#horrortale sans/reader

[timeofjuly]

Trick or Heat

Summary: You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, laptop in front of you and trying to get a little work done before you’re pulled away for the evening, but you’ve written and rewritten the same sentence six times now, and each rephrasing is clumsier than the last. You just can’t focus. It’s like first date jitters, maybe, if the first date in question involved an hours-long, magically fuelled sex-fest that’s been scribbled in underneath October 31st ever since the calendar was purchased. You feel hot (ha) at the very thought of it. Whether it’s a sexy hot or a nervous, sweaty hot remains to be seen.

Sans' first heat with you happens to fall on Halloween. Missing out on trick-or-treating, you find, is a worthwhile trade-off.

Notes: Merry Halloween lmao here's 5k of horrortale sans/reader porn with feelings

Tags: NSFW!!!! Smut with feelings, heat cycles, established relationship, fluff, oral sex, unrealistically enjoyable shower sex, face-sitting, multiple orgasms, size kink, reader has a vagina.

Read it on AO3 or read it below the cut!

Before moving in with your boyfriend and his brother, you didn’t use a physical calendar. You never felt the need to; your phone kept track of your various appointments and commitments and why bother pencilling in haircut at 11am when you’d get a reminder text from the salon the day before anyway?

That fast-and-loose attitude served you well when you were single, but these days, a calendar sits smack-dab in the middle of your fridge. Sans’ occupational therapist had been the one to suggest it; she’d rightly pointed out that leaving sticky notes for himself around the house isn’t a very effective memory aid, considering that he’s prone to forgetting about the notes themselves.

Sans had been less resistant to the idea than he’d been to the other mnemonics the OT had suggested, and so the refrigerator calendar had gone up. It wouldn’t be out of place in the home of a WASP mom of four; Live, Laugh, Love is proudly proclaimed in flowy script at the top of each page and the image for each month is themed in accordance of whatever holiday happens to fall in it. For March, there’d been a picture of a rabbit surrounded by colourful eggs with ‘Hoppy Easter, every bunny!’ written beneath it. For October, there’s a scowling cartoon woman, broomstick in tow, with a speech bubble saying, ‘this is my resting witch face’.

Sans, obviously, had been the one to pick it out. You’ve peeked ahead and you’re looking forward to watching him flip it over onto November tomorrow; the Thanksgiving-themed ‘Thankful, blessed, and mashed potato obsessed!’ spread will undoubtedly give him a laugh.

First, though, you need to get through tonight.

You’re not nervous, exactly, but what you’re feeling is too sharp to purely be called anticipation. The feeling flutters against your sternum, a lightness that sets your heart ticking just a little faster than normal.

You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, laptop in front of you and trying to get a little work done before you’re pulled away for the evening, but you’ve written and rewritten the same sentence six times now, and each rephrasing is clumsier than the last. You just can’t focus.

It’s like first date jitters, maybe, if the first date in question involved an hours-long, magically fuelled sex-fest that’s been scribbled in underneath October 31st ever since the calendar had been purchased.

There are four things written underneath that date. The first, in your handwriting, is Halloween! and the second, also in your handwriting, is pay power bill (shit, you better do that now).

The third, in Papyrus’ handwriting and taking up almost all of the room, is PAPYRUS’ SPECTACULAR HALLOWEEN EXTRAVAGANZA!!!

Then, written at the bottom, so small that your eyes strain to read it, is heat.

You feel hot (ha) at the very thought of it. Whether it’s a sexy hot or a nervous, sweaty hot remains to be seen.

Either way, you feel like a virgin on prom night. All of the monsters in your life – even Papyrus, mortifyingly, who is the last person you want to talk to about your sex life – has assured you that you’ve got nothing to worry about, and you’re not, not really, save some lingering concerns about your stamina and your ability to walk tomorrow.

This is just new and new things are inherently a little scary, but you’re not going to let your irrational fear of failure ruin this for you. Not today, insecurities, not today.

Papyrus left for the Halloween festivities over an hour ago and Sans is napping on the living room couch – apparently tonight’ll take a lot out of him and it’s normal for monsters to sleep more than usual in the days preceding and following a heat. For Sans, who already dozes off at the drop of a hat, this means that this is his third nap of the day.

You close your laptop with a sigh, giving up the pretence of actually getting any work done. No point bullshitting yourself for any longer.

You decide that you’re going to have a long, hot shower. There’s some personal grooming you want to do before Sans wakes up and you’ve got lingerie that you purchased for this specific occasion to change into. You don’t normally bother with frills like that - neither of you are particularly fancy people – but you feel like you should make this special.

Sans is still asleep when you creep through the living room to get to your shared bedroom, sprawled adorably across the couch. A little line of drool leaks from his slightly open mouth and the sight of it makes your chest feel all warm and soupy.

God, he’s so cute. You love seeing him like this, so unguarded and peaceful and soft.

Once in your ensuite, you strip off your clothes and turn on the shower. You test the temperature of the water with your palm. Steam is billowing in soft sheets from the water by the time that you deem it to be an acceptable heat.

You step into the shower, sighing as the heat cascades over your head. Your hair sticks in wet tendrils to your face and neck. You hope that you can get it dry before your boyfriend wakes up.

Washing your hair is always a pain, but at least it gives you something hands-on to do to distract you from the tension slowly curling in your belly.

You and Sans have had dozens of conversations about today. In the beginning, he hadn’t wanted you to be here at all, worried that he’d be too rough with you. You’d scoffed at that, certain that he’d never hurt you, even by accident, and you still stand by that sentiment but after he’d explained this heat business to you properly, you’d understood his concerns.

It still feels like a strange term to use: heat. Too animalistic. Too wild.

Neither of those words are ones you’d use to describe Sans. He’s always so careful with you, so cautious. So afraid of hurting you, or even scaring you. Even in the throes of passion, he always has a firm leash on himself, no matter how hard you try to shake it off.

The idea of him, uninhibited, unrestrained –

You press your thighs together. Shit, you’re getting ahead of yourself.

Sans has explained the biological side of it to you a few times, but so much of the explanation had ultimately boiled down to it’s just magic, babe, so you’re still not sure that you entirely get it.

You have the basics down pat, you think; some monsters go into heat roughly once every twelve months.

Why some monsters and why every twelve months, you have no idea. The fact is that Sans ticks the first box and it’s been the allotted time. Even without checking the date he can tell, apparently, when a heat is coming; his already sharp senses have grown even keener over the past week and of course there’s the sleeping. There’s been some other stuff, too; he’s been all over you for the past week, even more so than usual, bringing you blankets and food and drinks. Making sure that you’re happy and comfortable. It’s been really nice, but he’s bashful about it, so you’ve done your best to not make a big deal about it.

Thank stars you managed to convince him to let you stick around for it. It had taken a lot of cajoling and promises that you’d leave if you so much as felt uncomfortable, but you’d done it.

The only downside is that you’re missing Halloween, but whatever. You can gorge yourself on candy any day of the year. The kind of ravaging you’re expecting is well worth that sacrifice.  

You finish scrubbing shampoo into the roots of your hair, your head haloed in suds. You’ve washed the rest of your body in the time that you let the shampoo sit on your head and it’s well and truly time to wash it out. You turn the cold water tap a bit higher to temper the water a little and then close your eyes and duck your head beneath the spray.

The water feels lovely against your face, soothing the tension between your brows. Eyes still closed, you bring your hands up to your head and begin rinsing the suds from your hair, going section by section to make sure nothing stays soapy. The sounds of the shower fill your ears, raining down on your senses.

Hard phalanges scrape against your waist from behind and you gasp, eyes flying open. You’re immediately assailed by a blast of water directly to the face, a little going into your mouth but most of it mixing with the shampoo and flowing into your eyes.

“Fuck!” you hiss, vision gone blurry. The hands immediately fall from your sides.

You grope forward blindly, searching for the towel you’d slung over the shower door. The soft fabric meets your fingertips and you drag it towards you, wiping your stinging eyes.

“sorry, sorry, sorry,” a deep voice chants into your ear and the words are familiar, but the tone isn’t, filled with a new urgency. “you okay? didn’t mean to scare ya’.”

“It’s okay,” you say hurriedly, feeling awful at how torn-up about it he sounds. “It’s just soap.”

