ՏᏆᎷᏢᎽ

It is an unusual feeling. To be pined for—at least it is for Salem, who never once predicted she would be here, flustered and posted beneath the statuesque silhouette of the Guardian of Easter.

Her pale, petite body reclines back into the abundance of warm, cozy quilts littering Bunnymund’s personal burrow, lashes briefly grazing the warmth of her cheeks as she blinks with coy innuendo. Warmth is quick to snake up the soft bends of her body, beckoning a stifled shudder from the bat spirit’s glossy black lips, a subtle shimmer of azure dancing along them.

An immediate breach of her space brings her bright golden eyes to flick up with a flash of bewilderment before it naturally embraces infatuation when she realizes her beloved only means to press his warm face intimately against her beating chest. A subtle coolness stamps her rising and falling chest, goosebumps ribboning over her faintly chilled skin.

Bunnymund plants his nose softly against Salem’s chest, feeling her heart thump steadily and discovering a respite within himself for the sensation—almost as if relieved she possesses life in her breast. The natural coolness of his tanned nose nestles close up against Salem’s bare chest, greedily soaking up whatever little warmth she has to offer.

He takes a deep and sharp breath, eagerly inhaling her scent; a scent that he could never picture anyone else wearing. An instant wave of pumpkin that eventually dances with an addictive cedar, perfectly tied up with the faintest hint of iron: a perfect gift all wrapped up for him. Such an aroma seems to evoke an irresistible hum from the intimidating rabbit’s chest, his ears instinctively folding back as he presses his face firmly against Salem’s chest, suddenly peppering small kisses on her flushed skin.

“Mh...”

Salem’s tall, pointed ears that proudly stand at the top of her head abruptly fold near the sides of her head as she receives Bunnymund’s eagerly doting kisses on her chest, thin eyebrows slowly wrinkling with desire above the bridge of her nose. Her significantly smaller form coils beneath his crouched form, a tender whine breaking through her drooping lips as his warmth stretches over her.

Long angular legs not unlike a bat’s, covered with raven black fur, stretch over Bunnymund’s hips, pointed claws gradually extending and growing taut. Her legs slowly coil around his back, pale skin a stark contrast with his silvery blue-grey fur, intricate black patterns branding him.

Laying below Bunnymund, Salem begins digging her claws at the quilts beneath her, lips gradually parting to gulp up more air she feels so little of in her lungs. Her ears twitch, rubbing against the plush quilts and keeping a keen focus on any sound the towering rabbit may make to insinuate he is no longer interested.

When he made even the slightest tsk, Salem understood she was failing—was not performing in the light of Pitch’s expectations. Never, however, was she the one to be chased after. Her past savior made it clear that he was the center of attention when he felt indulgent in bedroom delights. Salem always made sure to appease her savior. She always made the first move; always obedient to Pitch’s instructions no matter where her pleasure was at.

It is why it was a surprise to the petite bat spirit when Bunnymund grabbed her hands carefully and pulled her off of him—almost afraid she overstepped and immediately displeased the Guardian.

“Wh-?”

“What? Ain’t used t’bein’ taken care of, love?”

“I- I’ve been taken care of before! You- you nosy knave!”

Bunnymund sputtered briefly before he instantly wrapped his strong arms around the short bat spirit, his gravel voice rumbling in his throat with an amused laugh.

“Knave? Me, mate? Bah-! I’ll show ya knave!” The tall rabbit almost cackled as he playfully buried his face in Salem’s furry neck, furiously tickling her whilst effortlessly laying her back.

Not expecting him to suddenly alarm her with a parade of tickling, Salem could not help the squeak slipping past her lips as she reclined back and finally gave in to his playful attack, laughing beneath him.

Even now, despite the Guardian murmuring his tender words close to her ears as they both peeled her clothes off and embraced each other’s warmth, Salem cannot help but wonder why she deserves to revel in this moment, to love being loved. She was convinced Pitch was merely pitying her and obliged her in those momentary yet carnal desires... because she was unsightly.

Here, however, she’s held so closely and kissed so sweetly. Here, she is told such pleasant things and compelled to believe that no, she was not such an ugly duckling after all.

“Hah... mh...” she quietly moans, chest thrumming below Bunnymund’s delicate and earnest kisses before she watches him pull away. “M-... my turn...?”

Bunnymund lets out a dry laugh.

“Nah, love,” he remarks, unable to resist a coy smirk from sprouting across his furry features. “We’re jus’ gettin’ started.”

Before the pale bat can ask what implications he means to make, she finds herself yelping in alarm when a pair of warm, sturdy paws clasp the meat of her thighs and easily drags her weight across the floor and up to his shoulders. The statuesque rabbit sits back on his powerful hind legs, easily supporting his own weight and the new addition of Salem’s body against his front.

Salem’s vision of the world is quickly turned upside down, although the abrupt change is not all that foreign to her. Her spindly wings momentarily flap in a panic until they listlessly droop to the ground, ears twisting around and accustoming to the new position.

“Mh? What are you—”

With her legs perfectly looped over Bunnymund’s broad shoulders, hanging limply over his back, and the back of her thighs tightly held by his solid grip, Salem is ignorant to the fact her slick cunt openly displays itself for a pair of greedy forest-green eyes to hungrily admire. She finds herself interjecting herself with a breathy gasp when a hot muscle drags itself painstakingly slowly over her vulva, her dark rosy-pink cunt fluttering wildly in response.

“Hah-! Oh shit-! Mgh-!” Mewling whilst dangling, Salem instinctively tightens the grip her legs have around the tall rabbit’s shoulders, chest rapidly rising and falling. “Hnh-! A-Ah...!”

Bunnymund’s furry yet muscular back tenses in response to the bat’s feet uncontrollably pressing into him, his strong paws firmly clasping Salem’s taut thighs to keep her near feathery weight from falling. His breath rolls over the highly receptive pussy eagerly clamping and fluttering at the slightest change, nose suddenly overwhelmed with the tantalizing scent of her arousal.

“Hhf-... yeah? Hh-... y’like that?” His voice is gruff and heavy with hunger, a breathless exhale streaming from his lips. “How about this?”

The dangling bat instantly writhes when Bunnymund licks her up yet again, starting from the bottom of her vulva before reaching the hood of her clit, indulging himself with the small pearl of nerves. Her back curves instinctively, waves of pleasure drifting up her pelvic region as his hot tongue repeatedly swirls around the sensitive bead, deftly lifting the pink hood to press the tip of his muscle against her clit.

Beads of sweat trickle down into her short raven bangs as Salem mewls again, left breathless while in Bunnymund’s unbudging grip, pointed fangs digging into the plushness of her lower lip. She whines at his sly curl against her sensitive cunt, her face flushing a deep red at the way her vulnerable slit uncontrollably clamps around nothing.

“Hah-! MMgh-... A- Aster...!” Salem whimpers mid-sentence, thighs flexing as Bunnymund seems to read her mind and, once again, obey her desires by firmly dragging his tongue from her abused and swollen clit to her dripping opening.

