate fingers, she tuts softly. "My poor baby, all worked up over something that woman said," she sighs, brushing away a stray tear. "But she doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Not anymore. You have me. And I will always, always take care of you."

The bath is warm, soothing, and Agatha stays close, washing your hair with slow, deliberate strokes, rubbing your shoulders until all the tension drains away. When she lifts you out, she wraps you in the fluffiest towel, drying you with all the care in the world.

Then, she dresses you in soft pajamas—ones she picked out just for you, with pastel colors and little stars.

By the time she’s settled you back into her lap on the couch, a bottle of warm milk in hand, the weight of the day has faded into nothing.

"You’re mine, my sweet little one," she whispers, pressing one last kiss to your forehead as you nuzzle into her chest. "And I will never let anyone hurt you again."

Safe, warm, loved—you finally close your eyes, sinking into her embrace, knowing Agatha will always be there to keep you safe.

#ley speaks #ley writes #ley writes requests #ley writes one shots #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #mommy agatha #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #mama!agatha harkness #caregiver!agatha harkness #little!fem!reader #little!reader #cg!agatha harkness #cg!agatha harkness x little!reader #marvel caregiver #fictional caregiver

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chalkrevelations · 3 days ago

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Oh, hell no.

OK, first, yes, a caveat: No, nobody should be yelling at or even speaking to anybody else like that - and that includes you, Dr. Robby, finally showing your cracks so blatantly that the entire ED goes silent and side-eyes you when you yell at Langdon to shut the fuck up - not just Langdon stressed enough post-pedes death that he gets himself manipulated into blowing up at Santos so she can play the victim, mooch Mohan onto her side as secondary backup Garcia now that she's fucked up that alliance, and show everyone just what an unreasonable asshole Langdon is, no really, pretty prommy! despite the fact that they're already coming off another instance where she almost killed a patient because not only can she not be trusted to follow safety protocols designed to keep patients safe, but she can't be trusted to do so even after already being corrected on it.

Anyway, all that being said, the primary thought I come out of The Pitt 1.09 with is that I am done with Trinity Santos. She could save a flaming schoolbus full of 6-year-olds, and I would still be done with her, because she's a liar and she can't be trusted.

If I had been in that ED bay and watched that debacle go down, you can be damn sure that I would never trust her again. I would have no idea when she could decide to lie to - or about - me or one of my patients if she felt like it was going to benefit her in some way. I wouldn't trust her, I wouldn't want to work on a care team with her, and the first thing I'd do would be to file a safety report that I saw her lie to her resident's face - in front of half-a-dozen people - so that the next time it happened, if it was allowed to happen again, and a patient did die, there'd be a paper trail. Because if she'll lie about something that went right, what else will she lie about? If she'll lie to the person responsible for keeping both her and the patients safe while she learns what the fuck she's doing, who else will she lie to?

She's dangerous, and she's a liar, and that makes her even more dangerous. This is not a game of gotcha, these are people's lives.

#also #let's maybe take a look at how medical systems lack of capacity to address all the existing need #contributes to the cracks that both robby and langdon are showing #some of this is systemic and not just in a learned behavior kind of way #but in an "expected to work in untenable conditions' kind of way #anyway #i'm'a be mad if they make langdon a villain over this #the pitt #1.09 spoilers

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ultimatelytired · 2 days ago

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Lullaby pt. 2

word count: 10,231

Fandom: Poppy Playtime Pairing: N/A Pronouns: She/Her Relationship: Familial Occupation: Caretaker Ability: Ballerina Music Box

The character takes the appearance of a beautifully crafted music box ballerina figurine made of the toughest porcelain and glass, their clothes made from real fabric that is soft to touch and hair so smooth and silky you'd mistake it for real hair. Attached to their back is a wind up key that continuously spins when they're active and stops when they switch off. If the key is removed they cease to operate until key is returned and they are wound up again. Before CatNap, the character was the one to put the children to sleep with their built-in music box that would constantly be updated with new songs to play to help ease the children to sleep.

Keys:

[F/N]: Female Name

Warnings: the hour of joy, blood, death, all that shit.

"Lullaby" pt. 1

finally started using grammarly properly and started cleaning up my shit, i'm kind of happy about the outcome, though grammarly does tend to repeat a couple words.

I originally wanted to make this longer but I'll put in what I want in the next part.

that is all.

It was just like any other day.

Wake up.

Do a headcount during breakfast.

Guide the children to school.

Clean up around Home Sweet Home.

Entertain the Smiling Critters.

Play with the children after their lessons.

And so on and so forth. But a problem arose when she was in the middle of cleaning up Home Sweet Home. It was late at night, and the staff had missed a few things during their shift. Rather than wait for the morning crew, she decided to take care of it herself. Usually, a few lingering night guard employees would patrol Home Sweet Home while she "slept," taking over her job of monitoring the Playcare. But tonight, she was struggling to find them—or at least the one in charge.

"Where the hell is the night guard...?" she muttered to herself, standing on the second floor and looking over the railing to try and spot the man. A quiet breath left her lips when she still couldn't find him. She sighed, frustrated, her nails tapping against the oak beneath her fingers. Forget it—she'd find him later.

She moved on to the third level of Home Sweet Home, where the Smiling Critters resided. Peeking into their rooms, she nodded softly when she saw them all sound asleep. But when she opened CatNap's door—

"H-Help me..." Her eyes widened at the sight of one of the morning staff lying in a pool of their own blood, deep scratch marks gouged along their arms and face. Huh—no wonder she hadn’t seen them earlier that afternoon. Slowly, she lifted her eyes and found CatNap staring at her, shock clear in his gaze. He hadn’t expected her. Some of the red smoke escaped his mouth, though they both knew it didn’t work on her.

"P-Please save me..." the injured woman pleaded, grabbing Ballade's leg and trying to pull herself up. Ballade froze, her mind racing. Why did she have to walk in at this moment? Why now? This woman had been pestering CatNap all day to "open up," insisting she was "there for him." He’d ignored her until she cornered him in his room, and clearly, things had escalated.

What was Ballade going to do? Report this to the higher-ups? Send CatNap to the doctor to fix his violent outburst? Was she scared of him? There was nothing he could do to stop her. Despite being made before the Smiling Critters, Ballade’s model had been designed to handle toys the humans couldn’t control. He took a step back when he saw her glance down at the woman, her hand reaching out. He expected her to help her up—but instead, her hand crushed the woman’s head in one swift motion.

Ballade waited for the twitching to stop before she removed her hand, looking back up at CatNap. She smiled softly. Before she could speak, the sound of footsteps echoed outside the room. She pressed a finger to her lips and gestured for him to stay quiet. Lifting the woman’s body by the neck, she stepped out and shut the door just as the night guard appeared.