“sorry,” Sans repeats. “thought you would’ve heard the door open.”

You blink a few times until your vision clears. “Nah, I was totally spaced out.” You throw the towel back over the shower door and turn around to face him.

Sans is completely naked, the majority of the space in the large shower taken up by his bulk. How the fuck he manages to move so quietly, you’ll never understand. It probably doesn’t speak well to your situational awareness that he managed to just sneak into the shower without you realising, but that’s a worry for another time.

He’s looking at you with a concern that makes your chest hurt, his single eyelight unusually fuzzy and scanning your expression for pain or panic. There’s none to be found, of course, but you’re sure that the shampoo’s made your eyes a little red, which might be giving the wrong impression.

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching up to press your hand against his skull. He’s warm to the touch, even to your shower-flushed skin. “Everything alright with you?”

He doesn’t reply verbally, but he leans into your palm with a sigh and some of the tension fades. You let him nuzzle into your hand for a moment, enjoying the intimacy, but then you remember that you’ve got half-rinsed shampoo in your hair that you need to finish washing out; it’ll make your hair go dry if you leave it sitting for too long.

“I’ve got to finish rinsing this out,” you explain, gesturing at your sudsy head.

“can i do it?” he asks you, hands fluttering towards you. “i wanna do something for you. i wanna take care of you.”

Aw, that’s sweet. You’ve showered together before, of course, but Sans has never offered to wash your hair for you. For a moment, you wonder what’s prompted the offer, but his hands drop back to his sides – you must’ve taken too long to answer – and your eyes follow them down and land on –

Oh. Yes. Right. The heat.

Well, that makes more sense. It’s clearly started. No wonder he’s climbed into the shower with you in the nude. Hell, no wonder he wants to wash your hair; he’d warned you that he might be a little more demonstratively affectionate and attentive.

Your gaze lingers on the slate-blue erection straining towards you for only a second before it shoots back up to his face. The same blue colour lightly stains his zygomatic arches.

“Sure,” you say, voice gone a little husky. “Hold on, I’ll turn back around.”

You step back under the spray and spin around, your backside to Sans, and tip your head back so your hair is under the cascade of the showerhead, but your face stays somewhat dry.

“Go for it,” you say over the sound of the water.

Heat prickles across your scalp when sharp phalanges slip into your hair. You hum, staticky pleasure flowing from your head and down your neck. You let your eyes flutter closed. The pressure and lack of give in Sans’ bony fingers make him great at giving head massages.

He must step a little closer, because something hot and hard bumps against the small of your back. You shiver, goosebumps tingling across your skin.

It’s difficult not to relax completely into the head massage, but as nice as it feels, you realise that all of the shampoo isn’t actually being washed away. No wonder: it’s not like Sans has any hair to wash and you can’t imagine that he’d have done this for anyone else before.

“You’ve got to part it a little to get all the soap out,” you say. You tip your head a little further back and to the side to demonstrate, letting the water wash away another pocket of shampoo.

His fingers comb through your hair and then begin to wash a little more rigorously, going section-by-section. “don’t worry, babe, i’ll do a sud-sational job.”

That startles a laugh out of you. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m rooting for you.”

The remaining shampoo is soon washed away, but Sans continues with his ministrations to your scalp with one hand. The other hand drops to your hip, where he rubs little circles with his thumb into the slick flesh. You cant your hips back towards him, pressing his cock more firmly against your lower back.

The hand at your hip tightens, sending a thrill shivering through you. His hand is so big that you can feel the tips of his phalanges digging in close to where your thigh joins your pubic mound, whilst the base of his hand rests on the outer curve of your ass. The reminder of how big he is compared to you – fuck, it always gets you going.

Looks like your hair is going unconditioned today. Ah well; you’ll use a hair mask tomorrow to make up for it. You have far more pressing issues at hand.

You step back through the water – keeping your eyes firmly shut – and into Sans’ embrace, his hand dropping from your hair to curl around your torso. It wraps around your chest and settles on the curve of your breast, his fingers toying with your nipple. You can feel his cock throbbing against your back, so hard, especially considering that neither of you have touched it yet.

“This heat thing is no joke, huh?” you say.

His fingers pause on your breast – you and your big mouth. “nope. are you sure that you’re okay with this? i can stop-.”

“Absolutely, one million percent sure,” you say firmly. “Never been surer of anything in my life. I want this.”

“yeah?” his voice has gone a little shivery. You much prefer this to the worried, hesitant tone of before. “yeah, you want this? want me to make you feel good?”

The hand at your hip dips a little lower, brushing at the cleft of your pussy. It reminds you of how very badly you want to be touched there.

“Yes, please,” you say and because you know that it gets him every time you use his name, you continue, “please touch me, Sans.”

You hear him exhale shakily and then blessedly, finally, his hand slips between your thighs. You groan, head tipping back to rest against his sternum. His phalanges trace along your outer labia, using your wetness to glide against the sensitive skin, before moving inwards to slowly circle your clit.

“i'll take good care of you, i promise,” he mutters against your ear. “spread your legs a little for me, babe, that’s it.”

The words send heat spiralling in your core and pull your muscles tight. It normally takes loads of foreplay to get Sans talking like that, voice pitched even deeper with need, and even more to for him to take the lead like this.

You hurry to spread your legs, glad for his arms around you to keep you from slipping on the shower tile.

He uses the extra room between your thighs to play with your clit a little more firmly, touching you exactly the way you like. Even over the roar of the shower – which you should really turn off, neither of you are really underneath the showerhead and water isn’t cheap – you can hear how wet you are, hear how his fingers slip against you.

“Fuck, that’s good,” you sigh, feeling him gently slip a finger inside of you to gently press against your g-spot.

Your eyes had been closed but you force them open now. You want to watch.

You look down the plain of your body, taking in the hand cupping your breast, the other between your thighs. His hands look huge between your legs, bones thick and long, pleasantly textured against your skin.

“say it again,” he urges you, hands speeding up. “tell me how good i make you feel.”

“So good,” you gasp, feeling the heat tighten in your belly. “So fucking good. Please don’t stop, oh my god.”

Another finger is slid inside of you and they both tap in tandem against your g-spot whilst his thumb rubs tight circles against your clit and it only takes a few moments for the dual stimulation to build into a crescendo. You let out a strangled moan as you come, feeling yourself tremble around his fingers and letting your head thud back against his sternum.

Sans groans against the top of your head and you feel his cock pulse against your back, warmth seeping into your skin.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath and trust that your legs aren’t about to collapse underneath you.

“I like this heat thing,” you breath.

Sans huffs out a laugh behind you. “aw, you tuckered out already? told ya you should’ve napped with me before.”

You turn around to face him, pulling faux indignation to your face. “Hey, don’t count me out yet. It’ll take more than one orgasm to wear me out.”

His browbone quirks, an expression you see on him so rarely, and sweet affection rushes into your chest, overlapping with the lingering buzz of your orgasm. God, you love him so much.

“is that a challenge?” he says.

You get the feeling that you might be biting off a little more than you can chew, but you’re not backing down now. “Sure is, baby. I’ve got stamina for days. I wanna touch you first, though. I owe you one.”

His smirk gives way to bashfulness. “i – uh, no you don’t, babe. we’re both one-for-one.”

“What do you mean? I haven’t even -.” You pause, remembering how he’d ground against you as you’d come. You twist your head back to see if any evidence remains on your back, but you’ve been standing under the water, so there’s nothing, but Sans’ face says it all.  

“… holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” you say. “Bed now, please and thank you.”

The water is hastily switched off – Papyrus is going to flip his lid when he sees the water bill for October – and then you’re shrieking with delight as Sans lifts you clear off your feet and into his arms. You blink and then you’re being gently deposited into the soft sheets of your bed, still completely soaked.

Sans looms over you, knees caging your hips with his arms bracketed around your shoulders. His single eyelight huge and fuzzy. It’s trained on your face, unmoving. His ribcage heaves. Something crackles in the air around you, so palpable that even you, human and magic-less as you are, can feel it dancing across your skin.

“I think that takes the record for the shortest shortcut to date, lazybones,” you say breathlessly.