He hardly appears to restrain himself when he promptly delves his tongue past her sopping entrance, all too eager to gulp up her leaking arousal. His long ears fold back, intensively concentrated on the visceral squeeze of Salem’s cunt as his alarmingly long tongue determinedly swirls around her velvety insides. A shudder breaks through him when the petite bat releases another delicious moan, his paws keeping a solid grip on her thighs.

Salem mewls in bliss, golden eyes battling tears as she feels the girth of Bunnymund’s tongue hungrily pry inside of her pulsating cunt, chewing on her lip at the distinct pressure pushing against her g-spot. She flushes a dark red at the subtle squelch of her pussy, gasping when Bunnymund repositions his warm paws lower to sit on her waist.

Obediently, Salem curls her legs slightly, planting them evenly below his shoulder blades, using this slight change of position to press her dripping cunt further against his slobbering mouth. She coils with pleasure as he repeatedly buries and curls his tongue inside, nose perfectly nudging her sensitive clit.

“Hhah-! MMngh-! I-! I’m-... it-! Ghh-!”

The dangling bat finds it difficult to word her thoughts when they scramble so far apart, her throat instead releasing loud and lewd moans with every thrust of his tongue. Flesh beneath his paws easily molds beneath each of his digits, happy to comply with wherever he wants her to stay; pelvis brazenly coated in her sopping arousal, leaking down her tense stomach while she weakly tries to roll her hips up.

Salem curls her arms, letting them sit just above her eyes as she focuses on the slowly building pressure inside her pelvic area. Drool leaks from the corner of her glossy lips, teeth repeatedly biting in her lower lip until it’s swollen, her eyes frantically looking around the cozy nest before she squeezes them shut.

“Mmh-! Feels- hahh-! feels... sso good...!”

Bunnymund devotedly buries his tongue into Salem’s cunt, practically addicted to the way her arousal coats his tongue and leaks over the mound of her lewdly parted lips. His grip remains steady at her waist, discovering that his ability to hold her and put her wherever he wants excites him—a clear display of his strength against her size.

Her smell and her taste almost drive him mad, slurping her up as if he is doing it more for himself than for her, but her mewls and breathless words easily convince him that she’s enjoying herself just as much as he is. A distinct tightness takes over her slick insides as he pumps his tongue as deeply as he can, gulping her wetness with hunger, realizing the bat suddenly approaches her well-deserved orgasm.

Salem writhes eagerly, chest rising and falling rapidly when the waves of ecstasy suddenly bursts into instant euphoria. Her small silhouette immediately curves, every muscle tightening in her body as her climax rips through her, legs pressing firmly at either side of Bunnymund’s head whilst her pussy spasms in its release.

“HHah-! MMh-! Ahhh...!” Salem moans loudly, uncaring of her volume despite the apparent silence of night surrounding their nest of quilts and pillows.

Bunnymund continues swirling his dextrous tongue inside her cunt, planting his mouth on her slit and gulping her release as if he is a starved man. He lets out a quiet groan against her cunt, reveling in her taste and sounds before he finally pulls away and pants for air.

Salem parts her lips to greedily fill her lungs with air, arms dropping and grazing the ground. She winces slightly when her shoulder blades suddenly kiss the soft quilts, glassy golden eyes eventually landing on the crouched rabbit Guardian looming over her. Salem’s ears twitch.

▄▏ ▬ ▁ ▄ ☰ ▔█ ▀ ▬▀ ▉ ▀▏░░ ▄ ░█░

▉░ ▄▏▁ ▁ ☷ ▔ ▉▉               ▔ ▏ ▀ ▁▔▀ ▁ ▁ ▉ ▄▔ ▀ 

▀░▒░▒ ☰▒ █

                                          ▉ ▏ ▏ ▬ ▔ ▒▒ ▏ 

                         ☷▏ ▉ ☰ ▉

▄ ▏ ▬▬▒▬▬▄ ▔ ▏▬ ▏ ▉▉ ▀ ▀ ▉▁ ▁ ▀ ▀ ☷☷

“-̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ǒ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ǔ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞m̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ǎ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ď̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ě̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ǐ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ť̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ť̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ȟ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ǐ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞š̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞f̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ǎ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ř̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞.̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞.̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞.̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞.̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞-̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ǒ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞w̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ň̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ǐ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ň̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ť̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ȟ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ě̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞—̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞.̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞.̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞.̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞-̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ř̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞w̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ȟ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ǎ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ť̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ǐ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ť̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞'̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞š̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞w̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ǒ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ř̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ť̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ȟ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞.̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞.̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞.̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞-̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ř̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ǒ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ǔ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ď̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞ ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ǒ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞'̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞y̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞ǎ̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̄̄̈́͟͞.̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞.̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞.̵̵͓̫̲̭͔̌̄̄̈́͟͞”

‎

I took what I had for granted... didn’t I?

Happiness... that was asking for too much...

At least... f̷̵̫̞̉͢ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ y̯̤͑́́̓́ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈....

You just... can’t stand the thought of me getting a happy ending...

₴Ø Ɽł₱₱ł₦₲ ₳₩₳Ɏ ฿Ø₮Ⱨ Ø₣ ØɄⱤ ₵Ⱨ₳₦₵Ɇ₴ ₣ØⱤ Ø₦Ɇ ₩₳₴ ɎØɄⱤ ₦ɆӾ₮ ฿Ɇ₴₮ ₵ØɄⱤ₴Ɇ, ₩₳₴₦'₮ ł₮?

‎

          ᶦ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈˢ···

₴ⱧɄ₮ Ʉ₱.

ł ₲Ø₮ ₴ł₵₭ Ø₣ ɎØɄ ₩₳₴₮ł₦₲ ₮ł₥Ɇ.

ㄚㄖㄩ尺 几卂丨ᐯ乇ㄒㄚ 丨丂 山卄卂ㄒ Ꮆㄖㄒ ㄚㄖㄩ 卄乇尺乇.

Standing in the middle of a vast corridor, veiled by a radiant golden glow, is a woman. A human... s̩͙͖̋͛͟û̶͙̽̿͆̈p̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀p̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚s̩͙͖̋͛͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡y̯̤͑́́̓́. Her pale face is cloaked by numerous strands of raven black hair, hiding away any possible glimmer of her demeanor.

Held in her trembling hand is a hatchet. Entirely pristine.

Her arm twitches, the blade reflecting shards of light against the aurelian pillars lining the perimeter of the hall. Between her disheveled strands of hair, her golden eye peers out to glue her gaze onto the single individual standing in her path.

Keeping his hands in his pockets, the skeleton adorning his signature blue jacket and black basketball shorts stands wordlessly, though both of his radius and ulna give a subtle shake beneath his sleeves. His eye sockets are entirely stuck onto 卄乇尺, denying himself even a fraction of vulnerability by tearing his gaze away.

