Gunpoint (Sans X Reader Fanfic)

Chapter 2

Your face reddened before a thunderous laugh rocked your body. As you pulled your hand away, you spotted the whoopee cushion in the palm of his hand. You tamed your laugh down to a snicker and smiled at him.

"Nice! I haven't seen a whoopee cushion since highschool. My dad used to hide them all around the home." You praised.

He chuckled as he removed the toy, stuffing it into his jacket pocket.

"Heh, it's nice to meet someone who appreciates the classics as much as I do." He chimed. "Especially someone like you."

You raised a brow and puckered your lip, hip popped sassily as you retorted, "What do ya mean, someone like me?"

"I don't mean human girls. I mean I didn't expect the ambassador of humans to be so... easygoing? I expected your government to elect some old guy with views more aged than fine cheddar."

You rolled your eyes and smiled. "Believe me, I was just as surprised as you are now when I was chosen."

"Well yeah! You're still in college." Frisk cut in.

For some reason, you found yourself embarrassed as he shared that small bit of information. You shot him a sideways look before looking back to Sans. He seemed intrigued by the statement, raising a questioning brow. "They let a college student decide the fate between to civilizations? Doesn't that seem a bit stupid, not that you seem like you couldn't handle it."

You shrugged and let your gaze roll down to your hands. "Well, they let anyone apply from the age of 18 to 30. The requirements where really low set. They say it's because they wanted younger blood because it'll be more flexible to the circumstances, but I myself believe it's because if I die due to my job there'll be a million other applicants that could replace me."

Frisk groaned and rolled his eyes. "You're such a pessimist  (Y/N)."

You shook your head. "No I'm not, I'm just stating facts."

Sans chuckled and clapped you on the back, offering a warm, friendly smile. "Well, I'm liking the looks of you as ambassador. As far as I can tell, you seem like just the right person. How can I dislike someone who was kind enough to drive the opposing ambassador home?"

You smiled gratefully and nodded.

"HUMANS! SANS! COME SIT DOWN. FOOD IS READY!" Papyrus called, ending your conversation.

You snickered as Frisk took your hand, leading you into the kitchen. Toriel glanced at you and smiled as she pulled another chair around the table. They all sat together, as though it was a timed rehearsal. Compared to their easy movement, you felt foreign and clunky. You sat in your chair and crossed your bare feet below you as you looked down at your own mismatched plate.

You weren't used to having so much conversation around the dinner table. You either ate alone or silently among your mother and father. Your eyes followed the path of the dishes, adding your own the mix as they were passed around. On one side, you passed your plate to Frisk, while on your other side you took a plate from Papyrus. You had been silently assigned the task of distributing corn, which you did dutifully.

Once all the plates had been returned to their person, they immediately dove into the meal. You glanced at the plate, confused by the hodgepodge. There was a mix of foods, ranging from spaghetti to mashed potatoes. You couldn't help but choke down a giggle as you twirled the pasta around your fork and laid it against your tongue.

It took until you felt Frisk tug on your arm that you looked up. "Uh, what? I'm sorry, I wasn't really listening." You apologized.

Frisk snickered before repeating himself. "I was asking about what you thought of the pasta. You've been so quiet I almost thought you disappeared."