You’re expecting a clever quip in return, or perhaps a joke or a particularly horrific pun, but he just sucks in a low, unsteady breath, eyelight moving down from your face to laze down the length of your body. You can’t help it: you squirm under his discerning gaze. Your heart is racing, beating a frantic staccato beat against your ribcage and even though your skin is wet and rapidly cooling, you feel hot.

“See something you like?” You’re trying for coy and cocky, but it comes out a little strangled.

“fuck yeah,” he breathes, and then his mouth crashes onto yours.

The kiss is intense, but not as urgent as you’d expected it to be. If anything, you’re the one moving things along, wrapping your arms around his clavicles and hooking your leg around his pelvis to draw him closer. That’s one thing you’ve always loved about sex with Sans; everything is deliberate and considered, never hurried, never rushed. Apparently even heat can’t speed him up.

His tongue licks a wet stripe up the column of your throat, making you hiss. His breath comes out in hot pants against your neck and his teeth just barely scrape against your skin.

“I want to -,” you start, sliding a hand between your bodies to find his cock.

Your wrist is caught in a bony grip before you can reach far enough, and your hand is pinned above your head. His face is still buried in your chest, laving wet kisses against your collarbones and between your breasts and you can hear him mumbling, you think, whispering something against your skin.

You give a cursory tug at your wrist – you’re not interested in breaking free because this is way too fucking hot, but you want to see the reaction the token resistance gets.

Sans fucking growls against your skin and holy shit, you need him to touch you, right now.

He pulls away from your neck, leaving your chest heaving.

“sit up,” he says. “wanna eat that fucking pussy.”

Sounds good to you!

You rush to sit. You’re a little confused when he lies down in the place you just vacated but then you squeal as Sans grasps your thighs and uses his hold to abruptly flip you around and then up, towards the pillows, towards his face, hauling one of your knees over his head.

Off balance, you curl forward and brace your hands on his iliac crests, chest heaving. It’s a struggle to stay upright.

Your hips ache with the delicious stretch, knees planted firmly on either side of his skull. His phalanges dig into your ass, guiding you to press more firmly against him. You try to pull yourself a little higher to give the poor guy some breathing room but he just tugs you down even more and, to your delighted surprise, actually gives your ass a little slap.

It's barely a slap at all, really, all sound and no sting, but coming from your normally shy boyfriend, it sends new pleasure throbbing through you.

Okay, then; if he wants you to ride his face, then you’re going to ride his fucking face.

You roll your hips against him, feeling the soft slickness of his tongue and the unyielding press of bone against your sensitive flesh. You’re tentative at first, but his hands start moving in tandem with your undulations, urging you on, so you take that as a green light to speed things up.

It feels so fucking good. The wet slide of your pussy against his mouth, the way his tongue follows your motions to stimulate your clit. Your thighs tremble around his head.

God, you must be making a fucking mess of his face and just picturing it makes you clench.

You can feel your second orgasm gradually building, waves of heat pulsing in time with your hips. Then you’d be two to one, you realise. Pretty unfair, considering that he’s the one with the raging biological (magical?) need to fuck.

You’re loathe to move from your position on his face, though, so you’re gonna have to get creative.

He’s too tall for you to reach his cock with your mouth – you love the size difference ninety-nine percent of the time, but it makes certain positions impossible – but luckily, you’ve got two perfectly good hands.

He grunts against your pussy when you wrap your hand around his cock, the other still gripping his hipbone to keep yourself upright. It’s so hard, twitching in your grip, and when you trace a single finger up the underside, it drips with a bead of precum.

Trying to time your strokes with the rhythm of your hips, you touch him the way you know he likes best; slow, firm motions, lingering at the head. You’d normally use two hands for this, but you don’t trust yourself to stay seated with your core strength alone.

He seems to be enjoying himself just fine anyway; even muffled through your body, you can hear his grunts and moans. The sounds and the feel of him in your hand barrel you closer to orgasm, heat pulling tight in your belly. You’re still a little sensitive from your first orgasm but with you controlling the pace, the extra sensation only makes it better.

A particularly firm slide of his tongue against your clit pushes you over the edge and you come with a cry, grinding down onto his mouth.

You’re shaking as you slide off of his face, rolling to the side to burry your face into the pillows. Your thighs slide wetly against each other and the whole of you is singing with pleasure.

You crane your neck to look back at Sans, but he’s already grabbing your hips and hauling them upwards and backwards towards him, your ass high in the air and your face buried deep into the pillows.

You go to pull yourself up onto your elbows but then you feel his fingers carding through the sweaty hair at the back of your neck, the base of his hand ghosting along the top of your spine. It’s only the tiniest suggestion of pressure, but you get the message all the time.

You let your elbows collapse underneath you and fall back onto the bed.

A wet, toothy kiss is pressed to your hip. “so good for me,” he says.

You moan something insensible into the pillows and spread your legs a little wider. A huge hand presses between them, spreading your wetness along your thighs. Everything feels oversensitive and tingly; you’re not sure if you’ll be able to come again quickly, but you’re excited to find out.

The blunt head of his cock bumps up against your pussy, glancing away from your entrance. It rubs along your clit, slow and lazy and so fucking huge.

It can fit inside of you – mostly, anyway - but it takes hours of careful prep-work and rivers of lube good quality silicone lube, and as relaxed and ready as you’re feeling right now, trying for penetrative sex without some dedicated stretching is just a bad idea.

You press your thighs together, wedging his cock between them. The base of it is hot against your clit and the head nudges at your lower belly. His hands grip your ass and slowly, he begins moving.

The slick grind against your clit is just enough to make new arousal spiral through you. You press yourself back against him as much as you’re able – not a whole lot you can do with just your ass in the air – but you’re soon lost to the sensations.

“fuck, babe, you feel so good,” he says, hands tight around your hips. “so fuckin’ good.”

Your response is lost to the pillows. You’re drooling, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

He starts to speed up and you press your thighs together even tighter, increasing the friction on your clit. You feel – you feel fucking wild, out of control, lost to the incomprehensible magic thrumming through the air. God, you can’t believe that you were nervous about this, that you were worried that you’d fuck it up. This is perfect.

A hand grips your shoulder and tugs you upwards – you’re loving all the manhandling tonight – and you pull your hands beneath you, leaving you on all fours. Sans curls over you, ribcage pressed to your back and skull pressed to the side of your neck.

“love you, so much,” he rasps, scraping his teeth down your neck. “you’re all mine, aren’t’cha? tell me.”

“I’m all yours,” you agree. You decide to risk losing your balance and snake your hand down to touch him. “Want you to come for me, baby, make me yours.”

The combination of your words and touch makes him cry out. He throbs in your hand and thrusts harder. Such indirect stimulation wouldn’t normally be enough to get you off, but you’re so turned on that you careen over the edge anyway, tired muscles clenching around nothing. It’s the softest orgasm of the night, the least intense, but no less satisfying for it. You feel him coming too, spilling on your hand and belly.

When the orgasm fades away, it leaves bone-deep exhaustion in its wake. Your arms collapse underneath you and your bottom half soon follows suit, your shaking thighs failing to hold up your weight.

“need a break?” he asks you. You can hear the amusement in his voice and as annoyed as you are to prove him right, it makes you so happy to hear him sound so happy.

You groan in response. Speech is beyond your capacity.

It takes you a second, but eventually you unearth your face from the pillows to look at him with bleary eyes. Part of you wants to insist that you’re good to keep going, to push through the overstimulation, but your bits are starting to go numb.

“Maybe just a little one,” you concede. You roll over onto your back to face him, careful to avoid the wet patch.

He looks so pleased with himself. So satisfied.

Warm fondness unspools in your belly, bringing a flush to your cheeks that has nothing to do with physical exertion. You’re so fucking lucky.

“what’s that look for?” he asks you, tilting his head the way he always does when he’s trying to work you out and fuck, how can one person be this cute?

You resist the urge to grab him by the zygomatic arches to smoosh his face between your hands, but it’s a near thing.

“I just love you a lot,” you say. You look back down at his pelvis; no dick. Satiated for now, apparently. “Wanna have a quick nap before the next round?”

“stars, you’re perfect,” he mutters, making you grin.

“Yeah, I’m the best,” you agree. “C’mere, lazybones.”

