Chapter Text
Humming a soft tune, Y/N swayed lightly as she chopped vegetables in the kitchen. The knife moved with practiced rhythm, slicing the carrot into perfect circles before she tossed them into the bubbling pot on the stove. The air was warm with the scent of simmering broth, and her cheerful humming filled the room.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of movement. Tilting her head, she smiled when she noticed a tall figure peeking from the doorway. Papyrus froze as their gazes met, letting out a startled squeak that made Y/N chuckle.
“Hey, Papy! Whatcha doing there?” she asked, turning back to the pot as she sprinkled in spices with a casual flourish.
Papyrus shuffled into the kitchen, clutching a bottle of wine. His voice was quieter than usual, almost hesitant. “Umm… just watching you cook,” he murmured, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his jacket sleeve. He moved to the counter, opened a cabinet, and retrieved a wine glass before settling onto one of the stools. The bottle lid clicked open, and he carefully poured the ruby liquid into the glass, setting it down with deliberate care.
His gaze flickered between the wine and Y/N, who remained busy at the stove, humming happily as she chopped another ingredient. Without turning, she asked, “Do you think Sans will like what I’m cooking today?”
The sudden question startled him. He nodded instinctively, though she couldn’t see it, before stammering, “O-Of course, brother will like it… he adores your cooking.” His voice trailed off, nervous eyes lingering on the wine glass.
Y/N giggled at the thought, stirring the pot with a wooden spoon. “Aww, thank you, Papyrus! Though that’s a bit hyperbolic, isn’t it?” she teased, shifting to flip something sizzling in the pan before glancing back at him.
Her eyes landed on the wine glass, head tilting curiously. “Wine? I didn’t know you started drinking wine, Papy.” The smile lingered on her lips as her gaze moved from the glass to his face.
Papyrus stiffened, then quickly lifted the glass, holding it out toward her with hesitant hands. “Uhh… It’s for you,” he admitted, voice wavering.
Y/N giggled again, resting her cheek against her palm as she leaned on the counter, eyes twinkling. “I don’t think wine before dinner is a good idea, Papy,” she said playfully, eyeing the glass in front of her.
“i-its from Sans, he said to give you… this wine because” he said looking around like searching for something before clearing his nonexistence throat looking at the floor feeling guilty “because hes gonna… be a bit late today” he said hand shaking slightly.
Y/N’s eyes widened, her hand faltering as her smile slipped. “Oh… I see,” she murmured, disappointment flickering across her face. But it didn’t linger long; her soft smile returned as she added gently, “I understand. I don’t think I must drink it now… but I’d love to save it until Sans comes home. We could share it together, like we usually do.”
She reached to set the glass down, but a sudden weight pressed against her shoulder. Startled, she looked up to find Papyrus’s panicked eyes, his forehead beaded with sweat.
“P-Please…” His voice cracked, trembling with urgency. “Sans already told me to give it to you—to make sure you drink it. If he finds out you didn’t… he’ll think you were upset with him, and… he’ll get hurt.”
Though his words carried concern, his gaze never met hers. His eyes darted anywhere else—the floor, the wall, even his own feet—but never Y/N’s.
Y/N studied his face, her stare steady. The longer she held it, the more Papyrus seemed to squirm, unease rattling through his bones. Finally, she sighed and chuckled softly. “Alright, alright. I’ll drink it—but just a couple of sips, okay? I don’t want to get drunk, especially when I need to stay sober to cook.”
She lifted the glass, took two careful sips, and set it back down on the stool. “There. Happy?” she asked, her eyes meeting his. His nervousness lingered, though thinner now, but Y/N couldn’t shake the thought: Why does he still look so guilty, even though I did what he asked? It’s for Sans… isn’t it?
“Papyrus?” she called gently, pulling him from his daze. He nodded quickly, almost too quickly.
“Thank you. I’ll… I’ll go now,” he muttered, stepping aside to leave.
“Actually…” Y/N’s voice stopped him mid-step. He froze, shoulders stiff.
