Your annoying yet insanely loveable boyfriend Eddie Munson who laughs loud as hell. He rarely giggles. There's ALWAYS intention to be heard in that loud ass laugh of his.
He's also very obnoxious with his body language when he laughs. He's probably wacked your arm and pushed you over a few times by accident. He says sorry then ends up laughing again and you're on your ass again.
Then, when you ask him what he's laughing at, it's the most miniscule fucking thing ever. You're sitting there like 😐 and he's still fucking laughing.
inspired by: “hii id love to see something where schlatt forgets to mute? maybe he's streaming or on the phone with friends and she's under the desk, or theyre about to sleep on call because they're long distance and reader hears him moaning or something”
from lila: working on bettering my mental health, hence the breaks from writing but i hope you like this one!
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
schlatt had been unknowingly teasing you all day. he wore an outfit that makes you drool, was extra touchy while you were out running errands, and even paid for lunch.
almost like he was giving you a reason to fuck him today.
he had mentioned that he was going to be streaming and would be occupied for a while so you decided to give him a little boost of energy before the stream started.
when you opened the door to his office, he was fiddling around at his desk in preparation.
“hey, sweetheart! what’s up?” he jeered at the sight of you.
“nothin’…just wanted to say thanks for today, you’ve been great,” you say, draping an arm around his broad shoulders.
he looks up at you as you stand next to him in his chair. his arm reaches to cradle your waist.
“s’no problem. jus’ tryin’ to keep to you happy,” he smiles.
your hand on his shoulders creeps up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, one of his sensitive spots.
he tried but failed to suppress his satisfied hum.
“i was wondering if i could repay your kindness?” you asked, lighting raking your nails against his scalp.
“mmm…how would you do that?” he mumbles.
“scoot back,” you demand.
he pushes himself away from the desk, allowing you to place yourself on your knees between his thighs.
you waste no time palming at the slight tent in his sweatpants.
“you’re joking. right now?” he asks.
“how much time until your stream is supposed to start?” you asked.
he stares down at you as he guesstimates 10 minutes.
“i only need two,” you smirk.
your palming becomes more deliberate, feeling his length grow through the fabric.
schlatt’s head leans back on his chair, eyes fluttering shut.
you drag the waistband of his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to spring free, slapping against his stomach.
you begin your kitten licks at the underside of his shaft. that always makes him squirm.
you hear his breath hitch when your mouth makes contact.
you switch to pressing open mouth kisses from his base up to his tip.
his hand grips at your hair to end your teasing.
“c’mon, please,” he whispers.
your tongue swirls around his tip which elicits a deep groan from schlatt’s chest.
you decide to be nice and sink your throat down onto his length.
the trick to getting schlatt to finish early is a combination of deep throating and a tight grip of your hand behind your mouth.
your hand twists up and down to keep the pleasure shooting through his dick.
he hips buck up into your mouth, shoving the head of his cock further down your throat.
schlatt’s deep voice creates the sweetest moans, slipping past his lips and bouncing off the walls of his office.
your movements speed up until you feel his cock twitch in your mouth.
his hand pushes you slightly further down him, his tip hitting the back of your throat.
when you gag, the feeling of your warm throat spasming around him is enough to push him over the edge.
his cum coats the inside of your mouth as he groans your name, body curling over you and holding you still on his lap.
he eventually peels you off him once he’s overstimulated.
you see the sweat slightly doting his forehead and wipe it away with the back of your hand.
“thank you,” he pants.
“it’s what you get for being so good to me!”
he pulls his pants back over himself and looks at the countdown on his screen.
“i’ve gotta get started soon…” he says.
you smile and kiss him on the cheek
“have a good stream, hun,” you say before you leave.
schlatt supresses a chuckle before getting his headphones on and beginning his stream.
“hey guys, how’s it going tonight?”
justmoney420: dude…
patheticgirl143: did we really just hear all that
_redbone: he pulls
“what do you mean?”
gghollanov: ikyfl
happy_happy: make sure ur mic is muted next time dude
“oh fuck…”
schlatt buries his head in his hands to hide the instant blush blooming across his cheeks.
“my bad guys, as you can imagine- wait don’t imagine, well i guess you don’t really need to…i was kinda occupied,”
Sergeant!Johnny "Soap" MacTavish rushes home for a birthday fuck with his secret girlfriend!reader but task force!141 end up catching catch him in the act. | ANONYMOUS REQUEST FILL
It was rare to see Johnny "Soap" MacTavish move with that kind of focus when he wasn’t breaching a door or under fire. But today was different—his birthday, for one. And he had a very good reason to leg it home before anyone could rope him into a round at the pub.
You’d promised him a “fun night in,” said it in that teasing way that had him grinning like an idiot through the whole bloody debrief. He’d been counting down the hours since wheels down, half-listening to Price talk while mentally peeling you out of whatever you said you’d be wearing.
He was halfway out of his kit before he even hit the barracks, muttering something about “needing to sort somethin’ back home.”
“Sort what, your laundry?” Gaz had called after him.
Johnny just grinned, already backing toward the exit. “Somethin’ like that, mate.”
Price frowned over his tea. “He’s never that quick to bugger off after training.”
Ghost grunted. “Aye. Probably a date with his mirror.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Gaz said, shaking his head. “He’s his own biggest fan, that one.”
But the hours ticked on, and the lads got restless. When the bottle came out, someone—maybe Gaz, maybe Price—suggested swinging by Johnny’s flat to drag him out for a proper birthday pint.
By the time they reached his building, night had set in. The street was quiet, save for the hum of the city and the clinking of the six-pack in Gaz’s hand.
Price rapped on the door. No answer.
“Maybe he’s not in,” Gaz offered.
“Window’s open,” Ghost noted, eyes narrowing at the soft glow spilling from inside. They exchanged a look.
Ghost leaned closer, listening. “You hear that?”
Gaz tilted his head. “Is that… a fuckin’ porno?”
It wasn’t.
For a moment, they all just stood there, trying to place the sound—rhythmic, low, and muffled.
Then came a groan.
Then another sound.
Price’s brow furrowed. “Bloody hell, he’s not—”
Ghost’s head snapped up. “Sounds like he’s celebratin’ just fine.”
And then—clear as day—your breathy voice broke through the quiet: “Johnny, I’m gunna—gunna cum—” followed by a low moan. The rest of the sentence drowned under the creak of the bed frame and a noise none of them could mistake. Skin slapping, wet and lewd, followed by a crack of Soap’s hand on your ass.
Gaz froze. “No way.”
Price took a slow sip from his flask. “Well, that explains why the man was in a hurry.”
For a beat, the three of them stood there—half stunned, half amused. Then Price huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he set the six-pack down by the door.
“Let the lad have his birthday,” he muttered.
Gaz grinned. “Did you know he was seein’ someone?”
Ghost gave a low grunt. “If I did, I’d’ve told her to run.”
That earned a laugh from all three as they started back down the walkway, the muffled sounds from the flat still echoing faintly behind them.
Price adjusted his cap. “Remind me to ask him about it tomorrow.”
Gaz snorted. “You think he’ll admit it?”
“Not a chance,” Price said. “But I reckon the look on his face’ll be worth it.”
A/N: This was so fun and cheeky! Thanks to the anon who requested. Keep em coming! PS: First Soap Fic!
simon watches your knees knock back and forth where you sit on the ground. your head is between johnny’s thighs, neck resting against the couch cushion where he sits.
his hands are weaving through your hair, pulling loose braids together and letting them unravel over and over again.
you’re in a dreamlike state, barely there. your eyes fluttering closed as your vision tickles with the promise of sleep.
simon pangs with something unusual, something straying from his typical state of pure contentment when he’s with you and johnny.
he’s almost jealous of how blissed out johnny is making you feel. like he’s missing out on some unspoken connection that’s leaving him behind.