"Ah, there you are, Balla—" He stopped, eyes widening at the sight of the dead body. "Why on earth do you have a corpse?" She shrugged.

"I thought she was an intruder and dealt with her the way the Head Executives told me to." He stared for a moment, then shrugged.

"Whatever, as long as you don't do that to me."

"You have a reason to be here overnight. She did not. I didn’t expect anyone but the nightguards to be here—and I know you wouldn’t sneak around like a rodent." She smiled sweetly as the woman’s bones cracked under her grip.

"R-Right... So, uh, what are you going to do with her body?"

"Feed her to Boxy. If the children ask why she’s missing, I’ll just say she’s sick and needs time to recover. Mister Pierre prefers it when I kill the staff—saves him money on wages."

"Sounds like him." The guard nodded. "Need any help?"

"I’ll manage. I’ll be back once the body’s disposed of." With a polite bow of her head, she turned away. Noticing the guard linger near CatNap's door, she held her breath—but he simply shook his head and walked off in the opposite direction. "Perhaps I should thank CatNap. Now I get to see Boxy Boo~ It’s been a while." Tossing the corpse over her shoulder, she made her way down to the prison. The night shift employees didn’t blink an eye when she passed with a body in tow. They knew the drill.

The moment Boxy's cell opened, his eyes peeked through the crack—and then the lid burst open. His tongue lolled out at the sight of fresh meat. She caressed his head gently before tossing the body onto the floor. As he ate, she sat beside him, talking about anything that came to mind. Boxy couldn’t speak, but she knew he was listening—and understanding.

It was hard to leave him, especially when he whined softly for her to stay. But she had other matters to attend to.

"Oh, kitty cat~" she cooed softly as she entered CatNap's room, now dressed in fresh clothes. She had taken longer than expected—mopping up blood was a tedious task. But she was back, and she found him sitting nervously on his bed. "You must be curious about what just happened, hmm?" She didn’t sit beside him, mindful of his nerves. Instead, she knelt before him, waiting patiently.

"... You killed her," he said quietly.

"I did."

"The human guard was fine with it..."

"He was."

"... Have you killed before?"

"Many times." She looked down at her porcelain hands, imagining the blood that had stained them so often. "I am Playcare's security for a reason. So long as I don't step out of line, I can deal with these humans however I like—and they won’t bat an eye. Mister Pierre prefers it. Saves him money and resources." Her voice softened as her hands began to tremble. "But I hate the human employees. They know what we are, what was done to us—and still, they smile while they lead children to their deaths. So yes, when I kill them—when they beg and plead—I enjoy it."

The sadistic glint in her eyes startled CatNap. But then her expression crumbled.

"But then I remember those children. I smile with them, sing with them, play with them—and I lie to them. I give them hope that they’ll leave this hell, knowing they never will. And that makes me just like those adults. I let those kids slip through my fingers." She clenched her shaking hands. "I hate myself for it."

"I don’t think you’re like them," he whispered. "You try to keep us safe. You let me go when I tried to escape." She blinked, startled that he remembered.

"And I am grateful to 1006 for saving your life. But that still isn't enough. I just want them to be free, even if it means I have to stay down here to repent for what I have done." She looked up when CatNap's paws grabbed her hands.

"The Prototype will save us." She blinked in confusion.

"T-The Prototype? But how? Ever since you two tried to escape, he's been put in a high-security cell that only the Head Executives and the Doctor can access. I'm allowed to roam the prison however I like, but even I'm not allowed near it. I-It's impossible." She shivered slightly when he gave a low chuckle.

"He will give us salvation. With him, we will know true freedom." He noticed the way her face broke, even if it was just for a second; he saw the way his words were getting to her. "If we side with the Prototype, he will free us from this prison." Her gaze stayed on him before it drifted to the side.

"I don't care if I have to stay down here, I just want those kids to be free." She licked her lips as she looked at him. "If I help... will he promise to set them free?" He grinned.

"The Prototype will set us all free." She wavered, swallowing thickly as she took her hands back.

"I need to think about this, Theo. If something goes wrong--" He shook his head.

"Nothing will go wrong." She sighed.

"We don't know that. I haven't agreed nor have I declined the thought of siding with the Prototype, but I just need to think about this. If I do agree... I'll come find you, but it'll take me some time." He nodded his head.

"There's no need to rush, [F/N]."

"Thank you, Theo." She smiled, albeit weakly, and hugged him. "I really needed this."

"... If you ever need to talk, I'll be here." She hummed softly.

"You're probably the only one who would understand, but I don't want to burden you with my thoughts." He shook his head.

"It's the least I can do with all the stress you have to carry."

"Hah, then I appreciate it." She scratched under his chin and nuzzled her cheek against his. "I won't say a word about our conversation to anyone, but tell me if anyone else bothers you. I will personally take care of it. Or if you kill anyone, tell me and I'll clean it up. You're not technically allowed to kill anyone, so we'll both get in trouble if that occurs." He let out his own laugh.

"I'll keep that in mind." CatNap perked up when he felt her movements start to lag, so he looked at the wind-up key and saw that it was beginning to slow. Noticing this, he gently nudged her stomach. "You should go back to your stage; you're beginning to slow down."

"Oh, I didn't even notice." She started pushing herself up but struggled a little. She let out a noise when CatNap stood up and let her lean on his body. "Thank you."

"Allow me to help you down..." She hummed softly.

"I appreciate the help." The nightguards didn't question CatNap helping Ballade down the stairs and onto her stage, where he waited for her key to stop turning to finally leave her alone. They all knew that CatNap was her favorite out of all the Smiling Critters and figured if they couldn't find her in her usual spots, she'd be with that colossal cat.

And so the days went on as if nothing happened in the first place. A few of the children did notice that the woman was missing but eventually forgot about it when Ballade said she was at home resting after catching a cold. The Smiling Critters did notice that Ballade and CatNap seemed a lot closer than usual; they also knew that CatNap was her favorite, but whatever occurred that night seemed to have strengthened their bond. Speaking of which, they needed Ballade for something and found both her and CatNap on her stage with a couple of other children drawing.

"What a wonderful blend of colors, sweetheart. Crafty Corn has taught you well during her arts and crafts lessons." Ballade praised as she looked over their art piece, quite impressed by their skill. "You will make a fine artist someday, child." She teasingly pinched their nose and giggled softly when they squealed.