He curls up next to you and you snuggle against his side. It’s always a bit of challenge to navigate your soft, fleshy bits with his sharp, pointy ones, but you make it work. He lets out a contented sigh as you settle in his arms, your legs thrown over his femurs.

You doze for a few minutes, soothed by the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your head.

“sorry that you’re missing Halloween,” he says. “could’ve bagged some good candy.”

“I’d take staying in with you over squeezing myself into some Party City costume to totter around the city in this freezing weather any day. Trick-or-treating is overrated,” you say. “And I’m sure Paps’ll be happy to share.”

Sans hums. “hope he brings back some of those hershey’s things.”

“Kisses, you mean?”

“well, if you’re offering.”

You sigh into his clavicle. “That was one a stretch, even for you.”

But you press a quick kiss to his teeth all the same.  

Sleep tugs at your eyelids; loathe as you are to concede defeat, you really are tuckered out. The bed is so comfortable and warm - the company’s not too bad either - and the room is perfectly dark, save the gentle shine of the glow-in-the-dark stars Sans has stuck to the roof.

“Shit.” You sit up. “Fuck, I forgot!”

“what’s wrong?” His voice is a little groggy.

“I forgot to pay the power bill.” You’re going to have to get up - and put clothes on, horror of all horrors - and go into the cold kitchen to get your laptop. “Urgh, sorry, I’ve got do it, otherwise they’ll hit us with a late fee.”

Sans tugs at your arm. “relax, babe, i already did it.”

You pause your attempts to wiggle out of his grip. “What?”

“i already paid it,” he explains. “saw that it was on the calendar. you can chill.”

“Oh, thank you, calendar,” you say.

“hey, what about me? do you doubt my cents of responsibility?”

“Thank you to you too, then. I really don’t want to get up,” you say, settling back down next to him and curving your body into his.

He huffs a laugh against the top of your head. “good, ‘cause ‘m not letting you outta this bed for the foreseeable future.”

You can only muster up a yawn in response. That sounds perfect to you.

[undertale-fluffcanons]

Ah, I'm sorry! If that's the case then just some Horror Sans comforting their S/O after a normal long stressful day, no apocalypse stuff

It's alright, anon!

*Whenever you have a stressful day, the first thing you do is look for Axe

*Even if you didn't, Axe would still have an idea of when you've had a long and stressful day

*He'll offer to talk about it if you want, since he has offered to beat up someone before and that did not work out well

*If you don't want to talk about it, he understands and won't ask about it anymore

*He will try to help by wrapping you up in a blanket or his hoodie if a blanket is unavailable at the moment

*and he'll ask if there's anything else he can do to help, since he doesn't like seeing you like this, and if you have something in mind, he'll do it for you! but only because it's you

[trashcatmonster]

title: a little snack

summary: You're going to kill your friend. When they had said they'd found a great match for you, you thought they meant someone really nice and patient, you didn't think they meant a skeleton practically the size of a mountain.

And they're not even wrong! You just can't think when he is that attractive!

notes: based on this art by @hashileio​!! the scene in the art is directly in the fic have fun getting to that point bc i sure did have literally so much fun writing this.

ao3 link: here!

fic text under read more!

You squirm awkwardly in your seat, hyper aware of the heat in your face as well as the unwavering gaze of the skeleton sitting on the other side of the table. You’re refusing to look at his face, too worried that you’ll trip over your tongue if you have to look up at him again and try to carry a conversation.

Not that any conversation is really… happening right now. You’d managed to squeak out an introduction, and he’d given you a joke you couldn’t remember the phrasing of right now but it had been funny, and you had managed a giggle in response.

But not much else has been said ! And you’re pretty sure it’s entirely because you’re too flustered by the skeleton’s sheer size (He! Dwarfs! You!) to be a very good conversationalist. You’re usually so much better at reigning yourself in, but this skeleton (who’s name you definitely remember) hasn’t once taken his single red eye light off of you and really! That is not helping your case!

“Sorry for the wait!” your waiter greets, and you jolt a little in surprise because you’d forgotten the two of you were in a restaurant.

Because your friend had set you up on a blind date. Insisting you’d love this guy and oh stars you were going to have to give them a piece of your mind after this was over!

“Have you guys figured out what you want or do you just wanna start with drinks?” your waiter continues when neither of you say anything. You clear your throat, impulsively fanning your face with your hand in a feeble attempt to cool your cheeks down.

“Um… Just a water for me, thank you,” you finally answer them, awkwardly forcing your hand back to your lap when the waiter eyes it with a raised eyebrow and an amused smile.

“Perfect, one water and…” The waiter trails off, turning to the skeleton (Who is! Your date! Oh stars.) with a patient grin.

Your date (Date! Yours!) finally, finally, turns his gaze from you to the waiter. He’s quiet for a moment, and then he speaks up with a deep rumbling voice that has your face heating up even more.

“Water for me, too.”

You feel like you’re on fire, you just know your whole face is red. Blush spreading from your neck to your ears. He hasn’t even done anything! He’s just sat there, staring at you again.

Stars you were going to have a melt down. You start fanning yourself again, but you drop your hand to the table awkwardly once you realize what you’re doing. For a second, you think the skeleton’s grin grows just slightly at your actions but you can’t really tell for sure so you just put it down to wishful thinking.

Okay, surely this date is still salvageable? You haven’t totally ruined it by being your usual, easily flustered self! Just push through, you’ll learn his name eventually! It won’t be painfully awkward and embarrassing to not remember the first thing he told you on this date while you were too busy floundering over the size of him to properly process any of the words he was saying to you.

You can’t do this. You so can’t do this, you’ve definitely already messed this up just so incredibly thoroughly!

Abruptly you stand, and the skeleton startles back in his seat, watching your movement as you flail awkwardly for something to say.

“Um! Sorry!” is all you can manage to squeak out before you’re rushing out of the building.

You don’t get very far, barely managing to get out of the building and around the corner before the massive skeleton is suddenly right there caging you in against the wall, keeping you from running further away. You jump with a squeak, staring at the skeleton with wide eyes while you press yourself back into the rough wall behind you.

“where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and stars! He is so close to you! How are you going to survive this encounter when just looking at this skeleton gets your heart beating rapidly in your chest and your face turning into an oven!

You open your mouth, trying to attempt an explanation of your kind of rude actions actually! But you’re staring at the skeleton in front of you, so you notice when his single, large eye light sweeps over you from your feet to your face a couple times before his grin definitely widens.

Stars. Fuck. You can’t do this, you can not function with literally the most attractive person you’ve ever seen blatantly checking you out after you had very rudely fled the restaurant that was the location of your blind date.

The skeleton chuckles (even his laugh is attractive! This is not fair!) and he leans forward into your space.

Your heart leaps into your throat, and you finally snap your mouth shut as you impulsively look at his teeth and wonder very briefly what a skeleton kiss would feel like.

“stars, you’re so jumpy,” the skeleton teases you, and that! Is not fair actually!

Before you can say anything in your indignation, the skeleton closes his empty socket in what you think might be a wink and continues his apparent observations of you.

“i could just eat you up.” The words are spoken in almost a purr, ringing in your ears and already looping in your mind incessantly.

That’s it. You’re done for. You can’t do this anymore! Your overheated flush somehow gets worse, and if you were in a cartoon there would be steam coming out of your ears because you have reached your limit.

Your hands come to your face, splaying over it in an effort to hide just how flustered you are. And if that wasn’t bad enough, your legs choose right then to go weak under you so with the wall as support, you slide down to the sidewalk making unintelligible noises.

There’s quiet around you for a moment, and then the skeleton above you snorts out a laugh and takes two steps away from you.

You’re expecting him to leave, finally done with tormenting you with your own attraction to him. So when you peek out from behind your hands, your surprised to see him crouched down, balancing with his feet flat on the ground in a Slav Squat, his arms resting over his knees. Your eyes trail up to his face, noting that his grin is a lot softer than it was when he’d been teasing you.

“you alright?” he asks in that deep baritone that nearly vibrates in your chest now that he’s so close to you.

You cover your face back up with whine that trails into more garbled, flustered noises. You can hear the skeleton huff a laugh, but he seems content to wait for you to regain enough composure to actually answer his question.

So you put in the effort to take in deep breaths and calm your racing heart. It’s still pounding, and you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye again because you know you’ll be right back where you started if you do.

