#papyrus/reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trashcatmonster · 27 days ago

Text

title: when you fall apart

summary: Your whole face feels sore, sinuses swollen and eyes stinging from the hours of sobbing you’d been doing. You look the mess too, lips dry and cracked, face stained with old, runny mascara and tears. The knotted mess your hair is in isn’t much better.

notes: this ones goin out to @velvetwyrme because they're the main one who really got me to appreciate fell papyrus <3

ao3 link: here!

fic text under cut!

Your whole face feels sore, sinuses swollen and eyes stinging from the hours of sobbing you’d been doing. You look the mess too, lips dry and cracked, face stained with old, runny mascara and tears. The knotted mess your hair is in isn’t much better.

The sound of metal scraping against marble brings your eyes from the mirror to the old pair scissors being pressed hard between your hand and the kitchen sink. Staring at them makes your mouth twist into a harsh scowl.

Your hair tugs slight where he pulls it, and you glance over at him with a questioning hum.

He grins at you, eyes full of loving mirth. “You’re growing your hair out, it looks good.”

Heartbroken rage swells in your gut at the memory, and you take the scissors and a hank of your hair and shear it off with uneven chops. You watch as the strands drop to the sink in the moor, angry tears starting anew. Taking in the uneven hack-job, you snarl and repeat the process on the other side.

Fuck him. You hope he chokes on his regret.

When your hair is as short as you’re willing to risk, you drop the scissors into the sink with your hacked off hair and leave the bathroom.

Only to stop in your tracks, surprise making your face go slack. Your cheeks and forehead tingle at the new expression, but you ignore it in favor of staring at Papyrus standing in the middle of your living room with his hands on his hips.

His eye lights sweep over you, sharp teeth pulling his neutral frown into a downright scowl. Insecurity grips at you suddenly, and while usually you’d brush it off you’re too sore from the recent betrayal to do anything but sink into your shoulders.

“You Look Like Shit,” he comments, and the words feel like a shard of glass in your heart. It doesn’t take much to recover (to break even further) so you do the first thing that comes to mind.

You grab the vase sitting on the hallway table (that hasn’t been filled with flowers in a long time— he hasn’t given you flowers in so long you should have seen this coming—) and chuck it in Papyrus’ direction with an enraged cry.

“Shut up!” you shout, indignation and despair swelling when Papyrus just side steps the vase so it shatters on the wall behind him. You reach for something else— this time a picture frame on your wall (one you were going to take down anyway, it has him in it—) and throw it at Papyrus as well.

“You shut the fuck up, you don’t know anything!” you scream, a snarl of frustration forcing its way out of your raw throat when Papyrus side steps that too.

You’re about to pick up something else— a gorgeous, fake fabergé egg that your mother had gifted you years ago— but red-gloved claws are wrapping around your wrist and pulling the decor out of your shaking hand.

Papyrus’ grip is strong but it’s gentle. He’s not handling you like glass, but he’s taking care because you are fragile right now.

So fragile, in fact, that you take one look at his soft, understanding expression and you feel the feeble hold on your heart fumble. And then your heart breaks fully, ruined sobs shattering from you as you collapse into the skeleton. You’d been crying for hours already, so you’re not really sure where you find the energy or tears to sob into Papyrus’ chest but it’s not like you can control yourself.

He holds you through all of it, one arm settled across your shoulders while his other hand rubs gentle circles over your shirt. It’s more comfort than you’ve had since you found out Ron was cheating on you, and it absolutely wrecks you.

By the time you’ve fully worn yourself out, you’re hiccuping into Papyrus’ shirt, fingers aching at the joints with the tight fists you have resting on his chest. You stare numbly at them, breath shuddering for a second when your thoughts wonder to your boyf— your ex.

The silence rings in your ears, and you consider pulling away from Papyrus for only a moment before he’s doing it himself. The devastated whine that pulls from you is humiliating, but you don’t think you could have stopped it if you tried.

“Hush,” Papyrus commands, placing his hand on your cheek so he can guide you to look him in the face, “I’m Going Nowhere. I Came Here To Assist You, And That Is What I am Going To Do.”

You sniffle, but nod your understanding. Papyrus searches your face for a moment before he’s pulling you in for another hug. You wilt a little into it, but you don’t fight it when he finally releases you and steps back.

“Let’s Start With Your Hair, You’ve Done A Number On It,” he says, and you wrinkle your nose.

“He liked it long,” is your only, croaking comment. Papyrus gives you look you can’t really decipher right now, but nods as he gestures you to follow him back to your bathroom. You’re sitting on the toilet before you even really have a chance to process the change of scenery, Papyrus’ careful fingers gripping your chin and angling your face this way and that.

The make up wipe pressing to your cheek suddenly makes you jolt, but Papyrus doesn’t comment on your surprise and continues cleaning your face. You take the moment to watch him, all the little shifts of his teeth while his eye lights are zeroed in on what he’s doing. He huffs, and you feel like if he had a nose, his nostrils would be flaring right now.

“What Happened? Two Days Ago You Were Telling Me About The Vacation You Were Planning With Him, And Then An Hour Ago I Get A Message From Your Mother Asking Me To Reason With You.”

You grimace at that, brows knitting together as your lips tug down into a scowl. Papyrus tsks at you, patting your face until you sigh and let the expression go. He tells you to look up, and you do while he scrubs at the dried mascara under your eyes.

“His side piece walked up to me while I was at the store,�� looking for a swim suit for that vacation, “and decided to rub it in my face that I ‘couldn’t hold down such a hot piece of ass’, his words.”