₮ⱧɆɎ'VɆ ฿ɆɆ₦ ⱧɆⱤɆ ₣ØⱤ ₩Ⱨ₳₮ ₣ɆɆⱠ₴ Ⱡł₭Ɇ ⱧØɄⱤ₴.

            ᴛɪᴄᴋ

  ᴛᴀᴄ

Sans stiffens in his spot, but he refuses to move. He can dodge anything she throws his way. He’s exhausted confident. All her efforts—although manic and likely out of pure adrenaline—become in vain the instant Sans sends her a last second surprise attack. Occasionally, she swung her weapon... and nearly managed to slice his bones.

Luckily... he’d summoned a bone straight from the floor to shoot straight up into her neck, her skull cracking as the sharpened end emerged from the crown of her head. Blood gushed down her chest and splat on the floor, her eyes rolling to the back to expose their whiteness, then she’d come back.

Again. And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

A n d  a g a i n.

Sans doesn’t know how long he’s been here. Certainly longer than the time the kid tried until they finally gave up and RESET. This human, however...

S̢̼̼͖̺͖ͪH͇͇̹͊ͪ́̕ͅE̢̢̻ͮͧͦ͋͞͡ I̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟S̢̼̼͖̺͖ͪ I̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟N͔͔̥̺̞̿͊̇T̼̼̖̾͟͞E̢̢̻ͮͧͦ͋͞͡N͔͔̥̺̞̿͊̇T̼̼̖̾͟͞ Ơ̷̴̪̪̝͈̥͈̆̀̚N͔͔̥̺̞̿͊̇ F̼̼͓̙ͤ̋̅̚͞͞I̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟N͔͔̥̺̞̿͊̇I̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟S̢̼̼͖̺͖ͪH͇͇̹͊ͪ́̕ͅI̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟N͔͔̥̺̞̿͊̇G̯̯̩̙͆ͣ͟ T̼̼̖̾͟͞H͇͇̹͊ͪ́̕ͅI̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟S̢̼̼͖̺͖ͪ.

Again, they faced each other.

A bone carved itself into her sternum, shredding her lungs and piercing the nerves in her spinal cord.

Again, they fought.

Her flesh left a gruesome scent as it torched underneath the ray of pure energy from the gaping mouth of a contorted skull.

Again, she came back.

She coughs and hacks up the blood coagulating in her throat, every muscle in her body quivering as she is propped up in the air with countless ivory poles penetrating her back. Bones emerge from the breadth of her chest, squeezing past her creaking ribs. Flesh encapsulates the circumference of each bone skewered through her body, viscous crimson fluids dribbling around her back and slipping down the length of each pale bone keeping her elevated.

     ᴋᴏғғ

              ʜᴀᴄᴋ

  ᴋɢʜᴄᴋ

Sans’s slippers are quiet even as he approaches her, lifting his left hand, preparing to end her life for the nth time before he freezes in his spot. He looks at her expression—her face upside down—unable to shake away an uneasy feeling spiraling in the depth of his ribcage. The corners of her cracked, bloodied lips begin to stretch, practically tearing through the skin of her cheeks in order to widen her grin.

H i s  S O U L  i s  p o u n d i n g.

“Y-ou... think... ɢʜᴄᴋ- yo-... ‘re in c-control... ʜᴄᴋᴋ-...”

         ᴋᴏғғ-

LUNE bends her head further back, crunches fill the atmosphere, but her features remain stagnant. Crimson dribbles up her face, immersing into one of her eyes, staining the once clean white color. She cackles but it almost comes out as a gurgle instead.

“-ou think... ɢʜᴋɢ- you’re... do-ing this... ᴋᴄᴋᴋ- f-for... the ɢᴄᴋ- good of... the people...”

“乃ㄩㄒ 丨 Ҝ几ㄖ山 ㄚㄖㄩ'尺乇 ᗪㄖ丨几Ꮆ 丨ㄒ 乃乇匚卂ㄩ丂乇 ㄚㄖㄩ 匚卄卂丂乇 ㄒ卄乇 ㄒ卄尺丨ㄥㄥ ㄖ千 Ҝ丨ㄥㄥ丨几Ꮆ 丂ㄖ爪乇ㄖ几乇.”

“...” Sans says nothing.

His hand hangs in the air, though no tingle of magic flows through his bones. His sockets are empty as they stare at Lune. His grin almost appears forced...

       “卄卂卄卂卄卂卄卂卄卂卄卂-!”

Wincing, Sans blinks, his arm shaking even as it hovers.

“丨 Ҝ几乇山 丨ㄒ. 丨 Ҝ几乇山 ㄚㄖㄩ 山乇尺乇 ﾌㄩ丂ㄒ 卂丂 山ㄖ尺ㄒ卄ㄥ乇丂丂 卂丂 爪乇-!”

９９９９

９９９９

９９９９

９９９９

                            ₚₗₑₐₛₑ...

                            ₛₜₒₚ...

Even after the blaster shuts its mouth, Sans is speechless. His entire being quakes beneath his baggy clothing. Dread fills his SOUL as Lune’s words echo in his mind over and over and over...

And over

and over

and over

Ȧ̶̵̗̳N̰̜͉͔ͬ̽͢Ḋ̤͇̮͙ͥ O̵̷̪̰ͩ͆ͅV̷̬̈ͫ͢͢͝E̸̖̪̱͚ͨ̀͜Ŗ̴̪̈̄͞

They’ve been fighting for countless times.

Sans isn’t sure if his legs are still attached to him.

Lune stands with ０１ health. Her grip on her weapon falters, yet her bottomless eyes stare directly into Sans.

      ʜғғ-

“maybe... let’s... ʜғʜ-... re-think this... huh?”

...?

Lune’s subtle panting slows, her shoulders no longer quivering like they were before.

“i-... i know there’s-... there’s a good person deep down... a person that... tried to make things right... a person that wants to be better... i know they’re inside... you just gotta let ‘em out... so...”

Lune’s eyebrows briefly furrow, witnessing the skeleton withdraw his hand from his pocket and stick it out for her to grab for a handshake.

“whaddya say? can we go back ta bein’ buddies?”

Wh—

          ᴴᵉ’ˢ··· ʰᵉ’ˢ ˢᵖᵃʳᶦⁿᵍ ᵘˢᵎ

... A subtle grin plays on her lips.

JɄ₦Ɇ, who rests deep down within Lune’s SOUL, frantically rushes herself to her feet, her poofy pink hair hysterically flopping over her hopeful expression. Shaking on her legs, JɄ₦Ɇ gazes through Lune’s eyes, her hands slowly fisting themselves before tenderly pressing against her chest, where her pure white SOUL beats eagerly.

          ᴸ⁻ᴸᵘⁿᵉ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉᵎ

...

Within her consciousness, Lune gradually turns to face her expectant alter, watching as her wide lemon-yellow eyes twinkle with desperate longing. Lune, however, stares back blankly, lashes brushing against wisps of choppy black hair hanging over her forehead.

...