“I’m… okay. You’re just! A very attractive skeleton! And I’m struggling very hard to cope with that!”

Your voice raises in pitch right at the end of your sentence, and you swallow hard and take a few more calming breaths.

“…heh.” Is all you hear before the skeleton is reaching forward and using his very large fingers to push your chin up and get you to meet his eye.

“don’t think i’ve ever seen someone this bent outta shape over me in a positive way, it’s pretty cute.”

You! Are suddenly very red faced again! The skeleton snickers, his thumb coming forward to just… rest against your lips and he winks at you again before tugging your bottom lip down and pulling his hand away.

“wanna come back inside? bet if you keep that breathin’ trick up we could even have a conversation.”

It is taking everything in your power to not have another flustered meltdown right now, but you nod anyway. You don’t actually want to abandon your date after all, and if he doesn’t have an issue with how much you’re struggling with coherency around him…

“Um—“ you cut yourself off, face heating up out of embarrassment when the skeleton looks down at you because he’s stood up now.

“’sup?” he asks, offering a hand towards you that you take so you can get off the sidewalk.

“What… What is your name?”

The skeleton stares at you, and you can see the active effort he is putting in not to laugh at you even as he fails at keeping his amused grin in check.

“didn’t catch it the first time?” he teases, and you resent that actually!

“You vastly overestimate my ability to think when someone as big as you is directly in front of me!” you protest, squeaking the last few words when you realize exactly what you just said.

The skeleton stares, and then his grin turns almost predatory as he looks you over.

“you like ‘em big, huh?”

You regret everything!

“I mean— That’s not! I didn’t…”

“Sans,” the skeleton— Sans interrupts you, shoving his hands in his jacket pocket. You’re incapable of answering, and all you can do is follow him when he heads back to the restaurant.

Before the two of you re-enter the building, you hear him tack on something else that probably has your entire being, soul and all, flushing bright red.

“and don’t worry, i like ‘em tiny.”

[orbital-inclination]

HE MISSPOKE, BADLY

[temp-fg]

For the Horrortale Sans lovers out there lol

Art practice

[soul-shenanigans]

Can I try Horror's hat? It seems big, so probably won't fit my head, but I want to try-

there you go buddy-

[yeosin-n]

Omg ur so wonderful!!! I was wondering if we could give horror some chocolate? (And if he's up for it maybe even a hug... Or a kiss) please? I love ur stuff btw!!!!

I ALMOST FORGOT HOW HOT HORROR IS he’s so fun to draw

[aylish91]

New chapter incoming!!

Sea Of Hope Chapter 8

Previous Next SOH Master Grandmaster

This masterful piece of art was done by @aoi-kanna as a commission. They are truly talented and I appreciate all the hard work they put into making this for me. Go check them out, they are absolutely wonderful!!!