Papyrus pauses, the dirty wipe sticking unpleasantly to your skin where he’s pressed it. You chance a look down to get a read on him. He looks stony, his eye lights barely-there pinpricks and the tops of his sockets angled harshly down in a mockery of what your eyebrows were for you.

You feel like it’s a solid minute before he shakes it off and doctors his expression to be carefully neutral.

“Look Up, What Else?”

He’s back to cleaning your face, you obliging the repeated command with a roll of your eyes.

“I told the guy to fuck off, because I trusted Ron and I wasn’t gonna believe some jealous asshole over him. He—” You stop, throat closing up as the memory plays in your mind. Distant but all too present heartbreak making you want to start crying again.

Papyrus doesn’t say anything, just lets you gather yourself to avoid messing up his efforts to take care of you.

“He had a picture pulled up of him and Ron, at—” you swallow hard, “at that cute coffee shop down on sixth.”

Where you and Ron met, you don’t say, but with the way Papyrus’ hand twitches against your cheek, he picks it up anyway. He sighs, tossing the wipe in the trash by the toilet. You watch as he examines your face, letting him move your head around easily.

“You Need A Proper Shower, But It’ll Do Until I Fix Your Hair,” he says, and your heart clenches a little. You’re not really sure what he’s thinking, and that drives you to stop him before he leaves the bathroom for whatever he needs.

Papyrus stops, looking down at where your hand is clutching his wrist then looks to your face. You’re staring at each other, and then Papyrus is sighing and kneeling in front of you. He’s readjusting your grip so he can hold your hands in his, and you just continue to stare it him, eyes burning with unshed tears.

“I Am Sorry You Were Hurt This Way,” he starts, gently squeezing your hands before his thumb starts stroking at one of your palms, “What Ron Has Done To You Is Unforgivable, And I Will Not Be Brushing It Off When It’s Affected You Like this.”

He pauses, eye-lights dropping to your hands and watching his own thumb tracing the crease lines in your skin.

“You deserve better.”

Papyrus is so much quieter than you’re used to, his voice almost a whisper that sends a shudder down your spine with its novelty.

“I’m Going To Help You, If You Let Me,” he finally finishes, and you nod. There’s a second for him to pause, and then Papyrus is leaving the bathroom, likely grabbing the little hair styling kit you keep stashed for moments like this. When you’re upset and willing to ruin your hair just for some kind of change to take the hurt from your shoulders.

You’re feeling… not better, but definitely calmer by the time Papyrus has you cleaned up. Your hair is shorter than you’ve ever let it be, shaved down at the sides and the top in an un-styled mohawk that makes you giggle whenever you shake your head and it flops everywhere.

Papyrus just smiles at you whenever you start goofing with it, rolling his eyes when you stick your tongue out at him. He’s making you dinner now, having found out you haven’t eaten since the afternoon before.

“You’d Fall Apart Without Me,” he had said, and when you shrugged and agreed his cheekbones had been decorated with a pretty red blush that got you snickering.

Falling apart is easier when you have Papyrus with you, you think. He’s at least willing to help you pick up the pieces. Plus, who else is going to ask how you’d like to metaphorically rip your ex’s balls out?

#chittering #papyrus/reader #underfell #underfell papyrus #underfell papyrus/reader #well. its actually #underfell papyrus & reader #because this ones about their friendship more than anything else #but i wont lie and say i didnt write this with the intent of having papyrus be secretly in love with you so #reader has no defined gender #enjoy !

29 notes · View notes

comicalfont · 11 months ago

Text

My Trans Undertale Fanfics on AO3

In light of recent events in the fandom, I thought I would offer some transgender positivity and representation by sharing my Undertale fics I've made about transgender themes, both for characters in the game and reader perspectives. All trans people and identities deserve to be respected for who they are, no exceptions. The characters of Undertale are understanding listeners that would support trans people in their own lovely ways, and there's plenty of trans themes in the game as well that many other content creators have explored.

Gender-Switching Scapulas: Sans accidentally eats a sandwich injected with a substance Alphys has made to give trans people temporarily relief as their true selves while they work through their transitions. It gives Sans the body of a female skeleton for the rest of the day, and she soon finds it to be rather comfortable and freeing. https://archiveofourown.org/works/44578051

Out of a Bind - Papyrus, who's come to realize after emerging to the surface that they're non-binary, is leading a rally for their city's government to vote yes to allowing non-binary gender markers on IDs. You're their special someone, and you help them make the rally possible while soaking up all of their Papyrus-ness in the process. https://archiveofourown.org/works/32164585

Bone-ary Breaker - Non-binary AMAB reader perspective where you open up to Sans, your boyfriend, about your gender identity and not wanting to hurt what you have with him, only to be showered with support; both from him, and from a certain fish lady over the phone. https://archiveofourown.org/works/23791645

Hormones and a Hot Dog - Trans female reader perspective with you celebrating three months on hormones by going to a Chicago-style diner with Sans to satisfy those salt cravings. https://archiveofourown.org/works/30165534

Bathing in Freedom - Trans female reader perspective where you've made enough progress with hormones to try a bathing suit that you feel at home in; once you and Sans have purchased it, you take a trip to a public pool for a sans-ational time of being yourself out and about. https://archiveofourown.org/works/32311720

If any of these fics sound like enjoyable reads to you, I hope you have a great time with them! The Undertale fandom should be a place for all people and identities to have their space and representation in, just as every other fandom should. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

#calcium cat #one small dream #tw transphobes #trans positivity #undertale #sans/reader #papyrus/reader #sans #papyrus #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #trans rights #ut characters are canon trans supporters

122 notes · View notes

skeletonlvr22 · 2 months ago

Text

sweet heat lightning falls - Chapter 11 - Something Good

When Coffee was small, still in stripes with his thumb in his mouth, he would get the overwhelming urge to run away. He can't recall why, really. Despite knowing the rules that his mother had given him, one day, he ran. His brother ended up finding him an hour later, sobbing silently as he wandered, lost, in the snowy woods surrounding Snowdin. Wine, barely a teenager at the time, had dragged him back home.

