Would That Make You Happy?

Frisk is your child, the result of a teen pregnancy, but they've always been told that you're their older sister. In an effort to get away from your own abusive mother, the two of you end up falling into the Underground, where Sans is startled by this abrupt change in what had become a predictable pattern of events. Maybe your presence is what is needed to stop the endless cycle of Resets.

After many struggles, both internal and external, you and your found family reach the surface, only to face even more difficulties from the society you weren't sure you'd ever see again. You meet new friends and encounter people from your past, though for good or ill, you're not sure. Sometimes it's difficult to tell kindness from cunning.

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57. Bound by You

"I have definitely underestimated Mettaton," you say, surveying your suite. Your room door opens up into a small sitting room through which you can see the bedroom and its massive bed —bigger than a king! Littering the two rooms (you can't even imagine the bathroom) are Mettatons.

Throw pillows, the lamps, even the pictures on the walls... You take another look at the bed and you're just happy that he isn't all over the crimson bedspread. But, if you overlook the sheer tackiness of having Mettaton quite literally all over the room, it's pretty nice. Actually, it's very nice. Even with your shoes on you can feel the plush, cream carpet and everything looks brand new.

You turn at the sound of Sans setting the heavy key to the room down on the coffee table, watching him straighten up and shrug off his blazer. He might be a skeleton, but he's built so broad (not to mention how thick his bones are compared to yours) that he manages to fill out that collared shirt in a way that has your pulse quickening. You watch his shoulders shift beneath two layers of fabric, staring as he throws the jacket over the back of an armchair. Caught where you're standing, entranced, you feel your cheeks start to burn when he turns to look at you.

Sans raises a brow, the corner of his mouth quirking up a little. "you were saying something about mettaton?" he asks, his voice canted low in a way that goes straight to the lowest parts of your belly.

Is it warm in here? You blink. "Uh, was I?" you say, stumbling over the words enough to make you blush even more.

Sans's smile widens, eyes bright as they give you an appreciative sweep from head to toe. After a lingering moment he turns his attention to his wrists, raising his hands as he starts pulling at his cufflinks. He jerks his chin towards the bedroom. "why don't you take off those shoes? go sit down. get comfortable."

You leave him in the sitting room, smoothing your skirts along the back of your thighs as you take a seat on the foot of the bed. Kicking your shoes off to the side, you fight the urge to tuck your knees up to your chest as a giddy rush of anticipation thrills through your nerves. Running bare toes through the thick carpet, you look up as Sans follows you into the bedroom. The cufflinks are gone and as he walks towards you he's rolling up his sleeves, watching you intently as you follow the motions of his hands with your eyes.

It's such a simple thing but damn if it doesn't make your mouth start to water. You swallow. From your seat on the bed he's taller than you and you have to look up at him. You've never felt like he was smaller than you, even though he's shorter. He's broad and sturdy and and he makes you feel safe, but right now you feel small in the best way possible.

"i want you to relax and let me take care of you," he says with an intensity that makes you melt.

"Okay," you breathe, reaching out to hook the fingers of one hand on the waist of his slacks.

He circles his hand gently but firmly around your wrist, pulling your hand away. He sets it down on the bed, then reaches up to your hair. You feel him pull out the long pins and the silk flower, tossing them aside as he focuses on loosening your long waves so that they fan out across your back. His fingers scrape across your scalp in a way that makes you hum, and he runs the strands through his hands as you tilt your head back.

You're putty in his hands as he smooths your hair out of your face, cupping your jaw with both hands as he pauses to just look at you. Biting your lip, you love the way his eyes flick down to the movement then back up. "don't worry about me. don't worry about anything. just enjoy yourself and let me handle everything. i need you to do this for me."

"Yes," you say. There's a tension in your chest that unwinds, and all at once you realize that it's been days since you felt like you could give away everything and just let yourself relax. Right here, right now, with Sans, there's nothing to worry about. It's easy to loosen your grip on it all when Sans is there to hold you up. "Yes please."

He traces the fingers of his left hand down the curve of your neck, following your shoulder before dropping to your breast. You tilt your head into Sans's other hand, exposing more of your throat as he lowers his head to trail little nipping bites down the line of your jaw. You turn enough to press open-mouthed kisses along his bony palm. His teeth graze down the side of your neck, making you shiver as he drags the edges against your skin. Sliding from your breast to your waist, the gauzy fabric is a weak barrier between the warm press of his fingers as he squeezes your hip. Then, with almost agonizing slowness, he opens his mouth and takes the flesh at the join of shoulder and neck between his teeth and bites. Your gasp bottoms out into a moan as he releases you only to shift and bite down again, holding you tight. Then he eases away, his soft, smooth tongue lapping at tender flesh.

