#horrormafiafell

[sovlstr]

6 month difference(June 28 - January 22).

Mafia!Horror created by @aka-indulgence and @llamagoddessofficial, specific design by @soul-shenanigans. It was time for a redraw 🤍

—-——————

[ivyprism]

"The most beautiful part is... I wasn't even looking when I found you."

Affray hums as he wraps your hand carefully. @kuvvydraws

[salzab]

<3

Had my brain taken over by this scenario. Enjoy a snippet.

---

“Agent, are you in?”

“I’m in position.”

“Agent is in position. Everyone else, stand by.”

That was you. The ‘everyone else’ part- not the 'agent' part. About six other people were placed around the massive room in various spots. You didn't even know who the other people are, to preserve their safety. You glanced up from the bar, making sure not to look at the agent at the top casino table, instead admiring the very, very expensive casino you were in, the chandeliers and diamonds and saturated golden colour to everything. Your only job was to listen out for one of two codes. If you heard the first code, you were to make your way to the exit in your own time. If you heard the second code, you and the others were to get the agent out, and protect him with your life.

You were collateral.

... You had never seen such an expensive place. Chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the usual blaring lights and sounds were missing, this was far too refined an establishment. This was the kind of casino where the small blind would be the cost of a really nice house. You were sitting at the bar, wearing a dress and jewellery provided for you, ‘drinking’ (not really) an incredibly expensive martini paid for by the company card-  in any other circumstance, you probably wouldn’t even be allowed into this place. Perhaps as a dishwasher hidden away in the kitchens, if you were lucky.

You sipped the drink. You didn’t even know what the mission was, only the people vital to the mission knew what the mission was, to protect those involved. Honestly, you were just absorbing the glitz and glamour. A glimpse of a world you’d never be a part of. You had nothing to do except intervene if things went south. 

“Target has entered the room. Wait for him to sit at the table and place his bet. Eyes on the prize.”

...

“Hold on. Target passed the table. He...”

...

Your earpiece cut out. Weird. But that probably meant things were getting serious at the betting table, and the important stuff was happening. You weren’t privy to that.

A skeletal hand placed itself onto the bar, just next to you. The deepest voice you’d ever heard spoke.

“... this seat... taken, doll?”

You glanced up from your drink, and found yourself staring into the eyes of...

... the eyelight of Sans Serif.

Woah. Holy shit. You froze, for a second, pinned under that burning red eye... Sans Serif himself. That signature golden tooth. All but leaning over you, his physique was absolutely was towering, especially considering you were sitting. Didn’t his dad own the guy who ran this place? He was more physically intimidating up close than he was in pictures, with those massive shoulders and hands, that vicious skull crack only just hidden under his hat.

... But equally, he was a lot more handsome than photos gave him credit for. You hadn't expected that. Sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, he suited the perfectly tailored red and black suit made exactly to his massive measurements.

“Oh. Uhm... no, it’s fine, you can sit here.” You were nervous. This guy was a big fish, easily the biggest in the casino, one of the biggest in the world. Private jets and yachts, he played at the betting table with amounts of money you couldn't even imagine. He was born into more money than you could ever even comprehend.

He and his family could make you vanish. Not that he needed his family, though. One hand could snap your neck.

... He sat beside you. Your eyes darted up, making note of the two security guards who shuffled to either end of the bar. Suited just as well as him, in matching colours, sunglasses over their eyes and earbuds in their ears.

“... sorry, darlin’. don’t... mind them.” His voice was warm, rich, very soft. He spoke slowly, as if you were the only person in the room with him, but with a precision and deliberateness to his words that sounded like he had spent many hours practising speech. “can’t... go nowhere... without ‘em.”

Wow. He was talking to you. What was he doing? Was he just bored? There were other available seats at the bar, next to much more beautiful women. There were a lot of very beautiful women in this casino who would be delighted to keep the company of the Red Devil himself.