          ᴸ⁻ᴸᵘⁿᵉ ʰᵉ’ˢ⁻ ʰʰ⁻ʰᵉ’ˢ ˢᵖᵃʳᶦⁿᵍ ᵘˢᵎ ᵂᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶜʰᵃⁿᶜᵉᵎ ᵂ⁻ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵎ

JɄ₦Ɇ glances back at her alter with a worried expression, her SOUL shuddering upon recognizing Lune’s empty gaze. Her arms quake, remaining pressed up against her pounding chest.

...heh...

Are you s̩͙͖̋͛͟t̴͕͖͓̀û̶͙̽̿͆̈p̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜?

Whimpering, JɄ₦Ɇ watches as Lune creeps up on her, an ominous shadow hanging over her face. The pink-haired woman flinches, nearly stumbling in her attempt to walk back, but she is unable to evade the dark-haired woman who launches her hand to grab her hair.

JɄ₦Ɇ yelps loudly, tears instantly springing in the lines of her eyes as she is forced to bend closer toward Lune. She shakes violently, sobbing and stretching her arms above her, hysterically reaching Lune’s and digging her nails into her skin—a pitiful glint of hope to escape tormenting her. The evidently weaker alter repeatedly shrieks and sobs during her attempts of fighting her assailant, but it is of no use.

Lune’s stare remains even as she gawks down at her pathetic alter, feeling her nails pierce her hand. Her features still. Lune would grimace in disgust if she could feel it in the moment... all she CAN feel... is a bottomless pit digging in her chest. She does not care if this stupid skeleton’s sparing her.

          ᴾᵘʰ⁻ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉᵎ ᴸᵘⁿᵉᵎ ᴸ⁻ᴸᵉᵗ ᵍᵒᵎ ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ⁻ᵎ ᴴᵉ’ˢ⁻ᵎ ᴴᵉ’ˢ ˢᵖᵃʳᶦⁿᵍ ᵘˢᵎ

          ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˢˢ⁻ˢᵗᵒᵖᵎ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵃⁿʸᵐᵒʳᵉᵎ

...

Gasping, JɄ₦Ɇ feels her gravity dramatically shift, a solid force ramming into her rear and back. She quickly realizes she’s been thrown down onto the ground, her lungs forcibly releasing every ounce of air they once held. Writhing on the ground, JɄ₦Ɇ weakly pushes herself to rest on her side, sections of pink hair now wildly scattered over her front.

...you’re a fucking fool.

Lune hears another whimper break through her vocal cords—refusing to acknowledge it—as she steps closer to JɄ₦Ɇ. Her boots thunk until she’s looming over JɄ₦Ɇ’s shaking body, piercing yellow eyes staring her down.

Do you really think... he’s going to spare us?

After everything we di—

          ᴬᶠᵀᴱᴿ ᴱⱽᴱᴿʸᵀᴴᴵᴺᴳ ʸᴼᵁ ᴰᴵᴰ⁻ᵎ

...

Lune’s lips sew themselves shut.

Tears spill over JɄ₦Ɇ’s flushed cheeks, her breathing labored, quiet coughs interjecting her crying. She weakly lowers her head, squinting her eyes, drops of her tears slipping from her cheeks and plopping on the ground.

    ᴋᴄᴋᴋ-

             ʜᴄᴋ-

          ᴵ⁻··· ᴵ ᵈᶦᵈⁿ’ᵗ··· ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵃ⁻ᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᶦˢ··· ᵇ⁻ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉᵈ ᵗʰᶦˢ···

          ᶠᶠ⁻ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ⁻ᵎ

Overcome with silence, Lune does nothing but stare.

   sᴏʙ-

          ᴬ⁻ᴬˡˡ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ··· ʷᵃˢ ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈˢ··· ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʰʰ⁻ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ···

...

          ᴮᵘᵗ ʸʸ⁻ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ⁻ᵎ

          ʸ⁻ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ⁻ᵎ

          ˢˢ⁻ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵉᶜᶦᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ⁻ᵎ

Another yelp leaves JɄ₦Ɇ when a web of pain surges on the top of her head, quickly realizing Lune grabbed her hair yet again. She breaks out in another sob, looking up with tears overflowing in her eyes.

Nothingness stares back at JɄ₦Ɇ, a blackhole destined to swallow SOULs whole. Lune tightens the clasp she has on JɄ₦Ɇ’s hair, ignoring her squeak.

Fine.

If you want your happy ending so badly...W̸͈ͯ̾̒̿h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢y̯̤͑́́̓́ d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘'t̴͕͖͓̀ y̯̤͑́́̓́ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈ g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚ g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊t̴͕͖͓̀ i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟t̴͕͖͓̀?

JɄ₦Ɇ struggles to keep her gaze on Lune, her hands gripping her wrist in hopes of subsiding her pain. JɄ₦Ɇ winces.

          ᴴ⁻ᴴᵘʰˀ

Lune bends down uncomfortably close, acidic eyes wide with ominous intent that burns through JɄ₦Ɇ’s optimism. Her strength is firm, keeping her digits interlaced with JɄ₦Ɇ’s fluffy pink hair, practically tearing up her scalp.

Go ahead.

If you can convince this clown...

To SPARE us...

I’ll do it.

I’ll RESET...

I’ll let you live your happy little ending...

But let me tell you now...

Quietly squeaking, JɄ₦Ɇ watches as Lune hovers close, fearful of what may happen if she dare let her gaze go astray.

Y̵̷̛̤͍̅́̕ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ c̷̹͖͋́̃h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘c̷̹͖͋́̃ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊s̩͙͖̋͛͟ ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ p̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞p̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ t̴͕͖͓̀h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘.

The next thing June knows, she’s standing in the golden corridor with ⱠɄ₦Ɇ’s hatchet in her hand. Her legs waver, threatening to buckle if she twitches too hard. June, although maintaining the appearance of ⱠɄ₦Ɇ, quickly lifts her gaze to look at the skeleton, who remains offering his hand.

A glint of hope flashes in her eyes, remembrance of what feels like a distant memory dancing around her SOUL. June’s eyes almost tear up when she thinks about the life she once had.

She thinks about the laughter that rang within the sultry atmosphere of MTT Resort, laughter shared between her and Sans as they exchanged ridiculous jokes and puns. A fluffy excitement sang within her SOUL... along with a glimmer of fondness, perhaps?

I can bring it back-!

I-I can make things right, Sans-!

I can make everything go back- b-back to the way it was-!

I̶̴̗̗̦͍ͨͭ̉͢͟f̷̵̫̞̉͢ ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡y̯̤͑́́̓́ y̯̤͑́́̓́ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈ c̷̹͖͋́̃ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜ p̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀û̶͙̽̿͆̈t̴͕͖͓̀ y̯̤͑́́̓́ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ t̴͕͖͓̀r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟û̶͙̽̿͆̈s̩͙͖̋͛͟t̴͕͖͓̀ i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘ m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊!