The feeling never dissipated, though. If anything, it worsened. And growing up underground, there isn't really anywhere to run, anyway.

On the day of his mother's remembrance ceremony, when he was 10, the itch got worse. Yet, he didn't run and let it simmer as he stood, empty, next to his brother, staring down at the urn.

Over the next few hundred years, as Coffee grew older, the itch never went away. When the resets started, the itch got unbearable. Yet, with nowhere to run, stuck in that damned cave, he remained.

Then, he and his brother were sucked into a different universe. A kinder universe. One where Wine wasn't Captain, Coffee wasn't a soldier, and the sun was in the sky. And with the sun hung freely in the sky, Coffee suddenly had everywhere to run.

---

Or: Coffee acquires a bus, a brochure, and a reason to leave Ebott so, naturally, he does. Maybe he'll find something more beyond cavern walls, universal mishaps, and his brother's suffocating reach.

16 notes · View notes

yuckydraws · 1 year ago

Text

A lil oneshot that I'm thinking might become the start of an ongoing fic? We'll see.

Pairing: (HT Sans/reader) with hints of (UT Papyrus/reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Build Up My Heart

It’s fucking hot.

You wipe the sweat off your brow and sigh, looking at all the work you and your team accomplished today. You’ve finally finished the framing for the guest house this family of… rather odd skeletons, have hired you to build. And you understand why.

This already large, cabin-like home is practically overflowing with them.

In your time here, you’ve counted at least twelve.

Twelve people. In one home that, yes, is large, but can’t hold more than maybe five or six bedrooms.

It’s a wonder they haven’t ripped each other’s heads off - you’ve overheard a fight or two when you’ve taken your lunch on the lawn… and man do some of them argue.

When you first started working here, you swore you were going crazy. Almost every time you saw one of them it was one you’ve never seen/met before. Yet they all seem to look alike in some way, though you’ve kept that to yourself. Maybe that’s just how it is for skeleton monsters, who are you to say something ignorant like that?

Sans and Papyrus, the two skeletons you’ve spoken with the most, have been patient with every setback this project has had, though you can almost see the exhaustion in their sockets every time they pop over to talk progress. Makes you wonder if they’re the “peacekeepers” of the home.

But, then again, you suppose you shouldn’t be wondering too much. You’re just here to work, get the job done, and eventually move on to the next. Which will likely be another cookie cutter house in a subdivision.

… you’ll admit, though, that you’re going to miss seeing some of the wacky things they do.

And seeing that absolutely gorgeous garden of theirs.

It’s basically your dream. It packs an impressive variety of fruits and vegetables all neatly growing in raised garden beds. Marigolds are scattered about, likely to keep pests away, and there’s much more flowers where that came from - all of which look happy and content if their blooms are anything to go by. Whoever planned the garden, took convenience into account as well. An array of herbs grow right behind the decorative arch to the entrance of the garden. Just in case anyone just needs to grab a quick little something for a recipe.

Stars, you’d love to trade your apartment windowsill, grown out of an old milk jug, herbs for a lovely stroll to this garden. Who wouldn’t?

It also has a line of fruit trees lining the north side of the garden, likely so as not to block the sunshine. Whether those were here when they purchased the land and they planned the garden around it, or not, you wouldn’t doubt that whoever planned this garden would have the foresight for that.

Currently, ripe peaches hang from one tree, and apple blossoms grow on another. Makes you wonder what the other two trees produce, but they must not be in season at the moment with their bareness.

As if all that wasn’t enough, they also topped off this garden with strewn lights, stone pathways, and goofy gnomes.

A garden like this looks like a full time job, yet you’ve never seen who tends to it. You’ve seen some of the household members pick from it, but never who makes sure the weeds stay away, or who manages the more sensitive plants.

You wonder who it is.

“Hey, didn’t ya hear?” A voice calls you from your thoughts. You pry your gaze away from the garden and meet your coworker’s gaze. “It’s quittin’ time.”

“Yeah, I heard.” You confirm, slipping your gloves off. Not that those gloves protect your hands from the rough calluses littering your palms, but they do help them feel less sore at the end of the day. “The boss wants me to meet with those skeletons to go over the next step.” You thank whatever is up there that you actually have an excuse for your daydreaming this time.

“Right, I forgot that you’re a bigwig supervisor now.” He teases. You roll your eyes, that title hardly means anything yet. “Well, we’re all meetin’ at Al’s for drinks, if ya wanna join later.”

You would rather not.

“We’ll see, thanks Ron.” You neither accept nor decline. He gives somewhat of a salute before slipping away with the rest of the bunch.

Slipping your hardhat off, you await the arrival of your boss, scrolling on your phone in the meantime. It’s not long until you hear the rumble of his truck pulling up, and you quickly pocket the device in your hands.

Out hops Ted, clipboard in hand and that aggravating smile on his face.