“... If I’m honest, I don’t think they’ll be doing much guarding.” You figured you’d just engage him like he was a normal person. Politely, of course- but no reason why not. 

“hm?” His huge eyelight was fuzzy at the edges.

You gave him a look. “I mean... they’re half your size. They look like your minibosses.”

He chuckled at that. It was a gentle and handsome sound, it eased you. You were still trying to grapple with the fact that Sans Serif was sitting beside you, talking to you. The two of you were from completely different universes.

He seemed so much less intimidating than people described, though. Weird.

The bartender slid Sans a drink without him even asking. It looked like an expensive whiskey, in an equally expensive crystal glass, with a single piece of ice.

“not... bettin’, tonight?” He spoke slowly, lifting the drink to his mouth. He had a golden ring on his index finger that probably cost more than your rent. What was he doing? Were... were you being flirted with by Sans Serif?

You giggled. “No, no, absolutely not. I’m terrible at cards, and dice, everything. Not a chance.”

He grinned. “s’... smart. seen... lotta suckers... lose everything, at those tables.”

He sounded so friendly. So nice. You were unwinding- it strangely so easy to forget who he was.

“Not like I have much money to lose anyway.”

“what brings you... to a casino, then?”

“I’m gonna be honest, I don’t really belong in this sort of place. My friends like the casino a lot more than I do.” You glanced away, again having to make a conscious effort to avoid looking at the agent. “But it seems like they’ve abandoned me.”

... He looked down at your untouched martini. “well. may i... keep you... company? doll?”

You nearly flushed. “Of course.”

His eyelight raked over you. His voice was so deep, so pleasant. “d'ya think... i could start... by gettin’ you a drink you like?”

Sans wanted to buy you a drink? You were... well. Honestly, you were flattered. But also a little embarrassed at being caught out with disliking your drink. You pushed the martini glass away from you.

“It’s that easy to tell I don’t like it?”

The corner of his working socket crinkled. “made... a funny face, when y’sipped it.”

You couldn’t help but giggle again. “I’m sorry. I try so hard to like martinis.”

His smile grew. “why?” 

“... They look so elegant. But...” you nearly cringed at yourself. “... I think they’re kinda nasty.”

He laughed. You felt proud of yourself for getting the sound out of him. You didn't notice the surprised look on his guards' faces.

He brought up his hand, resting his chin on it- why was he looking at you like that? Like you were the only person in the room? “what drinks do you like?”

“The ones that are more fruit juice than alcohol.”

“that... can be arranged.” He purred. “no one will judge. since you’re with me.”

... He was right. Nobody was going to pick you up on drinking something less fancy, when you were with the man himself.

“... I like a tequila sunrise.” You said, sheepishly.

He grinned, and looked to the bartender.

“two tequila sunrises, rob.”

---

Sans straightened his jacket as you walked away. Once you were out of sight, his head guard moved over to him, speaking with a low voice.

“Sir?”

“change... my dinner reservation... to two. i want her at my hotel. tonight.”

“Sir, you're aware that she’s...”

He cast his gaze to his guard. His eyelight, soft and warm with you, was now sharp and empty of feeling. “do i look stupid?”

The guard bowed his head in apology. “No, sir. I am just concerned about the Institute.”

He sneered. “they don’t... care. they’ll see that... i’m interested in her... and turn her into ‘bait’. they’ll put her... right in my lap.”

“Yes, sir.”

“make sure... the jet is fuelled. once we’re leaving... it’ll be fast.”

“Yes, sir.”

... Sans paused. He stared in the direction you had left in. His voice, this time, came out much gentler.

“... make the cabin fridge drinks... sweet.”

“Yes, sir.”

[mothiepixie]

"Quit Yer Wisecrackin'"

Ajsbsjsjsjs another amazing dub from SuperShadic X250!!