Story below or AO3 above.

~~~

While Axe checked you over, Edge grabbed Red by the back of the neck and stormed down the main hatch, loudly yelling at the rest of the crew to mind their own business as they scurried out of his way. For the most part, Red's protests went unheard as he was dragged down the steep steps. Blue, on the other hand, had hesitantly approached Papyrus, whispering something before they too turned and headed past the hatch, disappearing through a pair of doors into the upper levels of the ship. 

The clearing of a throat had you tensing and pressing closer to Axe. Black had once again gotten closer than you were comfortable with, standing only a couple paces away. “AS HEARTWARMING AS THIS IS, IT IS QUICKLY BECOMING LATE AND THE LADY STILL NEEDS ADEQUATE DRESS. MY BROTHER’S COAT IS HARDLY A FITTING SUBSTITUTE.”  

Rus chuckled beside him. However, when he made to comment, a look from Black had him looking down instead. 

Axe narrowed his sockets. “Don’t know where you’re planning on get’n somethin. Ain’t exactly swimmin in extras and you’ve refused to mend mine so I could give it to her.”  

Black scoffed. “YOU FAILED TO MENTION IT WAS FOR YOUR MARKED. YOU HAVE ALSO YET TO COMPLETE THE TASK I ASKED OF YOU. I DID NOT SEE THE POINT IN TURNING IN YOUR FAVOR WHEN MY OWN HAD BEEN UNMET.” 

“Been busy.” 

“AS WE’VE ALL.” 

Something shifted in the air, both of their eyelights brightening. Rus glared, moving closer to his brother. It took Crooks placing a hand on Axe’s shoulder for the two to back down. 

“Petty bastard.” 

“WHEN IT SUITS ME.” With a flourish of a hand and a half step back, he indicated the direction of the doors, continuing to meet Axe’s gaze. “NOW, I BELIEVE WE SHOULD ATTEMPT TO FIND SOMETHING MORE SUITABLE UNTIL NEXT WE MAKE PORT. SURELY YOU CAN AGREE IT WOULD BE IN EVERYONE’S BEST INTEREST.”  

“Fine, but we’re not leadin’.” You could hear the creak of Axe’s teeth. 

“OF COURSE.” With a tight turn, Black nodded, marching forward with Rus trailing behind with a wink. "AS YOU WISH." 

Axe refused to move at first, tugging his empty socket and prompting a sighing Crooks to nudge you both. "I Know You Don’t Like Him, But He Is Fair.” 

“Bastard never does anything fer free.” 

“And Yet, He Has A Point.”  

Neither you nor Axe was reassured but allowed him to guide you forward regardless. Crewmen brave enough to linger eyed your group with various degrees of emotion. When a dog monster growled, another was quick to slap the back of their head, nervously hunching at a glare from both of your skeleton friends. You tried not to show your fear or your growing limp as you passed, hoping Rus' long coat hid what you couldn’t. It didn't seem like a good idea to show weakness around others. The watchful eyes and aggressive postures spoke volumes to your already heightened nerves. Entering the ship did nothing to ease your discomfort.  

It felt cramped and pressing despite having more than enough space and light. Unlike the previous ship, several lanterns lit the expanse leaving no ominous shadows or darkened areas. You could easily see all the doors lining the walls as well as the beautifully carved and decorated windowed doors marking the end of the hall. Rus waited near the last door on the left.  

It was calm and warm, but you couldn’t shake off the feelings of danger. 

“Ya c’n go inside Darlin. Milord’s wait’n.” Rus stood to the side, motioning you inside the now open door. 

You looked to your companions. While Axe kept his eyelight on Rus, Crooks’ soft smile and nod gave you enough of a boost to cautiously cross the threshold. It smelled of lavender tinted with something you couldn’t quite place, the overall size relatively small. What looked like a narrow modified canopy bed connected to the wall was on your right. In front of you, under a single window, was a rather lovely desk intricately carved with polished knobs. To your immediate left was an open decorative chest shoved in the corner. Everything was of exquisite taste and quality, from the bedding and carvings on the furniture to the upholstery on the chair at the desk. The few trinkets left out were of fine gold or silver with glistening jewels. 

You jumped when the door closed behind you. Axe nor Crooks had made it inside. It had your stomach rolling with nerves. You did not anticipate having the others closed out. Having Black now between you and the only exit made it worse. His eyelights were too bright. 

Didn’t Rus call him a lord...? 

Your chest tightened at his approach, making sure to lower your gaze. 

“TRUE TO MY WORD, THAT HORROR’S GARMENT HAS BEEN MENDED. HAD I KNOWN IT WAS FOR SOMETHING LIKE THIS, I NEVER WOULD HAVE HELD ONTO IT.” In his hands was a large linen shirt, neatly folded and dark in color. Holding it out, he offered it to you. “PUT IT ON. I WILL ADJUST IT AS NEEDED AFTER.” 

You froze, intently focusing on the simple article of cloth. Was he expecting you to do it here and now? In front of him? Wasn’t it bad enough you were laid bare in front of all those on the deck, or stars, when you pressed yourself against Blue? At least Axe had good reason to see you. Multiple! To willingly undress now in the presence of a man other than your husband...  

By the angel, what would Axe think of all this? 

Black must have noticed your silent panicked uncertainty when you didn’t immediately take it. Clearing his throat, something in his tone changed. “I SHALL, OF COURSE, REFRAIN FROM LOOKING WHILE YOU DO SO. YOU MAY LEAVE MY BROTHER’S COAT ON THE CHAIR WHEN YOU ARE READY.” 

It was hard not to squirm. While that was greatly appreciated, it still felt uncomfortable. Could you trust his word? You hardly knew the man. Perhaps things may have felt different if the room wasn’t quite so stifling or the door hadn’t been shut so suddenly. 

Luckily, heavy thumps in the hall distracted Black enough for him to hand you the garment himself, squinting at the door behind him. He was just about to speak again when another set of thumps sounded, this time shaking the door. Growling, he finally turned when the muffled voices following the noise got angrier. 

You really didn’t want to do this right now. Not here. Not with all the uncertainties surrounding you.  

Taking a slow breath in, you let it out. The sooner you changed, the sooner you could be rid of these unsettling feelings. With unsteady fingers twitching against the fabric as you took one last glance at Black’s back. 

One more breath. 

The sound of your rattling bones was louder without the security of the coat. Placing it on the chair, you did your best to quickly dress.  

The feeling of fabric against your bones was surprisingly comforting as you pulled it over your head. True to Axe’s size, the shirt almost went to your knees. It was so large the fabric pooled on your much smaller frame and reminded you of the nightgowns you used to wear back at the manor. 

If only it wasn’t so short. 

Though your more private areas were covered, it was not good for a lady to show so much… leg. You tugged at the hem, the sleeves threatening to engulf your hands.  

“I’m dressed, my lord.” 

A calculated breath was your only answer before his eyelights found you, fuzzy with a slight warble. You had to second guess if you had seen them correctly, for the next moment they were back to their bright and sharp orbs. Getting closer, they traveled over you as he hummed, the heel of his boots clicking as he circled. If you had hair, it would have stood on end at the subtle brush of his hand against your back. 

“AS I EXPECTED.” 

You startled, yelping when he came around to lightly grip your hips. Instinctively, your hands came to your chest from the forwardness, sockets wide. He paid no mind, eyelights intent on the bunched fabric. He only let go to pull a satin rope from his pocket. 

You squeaked again when he reached around you to wrap it around your waist. 

“MUCH BETTER. HOWEVER," His gloved hands touched your elbows, slowly moving up your arms to grasp your hands for inspection. “YOUR MAGIC. IT IS MUCH TOO THIN…” He turned them over. “Hmmmmm. Knowing Him…” 

Your chest clenched. He was close enough you could feel his ambient heat and wisps of breath. 

Before Black could say or do anything else, his door nearly burst off its hinges, a very aggravated Axe forcing it open. Black pulled you into him with a snarl, eyelights vanishing with the click of his teeth. Stuck in a headlock was a disgruntled Rus, resigned to the hold around his neck. 

You didn’t know if you could physically handle any more stress.  

“BY THE ANGEL, YOU WILL REPLACE THAT LOCK IF YOU HAVE BROKEN IT!” 

Axe’s voice was low, grin tight as he took in the scene. “Don’t appreciate the closed door, Black. Hell ya think yer doin’ in here?” 

Black placed you behind him, grumbling a growl. “AS I STATED EARLIER, I HAVE GIVEN HER SOMETHING TO ADEQUATELY COVER HERSELF UNTIL WE CAN PROCURE SOMETHING MORE FITTING.”  

Axe narrowed his sockets at Black’s squared shoulders. For a split second, you could see the red orb of his eyelight flick over the man in front of you before it focused on you.  

“Sure that's all ya were doin’?” 

The fabric of Black’s gloves creaked. “IF YOU MUST KNOW, I WAS INSPECTING HER MAGIC FLOW. I’M NO EXPERT, BUT EVEN I CAN TELL IT’S RUNNING LOW. A MORE IMPORTANT QUESTION WOULD BE, WHY HAVEN’T YOU—” 

“I’ve been doin’ exactly what I need ta be. Don’t need ta explain myself either.” Rus stumbled into the room when Axe unceremoniously released him to motion to you. “Now, if yer done?” 

With a snarl, Black pointed a finger. “NOW SEE HERE YOU–” 

Instinctually, you reached out, stopping just before Black’s arm. “My lord, I!” You faltered at his abrupt attention, pulling back to dip your head in respect. “I thank you for your kindness, but I should return to my lord husband before any more misunderstandings occur.” 

His eyelights stuttered. “I, I BEG YOUR PARDON?” 

There was a beat of awkward silence before Axe broke into heavy laughter, the loudest and deepest you’ve heard from him. It was enough to warm your cheeks as he beckoned you out and away from the room. Black gaped, slack-jawed and sputtering as you passed. You were already being guided onto the deck by the time he was able to call out one last time from his doorway. 

“AXE! YOU WILL… THAT… YOU WILL EXPLAIN YOURSELF!” 

Axe only laughed harder, closing the doors behind you. 

The sun had mostly set by the time you stepped out into the humid sea air. You would have done anything in the past to be able to look up, out, and around but Axe was swift in guiding you down the main hatch. You didn’t want to linger longer than necessary anyway. 

You didn’t have Rus’s coat to hide under. 

