Lord, Have Mercy! (Undertale | Sans x Reader)

Chapter Four | Make a Splash! - Part One

         Today was supposed to be your last meeting with Toriel.

         Emphasis on supposed.

         Her case turned out to be much more complex than expected.

         And now, it's five in the evening, and you're about to step into the party she'd been texting you all week about, with a tray of vegetarian stir-fry below a plate of soft-baked vanilla cookies.

         You're also dressed to impress – hopefully so, at least – though you can't handle how with each monster you meet, a brand-new compliment is thrown at you. Some even go beyond your appearance and into topics you hadn't thought possible, like how nice your taste in makeup and fashion is by a robot man, how lovely your colour coordination is by a spider woman, and how much your efforts with Toriel are appreciated by various other monsters. You haven't even made it into the building, and yet you're already wanting to leave. Receiving comments left and right on the tasty scent of the food, your choice of clothing, and your actions with Toriel are way too many things to focus on. They overload your mind to the point where you only snap out of it when that same guy from yesterday night at the bar calls you by your name. 

         What's his name? 

         You sure don't want to remember.

         Because, holy crap, you don't want to crush on him yet – minus the yet.

         Absolutely no 'yets' are allowed.

         And even less do you want him to be a part of your dreams.

         Having to see him often for the rest of the year was already torture enough.

         "Hey," he calls out. "You good?"

         Forget his name.

         You repeat that over and over and over, until you've apparently finished whatever patience he has left to keep waiting by afar. 

         He walks over and takes the heaviest tray of food from your hands when you stay in place, legs stuck to the floor you've stepped on since getting out of the car. You shouldn't be this nervous, but you're the teacher of the damn school their children will be attending – and the monster ambassador, to top it all off. In their minds, you're likely some sort of menacing figure bound to crush their hopes and dreams. In reality, you're a pathetic excuse for a human being who can't even order takeout without stuttering. It doesn't help that Frisk already knows how you really are, and the guy with you, too.

         "...nk you."

         "What?"

         You cover your face with your free hand and frown. "Thank you," you repeat, huffing. "I'm still not used to this. I'm sorry."

         He barely touches your shoulder, and you almost feel your soul leave your body right there and then.

         Calm down, you desperate weirdo, you tell yourself.

         But it doesn't exactly work as well as you hope.

         On the contrary, you make eye contact and scream internally as his hand stays on your shoulder.

         No more.

         You can't handle another one of these.

         'Fifty crushes and zero kisses' is a record-breaking statement.