II A light in the dark II

Of Scars And Soft Hands (Underfell Papyrus x reader)

!!(TW for injuries and injury insecurity)!!

You traced the sharp lines of papyrus' angular skull, consumed by every little nick and beautiful line. It was uncommon that he would let you do this, since he was somewhat uncomfortable with letting anyone this close to him, even you. This had made things a little tough for you (since you were very big into shows of physical affection) but you of course respected his boundaries.

Today was different though. He had come up behind you while you were making the stew for tonight's dinner, startling you half to death. He had told you in his usual short manner that he was "Ready", and fumed when you had asked him what he was talking about. But you had eventually gotten here; on the couch, resting on top of the large, lanky skeleton, chest to rib cage, his phalanges resting lightly on your back, and your fingers softly caressing his crimson-tinted skull.

Though, it didn't seem to be as calming for him as you had hoped. Your lips, which had been slightly parted in wonder, pursed as you noticed how tense the skeleton was getting whenever your gentle finger-tips would get close to the cracks that cut through his eye-socket. You pulled your hands away slowly, as not to startle him, muttering softly, "I'm sorry, does that hurt?" He tensed more and shook his head slightly.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong? I don't want to be doing anything that would make you uncomfortable."

He flushed a deeper red, averting his eye lights.

In a hushed tone (which was weird for your usually loud, rough boyfriend), he uttered, "You Don't Think They're... Repulsive?"

Your (e/c) eyes widened.

"What?"

"Nevermind." he answered sharply.

"Papyrus- wait. Do you mean your scars?"

He remained silent, eyelights averted and skull a deep red.

Your voice softened, "Oh, darling, of course not. What ever would make you think such a thing?"

He relaxed slightly at this, looking hesitant before stating, "I Know That, While Down Here Wounds Are Worn As A Sign Of Strength And Experience, On the Surface They Can Be Considered... Unappealing, To Potential Mates."

You waited a few beats to see if he would say anything more, he didn't, again looking purposefully away from your worried gaze.

"Papyrus. I've never thought your scars were weird or gross, I love every part of you." 

You smiled reassuringly, "I see your scars as a sort of roadmap of things that you've gotten through in your life...like this one," you reached back up and traced the slight scar on the side of his jawbone,

"You told me this was from the time you and Sans were roughhousing when you were kids, and you fell off the porch into the woodpile," you chuckled lightly.

The large skeleton's eyelights were now trained on you,

Continuing, you brought your hand further up to outline the nick right above his right eye socket and smiled warmly.

"I remember this one,"

You looked down at him for confirmation that you could continue. He nodded slightly, the red hue on his cheekbones only deepening.

"It's from the time you stopped Undyne from capturing me."

You ran your thumb along it softly, lost in thought.

"You were so brave, you always have been."

You ran your thumbs gently along the sides of his warm cheekbones, looking now to the two cracks that ran through his left eye socket, but making sure not to touch them

"These are just more proof of that fact."

Pressing your forehead to his and closing your eyes, you firmly stated,

"I wouldn't want you to be or look any different, Papyrus. I love you for who you are right now, and I will continue to. There's no one else I could imagine loving the way that I love you."

You pulled back and kissed his nasal bone. When you finally looked down at him again, you flushed a bit yourself; He wore an expression of absolute adoration, his eyelights fuzzy, looking up at you and a gentle smile curved along his features. It was so rare that he gave genuine smiles, he was usually so restrictive with showing his emotions, which was understandable considering his upbringing and the underground in general, but it was still jarring. Trying your best not to stare at the rare sight you smiled tenderly back at the large skeleton. You sat there in comfortable silence for a bit, just taking each other in. 

Finally, after a while of this, he brought his phalange from your waist to guide your hand (with surprising gentleness), resting it above his left eye socket, directly on where the beginning of his scars was. He was still a bit tense, you knew the way he'd gotten them was tough to bring up. That's not to say you weren't though, you had gone almost completely rigid as you held your hand there, you held your breath for a few moments before finally asking, "May I?"

He snorted a little you were so cute, stating "Obviously."

You smirked at this, there was your Pap. You ran your fingertips gingerly along the scars, being sure to check for any signs of discomfort as you did so. You couldn't help letting your amazement show as you traced along the jagged bone, it was mesmerizing in its haunting beauty. Though you knew this was only a tiny peek into what your boyfriend had been through. It pained you to imagine how much he had hurt (and to a large extent still was hurting), but you wanted to help him through it. You wanted so badly for him to see what you saw in him. Not only the ruthlessness and the power, but the beauty and the gentleness, the kindness and bravery.

But today, you were content to be here with him. Tracing gently along his scars and telling him how great he was. Watching as he untensed little by little until he was nearly asleep. 

When you were almost sure he was out, you shifted yourself in an attempt to get up without waking him, letting out a surprised squeak when you felt his large phalange wrap lightly around your forearm.

"Where Are You Going?" He asked, clearly still half-asleep.

You kissed his forehead, stating,

"The stews' going to get cold."

This clearly wasn't a good enough reason for him as you were promptly taken back into the warm pile of bones and fine cashmere that was your boyfriend's arms, him muttering something about how cold stew was probably a delicacy somewhere.

You smiled resignedly, snuggling into his ribcage; You were probably going to be here awhile.