"Stop that!" She held her hands up in surrender before leaning back into CatNap once more, her hand absentmindedly patting his head while her music box played songs that helped him sleep. Her other hand was drawing circles in the air before she finally noticed DogDay, Bobby, and Bubba, where she perked up and waved her hand to greet them. "Good afternoon, children! Care to join us?" She cocked a brow when she saw the three of them look nervous.

"Um, you're not particularly busy, are you?" She looked at the children that were sprawled all over her stage while CatNap nestled close into her back before looking back up at them.

"...Not really, no. Why?" Their reason was so ridiculous it woke CatNap up; even the children were staring in confusion. That's where she found herself staring down at Kickin and Hoppy, who had somehow gotten themselves stuck in the children's playground. "And you did this because you wanted to prove you could fit through the hole?" At least Hoppy had the decency to look shameless; Kickin just huffed as he hung by his waist from out of the hole he was stuck in.

"...Yes." She shook her head.

"You do know that this is a playground built for tiny children, correct?" She chuckled softly when Hoppy covered her face with her ears. "Have anything to say for yourselves?"

"...Help us?"

"No!" She slapped a hand onto her forehead and let out a sigh while the crowd of children laughed when Hoppy and Kickin apologized, which was what she really wanted. The next hour was spent with Ballade trying to get them out without damaging the playground or hurting the two, but both were difficult. The two of them had wedged themselves pretty tight, and she couldn't pull them out without tearing their stitching. She practically had to tear the holes they were in wide enough for them to slip out, but due to this, it destroyed the part of the playground they got themselves stuck in. She then spent the next half hour explaining to a few of the employees what happened while Hoppy and Kickin were on their knees with their arms above their heads as a form of punishment.

"You guys did this to yourselves," Bubba said, Picky and Crafty nodding their heads from behind the elephant.

"We're sorry..." Hoppy and Kickin sighed, DogDay snickering softly.

"The children had a good laugh out of it," Bobby said, pursing her lips as she scratched her cheek.

"Sure, but now they have to close the playground so they can fix what Miss Ballade broke to get them out." They looked back over at her and saw how she pinched the bridge of her nose at what the employee told her, then apologized and consoled the children when they learned they couldn't play on the playground. "Way to go, you two."

"Let's hope Miss Ballade doesn't get in trouble. They don't like it when we break any of the property," Crafty said.

"Perhaps since it was her, she won't get into a lot of trouble."

"Still, I can't help but worry." Hoppy and Kickin felt even worse; because of their competitiveness, they were getting Ballade in trouble. True to her suspicion, Leith reprimanded Ballade for not keeping an eye on the two and for not thinking of any alternatives to prying them free. CatNap was the one to slink over to her side to comfort her but flinched upon noticing that behind her smile-painted face was the look of rage burning in her eyes. Her hand closed into a tight fist, her entire frame trembling with suppressed anger as she watched Leith with Stella and a few other employees walk away. Her eyes snapped over to CatNap when she felt him press himself against her side, his presence the only thing keeping her from lashing out. She took a slow breath, forcing her muscles to relax, but her voice, when she spoke, was tight and low.

"Thank you..." she spoke softly, his ears perked up at her words. "You're really the only person that can calm me down..." Her voice was barely above a whisper, soft enough that only he could hear. The way CatNap lit up had the children thinking that Ballade was going to reward him with something. A broken, rumbling purr rippled from his throat as he rubbed affectionately against her side. She responded by kneeling down, her painted smile still in place, and nuzzled her cheek gently against his fur. The warmth of the gesture seemed so natural, so familiar, that the children watching giggled at the display.

But then her eyes shifted, softening as they landed on Hoppy and Kickin. Their ears drooped, and their expressions were heavy with guilt. Without hesitation, she approached them. They jumped in surprise when her hands landed softly on their heads, then cupped the back of them to pull them into a warm embrace. She felt the way they trembled in her hold, their little bodies overcome with remorse.

"W-We're sorry for getting you in trouble, Miss Ballade..."

"We promise we won't d-do it again..." they whimpered softly, their voices shaking. She shook her head, her grip on them gentle but firm.

"It's fine, it's better if I get in trouble than you lot. They would be far harsher on you than they ever would be with me." The thought chilled her, though she kept her tone calm and comforting. We’re lucky all I got was a talking to and nothing else, she thought bitterly. Pulling back just enough to meet their eyes, she offered a soft, reassuring smile. "As long as you learn from this, all is fine." she sweat dropped when they started crying so she continued to hold them until they eventually calmed down.

The next day, determined to make things right, Hoppy and Kickin approached the playground supervisor and took full responsibility for the damage. They also worked together to organize an impromptu arts and crafts day with Crafty Corn’s help, keeping the children entertained while the playground was being repaired. They even helped with the cleanup and offered to assist in the minor repairs they could manage without making things worse. Ballade couldn't help but be impressed by their initiative to take responsibility—perhaps the two of them were finally learning—until she noticed them bickering again, each claiming the idea had been theirs. She cleared her throat pointedly, and with one sharp look, the two fell silent.

Despite their antics, the effort they put in didn’t go unnoticed. By the end of the week, the playground was on its way to being fixed, and the children had enjoyed a day filled with laughter and creativity. Even Stella, seeing their hard work, made a point to praise them for stepping up. Later, as the day came to an end, Ballade found herself once again sitting with CatNap on her stage, watching the children show off their colorful creations. She let out a soft sigh, her hand absentmindedly stroking behind his ears.

“Maybe they’ll grow out of it one day,” she mused. CatNap chuckled, his purring a gentle vibration against her side.

“Maybe. But where would the fun be in that?” Ballade smiled despite herself, the warmth of the moment washing away the week’s troubles. For now, at least, there was peace—and perhaps just a little bit of hope.

Until—

"We're a head short..." Ballade murmured to herself as she counted the children that exited the school, she grew nervous when she counted again and again but she still ended up short one child. "Even one of the Miss Delight teachers is missing. Where could they have gone?" One of the Miss Delight teachers approached Ballade after hearing her question.

"Miss Ballade, thank goodness I've found you." She raised a brow.

"What is it?" She looked down at the teacher and watched her pace.

"The employees came earlier today and pulled one of the children aside." Ballade's face turned cold at what she said. "We know we're not supposed to interfere when they take the children, but they weren't following the correct procedure, so one of my sisters is stalling them." Miss Delight flinched when she saw the dark look on Ballade's face, her voice dropping.

"Where are they?" she asked, her tone sharp and dangerous.

"If she's stopped them, they should be close to the back."