This time featuring HorrorMafiafell @aka-indulgence @llamagoddessofficial

Thought you two might like to see 🫶

[skelekins]

HorrorMafiaFell (HMF) Sans belongs to @aka-indulgence

[angrytreemartensmain]

I have an idea, but I’m indecisive

Pick a sexy skele

[hesperkat]

:0

So... me and @llamagoddessofficial have been cooking up an au for a while... let me show you our hmf!Sans :> (Horror Mafiafell Sans)

You're a waitress working at a bar/restaurant, and a certain skeleton has been coming back again and again. You can't help but wonder... why?

---

“He’s all yours, babe.”

You look up from notes on the wall. You’d like to ask ‘who?’ but both you and Lisa know there was no use. You already knew who it was. You didn’t even have to look out the circular window to check. You just stare at Lisa helplessly.

“Really?” You try, “can’t you just… a bit longer?”

Your words come out a perfect mess. Lisa understands anyway.

“Look… I don’t know how to tell you this (Y/n),” She puts a hand on her hip, “you know I can’t go back out there to him.”

“But…!”

You bite your lip. You know she’s telling the truth. You wish you could tell her to suck it up and go back there, no matter how scared she was but… you’re not taking chances with the current patron sitting in the corner of the bar. No one would.

For Lisa’s… and everyone’s sake, you’re not going to see what he might do if you sent her out to tell him that you won’t be serving him tonight.

You sigh, and take a peek through the window. Though elusive nowadays, it was unmistakable who the man- the skeleton in question was.

Sans was built like a tank, his form hunched over the table. Even sitting on the wide, plush red sofa, he looked like a giant, dwarfing the table and chairs like they were playsets. Monsters were already bigger than humans in general but him… he grew bigger than he used to- at least from what you’ve heard. Not like you knew the mob boss years and years ago before he got his infamous skull injury, and the blown eye in his left socket that was soaked in the blood of those who had crossed him. His mouth was set in a frown, filled with razor sharp teeth- one of which was golden.

The same scary face you saw shrouded in shadows in the alleyway, a sharp bone gripped in his large hand, dripping red.

You fled that night, not quite believing what you’d saw. That you’d just saw a skeleton kill a guy in the back of the restaurant? That it was the mob boss Sans?! He didn’t chase you then, and you hoped that’d be the end of it but then… he showed up to the bar as a patron one night.

You were almost certain then, that he had come to kill you. Especially when your dear friend Lisa had so helpfully told you that he’d asked for you in particular.

“her…” his bony finger had pointed at you. She DID tried to save you, to err on mistake- which one did you mean sir?

But every time you moved, his phalange followed. There was no mistaking who he was asking for.

You remember her panicked voice.

“He asked for you! Specifically!”

“W… huh? Why’d he ask for me? Can… are you sure-”

“YES! And I don’t know WHY!”

As reluctant as you were, you still went to serve him. You asked for his order while your grip on your pencil and notepad got slippery as your palms got sweaty. He took his time ordering, perusing through the menu with great attention, while you were praying that your legs didn’t looks as shaky as they felt. You’d never rush him, of course, even if you hadn’t seen him towering over a dead body.

You took his order, served it (stuttering), and… then he left.

… And came back. Again, and again. Every time, he’d ask for you to serve him. He always stares when you weren’t at his table (and actually, when you were at his table too). You could feel that red eye staring a hole into your back from behind. It was unnerving.

It’s a wonder why a man of his infamy would choose a bar like this. You’ve seen your fair share of criminals in this job- it was an alright-sized bar, and not exactly in the best place in town. You’ve learnt to turn the other cheek whenever they were around (and you were sure you didn’t realize just how many of the patrons were gangsters), pretend you were blind to their… occupation.

None of them had been as scary as Sans, though. In fact, his presence alone was enough to drive away most petty criminals.

This place was nothing special. It’s a wonder why he’d choose this place out of all places, especially for a guy who doesn’t like being seen much.

… Ok, that was a lie. Everyone working knew that he was here for you. But that didn’t explain the why.