You were grateful for the darkness once you were under. The lanterns were farther spread, some empty of light altogether. It helped ease your mind against the wandering eyes. Most gathered under the brightest lamps, playing cards at makeshift tables, drinking, and socializing while others lounged in hammocks hanging interspersed between the canons. While some watched you pass, Axe was surprisingly good at slipping through the darkest areas to avoid the unwanted attention.  

The closer you got to the front of the ship, the fewer people there were until you came upon barrels and crates stacked near and around an area quartered off by familiar heavy sheets. You could even recognize the stack you and Blue had hidden next to, the sheet on that side still halfway pulled down. Axe was kind enough to hold the flap for you to enter. 

Finally, you were able to relax the tension out of your shoulders and pained joints. You wanted to climb back into the hammock and rest your aching pelvis, maybe snuggle against Axe and his warmth. The way he moved about though had you gingerly sitting on his stool, setting it upright from where it had been knocked over. 

You wondered when that had occurred. What happened after you had been taken? 

... 

A quiet curse had you looking back at Axe as he re-fastened the makeshift wall. There were a few more rips in it than you remembered. If he had any sewing supplies, you would have to mend them. It was the least you could do as thanks. 

You let out a slow breath, peering down at your clenched fists. They were cold and stiff on your lap. Black had been interested in them. The lot of them had been interested in general, but he had seemed so focused. 

Your voice was soft, hesitant as you summoned the courage to speak. “Axe? I have so many questions, but I’m afraid… I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask.” 

Axe chuckled. “Don’t gotta be afraid with me, Dove. It’s good ta ask questions around here. The more ya know the better, good or bad. Don’t let anyone tell ya otherwise.” 

You picked at the hem of the shirt, smoothing it down as much as you could. “Is that true?" Axe simply grunted. Collecting yourself, you forced yourself to ask the questions burning your mind. "What is a Banthos? What does it mean to be one? And what did Black mean when he said my magic was too thin? I don’t have magic. I’m not… I’m not even a monster.” 

It was hard not to flinch when, from your peripherals, you saw him stop. His voice had become more serious but thankfully still soft.  

“The hell yer not. Listen, I don’t know what you’ve been told, where ya come from, or what ya been through. But you’re as much of a monster as the rest of us. You’re made of magic and hope just like me.” He came over to place your hand in his scarred one, taking a knee to look directly into your sockets. “We’re the same. Dust and all. It don’t matter about anything else. As fer your magic,” he rubbed his face with a frustrated sigh, “let me worry about that. Just know ya got it and I’m gonna make damn sure ta get it where it needs ta be.” 

You didn’t know what to say to that, but it sent a comforting feeling to your chest. He was always so warm. It reminded you of your mother.  

Nodding, you were about to ask about your first question when footsteps interrupted you. Axe stood, moving between you and the flap.  

“AXE, IT IS GETTING LATE. I HAVE TAKEN THE LIBERTY OF PREPARING SANS’ ROOM FOR THE LITTLE MISS. I HOPE YOU HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN.”  

Axe only slightly relaxed at the sound of Papyrus’ voice, not moving but calling out to the other skeleton. “I can take her when we’re ready. Just got a few–” he bristled when Papyrus entered and smiled down at you, hand twitching at his side –“more things ta take care of.” 

“AND WHAT MIGHT THAT BE SO I MAY HELP?” When Axe only grumbled, Papyrus took it upon himself to continue. “WELL, WHILE YOU FIGURE THINGS OUT, I SHALL MAKE SURE TO GET HER SAFELY TO HER NEW LODGINGS.” 

You both tensed. “Papyrus. Paps. At least let things settle before ya drag er away. You saw Sans. I don’t trust him.” 

Papyrus looked a little sheepish at the accusation. “I UNDERSTAND YOUR CONCERN, BUT I HAVE FAITH THAT THIS WILL WORK. I MYSELF WILL KEEP AN EYE ON THINGS IF I MUST. He Means Well. NOT THAT, THAT IS AN EXCUSE FOR HIS TERRIBLE BEHAVIOR.” He came forward to place a hand on Axe’s shoulder, humble and pleading. “WON’T YOU AT LEAST TRUST ME?” 

You couldn’t place the look that crossed Axe’s face from the question, the red orb of his eyelight quaking until his free hand brushed the edges of his empty socket. “That’s cheat’n…” There was a heaviness to the silence.  

When Axe’s shoulders sagged, Papyrus gave him back his space. “All WILL BE WELL. I’M SURE OF IT.” 

You were uncertain as to what you needed to do, but before you could stand, Axe nudged you back down. With the reluctance of a stubborn cat, he then went about gathering items he had deemed yours, going so far as draping his favored blanket over your shoulders. When all was said and done, you were left with a surprisingly intricate box full of puzzles, Axe’s blanket, and an affectionate nuzzle to your neck.  

It was with a heavy heart and a glowing face that you eventually followed Papyrus back out into the darkness. 

You did your best to keep up with his long strides, missing Axe’s purposely slowed gait. You could feel the grinding strain on your pelvis and lower joints with each step. You focused on the clack of your feet to keep your mind off the aching. Papyrus was already several steps ahead of you when he got to the steps.  

Blessedly, he turned to wait for you. 

It was embarrassing how out of breath you had become from such a short distance, especially when you knew you didn’t technically need to breathe. You were even more so when Papyrus cocked his head to look you over with a contemplative hum. 

His smile was kind. “MY APOLOGIES MISS. I KNEW YOU WERE IN ROUGH SHAPE, BUT I HADN’T REALIZED…” He glanced up the steps. “PERHAPS IT WOULD BE BETTER FOR ME TO HELP.” 

Without so much as a warning, he picked you up and draped you across both of his arms. You almost dropped your box, squeaking in surprise as he ascended to the deck. Your mind and tongue had stopped working from the suddenness. Though Axe had carried you once before and had moved you a few times, you didn’t quite know what to think of this stranger picking you up so nonchalantly. It was as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him, smile just as polite and kind as before. 

With him carrying you, it took little time to cross the rest of the way back through the double doors and down to the end of the hall. Standing in front of the windowed doors, you were only jostled a little when he turned the knob. He used his boot to kick it open the rest of the way with a bang, making you flinch when the glass shook precariously. 

You thought you saw a flash of blue, but when you looked, there was nothing there but a railed raised platform with an extravagant-looking bed, windows lining the entirety of the back wall. 

You shuddered. It smelled overwhelmingly of snow and cold rain. 

Scrunching his nasal ridge, Papyrus walked around a heavy round table with a scattering of papers and a lantern. Stepping onto the platform, he carefully set you down, turning to furiously rip the blankets off the bed to ball and fling them across the room with a fwump. 

“FORGIVE MY IDIOT OF A BROTHER. I WILL BE HAVING A TALK WITH HIM ABOUT APPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR LATER. FOR NOW, I’M AFRAID THIS WILL HAVE TO DO. AT LEAST THE BED IS EXCEPTIONALLY COMFORTABLE.” He put his hand down to pat the mattress. “IT IS A GIMBAL BED, MADE WITH LARGER MONSTERS IN MIND SO YOU WILL HAVE PLENTY OF SPACE AND WON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THE TIPPING OF THE SHIP.” 

When you didn’t move, he gently ushered you to sit before making his way to the windows. It was so dark now that the light from the lamp effectively turned them into mirrors. You were grateful, too afraid to look through them. To your relief, Papyrus closed the many curtains for each once. Once done, he gently took your box and stood at the end of the bed, bowing slightly from the waist. 

“I WOULD STAY TO HELP YOU SETTLE, BUT I UNFORTUNATELY HAVE OTHER DUTIES I NEED TO TAKE CARE OF AT THIS TIME. BUT DO NOT FEAR, I WILL MAKE SURE SOMEONE WILL BE BY IN THE MORNING TO BRING YOU SOME TEA AND BREAKFAST AND TO WELCOME YOU.” Walking away, he stopped to place your box on the table and extinguish the lantern. “SLEEP WELL MISS.”  

With a wave, he picked up the bundle of discarded blankets and walked out the door, closing it behind him. 

… 

It was frightening, alone in the dark.

Previous Next SOH Master Grandmaster

[onerudegentleman]

I think you guys need to find another guy to crush on…..

[undertale-fluffcanons]

Hello! (I'm not very sure if this is categorized as angst, so if it is, just ignore this request.) However, I was wondering if you could do a hc of how Horror and Dust would react to their s/o crying. Thanks! <3

Sorry I’m only going to do Horror since I am running a little slow with requests, but I want to write, so one character at a time.

Horrortale Sans:

*Axe is… definitely not the best when it comes to comforting others

*he wants to know who made you cry

*”no, please don’t kill anyone,” you told him

*eventually he just settled with cuddling with you and trying his best to help you feel better

[trashcatmonster]

POV you’re the Pie in Sans’ fridge

SKLDJFG FOR REAL!!

You had baked a pie for him. Said he was sweet as pie when you presented it to him.

Sans hadn't taken a slice out of it on the date, he told you he wanted to save it for when bugs weren't at risk of having a bite at the time, but he mostly just...

When Sans takes that first bite out of the slice on his plate, he's overwhelmed with the excitement and care you'd had when you were baking. And his reasons for trying it at home to save at least a little face suddenly feel so much more justified.

He'd seen the way you looked at him when magic had flushed his skull. If Sans had let himself indulge in your intent right in front of you, you'd know how tightly you have him wrapped around your little finger already.

Sans sighs, taking another bite and slouching against the table. Even now, relishing in your shy affection, he can feel his cheeks warm with the magic pooled in them. Stars, how did he get this lucky? He's gonna have to introduce you to Papyrus soon...

Not yet, though. He's gonna keep you to himself just a little longer.

[orbital-inclination]

*Ht!Sans wishes you a happy belated valentine’s day. and tries to ask you out on a date shhhh

(And a couple more under the cut~)

[comicalters]

og sans is 4ever and eeaao rules

aus in order;

underswap - popcornpr1nce

xtale - jakei95

errortale - loverofpiggies