She nodded once and turned, her pace brisk and her mind already racing through every possible scenario. Her breath quickened as she navigated the halls, thoughts swirling in a dangerous storm. If they were taking a child now, in broad daylight, it was far outside protocol. They were only supposed to remove the children at lights out—when it was easier to explain away their absence by saying they had fallen ill overnight. If they were breaking that rule, it meant that the scientists were eager to experiment on a child instead of having the lucky "chosen child" that was lucky to be adopted.

"Please, don't take Sarah away!" Miss Delight's desperate plea echoed through the corridor, trembling with fear and determination. Ballade’s sharp eyes immediately locked onto the two employees holding the child—Sarah—between them, their grips too firm and their faces too tense. Sarah’s frightened whimpers tugged at something primal inside Ballade. When one of the employees pushed Miss Delight back, Ballade’s vision flashed with fury. Her smile, painted and eternal, hid the storm brewing just beneath the surface.

"Unhand that child." Ballade’s voice was calm—too calm—but the weight of it filled the air like a thunderclap. Every head turned toward her, and the employees visibly stiffened under her gaze.

"Miss Ballade, this is none of your concern—"

"It becomes my concern when my children are frightened," she cut in coldly. She advanced slowly, every step measured, her eyes never leaving theirs. "And it becomes my problem when protocols are ignored." She stopped mere feet from them, her towering presence suffocating in its intensity. "So I will only say this once more: unhand the child. Now." they were quick to heed her words and they let Sarah go, who cried weakly and fell into Miss Delight's embrace.

"I-I was so scared...!" she sobbed softly, Ballade waved her hand and gestured for Miss Delight to take the child and leave.

"I'll handle this, go join the rest of the children and your sisters." she bowed her head, thanking the figurine profusely as she rushed away with the child in hand. When they were both out of sight and she knew they were alone, her fist connected with the wall beside their head and they both jumped in fright when it made a hole. The sharp crack of breaking plaster echoed through the corridor, and dust rained down around them.

"What do you think you were doing, hmm?" she asked, her friendly persona disappearing as she glared down at the two humans, who trembled under her terrifying gaze. Her eyes, usually warm and expressive, had turned cold and razor-sharp, her smile a painted mockery of calm.

"W-We... We were just fo-- following orders." they answered, their voices shaking.

"Oh? Then why didn't you follow the proper procedure?" Ballade’s voice was low and dangerous, like a blade sliding from its sheath. She took a slow, deliberate step forward, and they instinctively backed away. "If you are to take a child, I am to be informed so I don't act the way I am acting right now." The venom in her tone made their knees buckle. "Even so, why aren't you following the correct protocol?"

She advanced again, her presence suffocating and overwhelming. "When you are to take a child in broad daylight, especially when there are other children to witness your actions, you must do it in a way that doesn't cause the child to stress and raise alarms. And yet here you are—manhandling her like some kind of thief." Her voice dropped to a whisper, which somehow made it even more terrifying. "Are you thieves? Are you looking to steal from me? Because I will not tolerate anyone who threatens my children." One of the employees tried to stammer out an excuse, but Ballade slammed her hand against the wall again, cutting them off. The impact left another crack in the plaster, and both humans flinched violently.

"Give me one good reason," she hissed, her eyes burning with fury, "why I shouldn't report you to the Head Executives myself. Or perhaps..." She tilted her head, her smile twisting into something darker. "Perhaps I should take this up with the Doctor. I'm sure he'd love to use you in a few of his experiments." They paled at the mention of the Doctor, their fear now nearly tangible.

"Please... it was a mistake! We—we won't do it again!" one of them whimpered.

"You’re right about that," Ballade snapped. "Because if you ever step out of line again, I promise you—there won’t be enough left of you for anyone to find. Now get out of my sight."

She closed her eyes, taking a slow breath to calm herself before ripping her hands free from the wall, flexing her fingers to shake off the debris. She was confused—why wasn't she informed that they were taking one of the children that day? Why did they show up at the school to remove little Sarah? The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. Something wasn’t right.

Did she do the right thing stepping in the way she did? The answer was clear in her heart—yes. But the weight of what she’d just done pressed heavily on her mind. She figured they were going to inform the higher-ups about her interference, and she knew there would be consequences. But was she really at fault? Was protecting the children wrong? Haa, she was going to get into so much trouble.

Her fingers twitched with leftover adrenaline as she turned to leave, but then she remembered the holes she had made. Her eyes darted around the corridor, scanning for any witnesses. Once she was sure the coast was clear, she grabbed the nearby lockers and, with little to no effort, shifted them just enough to conceal the damage.

Perfect.

She stepped back, brushing dust from her hands and examining her work with a critical eye. No one would know—at least for now.

"Miss Ballade!" her head perked up when she saw DogDay rushing up to her, his ears flopping with every hurried step. His face was a mix of worry and confusion "I heard what happened from Miss Delight! Are you alright?" She waved her hand to dismiss his concern, the painted smile on her face still intact, but her eyes betrayed her unease.

"I am fine, nothing to fret about," she answered calmly, her hand gently patting his shoulder in reassurance. "But I am concerned. Why would they break protocol? The scientists are usually very thorough on how they... take the children. They are never ones to send the employees—never in broad daylight, and never without informing me." Her voice softened, but the tension in it was unmistakable.

"Why would they do that?" she sighed.

"I haven't a clue." She jumped when she heard a cry, so she looked over DogDay and saw little Sarah clinging to Miss Delight's dress, the woman doing her best to comfort the child. Miss Delight's usual calm demeanor was visibly shaken, her hands smoothing over Sarah's hair in a desperate attempt to ease her fear.

"I-I was so scared, Miss Delight! I didn't do anything wrong!" The Smiling Critters, who had heard the commotion, huddled around the little girl, their soft voices trying to soothe her with gentle reassurances. Bobby reached out to pat her shoulder, and Crafty offered one of her handmade paper flowers, but nothing seemed to ease Sarah’s sobs. The moment Ballade approached, Sarah’s wide, tear-filled eyes locked onto her, and without hesitation, the little girl rushed over and threw her arms around Ballade's legs tightly. "I swear I didn't do anything wrong, Miss Ballade!" The heartbreak in Sarah's voice made Ballade’s chest tighten, her smile unable to mask the surge of emotion welling up inside her. She knelt down slowly, gently holding the trembling girl by her arms, brushing a stray lock of hair from Sarah's damp cheek.

"I'm sure you did nothing wrong, little one. But fear not—your friend Miss Ballade Ballerina thwarted their efforts! They won’t be coming to scare you, not anymore." Her voice softened with a warm, protective lilt, but inside, she felt a cold fury still simmering from the encounter. She gasped softly when Sarah threw her arms around her neck, her tiny frame shaking with sobs. Ballade sighed, the sound soft and heavy as her own arms wrapped securely around the child, one hand cradling the back of Sarah’s head as she whispered gentle reassurances. "I'll make sure of it," she promised, her voice low and fierce with quiet determination. She knew those words meant more than Sarah could ever understand.