It was clear to you now that he wasn’t coming here to kill you for witnessing… what you witnessed (Why was a man like Sans doing in that nothing alleyway anyway?). But if not for that then… why did he keep coming, to keep asking for you? Maybe he had… business around here and he liked the place enough to keep coming?

Whatever it was, he was here for a reason and you just… don’t get it.

You don’t get why he wants you to be the one serving him every time he was around, but you did anyway. It’s been a couple of nights now, but you can’t say you’ve become less nervous over time.

After a small inner pep talk to yourself and wringing your hands, you push open the door, walking into the dining area. There isn’t a lot of people inside, a common occurrence whenever Sans visited. Even if it had been busy before, some people would hurriedly finish up whatever they were doing, paying all at once and leaving. You’ve even seen someone stop before finishing their meal. The rest that stayed sat uncomfortably, trying their best to ignore the menacing air that the skeleton brought with him everywhere he’d go.

It didn’t work, of course. A presence like that wasn’t you could easily ignore.

(You wish you could ignore him.)

You smile awkwardly as you walk to his table, setting his drink down. At least you had a little bit of your work cut out for you, with Lisa taking his drink order. His eye zeroed in on you as soon as he noticed you, and though you’ve been taught it’s rude to not make eye contact, with him it felt like looking him in the eye would be the wrong thing to do.

“Is there anything else you’d like?” you ask, your voice sweet and soft as ever, hiding the sound of your beating heart.

He stares.

He always stares.

You see his pupil dilate a little, then he opens his mouth.

“want…”

Sans was a man of few words. He only said his order, and nothing else. It kept your meetings with him brief- even when it looked like he wanted to say something else, he wouldn’t.

This time, he spaces off for a moment, eye looking away from you. You watch his brows draw together, pinched as he concentrates on a thought. You wish you knew what he was thinking of, especially when his frown starts to peel back into a snarl, like he was angry.

You definitely weren’t expecting a hand around your waist, snatching you a second later.

You squeaked, notepad and pencil clattering to the floor, bumping against his sturdy chest. Everyone heard and turned to look, and as soon as they saw tiny you, sitting on the giant’s lap, practically all of them pointedly turned away. You wish they were still looking now- you were pleading with your eyes, help me I don’t think I’m supposed to be here!

He pushes you here and there, so that you’re sat more comfortably on his lap. Your mind goes blank, your body freezes. You could feel his chest expanding and contracting as he breathes. He sounds much calmer now that you were on his lap. Your breaths are shallow, and stop completely when you feel one arm wrap around your middle, like a restraint. His free hand raises, calling for Lisa, who you’ve just noticed is watching from the corner, clutching her apron, as clueless as you are. She approaches, trying to keep her eyes on the skeleton instead of you.

“... burgers.” he says, simply. She nods, and gives you a glance.

You furrow your brows, and you want to hiss Lisa help me! But as soon as she sees your expression she turns around, avoiding eye contact. You could almost hear her say sorry babe, can’t help you there!

You almost call out to her when a hand lands on your head. You go stiff, and after you take a quick peek at him, you look straight ahead. The monster’s phalanges start petting you, slowly, sinking into your hair, scratching your scalp. Sans let’s out a long breath, brushing your hair. A shiver runs down your neck.

… Well. I think I’ll be here for a while…

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting on the lap of a giant skeleton was certainly an experience. You tried distracting yourself, but it was impossible when you could feel every time Sans breathed. There was nothing you could do but sit there, playing with your apron until it was a crumpled mess, sweating a puddle onto your uniform… and maybe onto Sans’ expensive suit. You couldn’t relax, even though taking away big scary skeleton aside, he was comfortable to sit on, and he was warm… and smelled of rain and embers of a dying cigar.

