"Heya, Feathers." MafiaSans x Monster Fem!Reader

23 Afterwards

*LIGHT CUSSING*

You've just finished work. It was exhausting honestly. It was about 2:04. AM. You've grabbed your things and changed out. Grillby said you could keep the uniform at home so you won't need to change at the bar so it's packed up too.

It felt off cutting into the tailored jacket but it was yours now and the wings had no where else to go. Rubbing your eyes, you realised how much you'd have to change your schedule to accommodate your new job.

Sans left a few hours after you talked, around 10 or 11 pm. Something about work popping up. You almost forgot what he did after not seeing him for so long. You both actually agreed to meet at the park tomorrow before work starts, so you have that to look forward to! Pay day is on Friday as well.

Deciding not to waste idle time on just going home, the grocery store sounded like a better idea. You both haven't been yet so it might be... important. Mom usually did the shopping..

"Have a wonderful rest of your day, Y/N," you hear Grillby call out as you began walking down the sidewalk. Turning and waving, you see him just going back into the bar, his flames leaving a faint glow on the glass. You frown slightly and turn back to your original destination.

"Okay. If work starts at 5 PM and goes till 2, we'll say I'll get 8 hours of sleep on a good day. I need about an hour to eat breakfast, get ready, do whatever else, and get to work so I'll have to get up at 4 PM at the very most. Subtract that from an average day to equal about an 8 AM bedtime. After work I'll have 6 hours to do whatever I need to.."

You have a system written down with circles and lines going across papers that are way to complicated for what you're trying to figure out. It's been 5 hours. You're 'bedtime' is already coming up.

You jot down your final time and begin to change into comfier clothing and go through your nightly routine.

Sitting on your bed, you stare out the window. You're home again. You still can't get over it. Sighing, you turn around, throwing the covers over your shoulders. At least your friends are there to help. With that you shut your eyes.

...

....

Damn that phone tho.

You sit up groggily. Your alarm hasn't even went off yet. You spent way to long on your phone last night. Day? Whatever. Too tired for that. Its about 10 am or so, your body haven't gotten used to the new time yet.

Sighing and throwing yourself out of bed, you go downstairs to eat. Work is in 7 hours and Sans wanted to meet up at 12.

You grab some bread and shove it in the toaster. While it's doing it's thing you went back to your room and changed into some casual clothing. A over-shoulder sweater with a sleeveless undershirt and some baggy sweatpants.

Walking down the stairs, you'd pass the toaster and stick out your hand absentmindedly, the toast popping out as your hand passes over it. You'd grab it and stop moving.

"What in the everyliving fu-"

"Language." You hear your fathers groggy voice come from the couch, cutting you off. You do shut your mouth but your eyes remain on the toast that you literally caught as it popped out.

"Yep. Sorry about that.." you eventually mutter as you realise your hand was burning from the crush toast. "SHIT!"

"Y/N!"

"Sorry!"

You quickly add your ingredients to the toast and go back to your room before your dad would wake up enough to yell at you for swearing.

After an hour or so of scrolling on your phone, finishing breakfast and just wasting time really, before checking the time. 11:47. Not bad, but you should get moving.

Standing up and grabbing your bag, you make your way downstairs, your dad just raises an eye brow at you in question.

"Hey dad, I'm going out to meet a friend."

"Alright sweetie. One second." He'd move around the table to you. He'd spread out his winged arms and wraps you in a tight hug. "Be careful songbird. Call me once you're done with work."

He'd let you go and wave you off as you walked out the door. Locking it and turning around, you start making your way to the park. It's about a 15 minute walk, 5 minute flight. Proceeding to take off, you keep a tight grip on your bag. Be a real damn shame if you lost this thing while flying.

11:54, not bad.

You land down, loose twigs and leaves fleeing your presence as the wind overpowers the nature. You straighten out and glance around, checking to see if Sans arrived yet. Not seeing him, you pull out your phone. You go to message him.

As you're about to send a text to ask 'if he got here yet', you felt your bag slowly slide off. Spinning around to grab at the bag, you see it floating in the air with a familiar blue mist hazing around it. Glancing down you see Sans's cheeky smile looking back up at you.

"Sorry. Bag musta slipped." He joked, floating the bag back over your shoulder. "Gotta keep an eye on your belongings. Ya don't want someone bagging it."

"Ha ha, very funny Sans," you respond, bringing the bags strap over your head, unable to think of a response pun.

"I try to be," he'd shrug, beginning to walk away, expecting you to follow after him.

You did.

"So what's been up with you, feathers?" He'd ask, finding a free bench and sitting down. "Ya got that job at Grillbz but anything else?"

"Nothing to much. We moved back home, dads' been sleeping on the couch for now. I don't blame him though, it makes sense that he's not over mom yet."

"How 'bout you? What do you feel about her? If it ain't too soon, of course."

"I'm not over it over it, but I'm doing better," you were already tearing up the moment you started talking about her. "I think.."

"Well I think I got somethin' to lift ya spirits, Feathers."

"And what's that, bones," you shoot back your own nickname, rubbing your eyes to erase the forming shame.

"We got a way to find him. Got connections to his gang, they... pledged allegiance... last night. So we can get clues to where he'll be," he explained, slouching back on the seat with one of his arms over it.

"Wait- REALLY?" Your attention immediately snaps to Sans, your tears stop short and your body turned completely at him. "Is that what you left to go do last night at Grillbys when you said 'work'?"

"Yep."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't wanna give ya false hope if the 'talk' went... unfavourably. That's why I'm tellin' ya now."

"I guess that makes sense."

As the both of you talked, you noticed that sans has been getting increasingly off. His eyes seemed to shift from time to time at the surroundings.

"Hey man, are you okay-?"

"GET DOWN, FEATHERS!"

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Big thanks to TheWhiteRabb for voting and commenting on the story! Your kind words made me so happy. Congrats on being the first comment(s) and I hope you have a wonderful day/night!