Sans dips down to your collarbone so you tip your head back, leaning back on your hands to hold yourself upright. He alternates between teeth and tongue across your chest, pushing the necklace aside. As he makes his way to the other side of your neck he slips his hand around to the back of your dress to tug down the zipper. He helps you shrug the dress's straps down your arms, then lifts your hips with one hand so he can pull the dress off and away, a puddle of red and silver on the floor.

Sans pauses long enough to take off his shoes, and as he does so you reach up to start unbuttoning his waistcoat. He lets you ease it off of him, then gives you a throaty laugh as you take hold of the end of his tie and pull him down so you can pepper his face in wet kisses. Love swells in your chest and you ache for him between your legs as you stop kissing him so you can scrape your teeth along the length of his jaw. He shivers and pulls away, looking down at you with hooded eyes as he reaches up to tug on the knot of his tie. Your lips curve into a sultry smile as you watch him, wrapping your arms around his chest as he slips the loosened tie over his head and discards it.

He runs his hands from the sides of your breasts and down to your waist and up again, the smooth warmth of his bones familiar against your skin. He's smiling down at you, blue left eye bright as he runs the tip of his magic tongue along the edges of his teeth and the tips of his canines. You make a pleased hum deep in your chest in response.

"as pretty as this new underwear is, it seems uncomfortable. better take it off of you," he says, feeling his voice in your chest as he pinches the hooks of your bra to unclasp them. He's gotten better at that over the past few months, that's for certain.

You have to let him go in order for him to get rid of your bra and he takes the opportunity to slide you further onto the bed before slipping your panties down your legs. Then he follows you onto the bed, still mostly dressed as he settles in next to you. You roll on your side and tug at the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning the top two buttons so you can reach his neck with your lips. Sans groans and tilts his head to the side, drawing in a ragged breath as your tongue laps at the bumps and ridges of the vertebrae. Smiling, you're pleased with yourself as you elicit a soft moan when you graze bone with your teeth.

But then he's pushing you gently away, pinning you to the bed as he straddles you. You take a second to pull your hair out from under your back, fanning it beside your head as he watches, looking down at you as blue stains his cheekbones. Reaching up, you cup your hands under his then slide your fingers up his forearms, stopping when you reach his rolled-up sleeves. He pulls his arms away and takes hold of your hands, leaning forward to pin them on either side of you.

He stares at you so intensely that you think he's about to say something, but instead he lowers his head to your breast, circling the nipple with his tongue and then swiping across, making you gasp and arch your back. Taking it gently between his teeth, he tugs just enough not to hurt as he swirls the tip of his tongue in a rough circle that has you squirming. Flushed and desperate, you rock your hips under him, letting out a weak cry as he moves to your other breast. You give a weak press against his hands but he's still holding you in place, taking his time. It's driving you crazy.

"Sans, please," you whine, shifting under him.

"ok, babe. i've got you," he murmurs against your skin, letting go of your hands so that he can scoot down towards your hips. He leans back, dragging his fingers down your sides as he goes, making you squirm more as he watches you with a satisfied look on his face.

You and Sans make a practiced shift, you pulling your legs out from between his as he settles between yours, cupping your thighs and humming. Resting down on his chest, he has one of your legs over his shoulder, holding it there and leaning his head against it as he looks up at you. The fingers of his other hand find your folds, teasing around your entrance in slow, languid circles until you let out another whine. Then, you let out a low moan as he slides inside of you.

He curls his fingers, stroking you as you squeeze your eyes shut and gasp. The hand on your leg lets go and reaches up to cup your breast, circling your nipple with his thumb to spike your pleasure even higher. You twist to the side to make it easier for him to reach. Bucking your hips, you're desperate for his tongue on your clit but he's not doing it. You take hold of the arm at your breast with one hand, your other sliding down to take care of yourself, but before you can reach something warm and smooth circles both your wrists and presses them above your head. Startled and more than a little aroused, you crane your neck to look and find yourself restrained by bands of glowing, blue magic.

Sans is giving you a smug grin as you look down at him, curling his fingers inside of you as he nips at your inner thigh. You can't help the soft groan that escapes you as you press down against his hand. "i told you to let me take care of you," he says, and you can feel his breath against your skin.

"I feel like you've been holding out on me," you say, letting your head fall back against the bed. "How come you've never done anything like this before?"

"my hands were busy," he says, followed by a low chuckle.

You're about to retort when you feel his tongue press against you and slowly drag over your clit, and any words you might have spoken die on your lips as you moan. Already wound so tight by the time he circles the bundle of nerves, you know it won't take much longer for you to reach your peak. He alternates between slow, wide strokes and focused flicks of his tongue. No longer curling his fingers, he withdraws and thrusts back inside of you in time with his thumb on your nipple. Soon enough you're letting out a ragged moan and arching your back, Sans's hand pulling away from your breast to grip hard at your side, focusing his ministrations to draw out your orgasm before backing off to ease you through it as long as possible.

