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undertale-writing-times · 1 year

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“You’re delirious. You forgot my name today.” sick prompt with boss (preferably sick s/o but you do what u like)

Whooo! Boss!

Hell yeah.

I hope you like this :3

Boss was annoyed.

Not exactly at his datemate, but more at the idea of what was happening.

You see, something happened and his datemate, Y/n, decided that it would be the best time to get sick!

And Boss...

He hated it when people were sick. He thought that it was gross, and hard to handle. He didn’t even like his siblings getting sick.

Crank, his oldest sibling, liked to tease him and say that it was because he was the baby of the family and was a little bitch. Boss thought that it didn’t make sense, and also told him off for cursing at him like that.

Crank just laughed at him! Ugh.

He thought that it was fine, Y/n told him it was fine, but then he found them passed out in the living room and when he woke them up, they called him Bones.

It was quite offensive...

He huffed with annoyance and took them into their bedroom to set them into their bed. He then went to go and get something for them to eat, muttering under his breath in annoyance. What the hell were they doing? Telling him that they were fine yet passing out! Liar.

He hated it whenever they lied to him.

It made him feel... strange.

He walks back into their bedroom once he made them their food, and pauses when he saw that they were awake.

”Boss? What... What are you doing? Why am I here?“ they ask, looking around. Their cheeks were flushed and they looked way too pale... ugh, gross.

”You’re sick; you need to rest“

”I’m not sick“ They whine, then cough into their blanket. He shutters at the sound. He hated it when people were sick! Damn it. Get better already.

“You’re delirious. You forgot my name today.“ He walks over, and sets the bowl of soup down. ”Now eat then go to sleep after takin’ the damn medicine I put on the tray. I don’t want you to be sick for too long“

”Is it because you care about me?“ they tease, making kissy sounds with their lips.

Boss lets out a soft sound of annoyance and turns his head away, blushing lightly. ”Don’t be ridiculous, Y/n“ and with that, he turns away and hurries out of the room going to clean his hands.

He would... check on them later.

#He has a faint thing of Nosophobia #Nosophobia #Sickness #Sick #Sick Fic #Undertale #undertale alternate timeline #undertale alternate universe #undertale ask blog #undertale imagines #undertale au #mafia #Mafiafell #Mafiafell Papyrus #Boss #Boss X Reader #Reader X Boss #Boss is the youngest in the family #which I find funny

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cvbullshit · 5 months

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~SNAKE DREAM~

~SNAKE DREAM~

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nyktoon · 2 years

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Dummies in love~! Ft. @scrambledmeggys very handsome and charming Mafia AU Boss and Red 😏💖 They all simpin! Might come back and clean these up more and add color later, but for now I’m still pretty happy with the sketches -^^-

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twentydaysofdrabbles · 9 months

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The Concierge's Day Off - Nightcap (Part 35)

(Warning: NSFW content below)

If you thought that Sans was horny before, it doesn't compare to how he is now. The skeleton monster lunges towards you with a growl, his bloodied claws straining against your grip with renewed strength. His bones are blazing hot, the joints and spaces between glowing such a bright red that he almost illuminates the darkness around you.

This man is not subtle at all.

At least he's not too loud, you think as you are forced a step back, planting your foot behind you to brace yourself against his strength. Still.

"No," you chide him softly, now having to struggle a little to keep his hands away from you without the help of your own bodyweight.

Sans sneers at you, his tongue flicking out to lick his teeth, his eye lights still blown wide with lust. "'ll wash it fer ya later, sweets," he pants. There is a soft little crackling sound as he flexes his claws, the now congealed blood starting to dry and flake off his phalanxes. "gon' be dry soon--"

A soft little chuckle escapes you and you grunt softly as he pushes against you again, though this time you use his momentum to spin him around, his back pressed against your chest, your hands crossing his arms over his front. "That may be, but it will still rub off and stain," you say softly, your lips pressed against where his ear would be if he had one. "You wouldn't want to ruin my clothes, do you Sans?"

You speak at the right volume, low enough not to carry, loud enough for your words to vibrate over his skull, through his bones. Sans stiffens in your arms, his back arching, pressing his head against your lips as he pants quickly and shallowly. "f-fuck--" he chokes out, grinding his hips back into yours. It takes another nudge of your nose, a squeeze of his forearms, before he hisses, "n-no, don't wanna mess up yer fucken white outfit--"

There's definitely a mocking quality to his words and his tone, but you can ignore it. At least for now.