horrortale - sour-apple-studios

outertale - 2mi127

reapertale - renrink

something new - rahafwabas

epictale - yugogeer012

overtale - HezuNeutral

underfell - underfell

[ashkabbom]

A photo of best friends 🥰🥰

Please follow me on my tiktok to see my other drawings <33 ttk:@ashkabbom

[merlinmarvelandother-oneshots]

Sorry, I meant to send an ask yesterday, but I got carried away 😅

So what about ut, us, uf and ht (you can ignore the last one if you want to don't worry) and how they would be with a reader that hides the fact that they're physically hurt.

Maybe they went hiking with the skellie, and they tripped and pretended that it was only a little scratch when days later they see quite a big wound that's infected.

It's a bit gross, so it's okay if you don't do it, don't worry :)

Have a good day/night and be safe

-💀

UnderTale, UnderSwap, UnderFell, and HorrorTale skellies react to a reader hiding that they're injured

you had gotten in a little tussle with a fallen branch walking home. you were completely oblivious, and tripped right over it. it hurt to walk on, and you soon noticed it swelling. it wasn't... sprained, right? nah, of course not! you brushed it off, thinking that it would be just fine in a day or two.

but until then, you might want to put some ice on that.

and so you did. for three days, with no sign of improvement. you tried keeping it a secret, but then your s/o came home while you were putting ice on it, right on the couch beside the door, and...

UnderTale:

Sans:

-he walks into the house, immediately heading for the couch.

-"hey, y/n, i'm ho- you alright? what happened to you?"

-"oh! sans, hi, i didn't expect you home so early!" you wave frantically to draw his eyes away from your ankle.

-"yeah... work was slow, so i came home. whats going on? you're acting weird."

-"pshh, don't be silly, nothing's wrong! absolutely nothing!"

-he sighs.

-"my whole shtick back in the underground was that i can see peoples stats. your HPs lowered, you're acting really awkward about your leg, and you're trying to hide an ice pack from me. i know, i saw it when i walked in. so, im gonna ask you again. whats going on?"

-you sighed. he caught you, he always did.

-"i dont know what's up. I tripped a few days ago and my ankle just started swelling. I'm gonna give it a few more days before I see a doctor, just to see if it heals on its own."

-"alright then," really? that's it? not going to insist you see someone? well, that's great for you! "I'm going to grillby's. wanna come?"

-you nodded your head.

-"cmon, let's take a shortcut."

-he took you to the fucking ER.

Papyrus:

-you look up after hearing the door open and you heard a crash.

-he had gone grocery shopping, apparently, because his bags were sprawled on either side of him on the floor.

-his jaw was only half hinged, that's how bad you scared him.

-as in it dropped. almost fully.

-he suddenly runs to your side (re-hinging his jaw on the way) and kneels by your side.

-"HUMAN, what ever is the matter? is it serious? does it hurt? will it need stitches? should i take you to-"

-"Paps! i'm okay. i think it's just sprained, i'll be alright," you tries to reassure him.

-"SPRAINED? oh, HEAVENS no, i must take you to the doctor right away!"

-you sigh. "Papyrus, it isn't that big of a deal. i'm sure it'll be alright in a few days."

-"absolutely not! what if it's worse than you think? it could kill you!"

-he really thought a sprained ankle could kill you? he may be clueless about human injuries, but at least he cares!

-you don't have too much time to reply before he picks you up, puts you in the car, buckles you up (because heaven forbid something ELSE happen to you, ESPECIALLY under his watch) and brings you to the ER.

UnderFell:

Sans:

-he literally did not notice.

-he grumbles a quiet, "hey," before trotting upstairs into his room.

-it isn't until several days later when the pain has worsened and you cannot walk on it that he asks what the fuck is going on.

-you explained that you had tripped a few days ago, and it got swollen, and you thought that it would just go away, but it's been getting worse and worse since it happened.

-"fuckin' idiot," he groaned. "i'm dating a goddamn moron! alright, get in the car. i'm takin' you to a hospital."

-he's groaning the entire way.

Papyrus:

-as soon as he lays eyes on you, he sighs.

-"what did you do this time?"

-what the hell did he mean, 'this time'? he CANNOT be holding you accountable for that one time you got a concussion! that was HIS fault!

-"hey! you BETTER not be talking about-"

-"about the concussion," he cut you off. "yes, yes, i'm aware, you believe that incident to be my doing. however, i can GUARANTEE that this is not! now, tell me what happened. i expect a full explanation."

-you rolled you eyes and told him, feeling a little pissed off about his crossed arms and tapping foot, although you couldn't fully blame him. the whole situation WAS a little silly, now that you have to say it out loud.

-he scoffed when you finished talking. such a silly thing! why the HELL didn't you immediately see a doctor? swelling is NEVER normal!

-how did he, a skeleton monster who had gone most of his life without so much as seeing a human, know more about human anatomy than a fully grown human adult?

-and how did he, an esteemed member of the royal guard, end up in a relationship with such a fool?

-"get yourself looking decent. we are visiting the hospital to get you proper treatment."

-'looking decent', you looked fi-! no, you didn't, nevermind.

UnderSwap:

Sans:

-"hey, y/n, Alphys let out training early, so i'm back! what are you doing?"

-you scrambled to hide the ice pack and hike your pants back over your ankle. "oh, uh. . . nothing," you said sheepishly in reply, a fake grin appearing on your face.

-"oohhhh, no no no. i know that look. you're hiding something. best be honest now."

-damn him! how DARE he know you so well!

-"i think i did something to my ankle," you muttered.

-"hmm. . . let me see."

-he walked over and inspected your ankle for a few moments.

-"it looks sprained. when did this start?"

-"a few days ago. i tripped and it started swelling."

-he gave your ankle ankther quick look.

-"and why didn't you tell me?"

-"well, i thought it would go away at first. i was going to tell you, if it didn't. i was just going to wait a few days."

-"well, there's no need! i'm taking you to a doctor."

-he helped you stand and let you use him as something like a crutch, so you wouldn't have to put too much weight on your injured foot.

Papyrus:

-you look up to see him standing, eyebrows furrowed (you know what i mean sans does it in the main game) looking at you.

-"anything you want to tell me?"

-"ah, nothing. . . i'm just gonna go to a doctor if this doesn't start getting better."

-you knew the look he was giving you. he wanted to know what happened.

-"i tripped a few days ago and my ankle started swelling. nothing major. it's just a little sore."

-"mmm. i'm sure. you have five minutes, then i'm taking you to a doctor," he said as he laid on the couch beside you.

-"no, Paps, there's really no need-" you were interupted by snoring. but you knew that didn't mean you were off the hook. he would be awake in five minutes EXACTLY, whether you were ready to go or not.

HorrorTale:

Sans:

-he kinda just stands there for a few moments after he sees you with the ice pack.

-ice pack means something's wrong, because he doesn't see food around, but his skull injury makes figuring anything else out difficult.

-ice pack. . . on your ankle. . .

-it doesn't matter what's wrong. he just knows something is. so, he comforts you! in the only way he knows how!

-which is a BONE-CRUSHING hug.

-and because you're sitting, and he's standing over you, leaning down to hug you, it's a very awkward angle. leading to a lot of bones jabbing into uncomfortable places.

-you know you can't really do anything to get him off of you, so you just wait it out.

-"i'm alright, Sans. it isn't anything major. i'm about to go to a doctor!"

-he was going to tell you to anyway. you just got that part out of the way.

-his time in the underground under Undyne's rule made him very paranoid about the health of those he loves, so no matter how big the injury, you MUST see a doctor.

-it's not up for debate.

-he drives you because he doesn't want you to have to put any more strain on your ankle.

-(should he even have a drivers license? questionable...)

Papyrus:

-he has a puzzled look on his face.

-that. . . he suspected that wasn't a good sign.

-"y/n. . . i don't suppose you want to tell me what is going on?"

-"oh," you nervously laughed. "no biggie. just tripped a few days ago, it kinds hurts. if it doesn't feel better tomorrow i'm seeing a doctor."

-"hmm. i shall hold you to that."

-you laughed. you bet he would.

-spoiler alert, he did.

(a/n: sorry if this is totally inaccurate to having a sprained ankle, it just seemed like a good scenario, and i was too in the writing groove ((once i actually started)) to do much research)

[ant1quarian]

What if you made a plushie version of the avian boys and gifted it to them as a courting gift after you figured out they were trying to court you? (ft, Sans, Red, Axe, Dust, Killer, Nightmare & Error)

Sans would be super flustered, and super appreciative. He'd keep the plushie in his nest all cozy-like and show you it excitedly whenever you turn up to visit him.

Red secretly loves it. He eyes it with faint amusement and he's really happy that you want to court him as well, but he's not going to be like Sans when it comes to it. You don't think he likes it until you end up in his nest one day and your plushie is sitting there in prime condition.

Axe loves the plush- and loves to get you to smother it in your scent so he can snuggle with it at night. Sometimes he hands it back for a day so that you can snuggle with it while he has his scent on it.

Dust probably stares at his look alike before simply nodding. He definitely likes it, though. Keeps it in his nest in the corner that's the least likely to get wet.

Killer actively shows you how much he loves it, keeping it with him almost always. He likes to pull it out and show you it with a happy grin. It's not necessarily in a very good condition, but it's definitely well-loved.

Nightmare gives you a forehead smooch as thanks. He loves it, and he'll often start staring at it silently with a happy expression on his face. It's common for him to snuggle up with it or sit it in his fluff.

Error absolutely adores it and will make you one in return. 'Cause then at night it's kind of like cuddling each other from afar and he really likes that thought. You'll see him happily grinning whenever he plays around with his plush.

Hehe, plushies. Gotta love 'em