“Could you lend me a hand here? It’s pretty boring cooking alone in this big kitchen.” Her tone softened, her smile warm and hopeful, her posture relaxed as she leaned into the request.
But the sight only deepened the guilt on Papyrus’s face. Y/N noticed, but chose not to mind it, her hopeful smile unwavering as she waited for his answer.
“Umm… it’s… uhh…” Papyrus stammered, her gaze pressing on him like a weight.
After a couple of seconds of staring. she giggled lightly, turning back to the stove. “Well, it’s okay if you have something else to do. I just wanted some company. it gets really lonely here, you know.” With that, she returned to her cooking, humming again as she added spices and stirred the pot.
Papyrus stared at Y/N’s back, his thoughts tangled in hesitation. Every instinct screamed at him to leave. to escape from her presence, from the room that seemed to suffocate him whenever Y/N is in. Yet the weight of her words pressed against his very soul, anchoring him in place.
His eyes flicked to the empty stool by the counter, then back to her. With a weary sigh, he dragged the chair out, the scrape of wood against tile echoing sharply in the quiet kitchen. Slowly, he lowered himself onto it.
When Y/N turned, her eyes widened in surprise, lips parting slightly. “Oh… you really want to accompany me? Thank you,” she said, her smile blooming with genuine joy. The sight made his soul clench tighter, guilt gnawing at him.
Papyrus tugged at the strings of his hoodie, pulling the hood lower to shadow his face. He didn’t want her to see the sour twist of his expression, the pity that weighed heavily in his gaze. She had already turned back to her cooking, humming softly as if nothing was wrong.
The kitchen filled with familiar sounds.
the rhythmic chopping of vegetables, the bubbling of the pot, the faint hum of electricity. Yet all of it was drowned beneath Y/N’s cheerful chatter. She spoke about her day with unshakable enthusiasm, her voice bright and alive.
Papyrus nodded occasionally, muttered vague responses, and hummed when prompted. Not because her words bored him.
never that.
but because he couldn’t truly hear them. Her days were always the same, her routines unchanging.
It wasn’t her fault. It could never be her fault.
The truth was cruel for him to know. the things she was allowed to do here were limited. Gardening, reading, sewing—quiet activities that require no company, no outside interaction. No one to talk to, no one to laugh with, except him and Sans.
And that knowledge twisted inside Papyrus like a knife.
A kind soul, trapped in this place without knowing the truth, because of Sans’s twisted version of “love.”
And Papyrus… too afraid to upset his brother, too cowardly to help her.
He had always been a coward. Always standing behind Sans, even after they escaped the Underground. Everything he did now was repayment for all the things Sans had done for him back then.
And Y/N… she seemed to love Sans so deeply. She seemed happier here than she had been outside, happier than when Papyrus first met her.
That was a good thing… right?
That was how he convinced himself every day. Because he was too much of a coward to face the truth.
The sharp tap of a spoon against his teeth jolted him back. He blinked, finding Y/N holding a spoonful of something in front of him, her brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line of concern.
“Are you okay, Papyrus? You seem… lost,” she asked softly.
“Umm… yeah, uhh… just thinking of something,” he muttered, quickly averting his gaze.
Y/N studied him, her eyes searching, as if coaxing him to share whatever weighed on his mind. But his stubborn silence held. She sighed, then offered a small, gentle smile. “Alright, if you say so.”
Her cheer returned as she lifted the spoon again, holding it out toward him with bright enthusiasm. “Here! Try this. I made a new recipe for jam! The strawberries are still fresh, and I know you like them.”
Her smile was radiant, her voice full of warmth, as she waited patiently for him to open his jaw.
Papyrus stared at the spoon, at the sweetness offered so freely. His soul clenched again, guilt twisting deeper. He parted his mouth slowly, hesitantly, and Y/N's smile grew brighter as she fed papyrus the jam.
Papyrus should have been beaming with excitement, awed by how good it tasted. The jam was sweet, with just the right touch of tartness: exactly the kind of flavour he usually adored. But no matter how carefully he tried to Savor it, the taste was drowned out by the tightness in his chest.