He ate carefully, always leaning forward (squishing you against his chest) when he took a bite of his burger, making sure the crumbs wouldn’t fall on the top of your head, wiping his hands and his mouth before he leaned back. You could feel him sighing, and since he was the only thing you could notice, it felt like this was the most relaxed he’s ever been while in the bar, his breathing slow. Apparently he really liked your hair, with how his claws kept carding through it, even while he was eating. When his hands were clean, he’d let his hands wander all over you- but nothing untoward. You could feel him tilting his skull forward to look at you, while he thumbed your cheek, and his other hand roamed around your waist and belly. Though you were nervous, you could feel when he rubbed your thigh that it didn’t feel particularly… heated.

He sighs, and you feel the pressure of his skull on the top of your head. It took everything in you not to hunch over and avoid it. You screw your eyes shut when you feel him turn his skull, and it felt like he was… rubbing his cheek on you? Like he was snuggling you? Is… is that what he’s doing?

You’re not sure and your nerves are too frayed to call it that.

He didn’t stop after he finished either, his plate clean. He was still there- and subsequently, you stayed sitting on his lap- even after they closed the bar. It was just him now. Your coworkers kept the lights on just for him, and even most of them have gone.

He’s leaning back on the cushions, and he brought both his arms around you to pull you plush against his chest, almost tucked into his neck. You wondered if this was what a teddy bear would feel like, being hugged.

The bartender was cleaning up in the kitchen. It was just you and him in the dining area.

You swallowed… wondering what he wants to do. It’s past closing, late at night, just the two of you, and his hands were still (gently) rubbing you. They haven’t gone anywhere private but- what if he wanted to? … What if he wasn’t here to kill you but.. wanted you to… you don’t know, service him or something? Did he have unsavory requests for you?

You think that thought might’ve scared you even more than the thought of him killing you.

You startle when he grunts eventually, like he’s addressing you. A giant hand cups your cheeks and against your will they turn pink. Even though you were frightened, even if his touches were unsexual they still felt… intimate.

You squeak for the second time that night when both his hands pick you up, and sets you down on the sofa. You feel a ball form in your throat when he stands up and turns to you, thoughts running with all sorts of ‘what-ifs’. He takes your hand, opening it up, and then…

And then he places a thick wad of cash in it.

“... thank you.” He says, quiet.

You stare at the stack of paper on top of your hand, blinking once, before turning to the skeleton, jumping in your seat.

He was gone, just like that.

He was always quiet, wasn’t he?

You sit there dumbfounded, for what felt like minutes, your lips parted, money still sitting innocently in your hand. You think no one can blame you when the only thing you said after you sat there in silence was a very emphatic “... Huh?”

[kuroshiro101]

I’m not simping I’m not simping I’m not simping I’m not simping-

Mafia! Saber belongs to @owl-bones

[burrowingdweller]

Idea... A very convoluted idea... HorrorMafiaFell?

Nope, I'm not gonna mix it. I am still not sure how to feel about Horrortale, so I'm not going to mix it with other AUs just for fun.

[ivyprism]

HorrorMafia + Mafiafell Boys: gets a feral secret admirer who starts leaving hunted prey at their doorstep?

Okay. Since I don't know if this is a feral human or something... This will be an animal ask. They'd all probably capture said animal and care for it.

-H

[kertneyk]

DUDE! These guys are soooo cool! And in perfect time for Halloween! Cuckoo especially looks amazingly unhinged! Kickass job!!!

OK, OK, but HorrorFell and HorrorSwap

How dare you but also

[llamagoddessofficial]

LoveloveloveLOVE Aka and yours HorrorMafiafell <3 How's his relationship with his bro? Is his bro alive? And does he know about his brother's new fixation? I'm surprised no one has bought the dinner yet to keep a better hold on the place where Big Red's lil darling is.

@aka-indulgence and I have spoken extensively about this exact topic lol. Yes, Papyrus is alive- he saved Sans after his injury and does his best to support his brother. But Sans just isn't who he used to be.