Then he mumbles, "dunno why you'd come out in white 'f all colours, gonna get that shit dirty--"

Your stifled laugh comes out in an impolite snort, one that you have to swing your head to the side so you don't inadvertently deafen him. "It was a gift." An order.

Despite how lust-addled he is, Sans nevertheless is able to read between the lines. He grins, struggles anew to try and drag his soiled fingers over your coat, your pants, anything he can reach. "i ain't gonna let this night end without leavin' ya a li'l goodbye present~" he taunts you breathlessly, even as you step forward, then again, to press him up against the wall.

"You can try, Sans," you murmur into the back of his skull, laving a single, wet trail down to where his spine connects to his skull.

The skeleton monster lets out a helpless groan, shuddering in your arms, his hands reaching out to brace himself before he faceplants into the brick. Given that he doesn't make another play to touch your clothes, you hesitantly let his forearms go. Slowly, ever so slowly. But when he does nothing other than to claw at the brick just over his shoulders, you let him go completely.

With your hands now free, you snake them up and down his chest. His mysterious belly that has just a little less give than a human one. The bulge in his trousers. The last of them nets you a low groan as Sans tips his head, pressing his forehead against the cold brick. His blush is bright enough that it illuminates the brick, bouncing light back on you. Giving you a great view of his silhouette.

Smiling against the back of his skull, you suckle at the join of his spine and skull. Dip your tongue into the glowing red space just to see what kind of response it elicits. And of course, you pair it with a hand closing tightly over his erection.

Doing both of that gets you a guttural moan and a jerk, a squirm. "oh bitchin' stars...!" he croaks out, claws dragging against the brick, scoring lines of white. "stars y-yeah!"

Sans is thick in your hand. Thick enough that it makes you salivate. Firm. Hot. Throbbing. You hum softly against the fins of his spine as you explore him slowly, languidly. Ah, but of course you cannot forget why you're doing this.

The skeleton monster growls and ruts into your hand, hissing, "fucken--get on with it!" You might have taken issue with his phrasing if not for the desperate, breathy quality of his voice, for the way he looks at you over his shoulder with his crimson eye lights blown wide.

You smile. "Very well." With deft fingers, you undo his belt, his trousers, his fly, and slip one hand in to close it around him. You don't stand on ceremony, don't make him wait. Well, that's not true. You do make him wait for as long as it takes for you to feel the inhuman texture of his cock through your gloves. To memorise the length and width of him, the shape of his tip. The wetness that oozes forth when you squeeze the head.

Sans can only swear through gritted fangs. His claws dig into the brick, carving out fragments that rain on the metal fire escape with a quiet clatter. "fffuck...your handsaauhhh--" he doesn't even manage to finish whatever he's intending to say.

You chuckle quietly against the back of his head, turning just enough that you can press your cheek to it. Just enough that you can catch glowing crimson eyes staring back from the darkness. "My hands?" you say quietly, feeling him shudder at your voice. Hands that squeeze and pull at his cock, tugging it out of his trousers and into the cold air. Casting light on the bricks and illuminating him even more.

"ohh fuckkkk meeee~" he groans, thighs shaking, knees bending.

A soft laugh, a kiss. You press yourself up harder against his back, one hand slipping in under his shirt to toy with the curve of his lowermost rung of ribs, the point of his sternum. Your hands and lips take on a similar rhythm - stroking his cock, stroking his bones, stroking his skull.

Sans is rendered to putty under your ministrations. Moaning, trembling putty.

The peeper on the ground level doesn't seem to be in much better condition, if the red glow on their face and in their trousers is any indication.

Very, very interesting.

But you'll deal with that later. Right now, you have a needy skeleton in your arms, mumbling and moaning for you.

"nnnghh--" he groans through gritted teeth, pushing back against you, then thrusting his hips forward in a jilted thrust. "mmmah--mah spine--"

You kiss where his ear would be, murmuring, "Hmm? Your spine?" And of course, you reach further into the cage of his ribs, tripping gloved fingers over the segmented vertebrae.