He forced a nod, raising his thumb in approval. Y/N’s face lit up instantly, her pride radiating as she puffed out her chest with a bright grin. “I knew you’d like it!” she said, her voice brimming with delight before turning back to the food she was preparing.
Papyrus watched her, the warmth of her joy pressing harder against the guilt inside him. The sweetness of the jam lingered faintly on his tongue, but it was nothing compared to the sour weight in his soul.
“I’m gonna use this jam for my pie!” Y/N announced suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was cheerful, her hands busy as she shaped the dough. “I’ve been craving pie really badly, so for dessert we’re having pie! How does that sound?” She turned toward Papyrus with a bright grin.
“That’s great… I guess,” he replied hesitantly, his gaze shifting from her face to the dough she was pressing into the mold.
Her smile widened at his simple answer, and she nodded with satisfaction before returning to her work. She hummed softly as she spread the jam into the crust, her movements light and rhythmic. The oven door clicked shut as she slid the pie inside, setting the timer with a cheerful hum.
“Do you know why Sans is late today? It’s unusual for him,” she asked, turning back to Papyrus.
Papyrus shifted uncomfortably, pulling out his phone and slumping into the chair. “Oh… uhh, I’m not quite sure. He mentioned something about a new guard needing extra training.” His voice trailed off as his fingers tapped quickly across the screen, trying to distract himself from the weight of the room.
A sharp gasp made him flinch. He whipped his head toward Y/N, startled by the sudden burst of excitement. Her eyes sparkled—if they were made of magic like his, they would have been glowing stars.
“New guard? So you mean there’s a new kid in the Royal Guard?” she exclaimed, stepping closer to the stool and slamming her hand down in excitement.
Papyrus nodded, and Y/N immediately bounced back, her joy spilling over into a small, delighted jump. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! That’s amazing! It’s been so long since the Royal Guard opened a vacancy!” Her voice was bubbling with energy, each word tumbling out faster than the last.
“Ask Sans how many there are! I’m gonna make cookies!” she giggled, already planning aloud. But before Papyrus could respond, she cut herself off with another burst of laughter. “Forget it! I’ll make as many as I can! If there are leftovers, Sans can share them with the other guards. Oh my lord, I’m so excited!”
Her joy filled the kitchen like sunlight, bouncing off the walls and drowning out the quiet heaviness that lingered in Papyrus’s chest. He nodded again. “That’s a good Idea,” he said, and Y/N nodded at him before turning to the food she made.
🍷~~~~~~~❤️~~~~~~~🍷
The sound of the front door opening drew Y/N’s attention. She peeked from the kitchen doorway and saw her beloved husband step inside, exhaustion etched across his face. He hung up his car keys and coat before moving further into the house.
“I’m Home,” Sans announced, his voice low but steady.
Y/N responded instantly, as though she had been waiting all evening for those words. She hurried toward him, her smile bright.
Sans raised a brow. “Why Are You Still Up, Dear?” he asked as she stopped in front of him.
“For dinner, of course!” she replied cheerfully, grabbing his gloved hand. She tugged him toward the stairs, leading him to their shared bedroom. “You change first, then come downstairs to eat!” she insisted, opening the door and giving him a playful push inside. Sans allowed it, amused by her determination.
“I’ll reheat dinner, bye-bye!” she sang as she closed the door behind him.
Sans stared at the door for a moment, sharp teeth curling into a grin. He scoffed softly, shaking his head in amusement at her attitude. “Guess She Already Drank The Wine…” A beat of silence followed. “…Good.”
It didn’t take him long to strip off his armor, placing it neatly on the stand. He changed into comfortable clothes—a long-sleeved shirt and loose pants before heading downstairs.
Y/N was waiting at the table, her smile still lingering as her hands busied themselves with knitting. When Sans entered, her attention shifted immediately to him. She set her knitting aside in the basket, her smile widening.
Sans sat across from her, his expression softening with concern. “Have You Eaten, My Dear?”
Y/N shook her head, her tone playful but earnest. “Nope! I was waiting for you so we could have dinner together. Papyrus already ate tho, he said he was tired, so He ate first.”