As for their relationship... they still bicker, as siblings so often do, but they're much closer than they used to be. Pap is conscious of his brother's state, and is a lot gentler with him, often actively taking on a carer role. In Aka's words; 'Their relationship has matured a little, they still have their moments of making jabs at each other, but they never have outright fistfights like they used to. Papyrus is much more outwardly caring towards Sans and doesn’t even playfully criticize him like he used to. When Sans is having issues Papyrus is on it.'

Pap knows about his brother's 'crush' because Sans wouldn't stop fucking talking about her. But aside from that, the behavioural change was noticeable. For one, Sans was actively going outside- absolutely unheard of. But he was also dressing nicer... his mood seemed improved. His temper seemed better. And though Sans has his moments of SHE'LL NEVER LOVE ME angst, his affections have made him start to act a little more like him again.

Pap is supportive. He likes seeing his brother happier, he likes that the object of those affections is an honest hard worker. But he's still the same Papyrus- you can count on him to accompany Sans to the bar and say "REALLY? THIS IS THE ONE YOU'RE SO OBSESSED WITH??" so loudly that Sans just puts his head in his hands and wishes he would melt into the table.

[lizzie-tempest]

he's so big *sobs*

I saw your and llama’s post about HorrorFellMafia Sans and fell in love with it! Very nice work, and as thanks, here is a picture :)

I’m not sure how good the quality of the photo will be when you get it tho :/

HOLY- EEEEEE

AHHHHH *instant seretonin*

hes so BIG!!! Like a brick wall!! And she’s so tiny a- (cries)

This is the proportion I was imagining him being, built giant, wide and sturdy… she’s so small and he’s holding her so gently oughougghgh ;;;A;;; these are so soft I love them

Hey hey @llamagoddessofficial look this!

[lizzie-tempest]

❤❤❤

So... me and @llamagoddessofficial have been cooking up an au for a while... let me show you our hmf!Sans :> (Horror Mafiafell Sans)

You're a waitress working at a bar/restaurant, and a certain skeleton has been coming back again and again. You can't help but wonder... why?

---

“He’s all yours, babe.”

You look up from notes on the wall. You’d like to ask ‘who?’ but both you and Lisa know there was no use. You already knew who it was. You didn’t even have to look out the circular window to check. You just stare at Lisa helplessly.

“Really?” You try, “can’t you just… a bit longer?”

Your words come out a perfect mess. Lisa understands anyway.

“Look… I don’t know how to tell you this (Y/n),” She puts a hand on her hip, “you know I can’t go back out there to him.”

“But…!”

You bite your lip. You know she’s telling the truth. You wish you could tell her to suck it up and go back there, no matter how scared she was but… you’re not taking chances with the current patron sitting in the corner of the bar. No one would.

For Lisa’s… and everyone’s sake, you’re not going to see what he might do if you sent her out to tell him that you won’t be serving him tonight.

You sigh, and take a peek through the window. Though elusive nowadays, it was unmistakable who the man- the skeleton in question was.

Sans was built like a tank, his form hunched over the table. Even sitting on the wide, plush red sofa, he looked like a giant, dwarfing the table and chairs like they were playsets. Monsters were already bigger than humans in general but him… he grew bigger than he used to- at least from what you’ve heard. Not like you knew the mob boss years and years ago before he got his infamous skull injury, and the blown eye in his left socket that was soaked in the blood of those who had crossed him. His mouth was set in a frown, filled with razor sharp teeth- one of which was golden.

The same scary face you saw shrouded in shadows in the alleyway, a sharp bone gripped in his large hand, dripping red.

You fled that night, not quite believing what you’d saw. That you’d just saw a skeleton kill a guy in the back of the restaurant? That it was the mob boss Sans?! He didn’t chase you then, and you hoped that’d be the end of it but then… he showed up to the bar as a patron one night.

You were almost certain then, that he had come to kill you. Especially when your dear friend Lisa had so helpfully told you that he’d asked for you in particular.

“her…” his bony finger had pointed at you. She DID tried to save you, to err on mistake- which one did you mean sir?

