A Place Of Despair (UF!Sans x Depressed!Reader)

39; soulbeat ;39

(This chapter may include things that may make readers uncomfortable, including peer pressure, rape, and sexual acts being depicted.)
Please be advised.

Sans groaned, staring at the mustard bottle in front of him with a glare that could kill. Everyone in the bar stared at him uneasily, noticing that he wasn't here with (y/n), meaning he was going to be his usual, irritable self. Grillby kept his distance, waiting for some other signal as to what the skeleton was thinking about. Contrary to what most thought, his glared has striking differences depending on what was happening. He was was deep in thought- he had hardly even drank the tangy condiment he had been staring down all morning.

He covered his face, which was now ridden with a crimson blush, by putting it onto the bar and covering it with his arm.

I just can't stop thinking about her... first her wanting to kiss me, then me walking in on her in the bath? not to mention the way she looked up at me... the universe is testing me.

"Ah, I understand now," Grillby said, coming up behind the bar. He was mindlessly cleaning a glass, grinning cockily. Sans grunted in response, hoping the man of fire would think he was drunk and leave. "You've come to understand my infatuation with (y/n)."

"you want to get into her pants and keep her as a pet," Sans snarled, his head shooting up as he slammed his fist on the bar. "that is not the same thing."

"So you admit you have some sort of attraction to her?" Grillby asked, grinning wider. Sans flinched, face getting redder. He made the flame in his eye burn brighter in an attempt to cover it up.

"I ain't never said that."

"I believe you just did."

"well you 'believe' wrong," he growled.

"I don't believe you."

"I don't give a shit."

"You're much more lively now that she's around," Grillby commented, continuing to poke the bear. "It's been quite a while since you've entertained such a conversation."

"then this conversation is over."

"Hm, fine then," Grillby leaned on the bar, feigning being in thought. "You know, being a human in the Underground must be quite difficult. I wonder how she'll earn a living?"

Sans took a swig of the mustard, pretending to be uninterested. He didn't like what Grillby was implying. His attentive listening was surely not portrayed in his expression.

"Perhaps I'll approach Mettaton and his strip motel about giving her a position, lord knows he'd get a lot more business from me..." Grillby hummed, licking his lips. Sans grit his teeth. "Or maybe I'll keep her for myself, offer her a position as a waitress... I've got some uniforms in the back that would wonderfully-"

"speak to her and I'll kill you on the spot," Sans growled dangerously, grabbing the man by the collar and getting in his face. Grillby grinned in satisfaction.

"And there it is, your confession to your interest," Grillby hummed.

"you got no right to be in my business," Sans huffed, shoving the man away from him. "(y/n) shouldn't have to be bothered with sex freaks like you. she's got enough going on."

"Omigosh, Sannnsss!" The drunk bunny girl came up behind him, hugging him from behind and plopping her head on his shoulder. She ran her fingers lazily along the inner hem of his basketball shorts. "I've fiiiinally got you alone! You've been with that whore for soooo long."