Gradually, her digits uncurl around the dingy handle of a weapon that never belonged to her. She listens to it clank in the hall, but her gaze is fixated on Sans. He also refuses to glance down at the hatchet.

                          well, that’s not somethin’ i expected...

                          huh...

June is oblivious to the way glistening trails emerge down her pale cheeks, a hesitant smile growing over her cracked lips. Soreness travels throughout her beaten and bruised body, though she shows no sign of discomfort. All she merely does is lift her arms with a sad smile, almost as if inviting a hug, hands extended out to Sans.

Please...

Please, trust me.

９９９９

９９９９

９９９９

９９９９

...what...?

A sharp pain shoots through June’s chest, eyes wide with terror slowly falling down, recognizing the end of a bone now pierced through her chest. Her SOUL violently trembles in her chest, barely maintaining the will to remain whole. She gasps quietly, lowering her hands only to hover them over her wounded chest.

“Hh-hahh... ah... I—...”

More tears flood June’s eyes, despair rooting deep in her SOUL as it crumbles apart before her very eyes. She sharply breathes in, weeping to herself, knees instantly hitting the floor. June directs her glistening gaze back up at Sans, eyebrows twisted above her nose and her lips parted, yet no word slips out.

Sans stares back at her, his left hand hovering by his side.

“...”

“...no... p-please...” June croaks, “This... can’t... be how... it ends...”

“...”

His eye sockets slightly squint.

“see you in hell, human...”

No...

Nononononono...

What...

...this...

‎

T̷̫͉̰͕̒́h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟s̩͙͖̋͛͟ i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟s̩͙͖̋͛͟n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘’t̴͕͖͓̀ m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡y̯̤͑́́̓́ h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞p̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀p̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀y̯̤͑́́̓́ ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠...

“i never got to eat dinner at the restaurant... ‘nd i’m still hungry...”

Hh-Huh-?!

Wh—

What’s-... what’s he gonna do to me?

The feline is entirely immersed in a sense of awe as she scrutinizes Sans, whose chubby body stands directly between her legs—effectively dividing them. Her SOUL palpitates unevenly within the compass of her chest, embarrassment devouring her whole being as soon as her gaze sets on her own pair of legs. They remain perched on either shoulder, dangling down to rest against Sans’s supple body.

Wincing, Lune flexes her ears, forcing them to stand upright and flaunt their light pink flesh toward Sans. Her breathing is hurried and strained, each distinctive strand of fur on her body standing on their ends—causing her overall appearance to seem extra fluffy.

“heh... you look cute like this, y’know?” Sans mumbles, fondness lacing his rich voice. His cerulean eyes bat up to Lune’s baffled expression, lips spreading into an eager grin. “alarmed ‘n docile... really takes away that cat-aclysmic intimidation you like to carry.”

“Kckk-... why-... why you-... you ss-stupid—”

“stupid human, i know, i know,” Sans automatically recites Lune’s favorite nickname. “too bad this stupid human doesn’t fall fer any of your scare tactics. in fact...” He leans closer to her, enjoying her initial reaction to slowly lean back with a wide-eyed expression. “they actually work me up.”

Hh-...

Huh-?!

“Work him up”?

Gawking with a dumb look on her face, Lune does nothing but stammer and burble incomprehensible words. She cannot seem to notice the way her thighs automatically flex and squeeze around Sans’s neck.

“Hh-... huh?” She breathes out, brows creased above her nose.

Sans chuckles, “yeah, it was a little weird for me to wrap my head around, too. it was worse when i thought about when we first met... ‘cause damn i thought that was attractive...”

HUH-?!

I TRIED KILLING HIM-!

“i know, you tried killing me! hella crazy...”

Is-...

Is he some kinda twisted pervert?

With undeniable horror etched into each perspicuous feature on her face, Lune hangs her jaw in shock, letting choked out gasps and stutters roll off her golden tongue. How weird could this guy get?

“knowing i give you this kinda effect, however...” mutters the human man, his curious hands now trailing from Lune’s knees to the girth of her thighs then her waist. Catching her wince and squeak under her breath, Sans grins. “tells me ya ain’t as big ‘n scary as you think you are.”

“Hhn-!”

Lune’s needle-like teeth clench down on each other as soon as Sans slips his palms back to her thighs just to dig them further between her legs, stroking the fur on the inside of her thighs. Her ears shoot up straight, face ignited with a colony of golden freckles that burn across her cheeks. Lune’s eyes gape wide, SOUL pounding inside her chest and reverberating across her sensitive eardrums.

Hha?

“Whuh—”

“there’s no need to hide somethin’ i know you have,” croons Sans, whose cerulean eyes fervently gaze up into Lune’s dark skirt.

“H-Huh-?!” Lune exclaims, frantically burrowing both hands into her lap, forcing fabric to blanket herself. “I-... I don’t-... erm... I hh-have... nn-no idea what you’re... t-talking about...” she huffs, neglecting to acknowledge how vigorously she trembles on the kitchen counter.

Sans slightly squints his eyes, his grin permanent even when he looks back up at Lune’s dumbfounded face. Although the feline sports no panties to be “modest”, her crotch, where the naked bits of a human woman would be, is entirely shrouded in smooth fur. Ironically enough, the lack of genitalia reminds Sans of the way Ken and Barbie dolls are designed... pg-friendly.

“you’ve got monster magic,” Sans states the obvious no matter how flustered Lune gets. “i know you can make a pretty lil cunt for me if i asked real nice...”

“Mh-... I-... I, erm... haah-... you-... y-you...” She palms her fluffy cheeks, unaware of what state her face is in. “I-I... can’t...”

He raises a naked brow at her, cocking his head forward.

Lune’s shoulders jerk as soon as her eyes meet his. It is as if his impish cerulean eyes sear through the darkness of their apartment specifically to match gazes with her. She shakes under his intense stare, her ears slowly twisting away.

“did little miss luney lose all her bite?” He teases her. “i’ve seen juney use her magic before. i know you can do it, too, pretty kitty.”

“I-... h-ha...”

Lune’s thighs slowly inch toward each other until the fold in between her legs is completely squished, creating an additional batch of wrinkles in the fabric. Batting her eyes down, Lune anxiously gawks at Sans, who gives her a look of anticipation instead. Shuffling against the granite counter, Lune’s tail writhes across the cool surface, incidentally sweeping away a fine layer of dust that may have settled during the day.

I—

This-...

This... crazy human...

Is this why June’s so obsessed with this guy?

“Mh...” Lune mumbles, averting her eyes entirely.

The dark, furry calves dangling over Sans’s broad yet sunken shoulders faintly shake, causing Sans to switch his attention over to her body language. He sees her hands pin themselves against the counter behind her, watching the way her shoulders tenderly shudder, ears slowly drooping. Her legs remain pressed together, clearly intending to conceal her most vulnerable spot.

Seeing how she refuses to link her gaze with his, Sans momentarily allows his grin to falter, a look of concern crossing his features. He rubs the side of her thigh, uncaring of the way her knees slightly press into his chubby cheeks.