But every time you moved, his phalange followed. There was no mistaking who he was asking for.

You remember her panicked voice.

“He asked for you! Specifically!”

“W… huh? Why’d he ask for me? Can… are you sure-”

“YES! And I don’t know WHY!”

As reluctant as you were, you still went to serve him. You asked for his order while your grip on your pencil and notepad got slippery as your palms got sweaty. He took his time ordering, perusing through the menu with great attention, while you were praying that your legs didn’t looks as shaky as they felt. You’d never rush him, of course, even if you hadn’t seen him towering over a dead body.

You took his order, served it (stuttering), and… then he left.

… And came back. Again, and again. Every time, he’d ask for you to serve him. He always stares when you weren’t at his table (and actually, when you were at his table too). You could feel that red eye staring a hole into your back from behind. It was unnerving.

It’s a wonder why a man of his infamy would choose a bar like this. You’ve seen your fair share of criminals in this job- it was an alright-sized bar, and not exactly in the best place in town. You’ve learnt to turn the other cheek whenever they were around (and you were sure you didn’t realize just how many of the patrons were gangsters), pretend you were blind to their… occupation.

None of them had been as scary as Sans, though. In fact, his presence alone was enough to drive away most petty criminals.

This place was nothing special. It’s a wonder why he’d choose this place out of all places, especially for a guy who doesn’t like being seen much.

… Ok, that was a lie. Everyone working knew that he was here for you. But that didn’t explain the why.

It was clear to you now that he wasn’t coming here to kill you for witnessing… what you witnessed (Why was a man like Sans doing in that nothing alleyway anyway?). But if not for that then… why did he keep coming, to keep asking for you? Maybe he had… business around here and he liked the place enough to keep coming?

Whatever it was, he was here for a reason and you just… don’t get it.

You don’t get why he wants you to be the one serving him every time he was around, but you did anyway. It’s been a couple of nights now, but you can’t say you’ve become less nervous over time.

After a small inner pep talk to yourself and wringing your hands, you push open the door, walking into the dining area. There isn’t a lot of people inside, a common occurrence whenever Sans visited. Even if it had been busy before, some people would hurriedly finish up whatever they were doing, paying all at once and leaving. You’ve even seen someone stop before finishing their meal. The rest that stayed sat uncomfortably, trying their best to ignore the menacing air that the skeleton brought with him everywhere he’d go.

It didn’t work, of course. A presence like that wasn’t you could easily ignore.

(You wish you could ignore him.)

You smile awkwardly as you walk to his table, setting his drink down. At least you had a little bit of your work cut out for you, with Lisa taking his drink order. His eye zeroed in on you as soon as he noticed you, and though you’ve been taught it’s rude to not make eye contact, with him it felt like looking him in the eye would be the wrong thing to do.

“Is there anything else you’d like?” you ask, your voice sweet and soft as ever, hiding the sound of your beating heart.

He stares.

He always stares.

You see his pupil dilate a little, then he opens his mouth.

“want…”

Sans was a man of few words. He only said his order, and nothing else. It kept your meetings with him brief- even when it looked like he wanted to say something else, he wouldn’t.

This time, he spaces off for a moment, eye looking away from you. You watch his brows draw together, pinched as he concentrates on a thought. You wish you knew what he was thinking of, especially when his frown starts to peel back into a snarl, like he was angry.

You definitely weren’t expecting a hand around your waist, snatching you a second later.

You squeaked, notepad and pencil clattering to the floor, bumping against his sturdy chest. Everyone heard and turned to look, and as soon as they saw tiny you, sitting on the giant’s lap, practically all of them pointedly turned away. You wish they were still looking now- you were pleading with your eyes, help me I don’t think I’m supposed to be here!