His cock jumps in your hand, weeping clear, red magic from its tip. Wetting your fingers, turning the soft fabric of your gloves grippy. It only makes the slide hotter for Sans, makes him jump and throb. You smile and capitalise on it, taking your thumb to rub it around the tip, over and over and over, until your gloved fingers are fully saturated.

Sans is sagging in your arms by now, his claws hanging onto the brick wall for dear life. "s--grab mah fucken--aahhnnnffuck--l-lumbar--" Sans sounds as if he had been clubbed over the head, his words tripping on his once-silver tongue.

"Ah, I understand," you purr with a hungry smile.

A warm, gloved hand closes around the curve of Sans' lumbar vertebrae a hand-width from his sacrum, and that appears to be enough to tip the man over.

"ohmymotherfuckingstarsohfuc-" Sans' weight drops suddenly, as if his legs gives out. In your haste to steady him, your grip tightens on his spine, your hand on his cock squeezing on his tip in a vice grip, and he cries out loud enough to rival a tomcat's caterwauling some streets over. "f-aaaauck!--"

Sans swells in your grip, growing impossibly thicker, harder. Just for a brief moment. Because he cums with a silent scream, his fanged maw parting wide to let forth a thick stream of steam. His cock, too, lets forth several spurts of thick, red-tinged magic.

With the death grip that you have on his cockhead, most of it spatters against your glove, but one or two spatters against the brick wall in front of him. All of it combined to create a great mess that slowly seeps through the grate of the fire escape under your feet.

Sans shudders against you, his entire weight sagging in your arms and against the wall. His chest heaves for breath, his forehead pressed against his forearms, his claws sunk into the brick wall that now sports various slashes and claw marks, all of them at shoulder height.

"ho-holy fuck--" he wheezes. But he jolts nearly upright as you tug on his spine gently to ease him up. "auuggh--sweetheart--'s sensitive." He's whining now.

"I know," you murmur, taking your hand away from his spine and wrapping it around his chest instead to hold him close to you. "But you were slipping." He won't be now with your arm around him.

The hand around his cock similar eases away, cold and damp from his spend. As much as you would like to use both hands to steady him, you'd hate to dirty his clothes with your magic-soaked glove.

"don't...don't worry 'bout makin' a mess." Sans' voice is rough from all the noise he had been making. "'ve looked worse."

You have to hide your smile against his skull. "Nevertheless."

When he is able to steady himself on the brick wall, you reach into your pocket with your clean hand to retrieve a clean pair of gloves. The dirtied ones you peel off and fold into the other to contain the mess. And in the blink of an eye you have on clean gloves, and with a gentle touch you zip and button and belt Sans back up again, his cock having disappeared along with the blush on his face.

With Sans' focus on keeping himself upright and your hands busy neatening him up, you have a brief moment to glance down where the peeper had been. They're still there, the bright glow in their trousers blocked by skeletal hands. This time, though, they seem to notice that you've spotted them and they startle. A bright glow of red on their face is all you see, bobbing and weaving in the darkness as they flee down the alleyway towards the restaurant.

"so...uh..." Sans' voice draws your attention back to him.

"Yes?"

He looks nervous now, perhaps even a bit shy. Which is a little surprising considering you just had his cock in your hands. "i'll take ya back ta th' hotel?" His phalanges, still coated in dried, flaking blood, tug at the collar of his shirt. "bit late now."

You take a moment to look at the sky, then at your watch. Ah, it is almost time for bed. A nod, a smile. "I would appreciate it, Sans."

The skeleton monster beams at you, his features soft after his orgasm. "hold on tight then, sweets."

The world disappears from around you, leaving only the puddle of red-tinged magic and claw marks on the wall as evidence that either of you had been there.

#undertale fics #mafiafell au #spicy #mafiafell sans x reader #sans x reader #mafiafell sans #reader insert #ficlet #the concierge #drabble #big boi boss was watching ey #wonder if sans figured out they got spotted #or if he even cares #the concierge definitely doesnt care

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ivyprism · 4 months

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Skelesona Jobs: Revamped and New Part 1

Warnings: Mafia, violence, etc.

Hydrangea is the quiet writer and librarian of a local library.

Jade is a bookstore owner.

Juliette is a bar tender.

Hyacinth is a dance teacher.

Calluna is a choreographer.

Hattie is a social media influencer and dancer.

Harper is a mechanic, writer, and actress. She is also the Heiress of the Hollow Theatre.