“hh-hey...” he mumbles out, “if yer not comfortable... we don’t have ta keep goin’, y’know? we can-... we can just... bake a pizza ‘n watch some tv... on the couch, if ya want.”

Mmh...

Lune’s elusive gaze is interjected by a surprised blink, her piercing golden eyes whipping back to meet with Sans’s strangely soothing ones. Her tail ceases its snake-like movement, stilling against the smooth granite surface. She blinks again, lips somewhat parted when facing the clean-shaven human, who evidently keeps his eyes centered on her bewildered expression.

When the feline decisively selects her choice for the night, she releases whatever tension she sustained at the base of her ears, letting them flop submissively against her head. With Sans’s fixated attention solely on her, Lune finds herself flustered by how intentionally affectionate his gaze and words are.

Flushing with specks of gold across her fluffy cheeks, Lune bashfully turns her head away, ignorant to how brightly the tips of her ears glow along with her freckles. She spots his expectant look from the corner of her eye, though she remains silent, pressing her lips tightly against each other.

“...”

“...?”

Sans stares expectantly, unable to cock his head forward or to the side with Lune’s knees pressing into his face. He’s pleasantly surprised, however, when the feline monster merely grumbles quietly and releases a stiffness that keeps her thighs squished together. Eagerly, he lowers his gaze, witnessing the pudge of her legs flatten as she parts her legs.

Excitement crashes over him as soon as his wide, cerulean eyes—swirling with pure ardor—land on her lap. He swears his mouth unconsciously douses itself in saliva the instant he sees what Lune willingly presents: delicately glistening folds that match the color of her eyes and the tips of her ears, a single hooded pearl delved just above her fleshy creases—which Sans quickly identifies as her clitoris. The fact Lune’s knowledge of the human woman’s genitalia is just as advanced as June’s makes the human wonder... has she simply seen everything before without ever admitting it?

Her aurelian folds remain exposed to the chill of their apartment, impulsively clamping around nothing, which automatically incites Sans’s heart to skip a beat and his vocal cords to briefly vibrate with a low groan. Overwhelmed with arousal and affection, Sans twists his head just so that his lips press firm kisses into Lune’s knees and inner thighs.

“Hn-! Hhah... hh...” Lune yelps, raising a hand to palm her mouth albeit weakly. “Hff... hng...”

“man... y’smell so... fucking good,” mumbles Sans, who intently presses his lips against her trembling knees. “you’re so good for me, luney. hh... wanna make you feel so good...”

His soft lips peck her inner thighs, diving his head further between her legs, which he notices shake almost vehemently. With his digits immersed in her smooth fur, Sans slithers them down her thighs before they reach her curvy hips, tenderly scrunching her skirt further up to grant him better access.

Lune’s eyes remain batted wide, scrutinizing every movement Sans makes. She feels his phantom touch tickle the sides of her thighs, stirring her once-smooth raven fur, now disturbed and ruffled. Her SOUL shakes violently inside her chest, humming a distinctly rich tune that Lune does not recognize. Watching the way he slithers his head closer to the apex of her legs, Lune quietly squeaks and heavily exhales, unable to cease her trembling no matter how humiliating it is.

Wh-... what the-...

What... i-is this?

Why can’t...

I stop...

Sh-Shaking-?!

A saturated smack waves across the spacious apartment floor, instantaneously followed by a resonant yelp paired with laborious breathing. Lune gasps, hysterically palming her mouth when a spongy pair of lips delicately latch onto her vulnerable clit, his warm drool colliding against her viscid wetness, slipping between the contour of her clitoral hood and her fluttering vulva.

Unable to hush her libidinous sounds, Lune whines, her ears straining themselves in twisting away entirely and falling flat against the sides of her head. Tendons and muscles in her legs instinctively flex—almost in a ripple effect—, tightening the hold they have around Sans’s head. Whilst her legs maintain their stiffness over Sans’s shoulders, her arms lose their strength little by little until all she can do is lay herself flat against the chilled and sleek countertop.

Her tail wriggles out from beneath her, curling tightly at her side while her spine gradually molds upward, her back curving up off the surface of their counter. The monster’s whines evolve into strained gasps and vigorous pants, her voice coming in between cracks of her breathing.

When the human between her raven legs suckles at her highly susceptible bundle of nerves concealed beneath her swollen clit, Lune’s fangs grind together before her jaw hangs open, lustrous strands of saliva cohered between her upper and lower set of teeth. She wails uncontrollably, bending her calves into each other to cross over Sans’s back, inevitably dragging him closer to her.

“HAah-! AHh... hahh-... hmnh-... ahh, ah-! Hnh-!” Lune fiercely pants against the chilly air of their apartment, each fiber on her being stood on their ends. “Oh, ffu-ck... hahh...”

Listening to her breathless whines seems to only kindle Sans’s eagerness to please her, smothering his yawning mouth up against her gushy flesh, voraciously running his tongue over her glistening sphere of nerves. With expert precision, he runs his tongue over the delicate hood slipped over her clitoris, further exposing her sweet spot inside his hot, cavernous mouth. Her scent washes over him, flooding his receptors and sending excitement throughout his stumpy body. A distinct hint of citrus tickles his nose before it overwhelms his taste buds as he molds his pink muscle against Lune’s cunt.

A sweet yet mildly sour flavor trails across Sans’s taste buds, inciting a resonant groan from the depth of his chest. The longer he wriggles and curls his tongue against her puffy clit, the more Sans is reminded of the candy lemonheads.

shit...

i ain’t the biggest fan of candy...

His enamored eyes glaze over Lune’s sprawled form, admiring how her chest rises and falls vigorously and her waist squirms side to side. Soon, he drops his gaze, rolling his palms over the top of Lune’s thighs and gently increasing the strength of his grip, squeezing her pudgy muscles. His breath rolls over her vulva, drawing out another string of gasps from the feline monster.

but i wouldn’t mind developin’ a sweet tooth for this...

Distinctively increasing the vigor of his suckling, Sans flicks the tip of his agile tongue against Lune’s throbbing clitoris, torturing her arousal until he gets her voice to crack and shake vehemently. His hooded eyes pierce through the darkness, watching her pin her finger beans firmly against the counter, elbows pointed up at the ceiling. She curves her abdomen upward, throwing her head back, hinging her jaw open to draw in guttural breaths and release her whines—tight with agitation.

He can feel her heels slowly dig into his upper back, though he doesn’t mind what ache develops in his muscles (he’s sure June would heal him right up in the morning). Lune’s arousal smears itself across his parted lips, spreading over the corners of his mouth and dribbling down to his chin. The closer he presses himself into her, the harder his tongue wriggles against her sensitivity, groaning lowly at her wails of tormented pleasure.

“mmh... mh...”

“Ggh-! Haah-! Haa... hh... ahhh-! Mgh-!” Lune writhes atop the counter, her tail furiously curling and wagging. “Ffuck... fuck... hha! Oh, fuck! Mghh... hhahh...!”