He pushes you here and there, so that you’re sat more comfortably on his lap. Your mind goes blank, your body freezes. You could feel his chest expanding and contracting as he breathes. He sounds much calmer now that you were on his lap. Your breaths are shallow, and stop completely when you feel one arm wrap around your middle, like a restraint. His free hand raises, calling for Lisa, who you’ve just noticed is watching from the corner, clutching her apron, as clueless as you are. She approaches, trying to keep her eyes on the skeleton instead of you.

“... burgers.” he says, simply. She nods, and gives you a glance.

You furrow your brows, and you want to hiss Lisa help me! But as soon as she sees your expression she turns around, avoiding eye contact. You could almost hear her say sorry babe, can’t help you there!

You almost call out to her when a hand lands on your head. You go stiff, and after you take a quick peek at him, you look straight ahead. The monster’s phalanges start petting you, slowly, sinking into your hair, scratching your scalp. Sans let’s out a long breath, brushing your hair. A shiver runs down your neck.

… Well. I think I’ll be here for a while…

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Sitting on the lap of a giant skeleton was certainly an experience. You tried distracting yourself, but it was impossible when you could feel every time Sans breathed. There was nothing you could do but sit there, playing with your apron until it was a crumpled mess, sweating a puddle onto your uniform… and maybe onto Sans’ expensive suit. You couldn’t relax, even though taking away big scary skeleton aside, he was comfortable to sit on, and he was warm… and smelled of rain and embers of a dying cigar.

He ate carefully, always leaning forward (squishing you against his chest) when he took a bite of his burger, making sure the crumbs wouldn’t fall on the top of your head, wiping his hands and his mouth before he leaned back. You could feel him sighing, and since he was the only thing you could notice, it felt like this was the most relaxed he’s ever been while in the bar, his breathing slow. Apparently he really liked your hair, with how his claws kept carding through it, even while he was eating. When his hands were clean, he’d let his hands wander all over you- but nothing untoward. You could feel him tilting his skull forward to look at you, while he thumbed your cheek, and his other hand roamed around your waist and belly. Though you were nervous, you could feel when he rubbed your thigh that it didn’t feel particularly… heated.

He sighs, and you feel the pressure of his skull on the top of your head. It took everything in you not to hunch over and avoid it. You screw your eyes shut when you feel him turn his skull, and it felt like he was… rubbing his cheek on you? Like he was snuggling you? Is… is that what he’s doing?

You’re not sure and your nerves are too frayed to call it that.

He didn’t stop after he finished either, his plate clean. He was still there- and subsequently, you stayed sitting on his lap- even after they closed the bar. It was just him now. Your coworkers kept the lights on just for him, and even most of them have gone.

He’s leaning back on the cushions, and he brought both his arms around you to pull you plush against his chest, almost tucked into his neck. You wondered if this was what a teddy bear would feel like, being hugged.

The bartender was cleaning up in the kitchen. It was just you and him in the dining area.

You swallowed… wondering what he wants to do. It’s past closing, late at night, just the two of you, and his hands were still (gently) rubbing you. They haven’t gone anywhere private but- what if he wanted to? … What if he wasn’t here to kill you but.. wanted you to… you don’t know, service him or something? Did he have unsavory requests for you?

You think that thought might’ve scared you even more than the thought of him killing you.

You startle when he grunts eventually, like he’s addressing you. A giant hand cups your cheeks and against your will they turn pink. Even though you were frightened, even if his touches were unsexual they still felt… intimate.

You squeak for the second time that night when both his hands pick you up, and sets you down on the sofa. You feel a ball form in your throat when he stands up and turns to you, thoughts running with all sorts of ‘what-ifs’. He takes your hand, opening it up, and then…

And then he places a thick wad of cash in it.

“... thank you.” He says, quiet.

You stare at the stack of paper on top of your hand, blinking once, before turning to the skeleton, jumping in your seat.

He was gone, just like that.

He was always quiet, wasn’t he?

You sit there dumbfounded, for what felt like minutes, your lips parted, money still sitting innocently in your hand. You think no one can blame you when the only thing you said after you sat there in silence was a very emphatic “... Huh?”