“johnny?”
he hums. your ears perk up, but your eyes remain closed.
“can you—can you teach me how to do tha?”
johnny seems genuinely shocked. “what? how to braid?”
simon nods, confirming. and suddenly feeling a bit self conscious.
johnny teaches him three different types of braids, even though he only really manages one successfully. johnny’s favorite kind is some sort of scottish braid that involves four sections of hair instead of three and, is overall, way too complicated.
at one point, simon winces, thinking maybe he’d pulled too hard. he waits for you to scold him, but he’s only met with silence.
“is she asleep?” simon asks johnny softly.
“affirm, sir.”
simon never knew he could be so gentle. he keeps braiding your hair and watching it unfurl as the tv drones in the background.
Can't stop thinking about Soap in a rut, trying to control himself as you ride him, you pinning his arms down ( as if you could over power him ). To the point where he is so sensitive and you are just slowly teasing his length in and out, and then he looses control. Hands bruisingly gripping your waist as he pushes you down balls deep, over, and over again. Desperate for a release, he doesn't realise just how rough he's pounding your cervix, how you've become his little fucktoy. How he's effortlessly bouncing you up and down on his cock, holding you to his hips as he fills you up. You collapse on top of him, musclar arms enclosing you, after a few minutes you gain the energy to speak,
" Hey I thought we said I was gonna be in control for once, huh ",
You hear him faintly laugh as he brings his hand towards your neck, tilting your head up to meet him,
" No lassy I let you think you're in control ",
When in reality Soap's just a downbad, horndog, who cant resist the feeling of a tight cunt and a pretty woman on top of him. Nothing to do with control, but more so he just needs to fill you up good...
Summary: TF141 haunts your new apartment, how will you react to their presence?
Word count: 3K
Warnings: paranormal activity, ghost being scary by accident.
Masterlist ->
Note: kinda random but it was fun to write :)
The feeling inside your new apartment wasn't exacty unsettling, it was just more of a...lingering energy that you can't quite pinpoint. Sitting there, in the dark when you're watching tv on the couch, or when you are at your desk working in your room, or simply laying down to go to bed. Its always there. You caught yourself turning your head towards a empty corner in the room, expecting someone to be standing there, only to find it empty. There was four specific feelings you'd get when you were home. All of them being slightly different, but just as intense, you've never felt anything like it before.
Its been two weeks since you moved into the apartment. You haven't noticed anything super out of the ordinary, other then the immediate change in the air when you stepped through the threshold every day. And how you always felt like someone was watching you from over your shoulder. You learned from the owner that the building was built on top of a torn down military base, which made you question in your mind if the building was potentially haunted, and thats why you felt the way you did. But there wasn't enough evidence to prove that theory correct, so you let the thought of ghosts and ghouls fade to the back of your mind while life caught up to you.
"Mmm" you softly groan, slowly waking up from your sleep. You shift under the covers, pulling them up to your chin when you feel how cold it was in the room. You stare up at the ceiling for a moment, thinking about how you have to work in the morning as you take in the darkness of the room. Its unbearably cold. Right as you were about to get up out of bed to turn the air conditioning down, you hear a small consistent tapping sound.
You look to the side of the room in question, confused on what could be making such a noise. When it stops. After a moment of silence, you assume it was nothing, so you sit up and swing your legs off the side of the bed. Suddenly, a stack of books crashes to the ground, startling you at the loud sound it produced. The silence was deafening as you looked into the darkness where the books were littered on the floor. Hesitantly, you flick on the lamp next to your bed, the room lights up in a warm glow.
You huff, irritated at the scare it caused. You stand and walk over to the books. Crouching down to pick them up. When a soft sound of a voice is spoken distantly behind you
"fuckin idiot"
It startles you more then the books falling did. You shoot up from your crouched position and whip around to face the direction you heard the deep voice in. The voice was so quiet you almost thought you imagined it. Especially when you find no one in the room with you. You simply stand there for a moment, trying to figure out what just happened. Until you shake your head and rub your eyes with your hand, you need to go back to bed.
Walking out of your bedroom, you make your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Chugging it and putting the glass in the sink. As you set the glass in the sink you hear a faint chatter.
"they heard you-"
Only catching small bits of it. But quickly passing it off as your next door neighbor having the tv on. For your own sake. Before walking into your room where the lamp still is lighting up the room. Getting into bed, ignoring the scattered books on the ground, you switch off the lamp and turn over in the covers. Ignoring whatever the fuck just happened because you have to work in five hours.
You also ignored how the next morning, the once scattered books were now neatly put back in their rightful place.
~♡~
A week later. After thinking alot about that night, you decided to just let it go. You will never know if what you heard was real or not, so why get caught up on it. You sigh, setting down your bag on the kitchen counter. It had been a long day, your bones ached as they longed for a steamy shower. Leaving your bag on the counter, you head towards your bathroom.
Closing the door behind you, you begin to lift your shirt. But right as you do, the bathroom lights flicker aggressively, Making you stop in your tracks. Pausing, you now hear heavy footsteps outside of the bathroom door walking away, like someone was being dragged away. two muffled voices are heard through the door. Both sounding male, one being gruff and stern, while the other one has a giddy undertone to his voice. Its hard to make anything out due to how fast the moment went by. But it scared the daylights out of you.
You freeze, staring at the closed bathroom door in awe. Its now quiet, like you imagined it. But you know what you heard. Hesitantly, you take quiet steps towards the door, before cracking it open. Half expecting two fully grown men to be on the other side. But you find absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Peaking your head out of the door, taking a look into the hallway, before letting out a shaky breath and closing the door.
You stand there for awhile, not sure if you should take a shower anymore. But you decided you had to wash the day away. You lock the door for safe measures before getting undressed and stepping into the shower.
As you stood under the pouring water, you could once again hear from somewhere in your apartment the faint chatter of whatever was out there.
"You scared em-"
You sigh, knowing not to pass that off as your neighbor's tv this time. Without a doubt, this building is definitely haunted.
~♡~
A few days later, you couldn't get the interactions out of your head. It whirls around in your mind non stop. You've come to the conclusion that your apartment is haunted, as crazy as that sounds. You feel insane even considering that, but all evidence points to that. After doing some research online about some personal experiences with ghosts being in their homes, you now feel curious and slightly frightened by the new knowledge that your place is potentially haunted.
You haven't felt a single bad energy since you've been living here. the internet says that means its a good spirit and doesn't intend to harm you, and the internet is always right! You run your hand down your face in exasperation as you close your laptop, shutting off the blinding light as you rub your eyes to fully adjust to the dark kitchen. The light above the stove being the only light source, as it had gotten dark a few hours prior.
Running your hands up your arms, the coldness of the room sinks into you as you look around the kitchen. Now thinking about how ghosts could be potentially watching you right now. The thought sends a chill down your spine. You shake your head with a slight laugh at how ridiculous you sound, you are going insane. You get up from your seat and grab a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water before taking a sip. You shake your head again at your previous thoughts of ghosts. Before turning around to begin the walk back to your room.
When a large dark figure looming in the doorway of the kitchen stops you dead in your tracks. Fear hits you in your chest hard as you stare at the 6'4 figure. The glass in your hands slips from your grasp and hits the floor, shattering across the floor. But you don't care as you continue to be frozen. He simply stands there, staring back at you. In full military gear and a skull mask covering his face. He looks like death itself.
A moment passes of deafening silence, before a gentle hand caress your shoulder in a caring way. Making you whip around quickly, to find no one there. Turning back towards the figure, you find he is no longer there. Letting out a sharp breath, it feels like you took a breath for the first time in multiple minutes. You unfreeze as you look down to the shattered glass on the floor, then back up the where the man once was.
"Fuck this" you quickly make your way to the front door, grabbing your keys from the glass bowl by the door, grabbing your shoes and jacket, before exiting the apartment. You rush down the stairwell and walk to your car in the dark. Theres no way in hell you are staying here tonight.