Granting himself a momentary pause, Sans disconnects his sodden lips from Lune’s drenched cunt, her viscous arousal clinging to his skin and shining beneath the luminosity of the moonlight. He roughly pants against her exposed pussy, the tip of his trembling tongue merely peeking out from his unhinged jaw. Cerulean eyes take in the sight of Lune’s defenseless form, stretched out across the counter.

Her body is slightly contorted, shaking underneath a veil of opalescent scintillation casting through their large windows from the living room. Lune’s arms are pinned above her head, claws attempting to dig into the firm granite, though they make no progress. Her ears are deemed too weak to perk up, lying flat against the counter, their golden tips tickled by the chill of their countertop.

As Sans’s hot breath coasts over Lune’s saturated cunt, she sharply inhales, twitching uncontrollably before attempting to withdraw her sensitive core away. She is stopped by Sans’s tight grip, another slew of whines reverberating within her throat.

“Hngg... mmh...”

“sensitive thing, aren’t ya?” Sans hums, his lips ghosting over her glistening folds. “i’m still starving, y’know?”

Lune’s eyes instinctively squeeze themselves shut, more whimpers rolling off her golden tongue.

“such a good little kitty,” he mumbles, licking his lips, gulping down her citrus-y arousal. “mm... sweetest dessert i’ve ever had, too...”

Without sparing a second, Sans guides his hands over the sides of her thighs before he presses them to the undersides. Gripping her girthy thighs, Sans presses them up, forcing her calves to slide off his back. Her toes hit the edge of the counter, instantaneously curling against the edge, digging her extended claws into the ceramic material hiding underneath. She now remains laying on her back, legs folded up and separated just enough that Sans could slip his head right between her chunky thighs.

“well, damn, just look at you,” remarks the man, his thumbs massaging deeply into the bottoms of her thighs. “yer just soaked, huh? you just can’t wet for me to dive back in.”

“Hhnggg... nn-... hh...” Lune whines, clenching her eyes shut as if it will save her from whatever humiliation is bound to wash over her.

Sans croons as he lowers his lids, observing the way her legs tremble against his strength and her cunt flutters around emptiness.

“d'aww... is my pretty kitty too shy to ask for more?” He leans closer, keeping her legs pinned just far enough from one another that he is able to peek through. “i’m okay with hearing a nice “please” from ya, sweetie...”

Clamping her lips shut, Lune noticeably shakes on the granite countertop, her tail whipping once before withdrawing to her side. She attempts to press her legs together, but she is weak against Sans’s hands, her sensitivity now strung-out and decreasing her will to resist.

“Mfh... hhu... nn-...” Lune peeks an eye open, ignoring how unsteady her vision is as she looks down at Sans’s smug expression. “No,” she musters out, albeit her voice is thin and fickle.

Rather than display his aggravation for her resistance, Sans merely grins and bends down to ghost his lips against her shimmering folds, breathing over her gummy creases without ever moving an inch. He feels her legs jerk against his hands, hoping to squeeze themselves shut, but he refuses to let her.

“Mh-! Hhah-... ngh...” Lune throws her head back, fingers firmly pressing into a rock solid surface. Her SOUL writhes deeply inside her chest, droning loudly enough to get Lune to purr. “Ff-Fuck! Ffine-! Puh-... ngh-! Please...!”

Sans chuckles, “sheesh, was that so hard?”

Lune’s throat trills with a quiet grumble, her eyes squinting open, staring up at a blank gray ceiling, spotting individual lights installed above despite their lack of illumination. Her respite is cut short when a humid mouth attaches back onto her fluttering cunt, causing her SOUL to jump inside of her chest and luring out a startled moan.

Sans keeps a firm grip against Lune’s thighs, keeping them pressed up in order to expose more of her sodden pussy. He digs his tongue between her vulva, swirling around the aurous folds, hitting every possible nerve before slithering his muscle to her expectant opening. The muscle clamps uncontrollably as his tongue brushes against its rim, earning a prolonged moan from Lune, who squirms from pleasure.

“HAhh-! Mgh-! Ah, fuck! Hh... hff...”

Humming deeply against her drenched core, Sans pries his eyes open just enough to see Lune utterly disheveled on top of their kitchen counter. He is almost tempted to pull away again—to keep up a cycle of unbearable torture that would leave her completely ruined.

i’m not that mean...

Pressure prods at her opening before shoving itself past her barrier, drawing out a high-pitched squeal that bleeds into a winded gasping session. Lune’s toes curl into the edge of the counter, her spine curved up as pleasure surges through her form in powerful waves. Tears almost border the feline’s eyelids as she squints her eyes open, forced to feel Sans’s tongue wriggle inside of her, grazing against her gummy walls and hitting her sensitive nerves.

“Ngh-! Fff-... fu-ck... oh... hAH-!” Lune gasps, pushing against Sans’s hands unconsciously while squeezing around his tongue.

Listening to his lewd slurping, Lune furiously blushes and sinks her claws into the counter, hardly chipping the material. With so much arousal and pleasure running through her, Lune cannot keep herself from throwing her head back, stirring her fur. She parts her lips, golden tongue threatening to loll out as Sans curls his deep inside, a yelp escaping her when he firmly nudges her g-spot (which he discovered rather quickly).

Enraptured by her sounds and taste, Sans lets out a low moan against her pussy, dexterously rolling and swirling his tongue past her opening. He runs the flat of his tongue up into her g-spot, repeatedly coiling the tip of his tongue back to stimulate her sensitivity. His eyes peer open, gazing from between Lune’s thighs to scrutinize the way she violently trembles from his amorous affections.

Seeing her chest increasingly rise and fall, Sans studies her body language further, momentarily creasing his brows with concentration. She jolts atop the granite, curling her toes intensely while gasping frantically, her cunt unconsciously clamping and pulsing around his thrusting muscle.

“Hng-! hAH-! HAa... hn... mmgh...” Lune whimpers, legs and arms losing their strength. “Ffuckk... ah... ah! Oh, f-fuck... mng–” her features contort tightly–“Ss-Sans... p-... please...! Agh-!”

As much as the short human would like to pry his eager lips from Lune’s fluttering pussy to watch her break down sobbing—utterly ruined by her orgasm vanishing before her—he decides to spare mercy. He doesn’t seem to notice how goosebumps rise over his exposed skin as his name rolls off her lips (is this the first time she’s called him by name tonight?).

huh...

Fascination glistens inside of Sans’s eyes, fixated on Lune’s reclined form.

didn’t realize i liked hearin’ luney saying my name so much

Slightly embarrassed, he lowers his gaze.

i’m so fucking hard, too.

Moans and whines ring out across the platform of their shared apartment, possibly soaking into their walls, or leaking out from their front door. Lune’s slender and fluffy body twists with bliss, overcome with a jarring numbness the instant Sans hums against her dripping cunt. A sensation Lune can only describe as pure endorphins and ecstasy cruises over her, tension seizing every possible muscle in her body—inevitably clamping her cunt around Sans’s tongue.

