Can I take you to Dinner? Mafi-fell!Sans x Reader. [COMPLETED]

Dealing plans

"Here we are sir,"

The almost lead-weight crate was slammed down on the bar-stooled bench with a heavy thud. The skeleton barely acknowledged you from his hunched slump, tilting his head slightly to watch as you busied yourself with signing the date down on your pad of paper. "That's your fee for this month, would you like to order anything else today??" You smiled sweetly in question. Maybe order some regard for others? And a new bell while you're at it?! It was then the skeleton chuckled slightly, a low, slurring rumble, as if sensing your thoughts before he began gently. "An answer would be nice, little lady." He said, referring to your earlier blank.

You pinked with shame, lowering your paper pad slightly as you stared at him, unnerved. He leisurely leaned against the back rest of the stool before a deep voice intruded: "COME NOW SANS, THAT'S NO WAY TO SPEAK TO A LADY. THOSE ATROCIOUS MANNERS MUST BE APOLOGISED FOR..." You both turned, the doctor hunched back over the untouched black coffee. Sans sighed in defeat, swerving back slightly to loom over you: "Sorry." He mumbled, averting eye-contact. You were astonished at his sudden demure attitude, nodding slowly as if to accept his apology.

"MUCH BETTER." The doctor smirked, as if enjoying the embarrassment he was causing the seething skeleton beside him. You weren't sure just what relationship these two had but the man in black made the earlier threat look like a whimpering dog with it's shaking tail between it's legs. "NOW, WOULD YOU BE AS SO KIND MY DEAR, TO FETCH SOME NAPKINS FOR US?? MY BROTHER'S A BIT OF A SLOB IN CASE YOU CANT TELL. DRESSES EVERY INCH A GENTLEMAN BUT LACKS SUFFICIENT TABLE MANNERS.."

You could see the scarlet-clad skeleton quaking in silent all-consuming rage. You decided it was best to take your leave. "O-Of course sir." You nodded before scampering off to the pass before the bigger could explode. As soon as you disappeared, Sans whipped furiously to the figure, seething: "What was that for?!!!" He hissed through gritted teeth, like air hissing through a pressure pump. The Doctor simply smiled in disregard. "I SIMPLY LOVE EMBARRASSING YOU IN FRONT OF YOUR... INTERESTS..." Sans growled before he stopped, frowning before turning slowly to see the whole cafe, silent and staring.

"WHAT'RE YA LOOKIN' AT?!!! TALK OR SOMETHING!!!" He burst with a furious roar, the restaurant suddenly picking up the fallen conversation, forced jitters and laughs mingling in the air. With a gruff grunt of satisfaction, he swivelled back around, hunching over his drenched pancakes, taking his knife in hand and stabbing the stack primally. He opened his jaw to welcome the slab of goodness that was mustard-drenched pancakes, humming in a sense of delight that betrayed him as he chewed. A pointed cough came from his side, he turned, doctor smirking as if to say: 'I told you so, slob.' "Shuddup!" Sans growled lowly, wiping mustard messily from the corner of his jaw, canines now yellowed.

Out of the corner of his eye, something white appeared, him turning his head, brow raised until you were held in his gaze, extending a napkin. He continued to eye you before shifting to the napkin, taking the white cloth almost hesitantly. He murmured his thanks before cleaning himself up sloppily as the Doctor bowed his head in somewhat disgrace over his companion. "Is there anything else I can do for you gentlemen??" You asked hesitantly, not wanting to disturb the seemingly temporary peace any further.

Sans murmured something inaudible before earning  a swift slap upside the head by the Doctor. The bulky skeleton grinned, rubbing his now tender skull: "Whaat? She was askin'!" He boomed heartily, still chuckling as the doctor shook his head in disgust.  "APOLOGIES FOR HIS INSOLENCE..." Assuming the caliber of the humour, you flushed with a bitter frown. Glaring, you clutched the pad of paper tightly and turned on your heel without a word, trooping off to the pass, unaware of the sockets centred on your retreating back.

-

"YOU HONESTLY DON'T EXPECT ANY WOMAN TO FALL FOR YOU IN THAT REGARD WITH THAT ATTITUDE-" "She don't have to fall for me, and she was askin' that was too easy!" "I DON'T THINK SHE'D TAKE KINDLY TO THE WORDS 'SUCK ME' COMING FROM THE MAN WHO JUST PUMMELLED HER BOSS. YOUR MORALES ARE DISGUSTINGLY LACKING SANS." "Eh, if she knows what's good for her, she'll do it without me havin' to say." Blink. "...DID YOU SEE THE WAY SHE TURNED FROM YOU?" Frown. "I'M GUESSING YOU'RE BLIND THEN." "Mph. I don't have to worry about it. " Sans grinned, leaning back comfortably in his stool.

The lean skeleton lowered his lethal, violet gaze to Sans, silent. "....... YOU'VE PLANNED SOMETHING, HAVEN'T YOU?" Sans simply grinned widely. "DON'T EXPECT ME TO HOUSE ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR PETS, HOWEVER POLITE AND KIND." "What? Psh, No bro, listen, I ain't wasting my time on a prude, I'd take her out but that's all." Sans chuckled lowly, as one would at their own joke. It was an obvious lie. "Nah, nah- I just look forwards to.... gettin' to know each other in this, quaint little establishment they got goin' on in here." The doctor sighed, saying nothing further. Once Sans was interested, there was nothing stopping him, even he knew that.

Sans on the other hand, was somewhere else, already imagining a delicious little scene, your pretty little head, messy, soft (h/c) hair
tightly tangled round his ivory phalanges as he bobbed you up and down between his legs. Rosy lips and a tongue to match.. Oh... He liked that... He was never normally this graphic but he liked what he saw.

He liked it a lot.

-

A generous forty dollar bill was slapped onto the wooden counter, Sans throwing a glance to Grillby still crackling from the floor. "Meet me outside at '10. You're late, then it's your head and restaurant. Capiche?" A weak thumbs up was all he needed as he walked out the door, grinning to himself with one last bellow of: "SEE YA GRILLBY! TELL THE LITTLE LADY I SAID 'BYE'!"  The doctor tailed him out of the cafe in slow silence, shaking his head.

A deal had been struck, and there was no way of running.