~♡~
Later that day. You finally gain the courage to go back to your apartment. After hyping yourself up, you finally open the front door, finding it in silence. Like there wasn't multiple presences looming near the door, sitting in shame as they wait for you to get back. You couldn't see the way their heads peak up in interest when you step through the door.
Closing the door behind you, you take in the room. Letting the sounds speak for themselves. Only to find it incredibly quiet. You sigh out in relief as you walk through the house, wishing to find comfort in being home again. Taking a peak in the kitchen, you notice how theres not a single shard of glass on the floor.
A few hours later, you sit down on your bed. Freshly out of the shower and in your pjs. Having the time to think about what had happened over and over again, you realised the things that reside here didn't make you feel like they would hurt you. Not once was there a feeling of evil or malice. The realization makes you question if maybe that ghost really didn't mean to fighten you.
You brush off the thought, You just want to go to bed and call it a night. You hesitate for awhile before turning off the side lamp, hoping there would be no more scares for tonight.
While drifting to sleep, you remain a tiny amount of consciousness as the world fades to dreams. Through your foggy mind, you can make out multiple male voices. Along with a gentle touch once again running across your arm.
"You scared the absolutely shite out of the poor lass" his Scottish accent is very prominent as he talks. Before another voice chips in "I didn't mean to" his british voice is deep as it rumbles through his chest, it sounds slightly guilty as he sighs. The scott chuckles "why did they have to see you first of all people. Id shite myself as well" Another male speaks, he sounds very close to you, you assume he's the one caressing your arm "well they know we are here for sure now" his voice lowers as he turns his head towards your face, taking in your sleeping form with a soft expression "we need to back off for awhile" he says.
Making the Scottish man scoff "then stop touching them" it makes the other man glare at him "then stop trying to knock shit over to get their attention" the scott has a offended look on his face before pointing to skull masked figure in the corner "then tell Simon to stop hovering behind them like a dog every second" Simon's eyebrows frown as he lifts his arms in confusion, why is he getting slander all the sudden?
"Can all three of you shut the hell up" a fourth voice speaks up for the first time "they are trying to sleep" footsteps are heard coming closer to the bed. Even through the haze you could feel how intense his energy is as he stands over you. Mumbling is heard through out the room "sorry cap" the so called caption sighs as he gazes down at you. Soundly sleeping "sweet thing" he mumbles under his breath before turning to the other men "everyone out" footsteps shuffle out the room, along with a small protest from the scott.
You now fully drift to sleep as you continue to hear footsteps throughout your home.
~♡~
Thinking about the voices you heard last night, you weren't gullible enough to pass them off as a dream. Especially after all the things that happened before hand. You lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling once again, sunlight beams through the curtains into your bedroom. Making the room glow. You sit up, its your day off. You stretch your arms out with a small groan.
You couldn't get the mystery men's conversation out of your head. The things that you know is that there is four of them, one of them is named Simon, and one of them is a captain. A likely guess is that they are military. Due to the tactical gear the figure from the other night was wearing, the captain title, and the history of the building. You can't believe you heard all four of their voices crystal clear. Its unbelievable. But unmistakable.
Pulling the covers back, your feet sink to the floor as you stand. Before walking to your bedroom door. Making your way down the hallway, you hear shuffling coming from the kitchen, making you pause. You feel weirdly calm, you can't find it in you to care anymore. You knew they were there, and they haven't hurt you yet. So why let fear take over your life? Sighing, you continue your way down the hallway to reach the kitchen.
When entering the kitchen, you immediately spot the four fully visible men in tactical gear standing casually in your kitchen like they belonged there. A man with a mowhawk causally greets you "morning bonnie!" As he sits on top of your counter, glancing at you but not paying to much mind to you. The darker skinned man who is leaning against fridge greets you as well "Hello" he says politely as he offers you a sweet smile, until it drops suddenly as he takes you in. Noticing how you arent looking through him, but looking directly at him with shock on your face.
"Cap..." he mumbles, eyes still locked on yours. A older man who supposedly is the captain, raises his head to look at him "yeah?" He glances your way with a small smile as a form of acknowledgement, even tho he thinks you can't see him. Before looking back "what do you need?" The silence makes him raise a eyebrow, before realising the way gaz was looking at you. He turns to look at you, taking in the way you glance between the two, frozen in place. "Oh boy..." price mumbles out. Knowing the damage this might cause.
You let your eyes wonder to the man with a mowhawk, who hasn't caught on to the situation at hand. he swings his feet absentmindedly as he looks lost in thought.
You turn your attention to the other man in the room. To find him already looking at you through the skull mask that covers his face. You slightly tense up at the sight of him, he was the figure you saw in the kitchen the other day. Hes stands tall in the corner, looking just as terrifying as before, but now his energy feels almost small. Like he was purposely trying to make himself seem smaller then his large self.
"Darling?" The soft voice of the captain breaks you away from the eye contact. You look towards him, finding him taking steady steps towards you with his hands out, as to not spook a small animal. "You okay?" He questions. As if this situation was perfectly normal. The man with the mowhawk attention is now on you, theres a look of hopefulness on his face as he hops down from the counter.
You don't respond, simply taking them in. The captain reaches you, standing tall as he tries to grab hold of the situation. "Sweetheart?" That snaps you out of your frozen state. Slightly shaking your head away from the shock, before looking at him in the eyes and asking "are you a ghost?" You don't know why you asked that, but I mean what else are you gonna ask. Theres a pause, before a loud cackle is heard through the room from behind him. Price chuckles at the innocent question, he glances back at ghost, finding him adjusting his tactical vest unnecessarily due to you unknowingly saying his call sign.
Price turns back to you "Well... I suppose so? Yes" he answers with a soft smile. The man with a mowhawk shoves his captain out of the way to stand in front of you "'ello lass! Names Johnny" he introduces himself like he wasn't a full on ghost standing in your kitchen "ive been absolutely beggin to talk to you since you got 'ere" he expresses loudly, making gaz pull him back from you by the shoulder "alright calm down johnny" he has a small smile on his face.
This is absolutely bizarre. You have to be dreaming right now. From the corner of the room, Simon can sense how overstimulated you are from the four men, making him stalk closer to where you stand. He towers over you as he closes in, making you slightly shrink into yourself on instinct. "They need time to process us" he states. Making the other men go quiet, knowing hes right. Crowding isnt a great idea. Johnny's shoulders slump in disappointment. Simon looks at you, making eye contact "we'll be here dove" and with a blink of a eye, they are gone.
You blink rapidly, they vanished from sight within a second. Leaving you alone in the kitchen like they were never there in the first place.
Johnny Soap Mactavish who swats your hand away from your pussy as you try to save any form of dignity that you still might have.
“Dont cover her up, Bonnie.”
His thumb spams the camera button, taking sloppy shots of what you imagine to be an even sloppier pussy after how desperate youve become.
“Cant we just do it normally? Why do you always gotta take pictures?” You fight the urge to ruin his shots, knowing youd only prolong his little photo shoot if you impeded.
He snaps a few more, fingers scissoring you open to catch the puffy and cute pink of your obscene hole before tossing the phone aside. “Needae restock before the next mission. You know I can’t be without this cutie for too long,” he says as his fingers curl nastily into you, pulling out a high pitched mewl.
You don’t know why you had asked. You knew had the sex drive of a rabbit in heat and he made sure you were aware of it, sending you pictures of cum dribbling down his shaft and fist after pumping himself to his favorite photo album that hes so carefully curated (with your help of course).
Now Johnny is a generous man- so much in fact that when he sees his poor teammates suffering with the same pent up frustration that he once had, he has the brilliant idea to share the wealth. It’s not uncommon for 2 or 3 men to huddle around his phone, eyes glued onto the way your pussy stretches to accommodate three of soaps fingers as he scoops out his cum lodged deep inside you.