Trembling as you slowly start to relax, you expect to find the magic around your wrists gone but it's not. You flex your fingers and look down at Sans as his tongue slides back behind his teeth and he pushes himself up onto his knees, grinning down at you. You smile back, laughing weakly at the pleased look in his face. He always looks so happy and satisfied with himself when he gets you to come. It's adorable.

"that's the look i love," he says, humming as he starts to undo the buttons on his shirt. You try to sit up and help but you're still held down by his magic. His blue eye darts up to your wrists and back down to your face, smile widening a little.

"Oh yeah?" you say, too fuzzy to think of anything better.

"yeah," he agrees, tugging his shirt out from his pants and shrugging it off. His fingers get to work on his belt. "definitely one of my favorites."

"And what are your other favorites?" You shift your hips back and forth, running your toes up and down the sides of his feet. Part of you is so contented that you could probably doze off if he let you... but you don't want him to let you. You're watching him pull the belt free from his trousers.

"hmm... probably that little embarrassed look you make right after you snort. i've been fond of that since before i ever saw what you look like after i get you to come for me," he murmurs, waggling an eyebrow at you. You giggle. "and that one right there. when i make you laugh."

"I love you," you say, nudging his hips with your knees.

"i love you too, babe," he says, pushing his pants down past his pelvis before leaning down to nip at your thighs. You sigh as he grabs your legs, pressing in closer to bite down before letting go. You have the distinct impression you're going to be covered in marks in the morning, but you're finding it difficult to care.

With a little bit of difficulty he gets his trousers past his knees while kneeling and reaches around behind him to yank them off, followed by his socks. As he turns back around to face you his left eye flares brighter for a moment and his cock manifests from his pelvis. The two of you have spent a lot of time perfecting the shape and size of it over the past three months, and you think that it's just about perfect. Different positions tend to do better with slight alterations, but he's learning to anticipate that too. In the early days it was a bit... plain. Like he knew the sort of general shape but none of the details. But why would he? He hadn't needed one before. This is something he made for you, to please you. Sure he gets pleasure from it too, since —as he explained it— it's basically an extension of his magic and his Soul. But he doesn't need it. You've learned firsthand how to get him to come without anything but your two bodies and careful attention to his lower spine.

If he let you go you might show him how much you've learned, but he seems to have other intentions. Not that you mind too much.

"comfortable?" he asks, glancing up at your hands before he bends over you to nip at the soft skin of your stomach, trailing weak bites towards your side and up to your ribs.

Circling your legs around his back, you hook your knees on the wings of his pelvis, pulling him closer to you. "Worried about me?"

"just making sure. don't be afraid to tell me if there's something you don't like," he says, tilting his head up to look at your face even as his tongue flicks over your nipple. You squirm, sucking in a breath.

"I know. I will," you say, tugging him closer again and bucking your hips.

He lets out a low chuckle, finally settling into position over you. Rocking his hips a little, he brushes against your folds and watches your face as you frown down at him.

"I thought you said you were going to take care of me, not tease me," you whine.

"sorry, babe. sometimes i can't help it," he says, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and giving you a few shallow bites. He follows with a slow swipe of his tongue, then reaches down with one hand to take hold of your hip.

Slowly, carefully, he eases inside of you, filling you up as he breathes out a moan next to your ear. Your head presses back into the mattress, biting your lip and then gasping as his fingers dig into your side, lifting you up so he can angle deeper. He pulls back, all the way to the tip before thrusting back in, making you cry out as he hits your already-sensitive inner walls. You try to reach for him but you can't, a small desperate sound escaping you.

He groans your name and you feel your hands go free as he begins a steady rhythm, bent forward over you with one hand twisted into the bedspread next to you. You reach up to circle him, hooking your fingers between his ribs. You hold yourself against him, hard bones against soft flesh. Lowering his head next to yours, he turns into your cheek before you press open-mouthed kisses along his cheekbone and jaw.

He's close. You can tell by the ragged way he's breathing and how his fingers are tensing even tighter on your hip. He thrusts once, twice more and then he moans and goes still, shuddering. You let your fingers relax, stroking his sides as he slowly starts to unravel. After a moment he lets go of your side and you unwrap yourself from his hips, letting him collapse onto the bed beside you.

You turn to look at him, smiling as he blinks hard to bring back the little white lights in his eyes. He lets out a heavy, satisfied sigh, meeting your gaze with a bleary smile.

"this whole weekend. this trip. this was a good idea," he says, reaching out with a shaky hand to cup your cheek.

You cover his hand, nodding. "Definitely."

"you know what would make this all even better?" he asks, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You laugh at the look on his face, smiling. "What?"

"overpriced room service."

   
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