He’s nice enough, but something about him has always felt a little fake. However, playing nice with the boss was what got you this promotion, so you’re not about to jeopardize that now. Waving you over, he greets the skeleton brothers who approach him rather quickly. Must have been waiting just like you. Eager wouldn’t begin to explain how much they want this project to move along.

You catch the tail end of greetings, shaking both Sans and Papyrus�� hands as you’re formally introduced (though, you’ve already had multiple conversations with them while working). Your boss cracks some jokes that you half laugh along to, before he finally gets down to business. Listening intently, and chiming in when necessary, you learn what you already knew. Plumbing, HVAC, electrical, etc. needs to happen before you and your team can continue. It’ll be contracted out, yadda yadda yadda.

Just as you’re beginning to think you have no reason to be a part of this conversation, it’s… over. Yeah that was a waste of a half hour, though you suppose you may be giving clients this talk at some point so it’s likely important to hear.

Ted wraps things up, shakes their hands again, and takes his leave. Sans slips away after that, claiming that he has something that he needs to get back to. You almost follow and take your leave as well, but Papyrus, who’s always been more social, gets you pausing.

“WELL, HUMAN, I SUPPOSE WE WON’T BE SEEING YOU FOR A LITTLE BIT.” He says. You’ve long since gotten used to his loud voice. You smile.

“Gonna miss me that bad?” You tease. Oddly enough, a light flush of orange rises to his cheekbones. Interesting

“W-Well… I ALWAYS ENJOY OUR TALKS WHEN I BRING OUT WATER.” He blurts. Ah, yes, the water. Ultimately unneeded, but very much appreciated.

“It’ll be a few weeks, at most.” You remind him. He beams at that.

“YES, I SUPPOSE YOU’RE RIGHT.” He agrees. It warms your heart that he seems to care even that much. It’s not often homeowners even talk to you and your crew, let alone be as kind as Papyrus has been. “WELL, YOU’VE HAD A LONG DAY, I WON’T KEEP YOU.”

You check your watch and wince.

“Yeahhh… I still got to run to the store to get some tomatoes for this recipe I’m making, so I should-”

“WE HAVE TOMATOES!” Papyrus all but blurts. You blink up at him. That orange flush is back.

Huh.

“We U-Uh… WE HAVE THAT GARDEN, I’M SURE YOU’VE SEEN IT!” You tilt your head at his words, not wanting to assume where he’s going with this - he is a client after all. “WE HAVE PLENTY, YOU SHOULD PICK SOME AND SAVE YOURSELF A TRIP.”

At any other jobsite, you’d have quickly refused… but something about his hopeful smile and genuinity of the offer has you softening like butter. Plus… you’d get to see that beautiful garden up close.

“You sure? I don’t want to overstep…”

“POSITIVE! I THINK BEAR IS IN THE GARDEN RIGHT NOW, HE COULD SHOW YOU WHERE THEY’RE PLANTED!”

“Bear?” You ask, wracking your brain for which skeleton he’s referring to. You haven’t been introduced to many of them.

“YOU HAVEN’T MET HIM.” Papyrus says with absolute certainty. “HE AVOIDS TENDING TO IT WHEN YOU GUYS ARE HERE WORKING.”

Oh.

“Well, are you sure he’ll want me wandering in there, then?”

“OH, I’M SURE HE’LL BE ALRIGHT WITH IT, HE JUST… HAS TROUBLE SOCIALLY. HE’S NICE, THOUGH.”

You hesitate. This Bear obviously enjoys gardening in the peace and quiet, who are you to interrupt that? However… it’s nearing 7pm and you’re ravenous. A trip to the store sounds like torture.

As if sensing your dilemma, Papyrus pivots, placing a hand on your shoulder and urges you back around the house. “I’LL GO WITH YOU, TO ASSURE YOU ALL IS WELL.” You just nod and follow along, both because it feels like nothing you do will change his mind, and because of your selfish desire to just get done with this day sooner.

Your workboots sink into the plush clover lawn as you both make your way across the backyard to the garden. Your eyes are captured once again, by said garden, and you almost don’t notice the rather large skeleton tending to the flowerbeds in towards the front until Papyrus speaks from across the short fencing.

“BEAR, IS IT ALRIGHT IF MY FRIEND HERE PICKS SOME TOMATOES?”

You look to where Papyrus is speaking, and the first thing you see is the gaping hole in this skeleton’s head.

Holyfuckisheokay?? How-

You look to Papyrus in concern, but see him just… smiling down at you? Confused, you look back to this skeleton, crouched behind a garden bed and lock eyes (eye?) with the bloated, bright red eye-light filling the socket that isn’t scarred from his head wound. You… can’t tell what he’s thinking, with that blank expression of his.

But seeing as this is apparently normal for him, you’re now worried you’ve offended the guy.

Maybe magic helps monsters survive the seemingly unsurvivable? It’s not like he has any internal organs in his skull… maybe that’s why-

You’re pulled from your thoughts as this apparent behemoth stands up.

Oh.

Oh my.

You’re beginning to understand why he’s called ‘Bear’. He’s certainly a bear in every sense of the word. Large, imposing, intimidating… and did you mention huge?? Now, you aren’t small. You’ve kept up in construction for almost a decade now and it shows… but you still feel like a twig, craning your neck to look up at him.

However, the dirt covered overalls he’s wearing, definitely takes away from some of his initial intimidating demeanor.

“... sure.” He rumbles, blank expression still giving no clue to where his mind is.

Holy fucking baritone-

Papyrus pats you on the back and beams at Bear.