And if the mission extends for longer than most, soap will receive a surprise video of you lamely humping his pillow with his name on your tongue. Your soft and delicate voice contrasts with the filthy pool of arousal that soaks the pillow. That video is on repeat till every man’s dick is limp.
He was sure you wouldn’t mind. You were an empathetic gal at the end of the day and he knew youd feel for his fellow mates.
Summary: Sebastian fucks reader and then fucks with grell
🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛
(Name)s home never saw sunlight, heavy curtains and his room resided in the master bedroom, a luxury bed carved of an extinct wood and a canopy that shrouded him in mystery as he slept, usually in the nude as he couldn't be fucked to care about human customs or their fear of exposure.
It was mid afternoon, (name) dead asleep in his bed when Sebastian entered the home and his eyes adjusted to the fact there was no light as he stepped in, pitch black to catch anyone foolish off guard. Feet silent and eyes sharp, the demon walked to the omega's bedroom and the smell of heat was heavy and potent much to the alphas delight and when he entered the room, he was pleased to see (name) exposed and ready for him.
The smell of slick was heavy as Sebastian moved the canopy curtain to look at him with bright glowing eyes and removed his gloves to properly touch the Omega.
It wasn't easy to find a mate with demons, Sebastian was initially looking for a good fuck but this Omega was feisty and unlike other demons he wasn't a threat comparatively.
Demons were rarely Omega or beta and when they were they were needy and codependent to Alpha but halflings? They had that human rage and independence that made Sebastian intrigued... Not to mention the Omega was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, absolutely perfect in every way. His finger gently drew an invisible line down the other's spine and was pleased at the small sound he made before his lips followed the line upwards to kiss at his shoulder blades, stripping his clothes in the process.
His touches were gentle yet deliberate without any hesitation, hands stroking the others waist and his fat cock between the others ass cheek knowing he could go without prep due to the demons blood... From the smell his demon parent must have been an incubus.
Then (name)s eyes snapped out, no longer (color) but a soft red tint to it as he flipped the Alpha and face in the alphas neck, licking a stripe up his neck while humping him slowly with little noises and hums as his fangs penetrated the others skin, the taste of blood making (name) melt into his hold and thankfully there wasn't really a need to stop, Sebastian getting painfully hard as two fingers shoved their way into (name) ass, causing (name) to pull off with bloodied lips and blown out eyes to hump into the others fingers. His nails clawed into Sebastian's skin and legs shook while Sebastian fucked his long fingers into his prostate without any remorse, trying to get the Omega to cum... He wanted to see his pretty bloody face as he climaxed.
The omegas hips chased against the alphas fingers, humping into their thrusts with a breathless smile and it didn't take long till he came to Sebastian's hands.
“Starving...” He babbled and moved to bite at Sebastian's wrist with a moan, shaking in pleasure as he got his fill “greedy thing...” Sebastian's voice echoed through the room and (name) pulled off with a distant expression, already looking a little fucked out.
Sebastian was pleased with the choice of mate, so perfect and breedable during heats and independent out of it.
He could smell the fertility on him, kissing up his cool neck while his cock prodded his entrance a few times, the fat head kissing and just pushing into him before he pushed in slowly, inch by inch he got to see (name) choke on his own moan, falling forward and clinging to the sheets while Sebastian began thrusting. His hands were strong on the others hips, his mushroom tip pressing against the other's prostate and his girth stretched (name) out so nicely.
He just let himself be fucked, eyes rolling back while Sebastians hand moved to wrap around his neck and pulling him to press against his chest, manhandling him into a kiss and his tongue grew longer to fully take control of the other, other hand tugging at (name)s left nipple a bit before moving down to toy with the vampires cock, it wasn't as big as Sebastian's but it was still a quite pretty appendage that fit nicely in his hand. The thrusts matched the demon's hand movements, (name) nipping at his lips to taste more blood.
It was the best flavor, he couldn't describe it but it was an alcoholic sweet almost but there was a flavor he couldn't figure out. “Distracted already? My I suppose I'm not satisfying you enough” he seemed almost disappointed before pushing him against the bed ass up and slamming his hips into the other and raising his right hand to slap down on the omega's ass, his knot slowly catching on his rim while (name)s prostate was practically crushed and he could barely keep it together when Sebastian licked his mating gland and bit down, his knot catching and locking into the Omega who came helplessly. He felt so full... Cum spurting into and out of him and feeling the alphas venom in his skin made his brain melt a little.
The bedding was bloodied and cum stained when Sebastian cleaned up (name), meticulous with his work while dipping the cloth in the wash basin and once (name) was clean he lifted him and brought him to a spare bed, staring at him intently before cleaning up their mess, changing the sheets and getting fresh air in as (name) was safely tucked away from the light.
He took every precaution to make sure nothing could hurt his omega who was sleeping peacefully in the other room, the demon practically a shadow before looking around and deeming it safe.
Sebastian returned at nightfall, (name) asleep still as he was nocturnal.
The Alpha lifted him up into his arms, a blanket wrapped around his naked body for privacy and turned to jump out the window, taking him back to the manor where he could keep an eye on him and attend to the house.
And then his routine for the next week was fucking his mate pregnant, attending to whatever nonsense Ciel needed done, making sure the staff didn't burn the building and dealing with “SEBASTIAN ~” the Alpha dodged the redheads advances and glared, his mating bite concealed skillfully “please do mind your manners when in these walls” he said simply before walking off to go feed his mate who had decided his closet was the safest place to sleep, making a nest inside it and Sebastian blocked out all light on the space, neither needing actual light to see so it was pitch black once the door closed.
“Don't ignore me, sebby!” Grell whined and Sebastian walked to his room, opening it to see a well dressed vampire adjusting his tie “hm? Did you bring me a meal, beloved?” (Name) asked with a tinge of boredom, scanning the redhead with disinterest “don't know how much I could get from a reaper... But it will do”
“Beloved?!” grell looked aghast, simply horrified at the nickname and (name) glanced to his mate “this ones loud, why?”
“They were baked wrong” Sebastian said with a slight tease in his voice and (name) hummed “quite rude to bring a half cooked meal to your pregnant mate, do you not agree Sebastian?” Grell was foaming at the mouth while the vampire raised an eyebrow “darling, you look phenomenal in red but... Maybe cut back on the Rouge” and with that (name) walked out of the bedroom, the small room in the stone basement away from any light.
“Pregnant?! What do you mean pregnant?! Are you cheating on me?!” Grell was losing it at this point and Sebastian just kept pace with his mate, the two following human protocol of PDA and kept a respectful two inches from one another “I called a few of my contacts, they should have the item by morning-- though do be careful because there's only three in existence and I refuse to give mine up from incompetence”
“Of course my love” he two blatantly ignored the reaper who pulled out their chainsaw and went to strike the person who in grells eyes stole their man only for Sebastian to kick it away, (name) not even blinking “I have been alive for seven hundred years, try harder”
(Name) Couldn't go too far, the daylight being a sign off for death but he did learn about the basement quite a bit before sundown, curious at the white haired naked dog man chewing a stuffed doll while staring at a child “so you're my new employee?”
“Child, I don't work for you” (name) said simply “he” pointing to Sebastian “gives me money to find antiques and the likes, I am under no employment to anyone” not even Sebastian could control him, the Alpha knew the vampire was not to be fucked with but he hoped deep down the Omega would learn to be more relaxed with them.
Then Sebastian could take him to his world or they could reside in the middle of nowhere... Sebastian stealing souls and (name) feasting on his blood.
“Well, what could you possibly find me?”
“You will have to see, no?”
Ciel didn't know what to do with the vampire, the omega looked inviting and safe but Ceil could sense the waves of power off him, someone to not be fucked with ever.
It wasn't until Ciel went to bed that Sebastian cornered (name) with a hand on his belly “are you?”