Harleen owns a bar and is an actress.

Honor is a mafia leader.

Rowana is a mafia leader.

Bellum is a mafia leader.

Jane is a social media influencer.

Jemma is a social media influencer.

Jillian is a social media influencer.

Hadria is a dance teacher.

Aspera is a final boss.

Hydra is a small time writer and she works at a library.

Alchemilla designs prosthetics, is an actress, and is a mechanic.

Protea is a daycare teacher.

Lathyrus is an English professor.

Hayley is a hero.

Hemlock is a villain.

Esme is a guard and handmaiden for Dione.

Ambretta is a well known painter.

Celandine is a boxer and fighter.

Holliane and Harmony are both queens.

Poinsettia is a pirate captain.

Silene is a guardian dragon of several villages and kingdoms.

Bergenia guards kingdoms and villages.

Angelonia is an infleuncer and a protector of kingdoms.

Edelweiss is the female lead of a book.

Larkspur is a writer and painter.

Helvine owns a wine company.

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delicioustreewitch · 1 year

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They are looking like mafias and I am in love with them🥵

MY 7 DADDYS🤭

#min yoongi #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #hot as hell #mafia!bucky #jeon jeongkook #jung hoseok #mafia boss #park jimin #mafiafell #bts #bts aesthetic #spotify #army bts #bangtan army

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a-very-tired-raven · 2 years

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I'd just want to mom him, and that would stress me out. It wouldn't be a good situation lol. Rusty on the other haaaaaand

swoooooon

Pfft, i can understand you liking rust lmao.

#edgyanswers #jukebox.chatter #i dont know if i mentioned it but i used to be a pretty big simp for ratsohs mafiafell papyrus boss #and her fellswap paps mutt is like the second on my simping list for her blog

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wishingstarinajar · 2 years

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Ever since Underfella (Underfell's creator) shared some of their design ideas and color palettes for an Underfell Pacifist ending where the monsters get to go to the Surface, I've really wanted to give similar colors to the Gaster brothers in my Mafiafell fanfic, What Will You Do.

I dunno, I kind of like it. I might stick to purple hues for my fic and the boys instead of the iconic red, but who knows! Time will tell~

#undertale au #mafiafell #this idea has been living rent free in my head for MONTHS #So glad I finally got it done #Emily was already rocking purple so this works #~Painting The Roses PURPLE~#boss mafiafell #fang mafiafell #bara sans #emily #purple carnations #wings mafiafell #1920s #wish art

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aka-indulgence · 1 year

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So... me and @llamagoddessofficial have been cooking up an au for a while... let me show you our hmf!Sans :> (Horror Mafiafell Sans)

You're a waitress working at a bar/restaurant, and a certain skeleton has been coming back again and again. You can't help but wonder... why?

---

“He’s all yours, babe.”

You look up from notes on the wall. You’d like to ask ‘who?’ but both you and Lisa know there was no use. You already knew who it was. You didn’t even have to look out the circular window to check. You just stare at Lisa helplessly.

“Really?” You try, “can’t you just… a bit longer?”

Your words come out a perfect mess. Lisa understands anyway.

“Look… I don’t know how to tell you this (Y/n),” She puts a hand on her hip, “you know I can’t go back out there to him.”

“But…!”

You bite your lip. You know she’s telling the truth. You wish you could tell her to suck it up and go back there, no matter how scared she was but… you’re not taking chances with the current patron sitting in the corner of the bar. No one would.

For Lisa’s… and everyone’s sake, you’re not going to see what he might do if you sent her out to tell him that you won’t be serving him tonight.

You sigh, and take a peek through the window. Though elusive nowadays, it was unmistakable who the man- the skeleton in question was.

Sans was built like a tank, his form hunched over the table. Even sitting on the wide, plush red sofa, he looked like a giant, dwarfing the table and chairs like they were playsets. Monsters were already bigger than humans in general but him… he grew bigger than he used to- at least from what you’ve heard. Not like you knew the mob boss years and years ago before he got his infamous skull injury, and the blown eye in his left socket that was soaked in the blood of those who had crossed him. His mouth was set in a frown, filled with razor sharp teeth- one of which was golden.

The same scary face you saw shrouded in shadows in the alleyway, a sharp bone gripped in his large hand, dripping red.