“THANK YOU! I’M GOING TO START ON DINNER, OKAY?” You numbly nod, trying to force your thoughts away from where they want to go. “SEE YOU IN A FEW WEEKS, HUMAN!” Tearing your eyes away from Bear, you wave back to Papyrus and watch him retreat into the home. You wait until he’s inside to take in what you hope is a subtle deep breath.

You about leap into the air, when you turn around and find Bear right behind you, at the entrance of the garden. Clutching your chest, you remind yourself to relax. How’d he get there? And so quietly, too…

And you swear you see this giant quirk the smallest of smiles at your jumpiness.

He thinks he’s funny, huh? Asshole.

You stare up at him, flushing and definitely not pouting. “Ah, uh, thanks for letting me steal some tomatoes, you’re saving me a trip to the store.” You decide to be polite. After all, you were the one to gawk first, perhaps you deserved a bit of payback.

He just grunts.

And you both just… stand there. After a few moments of silence, you speak up.

“So… where are they?” You inquire, glancing around at what you can see of the garden, but it’s hard when you have a seven foot wall of solid skele-man right in front of you.

“where are… what?” He asks.

You tilt your head. He just said…

“The tomatoes?” You try, maybe he spaced out when Papyrus asked him if it was okay… and when you just mentioned them a second ago?

He seems to recall something, if the twitch of his bone brows are to say much. Nodding, he turns and lumbers through the rows of flowerbeds. Assuming that’s an invitation for you to follow, you rush to fall into step behind him and his large strides… but, you quickly fall behind as you start to admire the garden’s beauty up close. Your steps slow as you stroll past the growing cauliflower plants. These can be incredibly hard to grow… how did he…?

You gingerly touch one of the leaves, and look up to Bear, who’s stopped and turned to look at what’s keeping you.

“How do you get these to grow so well?” You ask, smiling excitedly at him. He blinks, large shoulders relaxing a bit, as if he was expecting you to ask something else.

He reaches into his overall pocket, and slips out what looks like a very well-loved notebook. You watch curiously, but patiently as he opens it and flips through it. You’re unsure what the notebook has to do with his answer but you’re willing to wait and find out.

He pauses on a page and looks back to you, seeming to ponder something before deciding ‘fuck it’, as he approaches you and hands the book to you. It’s got various dirt stains, and some pages have been taped back in where they’ve come loose, so you treat it with care as you take it from his grasp. And there, on the page you see notes in small, neat handwriting. Research notes, with drawings and everything. The topic being the little cauliflower plant you’re standing next to.

Some of it seems to just be information taken from the internet and put in short form, while others seems to be from actual trial and error. You skim his writing, noticing that he’s scratched some things out but towards the end, he seems to have figured out the perfect schedule for the plant to thrive.

You’re tempted to flip through the book and read more, but you refrain. That seems like an invasion of privacy.

“Wow, that’s really cool that you go as far to take all these notes. You must really enjoy this, huh?” You ask, handing it back to him. He stares at it in his hands for a moment, before putting it back in his pocket.

He just nods.

“Not much of a talker?” You tease lightheartedly, trying to see if you can get any sort of… anything out of this guy other than blank staring and slightly intimidating silence.

He shrugs, and turns back around, leading you again.

But you’re not done.

“You’ve really built something beautiful here, ya know?” You continue. He just keeps walking. “This is amazing! It could almost be considered a small farm! Though, I guess with all your housemates to feed, it’s just a garden, huh?”

Still no answer, but you swear he starts walking a little faster if the way you have to almost jog to keep up is anything to go by.

“The flowers too? Man, this must be a full time job that, I’ll be honest, I’m a little jealous of! I’d be in here all day if I was able to! This is absolutely gorgeous, Bear! Do you take care of this all by yourself? You really have a talent, I hope you know that.”

Suddenly Bear stops, leaving you to walk right into his back… which given his height means you faceplant right into his spine. He barely budges, yet the force of it knocks you on your butt. You grunt and rub at your smarting nose. Damn, this dude is solid.

His red light stares down at you, from the corner of his good socket. He doesn’t apologize, or offer you a hand, just simply points to the tomato plant in front of him.

“... tomato.” He mutters, then takes his leave, stepping over your sprawled legs and heading back to the flower bed he was working on.

… huh, you could’ve sworn, you saw the faintest hints of blue on his cheekbones.

Chuckling to yourself, and once again, thinking that these skeletons are silly, you pick yourself up and dust off your pants. Not that. You really need to dust off your already dirty work clothes, but it feels right.

You lean over the tomato plants in question, finding quite a little variety in the garden bed. Roma, cherry, black krim, campari - and those are just the ones you can name. Dinner in this house must be full of all the most delicious, fresh produce.

Once again, you’re a little jealous.

You pick a few ripe and tasty looking romas, and call it good. While you’d love to experiment with some of the others, this was a kind offer from a friend and given to you by an acquaintance, you’re not about to take advantage of either of them. Holding your goods protectively to you, you wander back to the entrance of the garden, where Bear is once again knelt in front of one of the flowerbeds, tugging at some stubborn looking weeds.

He glances at you as you approach him. You hold up your three tomatoes and grin at him. “Thank you for these, you saved me a trip to the store!” A nod is all you get. “And… speaking of the store, I feel bad just taking these, I have cash?”

That gets him to fully turn his skull to look at you, and you take that as a yes.

“This is about a pound, I’d say, so how about I just give you an even $5?” You offer. Yet again, he just stares.

“... I mean I can look up how much it is at the store or you can give me a price too, if you’d rather…” You ramble, feeling a little awkward under that stare of his. You just met the guy today, and he’s proving to be extremely hard to read.