“Perhaps, maybe I just wanted to keep you on your toes... We will have to wait”
i read ur op jealous hcs and they were so cute ! i also saw that you mentioned your inbox was open, so can i request zoro x reader who’s the completely opposite of him? reader who’s sweet and kind to everyone, and very gentle unlike their mosshead bf.. i love him lol
𝓞𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓
𓏵 ﹒ ┈ warnings : pure fluff, gender isn't mentioned. I realized I have a lot Sanji and Zoro request 😭😭 anyw req open I changed few things｡— ◟ 𖦹
The sun was setting low on the horizon, casting warm light across the deck of the Thousand Sunny like it was made of gold. The ocean stretched out endlessly, a sparkling blue as the ship drifted smoothly over the waves. You were sitting on the railing, your outline lit up by the fading light, your fingers busy making a crown out of flowers. Each petal brought a splash of color—soft pinks, creamy whites, and bright yellows—showing off your easy-going vibe and the simple happiness you found in little things.
Zoro was standing across the deck, looking like a statue made of stone as he pumped some weights with serious determination. His brow was furrowed, jaw tight, and his green hair—which everyone joked looked like messy moss—was shining with sweat under the setting sun. He was the definition of strength and toughness, rarely saying much and showing even less weakness. But every now and then, his sharp eyes would wander over to you, pulled in by the warmth of your presence.
You two were totally different. While you were all about warmth and sunshine, he had this tough vibe that felt shady and intense. Your kindness shone like a beacon, making people feel good, while Zoro’s rough edge seemed to push folks away. Still, there was this cool connection between you that neither of you could fully put into words, but you both respected it a lot.
“Oi,” he said, his voice deep and rough as he walked up to you, a towel tossed over his shoulder. “What’s up? Just hanging out here alone?”
You turned to him, your smile as radiant as daylight. In your hands, you held the finished flower crown, its delicate magnificence a stark contrast to the man before you. “I made this for you,” you told, your voice a melody that seemed to soften even the edges of his hardened demeanor
Zoro’s brow arched, his expression a mix of skepticism and amusement. “Flowers? Seriously?”
You laughed, the sound like wind chimes dancing in a gentle breeze. Rising to your feet, you placed the crown atop his head, your fingers brushing lightly against his green hair. “There,” you declared, your tone teasing yet tender. “Now you look like a silly warrior ruler.”
A faint blush crept across his cheeks, and he reached up to remove the crown, but your hand caught his wrist, stopping him. “Leave it on,” you pleaded, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just for a little while, Please?”
He hesitated, his hand hovering in the air, before he let out a resigned sigh. “Fine,” he grumbled, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward ever so slightly. “But if anyone sees me like this, I’m blaming thus on you.”
Your heart swelled with affection, and you leaned up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Zoro,” you murmured, your voice warm filled gratitude. “You’re the best.”
He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath, but the faint blush that wiped his cheeks betrayed his true feelings. Beneath his gruff exterior, Zoro sheltered a deep appreciation for your gentle nature, even if he would never admit it aloud.
As the crew began to gather for dinner, the deck came alive with the sounds of laughter and camaraderie. Luffy’s wild voice echoed across the ship as he demanded more meat, while Sanji moved with practiced grace, setting the table with his usual flair. Nami and Robin conversed in calm tones, their laughter like music, while Usopp and Chopper animatedly recited one of their many adventures.
Zoro glanced at you, his expression softening in a way that was reserved only for you. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go eat before Luffy devours everything.”
You nodded, slipping your hand into his, your fingers intertwining as if they were always meant to fit together. “Okay,” you smiled, your smile as bright as the stars beginning to appear in the night sky. “But you’re keeping the flower crown on, right?” You grinned.
He rolled his eyes at you, but the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his actual feelings. “Yeah, yeah,” he stated, his tone gruff but affectionate. “Whatever makes you happy.”
After that, the two of you joined the rest of the crew, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment settle over you like a warm blanket. Despite your differences, you and Zoro were a perfect match—a symphony of opposites that created a harmony all your own. And in that moment, you knew that your gentle heart and his rugged soul were forever intertwined
“Why? Does it bother you?” He asks with a large grin on his face.
Your cheeks pinken and you avert your eyes back out to the sea. “No… Not—it’s not like that…” You breathe, feeling your heart rate pick up as Luffy laughs and passes behind you.
“Sanji! I’m hungry!” Luffy yells, stretching his arm across the length of the ship and catapulting himself to the kitchen.
You put your face in your hands and groan, “Why do I have to be this way…”
Zoro
“I’m not looking at you.” Zoro grunts and crosses his arms over his chest.
You furrow your brows and study him for a moment, before looking behind yourself. “There’s no one else back there…” You say, pointing to the empty deck behind you.
Zoro shrugs and scratches the back of his neck while looking off to the side—you swear his cheeks turn pink, but you could just be making it up—”Didn’t say I was looking back there either…” He says.
You frown, feeling confused—if he wasn't looking at you, or behind you, then where…
Zoro brushes past you suddenly.
You blink and spin around to see him trudging down the hall. Your heart drops into your stomach and as he disappears from view, you slide down the wall with your hands in your face. “I’m such an idiot…”
Sanji
“I can’t take my eyes off you—” Sanji swoons, holding out a drink towards you.
Your cheeks burn and you scratch the back of your neck anxiously as you take the drink. “Thank you Sanji…” You say, feeling flustered.
“Anything for you my sweet.” Sanji twirls around and starts off back towards the kitchen—only to get pummeled by Luffy, who had been looking for the cook.
“Sanji! I’m hungry!” Luffy whines, pouting at Sanji—who’s griping about Luffy learning manners.
You watch them disappear into the kitchen before looking down at the drink Sanji made you. He’d made a heart with the cherry syrup—your heart thunders against your ribs and your whole face burns. You smile, feeling slightly delirious from how much you adored the cook.
Ace
Ace’s cheeks bloom red, but he grins brightly despite it. “That’s impossible.” He says.
You can't stop the blood rushing to your own face. “Shut up dork.” You huff, pushing his face away from yours.
Ace laughs and pushes you back, getting your arm off his eyes. “It’s your fault, If you weren’t so cute, I wouldn't have this problem.” He teases.
Your face burns darker and your heart skips a beat. “We should call you cheese ball instead of fire fist.” You stick your tongue out just to hear Ace laugh again.
Law
Law’s cheeks color pink and he squints at you. “How would you like me to look at you?” He asks, snapping his book closed and crossing one leg over the other.
Your cheeks flair and you swallow, suddenly feeling nervous under his heady gaze. “Uh… You know…” You begin, voice shaky.
Law’s dark eyes track the bob in your throat, before slowly dragging back up to meet your gaze, “Well?”
Your heart beat thunders in your ears and all of your blood rushes to your face—you slap your hand over the lower half of your face, before taking off in the direction of the bathroom as your nose starts to bleed. “Seas, I'm pathetic…” You whine, pinching your nose shut.
I'm the one that requested the most recent sanji x reader fic
Could you do Whitebeard (if you dont want to, then zoro) comforting male reader after a bad dream where they lose Whitebeard (or zoro)
If you do named anons, can i be sleepy anon
Zoro X M!Reader ☁️
honestly can’t write for whitebeard’s personality well so I’ll have to do Zoro (I’m so sorry!)