You fled that night, not quite believing what you’d saw. That you’d just saw a skeleton kill a guy in the back of the restaurant? That it was the mob boss Sans?! He didn’t chase you then, and you hoped that’d be the end of it but then… he showed up to the bar as a patron one night.

You were almost certain then, that he had come to kill you. Especially when your dear friend Lisa had so helpfully told you that he’d asked for you in particular.

“her…” his bony finger had pointed at you. She DID tried to save you, to err on mistake- which one did you mean sir?

But every time you moved, his phalange followed. There was no mistaking who he was asking for.

You remember her panicked voice.

“He asked for you! Specifically!”

“W… huh? Why’d he ask for me? Can… are you sure-”

“YES! And I don’t know WHY!”

As reluctant as you were, you still went to serve him. You asked for his order while your grip on your pencil and notepad got slippery as your palms got sweaty. He took his time ordering, perusing through the menu with great attention, while you were praying that your legs didn’t looks as shaky as they felt. You’d never rush him, of course, even if you hadn’t seen him towering over a dead body.

You took his order, served it (stuttering), and… then he left.

… And came back. Again, and again. Every time, he’d ask for you to serve him. He always stares when you weren’t at his table (and actually, when you were at his table too). You could feel that red eye staring a hole into your back from behind. It was unnerving.

It’s a wonder why a man of his infamy would choose a bar like this. You’ve seen your fair share of criminals in this job- it was an alright-sized bar, and not exactly in the best place in town. You’ve learnt to turn the other cheek whenever they were around (and you were sure you didn’t realize just how many of the patrons were gangsters), pretend you were blind to their… occupation.

None of them had been as scary as Sans, though. In fact, his presence alone was enough to drive away most petty criminals.

This place was nothing special. It’s a wonder why he’d choose this place out of all places, especially for a guy who doesn’t like being seen much.

… Ok, that was a lie. Everyone working knew that he was here for you. But that didn’t explain the why.

It was clear to you now that he wasn’t coming here to kill you for witnessing… what you witnessed (Why was a man like Sans doing in that nothing alleyway anyway?). But if not for that then… why did he keep coming, to keep asking for you? Maybe he had… business around here and he liked the place enough to keep coming?

Whatever it was, he was here for a reason and you just… don’t get it.

You don’t get why he wants you to be the one serving him every time he was around, but you did anyway. It’s been a couple of nights now, but you can’t say you’ve become less nervous over time.

After a small inner pep talk to yourself and wringing your hands, you push open the door, walking into the dining area. There isn’t a lot of people inside, a common occurrence whenever Sans visited. Even if it had been busy before, some people would hurriedly finish up whatever they were doing, paying all at once and leaving. You’ve even seen someone stop before finishing their meal. The rest that stayed sat uncomfortably, trying their best to ignore the menacing air that the skeleton brought with him everywhere he’d go.

It didn’t work, of course. A presence like that wasn’t you could easily ignore.

(You wish you could ignore him.)

You smile awkwardly as you walk to his table, setting his drink down. At least you had a little bit of your work cut out for you, with Lisa taking his drink order. His eye zeroed in on you as soon as he noticed you, and though you’ve been taught it’s rude to not make eye contact, with him it felt like looking him in the eye would be the wrong thing to do.

“Is there anything else you’d like?” you ask, your voice sweet and soft as ever, hiding the sound of your beating heart.

He stares.

He always stares.

You see his pupil dilate a little, then he opens his mouth.

“want…”

Sans was a man of few words. He only said his order, and nothing else. It kept your meetings with him brief- even when it looked like he wanted to say something else, he wouldn’t.

This time, he spaces off for a moment, eye looking away from you. You watch his brows draw together, pinched as he concentrates on a thought. You wish you knew what he was thinking of, especially when his frown starts to peel back into a snarl, like he was angry.

You definitely weren’t expecting a hand around your waist, snatching you a second later.

You squeaked, notepad and pencil clattering to the floor, bumping against his sturdy chest. Everyone heard and turned to look, and as soon as they saw tiny you, sitting on the giant’s lap, practically all of them pointedly turned away. You wish they were still looking now- you were pleading with your eyes, help me I don’t think I’m supposed to be here!