You’re about to just reach into your pocket and pull out a $10 (way too much, but you’d pay anything to get out of this awkward silence), when your stomach growls rather loudly. His stare moves to your belly.

“Ah, uh, yeah it’s dinner time, huh?” You try to joke it off. His light flits back to your face, and finally, he just waves you off.

“... You don’t want money?” You ask tentatively. He shakes his head.

“... go home.” He rumbles, yet his tone isn’t rude, “go eat.” He adds. Your shoulders release tension you didn’t even quite realize was there and the awkwardness finally fading, and you offer him a grateful smile.

“Thank you, it’s been a long day. I really appreciate it.”

He hums.

“... and I hope you know you don’t have to wait until our team leaves to tend to your garden. This is your home, we’re just working here.”

He raises a skele-brow at your words, looking unimpressed as he gestures to the sizable hole in his skull. You hold back a wince as you remember your reaction. You know the guys you work with, and you also know that your reaction is probably going to be the most tame one he gets.

“Right… I uh, I’m really sorry for how I reacted, I thought it was a recent injury and I was worried you needed an ambulance or something cause humans can’t survive something like that, but that was really insensitive.” You murmur. His stare seems to slightly soften at that, but you barely notice that as an idea pops in your brain. Instantly, you brighten. “Wait here! I’ve got an idea, I will be right back!”

And with that, you start a careful jog to your old, beat up truck - not wanting to drop your precious produce. Once there, you deposit your small bounty into your upside down hardhat to keep them from rolling around, and then pop open your rather dirt-covered glove department. You’ve never really found the point in cleaning your truck that often when you just dirty it everyday after work. Digging through the mess of papers there, your hands find that knit fabric they were looking for.

“Ah hah!” You exclaim excitedly, closing your vehicle’s door and rushing back around the house to the garden that you left Bear at. He’s since moved on to a different flowerbed, but no amount of kneeling would hide that big frame of his and he’s rather easy to spot because of it.

Hearing the crunches on your loud footsteps in the gravel, he turns, seeming a little surprised that you actually came back.

You hold up the beanie in your hand, grinning at him as you let him connect the dots, it was one of your first crochet projects… and you misread the amount of links you’d need for it, resulting in a beanie that was ridiculously large for your head. You had meant to toss it or take it apart for the yarn, but it found its way into your glove department, and that’s where it’s stayed for almost a year.

However, it seems to be the perfect size for this skeleton giant in front of you.

“Wanna see if it fits?” You ask, stepping closer. In your excitement, you don’t connect the dots that his skull might be a no-touching zone, and reach to slip it on. He quickly leans away from you, eyeing the beanie warily.

“Oh, right. Sorry, here.” You hold it out in an offer. He hesitantly takes it, staring at it for a long moment before glancing up to you. “It’ll stretch, if you’re worried about it catching those edges.” You assure him, not sure how sensitive the area around his injury is, but figuring it’s better safe than sorry.

After a few more moments of silence (that are beginning to feel a little less awkward), he slowly and carefully slips the beanie on his skull. He makes sure to stretch it and hold it a little ways away on his injured side of his skull, and soon it’s sitting nicely on his head.

A perfect fit.

“There! Now it’s hidden!” You say. He tilts his head. “I know it’s not fair that you can’t just waltz out here in broad daylight while we’re here without worrying about feeling judged, but it’s also not fair to have to hole yourself inside and wait until we leave to do your thing. I mean, it’s almost dark and you’ve got a lot more to do, and these string lights only illuminate so much.” You explain.

He nods, slipping it off and moving to hand it back to you, as if he’s not aware it’s a gift.

“Keep it, think of this as a trade for the yummy tomatoes! Plus, I think you look cute in it.” You say, smiling again as you see the slight blue return to his face. “If you decide you don’t like it, feel free to do whatever you’d like with it, it’s not like it’ll fit my head anyways.” You say with a little laugh.

A low rumbling noise escapes Bear. You tilt your head, and it doesn’t click until you see the smile on his face and his shoulders bouncing slightly. He’s chuckling at you.

You ignore the growing warmth on your face at hearing more of that very attractive voice of his, and let out a few little giggles of your own, closing your eyes as you do.

So, you’re none the wiser when Bear slips the beanie off of his head and moves closer to you in that silent way he does. It’s not until he plops the article onto you that you sputter and open your eyes, only to be met with your lashes brushing against the yarn and your vision being hindered by the way the beanie practically reaches the bottom of your nose. Reaching up, you lift it up and find Bear grinning at you.

“... no, it doesn’t… does it?”

He’s making fun of you. Again.

Jokingly pouting, you slip it off and toss it back at him, where it bounces off his chest harmlessly and falls into his lap. He guffaws at that, his little chuckles turning into a deep belly laughter.

It’s infectious, and soon, you’re joining in again.

It’s not until your stomach makes your hunger loudly well known again, that he sobers, looking serious once again.

“... you need… to eat.” He reminds you.

You smile sheepishly, and try not to be too disappointed at having to leave. You were just getting him outta his shell a bit!

“Yeah, I do. Your dinner will be ready soon, too, I bet.” You say, shifting your weight on your feet as you stall just a moment longer. “I uh, hope to see more of you.”

He just stares again, but there’s a sharpness missing in his light.

“Goodnight, Bear.” You say, pivoting to take your leave. He doesn’t say anything right away, and you just assume he won’t, given what you’ve learned about him today.