Also, named anons r so fun <3 you can totally b sleepy anon
——————————————————————————
Contents:
-Nightmare :(
-reader referred to as “Y/N”
-Zoro desperately trying to comfort someone even tho he himself has NEVER been comforted
-S H O R T
-written with pre-time skip Zoro in mind
——————————————————————————
Y/N was never one to have nightmares. That was, until Zoro was brutally injured during a fight. Ever since then, he has been like a watchdog to Zoro; asking if he’s doing okay and if his injuries are healing well. All of his worrying led to him eventually having a nightmare. It felt so real: Zoro getting impaled, blood spilling out from him; Y/N calling out frantically for Chopper; Zoro dying rather quickly due to blood loss… Y/N was awakened by Zoro himself, shaking his shoulder. “Hey, you alright?” He asked as soon as Y/N was conscious enough to respond. Y/N nodded, his eyes out of focus and blurry. He looked at Zoro through tears, eventually asking, “Are you alive..?” Through a choked sob. Zoro sighed, sitting down next to Y/N, “I am.” Y/N smiled, “Good- good.” Zoro placed a hand over Y/N’s, not looking at him. “Go back to bed.” He mumbled. Y/N squeezed Zoro’s hand before he could pull away. “I am.”
thinking about Zoro with that androgynous male partner again, reader/“you” has hair in this bc i have long hair and im feeling soft over the idea of zoro putting the effort into brushing it for me, i think it’s friendly for all hair types but please lmk if you feel differently :) | 2nd POV | male reader
Specifically thinking about how the longer you’re around, the harder Sanji finds it to respect the two of you.
It annoys him that Zoro puts so little effort into his own hygiene but takes the time to brush through your hair and care for it in the exact way you like it. The way Zoro saves up to spend his extra berries on your favorite hair products, actually being able to pick them out by himself. The way he carries around hair ties if you use them, huffing and making a fuss if one of the girls asks to borrow one, because they’re for you not them! Honestly Sanji just doesn’t understand how someone as wonderful and attractive as you can find Zoro appealing even if he makes some effort to care for you.
Especially when you take the time and effort to massage Zoro after his workouts. The way your hands run along Zoro’s muscles until he lays boneless. Using the nice smelling oils you like on Zoro, which Sanji feels is a total waste on Zoro since he won’t appreciate the smell. Especially because Sanji has noticed Zoro doesn’t even appreciate your messages and he usually falls asleep during them. Sanji feels Zoro wouldn’t even know the difference if you rubbed him down with cooking oils instead of your beloved oils.
Between you and me, Zoro definitely notices that you use your favorite oils on him. It's half the reason he doesn’t try to argue when you lay him down for a massage, smelling like you is among his favorite things. He likes to think it’s your subtle way of staking your claim on him, and if he’s being totally honest, he really likes that idea. And the kisses you leave behind don’t hurt either…
Sanji is battling with his bisexuality heterosexuality rn, forgive him loves, only tagged with zoro bc its zorocentric even if sanji is supposed to be crushing in this (or not up to you enjoy how you want)
I had a random thought about a reader who's a fellow human, like Kris. They have their own 'player/soul', but the reader uses theirs to do their bidding. Basically, the reader tells their heart to do things such as pulling pranks, being an informant to the best of its ability, making birdly jump from a cliff, etc.
I haven't played in a hot minute, so forgive me if I get things mixed up. Since in one of the chapters, the soul follows Susie and shit so theoretically the soul can 'impose' influence over monsters.
Kris isn’t looking forward to their birthday.
You know this, and you also know better than to make it loud.
Sometimes love looks like secrets kept, pancakes shared, and a gift chosen with care.
Word Count: 4,160
Kris was already having a rough day at school. Susie hadn’t bothered showing up, and you had decided to actually pay attention in class today, so there was little room for distraction.
That, plus Jockington ad libbing for Alphys’s teaching, Berdly’s interjections every few minutes and Temmie continuously pulling eggs out from Angel knows where… Let’s just say Kris was very overwhelmed, their head was pounding, all the voices seemed to blur together.
So when the final bell rang and signaled the end of the day, they grabbed their stuff to turn to you to ask if you wanted to come over and work on homework together.
But, you were out of your seat and out of the room before the words could even form on Kris’s lips. They sighed, irritated with the day and followed you out into the hall, watching you slip into their mother’s classroom.
Kris grabbed their bag from their locker, shoving their stuff into it messily before following you down the hall, dragging their feet.
As they approach the open classroom door, they catch the bare end of what you’re saying to their mom.
“Just please don’t say anything to Kris,” you say quietly.
Kris’s brow furrows.
Now you’re keeping secrets too? It seemed like this day was just getting worse and worse…
You slip back into the hallway after talking to Ms. Toriel, eyes landing on Kris.
“Oh, ready to leave Kris?”
They don’t respond immediately, still debating on whether or not to ask you to come over.
“…Yeah,” they say finally. “Wanna come over?”
Your eyes light up. “Yeah,” you say with a smile, hooking your arm through theirs. “Let’s go.”
As the two of you make your way through town, you talk quietly.
“Your birthday is getting close,” you note. “Are you excited?”
Kris simply shrugs in response, not in a talking mood. Plus all they can think about is whatever you’re keeping from them.
They’re barely paying attention to where you’re dragging them, just assuming that they’ll make it back to their house eventually.
Should they ask?
Would you tell if they did?
Did they even want to find out?
They sigh again, the weight of the day heavy on their shoulders.
When the two of you finally reach Kris’s house, you walk inside and set your bags down.
You automatically pull out some of the homework and make your way over to the kitchen table, but Kris pauses in the living room, immediately tossing themself face down on the couch.
“C’mon Kris, we’ve got work to do,” you say, walking over and tugging on their arm.
They groan softly as you pull, dragging themself up. All they want to do right now is lay in their bed and listen to music with you.
But no, homework first.
You always insisted on homework first because the few times Kris and you decided to wait until later, it was always way later. Like, you had to go home and go to sleep later. And the homework wouldn’t get done.
Begrudgingly, Kris pulls themself up from the couch, following you to the table.
They take a seat, their posture just as wrecked as usual, while you sit up straight.
You began writing on your page, mentioning something about how easy the work should be since you paid attention and Kris got to work on their own.
After a few minutes, you flip your page over to the other side and Kris has written a single answer.
Without a word, they pull themself out of their chair.
“Hm?” you hum, glancing up at them.
“I…” they shake their head, “don’t want to do homework right now.”
You blink. “Oh. Is everything ok?”
They think for a moment. Really think about asking you about earlier.
Instead, they nod.
“Fine,” they say.
But they can tell you notice the way their jaw clenches slightly.
Silently, the two of you put away your things.
You walk over to the fridge, opening the door, thinking maybe some pie might put Kris in a better mood, only to find the pie tin empty.
“Ate it all,” Kris says from the stairs.
“Of course you did,” you say with a small smile, closing the fridge door and following them upstairs.
In Kris’s room, they do exactly as they did entering the house and throw themself onto the bed, taking in the scent of their clean sheets which had been changed the night before.
You stare at them quietly, brow furrowed in concern, but you say nothing.
You sigh softly, pulling off your hoodie and tossing it on the end of the bed.
Kris rolls over, watching you as your eyes scan their side of the room.
“Looking for something?” they ask, though they know you’re not. Kris barely has any belongings.
You shake your head, meeting their pretty red eyes again.
“…Right,” they murmur, their hair falling to the side, obscuring one of their eyes.
You walk over to the bed, taking a seat beside them, leaning back against the headboard.
Kris settles back beside you. Usually the two of you are close enough that your shoulders touch, but right now there’s a noticeable distance. Kris’s eyes stay locked on the ceiling.
“So I was thinking,” you say, picking at the hem of your sleeve, “what did you want to do for your birthday?”
After a moment of silence they respond. “I don’t know. Whatever.” Their tone is indifferent, borderline dismissive. “It’s not like it’ll be any different from any other day.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s your birthday, Kris, of course it’s different.”
They glance at you briefly before looking away. “You don’t need to make a big deal out of it, it’s fine.” They pull their phone out of their pocket and begin scrolling mindlessly.
Eventually Ms. Toriel arrives home. She makes dinner and calls you and Kris downstairs to eat.
You follow Kris downstairs, the aroma of something baking hitting you immediately. Toriel is bustling around the kitchen, humming softly as she pulls trays from the oven.