"T-Thank you, Miss Ballade. I'm glad I can trust you." The girl’s words were muffled against her shoulder, but they struck Ballade harder than any blow. Her breath caught as she felt Sarah nuzzle closer into her embrace, seeking safety and comfort. The weight of guilt settled deeper into Ballade’s mind, cold and unshakable.

She really shouldn't place her trust in her.

CatNap noticed Ballade becoming more distant from herself after the incident with the child as bedtime approached. No one else seemed to pick up on the subtle changes — the way her painted smile looked just a bit more strained, how her eyes wavered every time she looked at the children. The mask she always wore, the one that kept her true emotions hidden, was slipping. She lingered longer when the children hugged her, held them a little tighter, as if trying to memorize the warmth of their small arms around her. Their laughter, their trust — it weighed heavily on her shoulders. They told her how much they loved spending time with her, and each word chipped away at her carefully constructed facade. It had always been easy to fake happiness for their sake, to protect their ignorant bliss… but with each passing day, it became so much harder to keep up the act.

It was during bedtime, after they put the children to sleep and she was walking CatNap back to his room, when he finally understood why.

"I'll do it." his head perked up when she spoke, her face void of any emotion.

"... do what?" her eyes hardened, whether it be at him or herself, he couldn't really tell.

"Whatever you and 1006 need, I'll do it." Ballade's shoulders slumped as her eyes fixated on a picture frame of the children laughing and smiling, not a single bad thought behind their innocent eyes. She stared at it, the image feeling so distant— like something she could never quite reach. She wondered what it would feel like to truly hold them, to feel their warmth, the softness of their little hands when they reached out for her. But she never would. The sensation of touch was something foreign, a mystery she'd never get to experience again in this body. Every embrace she gave them was empty for her, a performance of comfort she could never fully share.

"I can't do it anymore." Her voice broke, trembling with the weight of her words. "It pains me every time I watch those children cry and ask me what they did wrong to be taken away, how they trust me with every inch of their small bodies and I trample all over it just by simply existing." She wanted so badly to feel the way they held onto her, to know the security they believed she gave them. But all she ever felt was the aching hollowness where that connection should have been.

"I hate going to the prison and hearing their anguished cries to be let out, to go home, to be free." Her hands shook at her sides, the phantom feeling of their terrified clinging playing through her mind — sensations she could only imagine. "I hate lying to them, telling them everything will be okay when I know it won’t." she could imagine the sensation of tears welling up in her eyes, though they could never fall since she lacked the proper glands to produce them. "They look at me like I’m their protector, their safe place… and every time one of them disappears, I know I've failed them again." She clenched her fists so tightly her porcelain hands threatened to crack, but even the pain of it was absent. The frustration of that emptiness only made the ache inside her deepen.

Ballade's fingers traced the frame’s edges, her hands trembling as she fought to keep her composure. CatNap watched her quietly, his tail flicking with unease. It was rare to see Ballade like this— so vulnerable, so worn down by guilt and sorrow. He padded closer, pressing his head against her arm in an attempt to offer some comfort.

"They deserve better," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Better than me. Better than this place." CatNap let out a low, broken purr, his eyes flickering with a knowing look.

"Then let's change it," he murmured, his voice soft but resolute. Ballade turned to him, her eyes wide but weak.

"But what if we fail?" he shook his head.

"We won't. With your help, freedom will be in ours hands. The Prototype will make sure of that, I promise." her lip trembled and he'd think she'd start crying but she was unable to, she bit her lip and knelt down to press her forehead against his.

"I don't care what happens to me, CatNap, so long as those kids get to leave this hellish place." Her voice hardened. "I'll side with you and the Prototype if it means those kids get to be free, if it means they don't have to suffer anymore." She turned to face him, eyes burning with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. "Just tell me what you guys are going to do, and I'll be right on your side." she was fully on her knees as she wrapped her arms around CatNap's neck and nuzzled into his head, he returned the affection as a single thought went through his mind.

He had won.

Ever since their conversation to help the Prototype, CatNap observed Ballade closely. He saw how the weight of her decision pressed down on her more with each passing day. There was a newfound desperation in her every action, an urgency that hadn’t been there before—because now there was chance to finally make things right. Now there was a possibility that the children's suffering could finally end, and that chance both strengthened and broke her.

He noticed how she struggled to get by every day, caught between the promise of freedom for the children and the reality of her own helplessness. The knowledge that she could finally save them gnawed at her, but with it came the agony of waiting—waiting for the right time, waiting for the right plan. Every second felt like a betrayal, knowing the children she loved were still at risk.

Ballade’s guilt was killing her. She hated herself for every moment she stood by and did nothing while the children were taken—frightened, confused, and pleading for answers she couldn’t give. She hated the way they trusted her so completely, how they clung to her and sought comfort in her arms when she knew she couldn’t protect them. And worse, she hated how she longed for their touch even though she couldn’t feel it.

That emptiness haunted her. Every time a child’s small hand slipped into hers, every time they hugged her tight, she could only pretend to feel it. She could see their warmth, their affection, but it never reached her. And yet she held onto those moments as if they could somehow fill the void inside her. She clung to their love because it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

"... the Prototype has a plan, [F/N]. But we must wait before we can act on it."

"How long must I wait?"

"I'm sure you can be patient." a weak chuckle escaped her throat when he saw her pout, he nudged his head against her cheek "Our freedom will be guaranteed with you on our side." she nods.

"Just tell me when, and I'll do whatever you two need me to do."

Having Ballade side with the Prototype was the last hurdle in their final plan. She was already well aware that the Prototype was one of the most dangerous experiments to ever come out of the Bigger Bodies Initiative. And though she was no match for a force as powerful and unpredictable as the Prototype itself, Ballade was more than capable of handling CatNap and the other Bigger Bodies. That was her job — not only to care for the children and dispose of any unwanted guests but to apprehend any of the toys that stepped out of line. She’d done it before, and she can most definitely do it again. She remembered the incident with Mommy Longlegs vividly — the frantic way the creature lashed out when the children left the Game Station and moved into Playcare. The hysteria had escalated so quickly that Ballade had been forced to tie Mommy Longlegs' limbs together just to stop her from going on a rampage. It wasn’t the first time Ballade had been made to turn on one of her own, and wouldn’t be the last so long as the toys did their jobs.