But as you start to walk back to your truck, you hear a quiet, “goodnight.” from Bear. You smile again, turning to give him a little wave that you don’t see if he returns as you round the corner of the house.

#yucky writes #yucky yaks #oneshot #drabble #but not really #undertale #ut papyrus #papyrus #horrortale #ht sans #bear #papyrus/reader #htsans/reader #if i do make this an ongoing fic it'll be a reverse harem #i deffo have ideas but I still gotta actually ya know. plan a plot if it's gonna be ongoing so we'll see!

86 notes · View notes

hungy-artist · 1 year ago

Text

Take this!! *Throws art at you*

These are some of the headers I’ve made for my fanfiction about Papyrus! A reader insert love story!

I’m interested in having more art in my fic! I want to commission artists but any art is appreciated and I’d love to see it added to my fic!

#undertale #papyrus #papyrus undertale #sans #romance #fanfiction #my artwork #papyrus/reader #papyrus x reader

99 notes · View notes

reds-fluff-extravaganza · 1 year ago

Note

Please may I have a Undertale one shot of when you (Papyrus's female human S/O) had to break it to Papyrus in the most nicest way possible that his pasta was a health hazard..and you knew this because he often put non food seasonings in them and it wasn't exactly hygienic or safe. You weren't being critical to be mean..you were only pointing out the health hazards for the sake of everyone else who were too nice to say anything and had food poisoning from his dishes. You are more than happy to teach him how to cook properly though..

I really hope this is alright, and that I made reader more gender neutral! Sorry if the ending seems rushed. Also I didn’t write Papyrus’ text in all caps, and sorry if he seems OOC, it’s been a while since I’ve written for him!

You and Papyrus have been together for almost three years now, and you absolutely adored practically everything about him, how sweet and kind he is, how he’s always there for you when you need him, and how he’s always there to comfort you when you’re upset, and was always happy to help with anything you needed help with.

However, there was one thing that he needed help with, and that… was his cooking skills. While he’s not the worst, he’s… definitely not the best when it comes to cooking, and you know exactly why. Papyrus needs a better teacher when it comes to cooking, and you were willing to help him learn. Unfortunately… you first had to tell him your thoughts, since no one else was going to. You knew others, more specifically, his brother, Sans, would do whatever they could to avoid eating whatever he made. As much as Sans loved his brother, that was the one thing he didn’t love.

Sans had told you that you were going to have to be the one to tell him, as you were his significant other, he would listen to you more than him, which… you didn’t really believe that. You just figured he was either too lazy to tell him himself, or afraid of telling him. Or both. You weren’t too sure, but you weren’t going to argue with him, since you knew it would just end with him leaving, or something along those lines.

You sighed softly as you made your way to the kitchen, where you knew your boyfriend would be, since it was close to dinner time and all.

“Papyrus..?” You called out to the taller skeleton brother as you stepped into the kitchen.

“Ah! There you are, Y/n! I was actually about to look for you!”

“I see. Well, here I am.” You walked over to him, noticing the cooking pot on the counter, which contained tonight’s dinner. You didn’t realize that you had made a bit of a face at it.

Unfortunately for you, it seems he noticed the look on your face. “Is something the matter, Y/n?” You flinched a bit as you looked back at Papyrus.

Well, it’s now or never. You had to take a moment think about what you were about to say.

“Papyrus, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Oh..? What is it, Y/n?”

“If I tell you, will you promise you won’t be mad at me?”

“I won’t get mad, Y/n! I love you too much to ever get mad at you!”

“Well, if you’re so sure…” you took a breath, “it’s about… your cooking.”

“Hmm? What about it?” He sounded a bit confused, and a little nervous.

“I know you’ve been learning from Undyne, and that’s great!… what’s not so great is that… while I know you look up to her and what not… she’s been teaching you all wrong.”

“What makes you say that?” You don’t say anything as you looked back over to the big cooking pot that was on the counter, looking into it to see what was in it.

“I’m going to say this in the nicest way possible…” you grabbed a big fork, poking around at the ‘pasta’ in the pot, noticing the inedible, non-food seasonings and what not. “It’s not safe for consumption.”

“I… I see.” He sounded rather sad, which made you feel so bad.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.. but if I didn’t say it, no one else was going to..!” You did feel bad that you had to tell him this, but you had to! Or at least… that’s what you had thought, in order to help him.

“Well…” His voice brought you back from your thoughts. “If that is the case… would you be willing to teach me?” He sounded a bit hopeful now, which made you internally relieved. Of course you would teach him!

“I would love to teach you, Papyrus. Now come on, I’ll show you a better way to make spaghetti. And a few other things, but we can get to that later.” You smiled softly and you dumped out what was in the pot before washing it out to use it once more before filling it up with water and setting it on the stove. You had gotten out a package of hamburger (or turkey meat, I like both!) as well as a separate pot for it, and started cooking the meat.

“Just follow my directions, and you’ll get better in no time, Paps!” You said, looking up at him, who looked quite interested in what you were doing at the moment.

“Of course! I will learn what I can from you!” He pulled you into a hug, smiling.

“And I’ll teach you everything I know.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek, making him blush a soft orange. You chuckled a bit and went back to cooking, Papyrus taking in everything you were doing, making mental notes, and even physical ones!

“You don’t need to be rough with your ingredients, that is… probably the worst thing you can do, actually.” You told him as you were now straining the noodles, glancing back at him. “We really don’t need to be burning the house down.” You placed the noodles back in the pot, which was now off the stove.

“Alright, and everything is done.” You walked to the living room and called out, “Sans, get your ass down here, food’s ready!”