He pushes you here and there, so that you’re sat more comfortably on his lap. Your mind goes blank, your body freezes. You could feel his chest expanding and contracting as he breathes. He sounds much calmer now that you were on his lap. Your breaths are shallow, and stop completely when you feel one arm wrap around your middle, like a restraint. His free hand raises, calling for Lisa, who you’ve just noticed is watching from the corner, clutching her apron, as clueless as you are. She approaches, trying to keep her eyes on the skeleton instead of you.

“... burgers.” he says, simply. She nods, and gives you a glance.

You furrow your brows, and you want to hiss Lisa help me! But as soon as she sees your expression she turns around, avoiding eye contact. You could almost hear her say sorry babe, can’t help you there!

You almost call out to her when a hand lands on your head. You go stiff, and after you take a quick peek at him, you look straight ahead. The monster’s phalanges start petting you, slowly, sinking into your hair, scratching your scalp. Sans let’s out a long breath, brushing your hair. A shiver runs down your neck.

… Well. I think I’ll be here for a while…

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Sitting on the lap of a giant skeleton was certainly an experience. You tried distracting yourself, but it was impossible when you could feel every time Sans breathed. There was nothing you could do but sit there, playing with your apron until it was a crumpled mess, sweating a puddle onto your uniform… and maybe onto Sans’ expensive suit. You couldn’t relax, even though taking away big scary skeleton aside, he was comfortable to sit on, and he was warm… and smelled of rain and embers of a dying cigar.

He ate carefully, always leaning forward (squishing you against his chest) when he took a bite of his burger, making sure the crumbs wouldn’t fall on the top of your head, wiping his hands and his mouth before he leaned back. You could feel him sighing, and since he was the only thing you could notice, it felt like this was the most relaxed he’s ever been while in the bar, his breathing slow. Apparently he really liked your hair, with how his claws kept carding through it, even while he was eating. When his hands were clean, he’d let his hands wander all over you- but nothing untoward. You could feel him tilting his skull forward to look at you, while he thumbed your cheek, and his other hand roamed around your waist and belly. Though you were nervous, you could feel when he rubbed your thigh that it didn’t feel particularly… heated.

He sighs, and you feel the pressure of his skull on the top of your head. It took everything in you not to hunch over and avoid it. You screw your eyes shut when you feel him turn his skull, and it felt like he was… rubbing his cheek on you? Like he was snuggling you? Is… is that what he’s doing?

You’re not sure and your nerves are too frayed to call it that.

He didn’t stop after he finished either, his plate clean. He was still there- and subsequently, you stayed sitting on his lap- even after they closed the bar. It was just him now. Your coworkers kept the lights on just for him, and even most of them have gone.

He’s leaning back on the cushions, and he brought both his arms around you to pull you plush against his chest, almost tucked into his neck. You wondered if this was what a teddy bear would feel like, being hugged.

The bartender was cleaning up in the kitchen. It was just you and him in the dining area.

You swallowed… wondering what he wants to do. It’s past closing, late at night, just the two of you, and his hands were still (gently) rubbing you. They haven’t gone anywhere private but- what if he wanted to? … What if he wasn’t here to kill you but.. wanted you to… you don’t know, service him or something? Did he have unsavory requests for you?

You think that thought might’ve scared you even more than the thought of him killing you.

You startle when he grunts eventually, like he’s addressing you. A giant hand cups your cheeks and against your will they turn pink. Even though you were frightened, even if his touches were unsexual they still felt… intimate.

You squeak for the second time that night when both his hands pick you up, and sets you down on the sofa. You feel a ball form in your throat when he stands up and turns to you, thoughts running with all sorts of ‘what-ifs’. He takes your hand, opening it up, and then…

And then he places a thick wad of cash in it.

“... thank you.” He says, quiet.

You stare at the stack of paper on top of your hand, blinking once, before turning to the skeleton, jumping in your seat.

He was gone, just like that.

He was always quiet, wasn’t he?

You sit there dumbfounded, for what felt like minutes, your lips parted, money still sitting innocently in your hand. You think no one can blame you when the only thing you said after you sat there in silence was a very emphatic “... Huh?”

#cw: blood #cw: murder #only mentioned though #the rest is... kinda soft hjsdf #hes just spooky #sans x reader #aka writing #hmf!sans #i know theres probably a lot of horror+mafia+fell out there jus #this is my (and llama's) rendition #heehe

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