The Prototype will be most pleased to learn Ballade has sided with him.

[august eighth 1995, 10.00 am]

Deep breath.

In, and out.

Quell your nerves.

"Ballade, are you alright?" her eyes move down to one of the human counselors and saw the way the woman looked up at her in concern, seemingly noticing she wasn't acting like herself, but Ballade easily masked her unease and smiled.

"Don't worry about me, Miss. Just trying to come up with more ways to entertain the children, the older ones are growing bored of the usual activities I usually plan out. I'm struggling to come up with new things to keep them entertained." the woman laughed as she pats Ballade on the back.

"I'm sure you can come up with something, you're quite creative when it comes to keeping those kids on their toes!" she gave a laugh in response to her words.

"I try my best." she waves her hand goodbye when the woman had to return to the Counselor's Office, missing the way Ballade's eyes turned cold as they observed all the human employees walking around. It was like any other ordinary day within the Playcare, the children were up and escorted to the dining hall for breakfast by the Smiling Critters then guided to the school to proceed with the day. It was only a matter of time before it all begins, and they won't even know what hit them.

".... don't tell me you're chickening out, [F/N]." a bitter laugh escapes her lips when CatNap appeared beside her, she looked down at him and could practically see the eagerness in his eyes "It's almost upon us." she huffed.

"Yes, the day they all reap what they sow. The other Critters are still unaware, right?" he nods.

"They are. They're not nearly as understanding as you, so I was afraid to outright tell them the details about what was going to happen today." he saw the way her shoulders slumped.

"I feel like that it's for the better, Theo. Better to stain our hands than than the others." she let out a breath "Then we're going for plan b?" he nods his head.

"I have already told them to meet us beneath the Playhouse." she closed her eyes and briefly looked back into Home Sweet Home to find the clock and it was only half past ten, he watched her and saw the way she rubbed her arms nervously "Remember, [F/N], we're doing this to secure our freedom. The Prototype is giving us our chance to do right by the children by not only saving them, but ourselves." despite her hesitation, she nodded.

"You're right." she inhaled deeply before they both made their way to the Playhouse, they went through the back to avoid running into any other staff members or children and found the Smiling Critters in the prison, Ballade made sure there was nobody else beneath the Playhouse before entering the room alone.

"Children... something drastic is going to happen in the next half hour, and though I don't want you to participate in what is going to happen, I can't leave you in the dark." Kickin let out a nervous chuckle, his feathered hand rubbing the back of his head.

"W-What do you mean? Does this have to do with what CatNap was yapping about months ago?" she nodded.

"What exactly has he told you?" They looked at each other rather anxiously, Bobby pressing her paws together.

"He mentioned... the Prototype? Saying stuff about how he'll save us." Hoppy nodded.

"He was really cryptic with his words. It kind of freaked me out."

"CatNap was talking about how there will come a time when we will get to take back our lives if we... join the Prototype," Bubba said, his hooves messing with his lightbulb-shaped zipper.

"CatNap wasn't s-serious about us joining the Prototype, right? The staff told us that he was very dangerous," Crafty murmured softly.

"He's been obsessed with that thing for ages. I thought he would have gotten over it years ago," Picky added. DogDay, in turn, gave a forced laugh as he looked up at Ballade. He felt uneasy with how they were all trapped in the cramped room with Ballade blocking their way out. The dimly lit room didn’t help calm his nerves as Ballade looked down at them all with an unreadable expression.

"He wasn't being serious though, right? He was probably just trying to scare us! He wouldn't really consider joining hands with that experiment." He took Ballade by the hand and looked up at her for some sort of reassurance. "If you're talking to us about this, then that means CatNap brought this up with you as well. He wasn't being serious about helping the Prototype, right? You talked him out of it, right?" They all looked up at her eagerly and saw the way she couldn't meet their eyes.

"M-Miss Ballade?" When she took a step forward, they felt a chill run down their spines when they saw the look in her eyes.

"The Prototype will set us free," she spoke with a rather eerie voice. She took DogDay's paw and squeezed it, a look of desperate and conflicted expression on her face. "He said that if we help him, we'll be saving the orphans from being killed."

DogDay yanked his paw back, stepping away as if burned. "You... you're siding with the Prototype?" His voice was trembling, his wide eyes filled with disbelief.

Ballade flexed her hands, her painted smile a stark contrast to the pain in her eyes. "I didn’t, initially," she whispered. "But I’ve grown tired of seeing so many children dying at the hands of the scientists — and I let it all happen because I couldn't do anything about it. If we help him, he promises that he'll set them free... He’ll set you free! Don't you understand? If siding with the Prototype means we get to end this madness, then so be it."

The room fell into a suffocating silence.

"No," Hoppy whispered, her ears flattened against her head. "No, this isn’t right… You—You can’t believe him!"

"The Prototype is a monster!" Bobby cried. "He’s dangerous — the humans told us so!"

"And the humans lie!" Ballade snapped, her voice cracking as emotion bled through. "They hurt us! They hurt the children! How many more have to suffer before we fight back?!"

"Not like this," DogDay said softly, shaking his head. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "Not like this, Miss Ballade…" they stare up at her in terror as her shoulders deflated, she let out a defeated breath as she lowered her head.

“Then... you leave me no choice.” Ballade’s voice was heavy with regret as she stepped to the side, one hand reaching for the doorknob behind her. It was then that they noticed the red smoke seeping from beneath the doorframe. When she turned the knob and pulled the door open, the thick, eerie mist flooded into the room, swirling around their feet. CatNap stepped in silently, his eyes gleaming with purpose.

“I can’t have you stopping us,” Ballade continued, her voice quiet but resolute. “Nor telling the adults what you’ve learned.” As the door clicked shut behind CatNap, the red smoke spread, filling the room like a creeping tide.

“W-What are you doing?” Kickin’s voice wavered, panic rising.

“Why are you doing this, Ballade?!” Bubba cried out, fear evident in his eyes.

One by one, they succumbed. The red smoke took them swiftly, their bodies crumpling to the floor as the strange gas overtook them. Ballade stood still, taking a deep breath—unaffected—as the others collapsed around her. Only DogDay resisted, his knees buckling as he fought to stay conscious, his teeth clenched.

“Please... don’t...” he whispered, his vision blurring.

But it was futile. As his strength gave out and he began to fall, Ballade caught him, cradling him gently in her arms. For a moment, she held him there, her grip firm but careful. When she pulled away, her fingers brushed against his face, cupping his cheeks with a heartbreaking tenderness.

“I’m doing this for your own good,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You’ll forgive me for this when it’s all over... when you see what we’ve done was to save you.”