“Dinner will be ready shortly,” Toriel says, wiping her hands on a towel. “But first, tell me about your day! School can be… exhaustion, yes?”
“Uh… yeah, kind of,” you murmur, glancing at Kris, who’s hovering near the fridge, hand shoved in their pockets.
Toriel tilts her head, ears flicking slightly. “Kind of? Just ‘kind of’? Were you perhaps… learning something exciting? Or did something frustrating occur?”
You blink. “Kind of both,” you settle on saying with a nervous laugh. “It was… a lot.”
Kris mutters something under their breath that sounds suspiciously like “obviously.”
Toriel chuckles warmly. “I see. And… did you eat lunch? I hope so. Nutrition is very important for growing minds.”
“Yes I… I did,” you say quickly. “I mean, mostly.
Kris raises their eyebrow, scanning you silently. Their quiet judgment is somehow worse than any question.
“And what about friends?” Toriel continues, placing a plate on the table. “Do you enjoy spending time together? Learning together?”
You choke on your words a little, staring at the plate. “Uh… yeah? We… hang out sometimes. Group projects, you know?”
Kris shoots you a look that could freeze water. You meet it with an awkward smile.
Toriel hums, clearly pleased with your effort. “Good! Very good. I am glad you are… well, comfortable with each other.” She glances at Kris. “Ans you, Kris. Did you have a productive day?
“Mm,” Kris mumbled, lowering their gaze to their plate. Their fork twirls lazily in the air.
Toriel smiles knowingly. “I see. Perhaps you’ll explain more as we eat. You must be hungry!”
Dinner proceeds in a comfortable rhythm: small bites, quiet conversation, the occasional overly curious question from Toriel about school or homework, each of your replies a little clumsy, each of Kris’s reactions silent but expressive. A slight pause here, a twitch there. Kris says more with their body than their words.
By the time the last bite is eaten, the plates cleared, and Toriel humming softly while stacking them, it feels like the day has gently been untangled.
“I think… I should probably head home,” you say, standing carefully.
Kris nods, quiet as always, falling in step beside you as you head to the door.
Toriel waves warmly. “You are always welcome here! Come again soon!”
You wave back, smiling, feeling lighter than you have all day. Kris is beside you, shoulders slightly more relaxed, even if only a fraction.
Out on the porch, you and Kris stand in silence for a moment, eyes on the setting sun.
“Hey, Kris?” you say softly.
“Yeah?”
“I’m serious about your birthday. Just let me know and we can do anything you want. Even if we do just end up spending it like any other day…”
Kris doesn’t respond. They don’t have to. You know they heard you and that’s enough.
“See you tomorrow, ok?” you say, nudging their shoulder with yours.
The rest of the night was quiet. You arrived home and took a shower, finished your homework, texted Kris to remind them to do the same, and read for a while before bed.
You glanced over at the large box in the corner of your room, wrapped neatly in birthday wrapping paper and a comically small bow. You think back to Kris’s odd behavior today. Of course, you knew they’d been listening, you were sure they’d overheard the end of your conversation with Toriel. But you also knew they weren’t going to bring it up. The guilt was eating at you a bit, but what else were you supposed to do? Tell them your secret?
You decided to go to sleep, hoping the guilt would fade in the next few days.
Meanwhile, back at the Dreemurr home, Kris was spiraling silently in their room. They tried to think of all the possibilities of what you could be keeping from them.
They lay on their bed staring at the ceiling, phone forgotten in their hand, the faint glow of the screen dimming as minutes passed. Their thoughts wouldn’t slow, no matter how hard they tried to make them.
Don’t say anything to Kris.
The words looped over and over, crawling under their skin.
They turned onto their side, burying their face in the pillow. It still faintly smelled like you, your shampoo, your detergent, something warm and familiar. That almost made it worse.
What could it be?
A surprise party? Kris hoped not, they couldn’t stand being the center of attention.
Kris squeezed their eyes shut. Birthdays had always been… complicated. Expectations. Smiles they had to remember to wear. People asking what they wanted, what they planned to do, what they were excited for. As if excitement was something you could just turn on.
And now you were involved too.
They rolled onto their back again, hand dragging down their face. You’d been acting normal. Too normal. Gentle. Careful. Like you were handling something fragile.
Like them.
Kris hated that feeling. Hated the idea of people whispering around them, planning things for them, deciding what was best without asking.
But they also knew you.
You weren’t cruel. You weren’t careless. If you were keeping something from them, it wasn’t to hurt them.
The thought settles uncomfortably in their chest.
With a quiet sigh, Kris pushed themself upright and reached for their phone, thumb hovering over your contact. They considered typing something, anything. A joke. A complaint about homework. A blunt, what did you walk to my mom about?
They deleted the blank text box without sending a word.
They pulled the blanket up to their chin, and finally set an alarm for the morning. As the room darkened and the house settled into quiet, one thought lingered longer than the rest:
If you were planning something… at least you cared enough to try.
And somehow, that was both comforting and terrifying.
The next few days passed slowly. School, homework, sleep, repeat, until the weekend arrived.
The morning of Kris’s birthday was here and you stood on the porch with the huge box. You’d called the Dreemurr house before leaving to let Toriel know you were on the way. She confirmed that Kris was still asleep and the pancakes were ready.
You knocked softly on the door and moments later Toriel opens the door, offering to help you carry the box in.
“It’s ok, it’s not very heavy,” you say quietly, carrying the box in.
“If you’d like, you can hide it behind my chair, though I do not know if it will be tall enough to cover the whole thing,” Toriel suggests.
You slide the box across the floor, careful not to rip the wrapping paper and hide it behind the chair. Toriel was right about the height, the top of the box is still visible, tiny bow and all.
“Maybe… they won’t notice,” you say with a small smile. “Oh, I really hope they like it.”
“They’ll love it,” Toriel says with a kind smile.
The smell of pancakes lingers warmly in the air, maple and butter and the ever lingering scent of butterscotch and cinnamon.
“Kris has not stirred once,” Toriel says softly, lowering her voice instinctively. “I believe they stayed up later than they intended.”
You smile, just a little. “That tracks.”
Toriel chuckles under her breath. “You may go up whenever you are ready. I will… keep busy down here.” She gives you a small wink before turning back towards the kitchen.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, slipping off your shoes and padding toward the stairs.
Each step feels heavier than the last. Not because of nerves exactly, more like anticipation. You pause outside Kris’s door, hand hovering just inches from the wood.
You knock softly.
No response.
You try again, even quieter, before gently pushing the door open and peeking inside.
Kris is still asleep, curled slightly on their side, blanket pulled up to their chest. Their hair is a mess, falling into their face in uneven strands, their expression relaxed in a way you don’t get to see very often. The room is dim, curtains only half-open, morning light spilling across the floor.
You step inside and close the door behind you, careful not to make a sound.
For a moment you just stand there, watching them breathe.
Then softly, so softly, you say, “Hey… wake up sleepyhead.”
Kris stirs, brow furrowing faintly.
You move closer sitting down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. “Happy birthday,” you add gently, voice warm and unhurried.
They make a quiet noise in response, something halfway between a hum and a groan, shifting onto their back. One hand comes up to rub at their eyes, lashes fluttering as they blink against the light.
“...You’re here,” they murmured, voice thick with sleep.
“Yeah,” you say, smiling. “I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”
Kris turns their head slightly toward you, eyes still half-lidded. For a few seconds, they just look at you, like they’re trying to orient themself. Time, place, day.
Then it clicks.
Their birthday.
The secret.
The careful way you’d been acting all week.
Their chest tightens just a little.
They sit up slowly, pulling the blanket into their lap, shoulders tensing before they even realize they’re doing it. You notice, of course, you always do. But you don’t say anything yet. You just stay where you are, close but not crowding.