“*what about my ass? Or rather lack thereof?” You turned around to see the shorter brother with a plate in hand.

“You never cease to amaze me, Sans.” You laughed a bit as you went to grab a plate.

“*i try my best, Y/n.” He chuckled a bit, “*this, uh, looks really good actually. thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem! We both made it, or rather I made it and Papyrus helped.”

“*well, alright. Thanks again.” And with that, he left the kitchen.

“Alright, let’s get a plate ourselves and eat.” You grabbed a plate for you both, handing one to him. You still didn’t understand how and why they both were able to eat, but you’ve gotten to the point where you don’t even question it anymore.

Once you had a plate made, you glanced over as Papyrus took a bite, you swore you saw stars in his sockets, making you smile softly.

“Good?” You asked him and he nodded in response, looking at you,

“This is amazing, Y/n..! Thank you… for teaching me how to make it better. I will remember this!”

“Of course, Paps! It’s not s problem at all, you know I love helping you, since you’re always helping me out. I love you, Paps.”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

“Now come on, let’s not let this food get cold.” You went to the small table and ate together, silently enjoying the food, and each other’s company.

#undertale #sfw #papyrus #undertale papyrus #papyrus/reader #papyrus x reader #x reader #reader insert #fluff #fluff oneshot #x reader oneshot #oneshot #undertale x reader

46 notes · View notes

popatochisssp · 9 months ago

Note

I would absolutely love to hear more about the UFF boys! Maybe some general romance headcanons?

Good taste, those are some excellent boys~ (biased af) 😏

Some romance things about Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans) and Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus)…

Carmine is very physically affectionate, and as his partner you’re sure to find that out, quickly.

Unless you tell him otherwise, consider any physical contact fair game. He loves slinging his arm around you, leaning against you, bumping into you (hip-checks, elbow nudges, shoulder shoves, et cetera)… and of course if you happen to turn your back on him or bend over, some of his favorites: pinching, goosing, and the occasional playful smack.

Hey, how’s a man to keep his hands to himself when you’re right there, looking like that? 😩

Except y’know… you don’t really have to be looking spectacular to wow him. For all the attitude he has and the big game he talks, he’s actually pretty easily impressed, by basically anything you do.

Wear an outfit that shows just a sliver more skin than usual? He’ll do an actual double-take and genuinely have to restrain himself from saying something embarrassing like ‘yowza’ out loud. Change up the fragrance you wear? He’ll lean in for a whiff and tell you it smells amazing. New shoes? Oh baby, you’re hot stuff in those, you gotta strut those things around town!

He’s crazy for you and there’s not much you can do that doesn’t drive him wild. You’re a total knockout and he wants to be tuned into your frequency all the time!

Actually, after awhile with you… he pretty much is.

Being close to you, having your soul and your feelings and thoughts so near (and dear), he starts to get very familiar with the flavor of them and it gets easier for him to—occasionally, instinctively—pluck some of those surface thoughts out of your head.

He’ll absently finish sentences for you, go get ‘the thing’ for you without any further elaboration on what it is, and be the absolute hero to say “you wanna get chinese tonight?” when you were only silently pondering how good wontons would be right now.

He can’t really go any deeper than that, he’s not a full-blown psychic or anything, but he’s certainly capable of catching your drift without a lot of effort or words involved and it can be damn nice to have a partner on hand who’s thinking what you’re thinking—or can be in a snap.

As for Tank…

Well, he’s certainly not as audacious as his brother is, considerably more restrained.

…Maybe a bit too restrained, actually.

His life being…what it’s been, up to this point, he’s not especially comfortable being the one to initiate things—conversation, activities, affection (physical or otherwise).

Your hint that he might be wanting some of these things from you is his intense and unbroken gaze. He tends to stare quite a bit, especially when he’s admiring something, and you’re the epicenter of all his forbidden(?) thoughts about wanting, so you’re bound to be his focal point often.

Maybe eventually he’ll get bold enough to just ask, but if you catch his eye-sockets lingering somewhere—your hair, your hand, your knee—an explicit invitation to reach out and touch won’t go awry.

And, if you happen to like any of those invited touches and want to increase your odds of getting more, do speak up!

Positive feedback goes over great with him: the more clear you make it for him that you like something he’s done, the greater the chance of a repeat performance. If you say you like a shirt he’s wearing, you’ll be seeing him wear it a lot more often. If you thank him for doing a random chore, you’ll find him doing it every time it comes up. A kiss for giving you a ride somewhere? Lots more offers of rides and hopeful, expectant looks when you arrive at your destination!

There’s very little he wouldn’t do if he knew it would impress you or make you happy—he loves getting attention and praise and affection from you and he’s downright hooked on it.

Anything at all from you is considered an important treasured possession, and that shows in how he pretty much never gets rid of things you give him. Big things, of course, no partner worth their salt would toss a meaningful gift without good reason, but he keeps it all: the mini dollar-store puzzle he finished in the first five minutes, the tee too threadbare from use to wear out in public anymore, the heart you folded out of a gum wrapper on a whim one day…

Even if it’s been ages he’s guaranteed to still have it, whether you deemed it a worthy enough token for him to have kept or not. It was from you, for him, and therefore it is special and important and won’t be thrown away if he has a say.

Honestly, he’s just a total lovesick puppy over you, and it’s only by the grace of his naturally stony default expression that the entire world doesn’t know it instantly just to look at him.

#anonymous #headcanons #underfell fruition #uff!sans #uff!papyrus #sans/reader #papyrus/reader

64 notes · View notes