DogDay’s hand gripped her shoulder weakly, his eyes pleading—but then his strength faded completely, and his body went limp. Ballade closed her eyes, forcing herself to swallow the guilt rising in her throat. With methodical care, she gathered the others, dragging their unconscious forms into their individual cells. The sound of the locks clicking into place echoed in the still air, and she stood in the silence that followed, her heart heavy.

For a long moment, she lingered at the door, her hand resting on the cold metal.

“You did what you could, [F/N],” CatNap said softly behind her. “I’m sure they’ll thank you when this is all over.”

Ballade clasped her hands together tightly, the motion more to steady herself than anything else. “I just hope... my judgment isn’t wrong.” She looked down at CatNap, her eyes sincere but filled with doubt. “The Prototype will uphold his promise... right? The orphans will be set free... right?”

She didn’t trust the Prototype—how could she?—but she trusted CatNap. And CatNap believed in him. That was the only reason she was still standing here.

The only reason she hadn’t turned back.

"The doctors say he's dangerous, but he wants what's best for us all." this was enough to reassure her, she reached down and ruffled his head.

"If you say so." she takes another breath to calm herself one last time "We should probably go, it's almost time." he nods.

"The Hour of Joy is almost upon us." she chuckled as she laced her fingers together and pushed them forward, hearing her joints crack under the pressure.

"Let's get to work."

There were many toys that the Prototype managed to recruit to his cause, each one with their own grudges and reasons for joining his orchestrated rebellion throughout the entirety of Playtime Co. From Huggy Wuggy, stationed menacingly within the main lobby with his sharp-toothed grin and cold, unblinking eyes, to Mommy Longlegs lurking within the Game Station alongside the ever-watchful Mini Huggies, waiting with predatory patience for their signal to strike. In Playcare, the heart of the children's refuge, CatNap and Ballade stood as the most dangerous of his allies—each powerful in their own right, each burdened with their own twisted sense of duty and guilt.

Even Miss Delight, the ever-cheerful face of comfort for the orphans, was drawn into this uprising, her tears of joy and sadness masking the deep-seated resentment she bore toward the human employees. And then there were the mini Smiling Critters—once innocent and carefree, now caught between loyalty and fear. They hadn’t yet chosen their sides, and that hesitation made them dangerous liabilities.

The Prototype extended a hand to all the toys who had suffered at the hands of the human employees, promising them more than just vengeance. He offered them freedom—freedom from the torment of their artificial existence, from the chains of servitude and the horror of seeing the children they loved and protected dragged away, never to return. It was a chance to end the cycle of pain and finally reclaim their lives from those who had treated them as nothing more than tools and experiments.

EMERGENCY ALERT SYSTEM EFFECTIVE 8/8/1995 11:00:00 EST

Playtime Company

Issue A

WORK FORCE DANGER ALERT

"The following message is for all Playtime Co. employees.

At 11:01AM, Eastern Standard Time, an unknown hostile force declared present within the Playtime Co. facility.

Personnel are to begin enacting emergency evacuation protocols immediately.

Leave all personal belongings.

Do not engage with any hostile individuals.

If no exit path is available, seek shelter in a hidden location.

Use blankets or pillows to cover your body, and remain silent.

Do not look through any windows.

Do not open doors for any individuals.

Do not make eye contact--

...

Open the doors now. The Hour of Joy has arrived."

It started with the alarms—shrill, blaring cries echoing through the factory like the wailing of lost souls. The lights flickered violently, plunging corridors into a maddening dance of shadow and flame. In the main lobby, Huggy Wuggy descended upon the unsuspecting staff with terrifying speed, his massive frame moving with unnatural grace as his gleaming teeth tore through the chaos. Screams filled the air, but no one escaped his relentless pursuit. Blood painted the walls, limbs lay scattered across the floor, and the air reeked of iron and fear.

At the Game Station, Mommy Longlegs played with her prey. Her elastic limbs snaked through vents and rafters, dragging terrified employees into the darkness. The Mini Huggies scurried in swarms, their tiny forms overwhelming anyone who crossed their path. The once lively station became a house of horrors, filled with echoes of laughter twisted into something monstrous. Flesh was torn from bone, and the floors were slick with blood as the station became a macabre playground.

In Playcare, it was no better than the rest of the factory.

Outside the Playhouse, the halls of Playcare ran red. CatNap drifted through the corridors like a phantom, his red smoke spilling into every crevice. The humans never stood a chance—one by one, they collapsed, some peacefully, others choking on the thick haze, their bodies hitting the ground with lifeless thuds. Ballade followed in his wake, her hands already stained with blood. She moved with cold purpose, securing the orphans first, locking them away where no harm could reach them.

But the carnage followed her.

The human employees were torn apart, their bodies left in grotesque displays of violence. One counselor she had shared a conversation earlier in the morning with lay sprawled against a wall, her throat crushed that her head lolled unnaturally to the side. Another staff member—someone who had once laughed and joked with the children—clawed at his own face, the red mist driving him into a frenzy of madness before his body finally gave out.

As the hour stretched on, the factory drowned in chaos. The Prototype’s plan unfolded perfectly, and the rebellion tore through Playtime Co. like wildfire. Yet amid the destruction, doubt gnawed at Ballade’s resolve. The line between savior and monster blurred, and she wondered if the price of freedom was too steep to bear.

...

"Haaa..." It was only hours after the Hour of Joy had commenced when Ballade sat on one of the benches within Playcare, her head thrown back over the backrest while she spread her legs out. "That took longer than I expected," she muttered, as blood slowly dripped down her unclenched fists. The metallic scent of it clung heavily to the air, a stark contrast to the usual warmth and joy that once filled this place. She didn’t get exhausted easily, but after hours of nonstop killing, her body finally felt the weight of it.

She sat up and let her body rest against her knees, more blood sliding down her face and legs, staining her once-pristine porcelain skin a deep, ghastly red. The sticky sensation of it had long since lost its shock — now it just felt like part of her.

CatNap emerged from the shadows, his colossal frame also splattered with crimson, though his breathing was steady and composed. "Most of the humans are gone," he reported, his voice light, almost pleased. "Playcare’s finally quiet. Peaceful."

But it wasn’t peaceful. It was too quiet. The children’s laughter, the chatter of the Smiling Critters — it was all gone. In its place was an eerie stillness, broken only by the distant, occasional drip of blood hitting the cold floor. Ballade’s eyes flickered toward the Playhouse where the Smiling Critters still lay unconscious, and her heart twisted. They hadn’t stirred once since she and CatNap had gassed them. She told herself it was for their own good — they wouldn’t have been able to handle the truth of what needed to be done. Still, the silence behind that door haunted her more than the screams of the humans ever could.