“Did I… sleep in?” Kris asks quietly.
“A little,” you admit. “Your mom made pancakes. She said you earned it.”
Kris huffs a small breath that might almost be a laugh. Almost.
“...Ok,” they say after a moment, gaze drifting towards the floor. They don’t ask anything else. They don’t mention the conversation they overheard, or the feeling that’s been sitting in their chest for days.
But the anxiety lingers there, subtle and unspoken, as real as the morning light creeping across the room.
You shift slightly on the bed, close enough now that your knee brushes theirs. “We don’t have to do anything big today,” you say gently, like you’re offering an out before they even ask for one. “Just… whatever feels right.”
Kris swallows, nodding once.
“Ok,” they repeat, softer this time.
You stand first, smoothing your hands over your jeans.
“I;m gonna go downstairs,” you say softly. “Before your mom starts wondering if I kidnapped you.”
Kris snorts despite themself, pushing the blankets aside and swinging their legs over the edge of the bed. “Yeah. Ok.”
You slip out into the hallways, footsteps light on the stairs. A moment later, Kris follows, hair still messy, hoodie pulled on halfway, shoulders hunched in that familiar way that means they’re awake but not ready.
The kitchen is warm when you step inside.
Toriel is at the stove, humming to herself as she flips pancakes with practiced ease. She looks over her shoulder and smiles brightly when she sees the two of you.
“Ah! Good morning, birthday child,” she says, voice cheerful but not too loud.
You take a seat at the table.
Kris mumbles something that might be “hi,” sliding into the chair across from you.
Toriel sets a plate in front of each of you, pancakes stacked neatly, steam rising into the air. “Eat while they are warm,” she insists, pouring syrup with care. “It is important to start birthdays with a proper breakfast.”
Kris pokes at their food before taking a bite. You do the same, the two of you eating in a comfortable, sleepy rhythm.
“So,” Toriel says after a moment, resting her paws on the counter. “Have either of you thought about what today might hold?”
Kris’s shoulder tense just slightly.
“I was thinking,” Toriel continues, undeterred, “perhaps we could go for a walk by the river? Or visit the diner- oh! Or the library is having a small event today. There will be poetry readings.
Kris freezes mid-chew.
“...I’m good,” they say quickly, swallowing. “We don’t have to… do anything.”
Toriel hums thoughtfully. “Of course, of course. I only wished to suggest.” She glances between you and Kris, smiling. “Birthdays do not need to be loud to be meaningful.”
You offer Kris a small, reassuring look over your plate. They avoid your eyes, but the tension in their shoulders eases just a fraction.
Breakfast finishes quietly. Plates are cleared and Toriel begins washing the dishes.
You and Kris step into the living room and you glance at the top of the box peeking from over the chair, hoping Kris doesn’t notice it before you say something.
“So…” you begin, feeling nervous. “You didn’t talk about much of what you might have wanted for your birthday, but I did get you something.”
Kris looks up at you.
“And… I know you overheard me talking to your mom at the school,” you say softly. “I-I’m sorry for keeping it from you. I just didn’t want you finding out because I thought you would try to convince me not to get it.”
You step over to the chair, dragging the box from behind it.
Kris’s eyes widened. They glance between you and the box a few times.
“I promise it’s not just a smaller box inside,” you say with a small smile.
They step a little closer.
Toriel leans against the sink, watching with a smile. Anticipation and nerves build in your chest.
“I hope you like it,” you say softly.
“...Why is it so big?” they ask, voice flat, but there’s something uneasy flickering behind their eyes.
You shrug, a little sheepish. “Just open it.”
Kris hesitates, their fingers curling around the edge of the paper.
They tear a long strip of the paper off, then another until they can clearly read what the front of the box says and see the picture displayed on the front of it.
Their eyes widened again and their lips parted in shock, eyes shooting back up towards you, like their brain hadn’t quite caught up yet.
“...Is that-” their voice cuts off before the thought can finish.
You shift your weight, suddenly hyperaware of everything. The room feels too quiet. “It’s… yeah,” you say softly. “It’s a keyboard. Not… not a real piano or anything, I know.” you rub the back of your neck, words tumbling out faster now. “But I saved up over the summer. And I just- I thought maybe it’d be better than having to go all the way to Noelle’s every time you wanted to practice.
Kris doesn’t move.
They don’t speak.
They just stare.
For a moment, you worry you’ve misjudged everything. The size, the cost, the fact that you decided this for them. Your chest tightens.
“I mean- if you don’t like it, that’s ok,” you add quickly. “We can- we can return it or-”
Kris shakes their head, sharp and immediate.
“No,” they say, breath hitching. “No, I-”
Their hands tremble as they reach down, slipping under the lid of the box. They lift it slowly, carefully, like they’re afraid the whole thing might disappear if they move too fast.
Inside, nestled in foam, is the keyboard.
Real keys. Clean and untouched. Something that belongs to them.
Kris’s shoulders tense and begin to shake.
They inhale, sharply, like they’ve forgotten how to breathe properly.
Their eyes burn, glassy and they blink hard, jaw clenched tight as if that alone might keep everything from spilling over.
“Oh,” they whisper.
It’s barely a sound.
You take a hesitant step closer. “Kris…?”
They press a hand over their eyes, turning away just slightly. They don’t cry, not really. But their breathing goes uneven, chest rising and falling in short, unsteady bursts.
“I-” they swallow. Try again. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to,” you say immediately. “You always light up when you play. Even when you think no one is watching.”
That does it.
Kris lets out a shaky breath that sounds dangerously close to a laugh and a sob all at once. Their hand drops to the edge of the box, fingers curling around it like an anchor.
“...Thank you,” they manage, voice rough. “I don’t- I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” you reply gently. “Just… have it. It’s yours.”
Kris nods, over and over, like they’re trying to convince themself it’s real.
Their eyes flick up to yours, red-rimmed but shining with something warm and overwhelmed and impossibly grateful.
Toriel clears her throat softly from the kitchen, eyes mostly but smiling. “I believe,” she says, voice thick with fondness, “that this may be the quietest birthday surprise I have ever witnessed.”
Kris lets out a small, breathy huff, wiping their eyes with the sleeve of their hoodie. They look back down at the keyboard, their keyboard, then up at you again.
“...Can you stay?” they ask quietly. “While I try it?”
You smile, heart full to the point it almost hurts.
“Of course.”
Kris steps toward you and pulls you into a tight hug, a rare display of affection.
“Thank you,” they whisper again, against your hair.
“You’re welcome,” you whisper back.
You and Kris haul the box up the stairs and drag it into their room. You both glance over the instructions once before deciding that they’re ultimately unhelpful. The two of you get mixed up a few times trying to get it set up, refusing to look back at the instructions, laughing quietly as you both set it up wrong.
But eventually the keyboard is set up.
Kris sits at the small bench that came with the keyboard and plays a single note before glancing back up at you.
The two of you spend the rest of Kris’s birthday together, Kris playing any song you suggest and trying to learn snippets of the ones they don’t know. At one point, they’re plastered on the floor in a fit of laughter as you try and fail to play like them.
That night, it’s decided that you’ll stay over.
Curled up in Kris’s bed with them, you talk quietly about the day.
As you talk, your eyes grow heavy. Both of you laying on your backs, shoulders touching, you whisper and laugh softly together about whatever comes to your tired minds. Finally, when one of you dozes and jolts awake when the other speaks you decide it’s time to sleep.
You pull the blanket up to your chin, turning on your side facing Kris.
“Thank you,” they say softly. “Again.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Kris,” you reply, yawning.
They don’t speak for a moment.
“I do,” they say. “You made this the first birthday in a few years worth remembering.”
“That’s good,” you say with a soft smile. “I’m glad.”
And with that, the two of you drift off to sleep, legs tangled under the blankets, resting up for the next day that would be sure to be full of music and laughter between the two of you.
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