She scooped portions of the dishes onto Sans’s plate, sliding it toward him before serving herself. Sans smiled faintly, murmuring his thanks as she mirrored the gesture with her own plate.
“So, how was training?” Y/N asked, enthusiasm shining in her eyes.
“It Was Good. The Guard Was At Their Best Today, As Always,” Sans replied, opening his jaw to take a bite of food.
“That’s good! And OH-!” her pout returned as she stabbed lightly at her meal, “I heard there’s a new guard! Why didn’t you tell me?”
Sans raised a brow, chuckling softly. “Should I?” he teased, his tone playful.
“Yes! You should!” she insisted, nodding firmly. “If you’d told me, I could’ve already given them my welcome cookies. You know how much I love baking them!” Her giggle bubbled out as she scooped another bite into her mouth, unaware of the dark flicker in Sans’s eyesockets, jealousy glinting in his eyelights.
By the time she looked back at him, his expression had already smoothed into a smile. “How Kind Of You, My Dear. I’m Sorry For Not Telling You Sooner, Princess,” he said mockingly, bowing his head with one hand pressed against his chest where his soul rested.
Y/N’s cheeks warmed faintly, and she giggled quietly before replying with a teasing smile. “Oh my~ how can I stay angry when my knight is such a gentleman?”
The dinner flowed like a river, effortless and warm. Their chatter and playful banter filled the room, weaving comfort into the evening. Yet beneath Sans’s grin, the shadow of possessiveness lingered, unseen.
Eventually, the meal came to an end. At the sink, Y/N began washing the dishes, but Sans insisted on helping. She tried to protest, telling him she could handle it and urging him to rest, but he only shook his head, his gloved hands already reaching for the plates.
“I Already Told You About My Day, How Was Yours, Dear?” he asked, giving the wet plate to Y/N to dry with the cloth.
“Well, I made strawberry jam today! Fresh from the garden,” Y/N said brightly, her eyes sparkling. “I tried a new recipe, mixing strawberry and lemon together. And it’s sooo good! It’s a shame the pie turned out so delicious that Papyrus ate the whole thing!” She giggled, recalling the shocked look on Papyrus’s face when he realized he had devoured the entire pie without meaning to. The memory made her laugh even more, though she was happy he enjoyed it.
Sans chuckled along, finding her amusement oddly contagious.
“Well, that’s why I said he ate first,” Y/N continued, still smiling. “He was so full from the pie that he insisted on resting. He got all flustered when he realized the pie had vanished into his stomach.” Her light laughter filled the kitchen, and Sans’s grin widened as he listened.
“Well, I Can Always Taste It Another Time, Right?” Sans said, grabbing the last wet dish and drying it carefully with a cloth, his movements deliberate.
“Yup, because you already got the chef here, you know I'm gonna make it special for you tomorrow!” she said, putting away the clean plates and utensils to their place and while Sans wiped the sink clean.
“Can't Wait,” he said with a light chuckle at his wife's demeanor.
With the dishes put away, their hands intertwined as they walked upstairs toward their shared bedroom. The quiet rhythm of their steps carried them into the room, where Sans closed the door behind them with a soft click.
Y/N moved toward the bed, unaware of the figure already closing in behind her. She squeaked in surprise when his bony hand wrapped firmly around her waist, pulling her down with him as they rolled together onto the mattress. Laughter spilled between them, light and unrestrained.
“Stop doing that! you’re gonna give me a heart attack!” she said between giggles, swatting lightly at him.
Sans didn’t answer. Instead, he buried his face against the top of her head, mumbling a soft apology that melted into the warmth of the moment. His chin rested against her hair as he snuggled closer, his grin fading into quiet contentment.
He savored it. the press of her warmth against his tired bones, the gentle rhythm of her breath brushing against his mandible. It soothed him, calmed the exhaustion that clung to him after the day’s work.
He loved how close she was right now. Loved the illusion of intimacy, the comfort of her presence.
Even though deep down, he knew the feelings she gave him were not genuine.
but stars help him.
he depended to much on that.