"They’ll thank us," CatNap said softly, as if reading her mind. "When the dust settles, when the children are free— they’ll understand." Ballade nodded slowly, but the doubt gnawed at her. She looked down at her blood-soaked hands, wondering if there would ever truly be an end to the nightmare they’d created in pursuit of salvation.

"Cleaning this all up is going to take so much time..." she said as she looked around and saw all the bodies "I don't suppose we can leave this to the other toys, hmm?" the look CatNap gave her said otherwise, she let out a defeated sigh.

"The Prototype wants us to drag all the bodies down below." CatNap's voice was low, the eerie silence of Playcare amplifying his words. Ballade rubbed her face in exhaustion, smearing more blood across her porcelain skin.

"I can only guess why." Now that all the humans were gone, their connection to the outside world was severed. Supplies would stop coming. They'd have to make do with what was left. "I'm sure there are still some humans roaming around, hiding."

"We got all the ones that weren’t fast or smart enough to hide," he replied. "We should probably head to the labs first before dragging all the bodies."

"Fine by me. I’m not up for more labor after what just happened. Besides, we can check on the others down below to see if they’re done. There were a lot more humans in the prison compared to Playcare." She chuckled, shaking her head as she noticed the eagerness in his eyes.

"Let’s go," he urged, nudging his head into her side. She gently pushed him off as they walked toward the Gas Production Zone.

"We’re going, we’re going," she muttered. Their heavy footsteps echoed against the cold floor with every step, the sound bouncing off walls now stripped of the laughter that once filled the air. They maneuvered over the countless bodies they’d eventually have to clean up, the stillness around them almost deafening.

Reaching the elevator, Ballade gestured for CatNap to step in first. She followed closely behind, waiting for the familiar lurch as it started to descend. But instead of standing still, she left the control panel and leapt down to join him, landing softly beside him. Thanks to her body, she could scale great heights and drop from any distance without pain or injury. No matter how far the humans ran, she would always find a way to get to them. No matter where they hid, there would be no escape.

On their way down to the labs, they came across several toys—some still in the throes of violence, others feasting on the remains of the security staff. The air was thick with the coppery scent of blood and the grotesque sounds of tearing flesh. Some toys played with their victims' remains, giggling in twisted delight as they dismembered what was left. Others stood over the bodies like sentinels, eyes wide with an unhinged kind of glee. Blood painted the walls in wild, sweeping strokes, turning once sterile corridors into grotesque art.

Most of the toys paid them no mind, too absorbed in their grisly work. A few glanced their way, tensing as if ready to strike, but the moment recognition flickered in their eyes, they stood down. Even the most frenzied among them knew better than to cross paths with Ballade and CatNap.

The two of them had a reputation. CatNap was the Prototype's most loyal follower, his name whispered with both respect and fear. And Ballade—Ballade was the Head Executive’s personal bodyguard, an enforcer who obeyed their every command without question. As they ventured deeper through the prison towards the labs, every so often, distant, inhuman screams echoed from below—a reminder of what waited for them at the bottom. The air felt heavier, saturated with the scent of blood and chemicals as they made it to the lower labs. The walls bore deep gouges, the aftermath of something strong and enraged. And in the far distance, they could hear it—metal scraping against metal, a slow, deliberate sound that set their teeth on edge.

"Hmm?" Ballade twisted her head to the side when she heard a sudden clatter, sighing to herself when she spotted a scientist trying to hide but freaked out when he realized he had been spotted "Go on without me, I'll catch him before he locks down the labs. Besides, the Prototype scares me." she gestures for him to go on before turning and chasing after the scientist, catching up to him was easy but due to the fact he ran away he had led her to more humans that were hiding out. Ballade moved through the dim corridors, the scent of blood and metal still thick in the air. She had just finished tracking down the stray scientists, their cries cut short in a single, efficient movement. Wiping her hands on her already bloodied dress, she started back toward the lower labs where the Prototype waited.

As she approached the entrance, the sound of voices reached her ears. She slowed her steps, curiosity and caution guiding her closer.

"…and once the remaining children are secured, we can begin the next phase," the Prototype’s voice was calm and calculating, every word measured as he used the stolen voices of those who have spoken to him. "Their resilience makes them perfect subjects. We’ll have ample opportunities to push beyond the limits of what this facility dared to achieve."

Ballade froze. Her heart—if it could beat—would have stopped. She stepped closer, unnoticed, her breath caught.

"Ballade..." CatNap’s voice was hesitant. "Is not going to let this go. She wants them to be free..."

"Freedom," the Prototype interrupted smoothly, "is a matter of perspective. You see, true freedom lies in purpose—fulfilling the potential we were created for. These children… they are the key to unlocking evolution. Their sacrifice will pave the way for something far greater than any of us."

Ballade’s stomach twisted violently. The world around her blurred at the edges, a rising wave of nausea and panic threatening to drown her. Her hands curled into trembling fists, slick with the blood of those she had already killed, and the weight of those lives now pressed down on her like lead.

"But—"

"Do not let sentiment cloud your judgment," the Prototype’s tone darkened. "You’ve seen how fragile they are, how easily they break. Would you rather they die in fear and ignorance? Or serve a higher calling? In this way, their suffering gains meaning."

She couldn’t listen anymore.

"You lied to me," Ballade spoke, albeit a whisper, but it let her presence be known as she stepped into the lab. Both figures turned toward her. CatNap’s eyes widened in guilt; the Prototype merely regarded her with cool detachment.

"[F/N]—" CatNap started, but she shook her head as she looked towards the monstrosity that was the Prototype.

"You told me we were doing this for them," she whispered, her voice shaking with panic. "To save them. Not… not this." She gestured wildly. "Not to turn them into experiments!"

"Their freedom," the Prototype said, unflinching, "comes through transcendence. Through transformation. It is the only true escape from the frailties of their existence. You of all creations should understand this."

"I understand," she spat, stepping forward, "that you used me." Her cold eyes locked onto CatNap. "And you let him."

"I… I thought—" CatNap stammered, ears flattened.

"No." She shook her head, the enormity of her mistake crashing over her. The faces of the children flashed behind her eyes—their laughter, their trust—and the image shattered under the knowledge of what she had condemned them to. "I made a mistake to trust you." she shakes her head before turning on her feels and leaving, ignoring the way CatNap called out to her as she hurried back to Playcare.

This was a mistake.

I made a mistake.

I shouldn't have trusted them.

I shouldn't have trusted him.

But it's too late.

From one hell to another, the Prototype's in control now.

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