UnderSwapped {The Drabble Collection}

The Chase {Swapfell Sans x Frisk}

He wonders why he's been chasing her for so long.
She was never going to give up, and he knew it.

[tsundere marshmallow and sassy human woo]
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Sans pressed himself closer to the rough bark of the tree he was hiding behind.
His scarf flapped in the breeze, and he pulled it further up over his face.

The human, his would-be prisoner, was standing a few feet away, looking at the glowing screen of her phone.

He wondered what could be so interesting that it'd keep her standing there for nearly fifteen minutes.

He was also unsure as to why he was taking so long to pounce on her; she'd been standing there in prime pouncing-on position for quite a while, and he had yet to make his presence known.

He thought back to the last confrontation he had had with the  human and her friend, after his failure of a brother led them to one of his sentry posts.

He remembered how protective Frisk (he'd only learned her name to tell the two humans apart, it wasn't because he'd wanted to know) was of her red-haired friend, how she had stood in front of her when he confronted them.

He'd had Papyrus materialize behind the slightly shorter human and grab her before teleporting back to his side, his brother holding the girl close to him in a head lock.

The look on Frisks' face had been the highlight of his day.

What Sans had said to her next only made her expression better.

"Listen closely, human! If you want this mongrel back in one piece, you'll surrender yourself to I, the magnificent Sans, immediately!"

She scowled at that, making him smirk wider.

He hadn't expected her to flip him off and run.

She had bolted towards Snowdin, leaving the two skeletons and their prisoner in the snowy forest.
Sans had never been more furious in his life. He took off after her with a growl and a shouted order at Papyrus to not let go of the red headed human.

He had chased her past snow-capped homes, the misspelled library (just fix the sign, dammit), the tavern, the store, all the way to the bridge spanning the massive chasm that separated more snowy forest from town.

Frisk turned back to him and scowled before sprinting across the bridge and disappearing into the snow-covered woods. He followed after standing there for a time, giving her some distance.
'May as well enjoy the hunt,' he'd thought with a sharp smile.

Which led him to his current position, one he'd been in several times since that first encounter.

Needless to say, the hostage-taking hadn't had much effect on Frisk, and he hadn't kept track of the other human since. For all he knew, Papyrus still had her. Not that he payed any mind, of course.

Papyrus could keep her, for all he cared.

He considered trapping Frisk in a cage of bones, then transporting her to the shed-turned-prison that way.
He decided against it, and went for a more direct approach.
He stepped out from behind the tree, being careful not to make any noise in the crunching snow.

She hadn't noticed him yet.
Good.
Sans stealthily stepped up behind the slightly-taller girl.
He went to summon his bones with a flick of his wrist.

That was when she turned around.

He would've jumped out of his skin, if he'd had any.

Lightning fast, she grabbed his wrists in a death-grip and wrestled him to the ground, upsetting the snow around them as she did.
He struggled, using his thick boots to kick her in the stomach, thighs, arms, anywhere he could reach.
She didn't seem to care about possible bruising, and if she did, she didn't show it.

He eventually stopped, his breathing heavy from exerting so much of his energy fighting her.

She was a lot stronger than she looked.

She loomed over him; her short, choppy, brown hair falling in a curtain around her face.
Her shadowed features bore an expression that screamed determination, if not annoyance.

"Human..." Sans began somewhat shakily, just then noticing the way she sat.

She was basically straddling him.

"W-What are you going to do with me?"

She didn't answer him, instead choosing to stare him down in silence. He began to sweat a little under her gaze, small beads of red running off his skull.
She began to lean closer to him, pressing him further into the snow. Her hair brushed against his face. The sensation was not unpleasant.

"A-Ah...Frisk," he started. "Don't-!"

She pressed her lips against his teeth.

He started, pulling back on instinct. His face erupted in a bright red blush and his sweat ran heavier off his brow.

She moved on to other parts of his face, pressing chaste kisses against his cheeks, his forehead, and any spare skull she could reach.

He grit his teeth together, trying to ignore the pleasant softness of her lips.

'It doesn't  feel good, it does not, get a hold of yourself,' he repeated to himself like a mantra.

It didn't keep him from melting under her touch, however; didn't stop him from arching up to press his armor-clad chest into hers, practically begging for more contact.

He prayed that no-one was listening when he let out a breathy sigh at the lingering kiss she left on his mouth.

She finally pulled away, and he was disgusted at himself when a quiet whine left him, pleading with her to come back.

Frisk got off of him, pulling her legs out of the snow and brushing them off as if she hadn't just made one of the strongest monsters in the Underground a slave to her will.

Sans scrambled up in a very undignified way, slipping in the slush that had melted underneath them.
He brushed the clinging snow off his armor and straitened his scarf. The tinge of red hadn't yet left his cheeks.

"Well, h-human," he said. "I hope you've had your fun, because that will not be happening again."

She smirked and stuck her tongue out at him.

He scowled at her, a rumbling growl sounding in the back of  his throat. He summoned a host of glowing red bones, the bullets casting him in an intimidating light.

"Run."

Frisk's smirk only got wider before she turned and sprinted off down the path.

He ran after her, screaming obscenities and threats the whole way; he barely missed her when he threw his bullets.

He wasn't worried about hitting her; she'd proven more than once how adept she was at dodging.

She had never stopped running from him, and he had never gotten tired of chasing her.

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