“Mgh-... HAAh-! Ahh... ahh... hha... m-mgh...” she gasps, dropping her arms above her head.

“hmm... mh...” Sans deeply moans, lips suckling on her pulsating folds.

He is deliberate with keeping his lips pressed firmly against her sodden cunt, gulping down every bit of clear arousal leaking from her clenching hole. Slowly, his pale lids peel open, staring Lune down both affectionately and greedily.

Her lips part, desperately swallowing as much air as her otherworldly lungs will let her. Lune’s moans are dramatically lowered in volume, coming out mumbled as her lips begin to seal themselves shut. She shakes, her bliss ebbing away and leaving behind an almost delirious look over her face.

The feline pants, “Hhf-... haa... hnh...”

“nice, huh?” Sans breathes out, his lips and chin glossed with her juices. “you sounded... hhf-... real nice sayin’ my name like that...”

Typically, the feline would snap to her senses and jerk up to face Sans—her face distorted in such a way it’d make him grin even more—, eventually concocting a virulent set of words to throw his way out of denial. Instead, she stays lying back, still hoping to gather her wits after experiencing such an overwhelming orgasm.

Lune blearily gazes at the ceiling, weakly moaning before wincing when the same set of hands plastered beneath her thighs clamps her waist. Albeit trembling the entire time, Lune slightly lifts her head to look down, observing how Sans stretches her sore legs out and over the edge of the countertop. She is startled when he utilizes his strength to pull her toward him, ears perking up and glowing in sync with her freckles.

“H-Huh...?”

“i wanna make ya scream my name like that again...” Sans utters, staring up at Lune with a devilish glint in his eyes—it almost appears uncanny to the feline. “i’m hard as a brick, too... heh... guess you could say i’m ready ta rock yer world.”

Oh...

My fucking god...

I can’t... believe this guy is the same one that ate me like I was his last meal...

“...eh...” Lune blinks. “You—”

“you didn’t think we were done, didja?”

“Eek-!”

Jerking, Lune is suddenly pulled just close enough to the edge of the counter she can easily revolve around to face the counter on her stomach... which is exactly what happens. Sans’s hands precisely maneuver her body in order to stand right up against the counter, knees practically glued to the cabinet beneath.

Lune’s skirt immediately flaps down on the front of her thighs, tickling her fur. She plasters her golden finger pads against the counter, ears plainly erect (clearly not the only thing erect too), hyper aware of each and every sound shifting through the atmosphere. Her tail curls up, swaying with reluctance, almost as if it is anticipating the unexpected.

“shit...”

Her ear snaps to the side.

“just feel how hard ya made me, pretty kitty...” Sans groans, his spongy hands clinging onto Lune’s hips and pulling her to firmly press her glistening cunt against a swollen lump rising beneath a thin layer of cotton.

“Hck-! NGhh-...” Lune chokes on her own spit, her head instantly dropping between her shoulders as her dripping folds forcibly part against the smooth fabric of Sans’s dress pants—her juices now smeared and soaked into his crotch. “Haah... hha... hgh...”

Sans pants, his round cheeks furnished with crimson, “hah... i know yer my pretty kitty...” His jaw aches as he clenches his teeth, strained groans trickling from his vocal cords. “but guess i’m glad... hhf-... t-ta know i get ya moanin’ like a bitch in heat, heh...”

As ashamed as Lune normally is for sparing Sans a visible reaction, she does nothing but whine to herself and press her closed eyes into the back of her hands. She pants heavily against the counter, ignorant to the way her breath builds a thin layer of condensation across the granite.

“hha... you’re always one ta like it ruff, too...”

Oh, my God.

I’ll...

Fucking kill you...

Wh-When...

I’m nn-normal...

“shit... ha... don’t think i can handle bein’ mean to the both of us... a-any longer,” mutters the short human, beads of salty sweat glissading down his distorted features.

Vvvhp...

The rattle of Sans’s fly causes Lune to grit her teeth, shuddering expectantly, her ears flopping down—they lack any ounce of strength to stand tall. A sliver of illumination peeks out as she squints her eyes open, staring down at the uneven patterns of granite rock installed beneath her, briefly noticing her reflection staring back up at her. She almost growls at how fluffy and disheveled her fur has become, irritated at herself for crumbling so quickly underneath this human’s touches and ministrations.

Her lips part, prepared to snarl at the smug human pressed up against her, but she is robbed of any words when a rigid warmth grazes between her silken folds; small, nearly indistinct bumps tickling her bundle of nerves, which she quickly discerns as veins riding up against her. A breathless yelp leaves her, arousal charging throughout her lower abdomen like a bolt of lightning struck her.

Electricity runs through her figmental veins, forcing her body to curl into the counter and writhe uncontrollably. Lune whines, instinctively attempting to press her thighs together. Her pitiful attempt does nothing in stopping the human from plunging his hardened cock between her legs, grinding her dripping cunt down against the top.

“Hah-... HG-! Ahh... hha... ah...” Lune pants heavily, tensing her jaw to grind her sharp teeth together. “Gnh... hhf...”

She jerks when Sans’s cock incidentally lifts the thin layer of flesh hiding her clitoris, stimulating her sensitivity, slathering her arousal all over his length. Her pleasure coils around her, forcing every muscle in her body to succumb to a sensation of numbness, arms resting around her head, occasionally stretching her claws out to graze the stone beneath her.

Grunting lowly, Sans maintains a steady grip on the monster’s hips, pressing his into her ass. His cerulean gaze falls when a fluffy cord appears to coil around one of his wrists, spotting Lune’s tail weakly wrapping around his skin. He has half a mind to smirk to himself, heart racing inside of his chest as he pumps his cock against Lune’s aurelian cunt, panting at her heat running over his flesh.

Arousal and juices practically envelop Sans’s well-endowed cock as he glides between her squishy thighs, his excitement rising when her lewd wetness fills the air in crackles.

“hah... hhf... well... shit...” he breathlessly chuckles. “there’s, ngh-... nn-no way you... could deny how... mmh- hh-horny you are... just... hha... listen.”

Her hips are jolted back, ass forced up against Sans’s pelvis. His dick thrusts right up against her cunt, a sickeningly lewd crinkling filling the air.

“AH-! HNg-... agh-!” Lune yelps, recoiling her arms to cover her mouth. Burning tears line her lower lids, glinting in the moonlight painting their home.

A low groan of approval vibrates within Sans’s chest, tickling his ribcage. He glances at the back of Lune’s head, observing her drop her head to look at her front.

Lune lowers her head, her eyes gradually peeling open just enough that she can see the front of her skirt lightly flap up, though she is unable to see Sans’s thrusting cock peek from between her squishy thighs. Her freckles glow brightly in the dark, arousal coursing through her like beads of rain dribbling down a window.

“Hha-! Hh... hhf... hahh... mgh...”

“hah... oh, fuck... hff... that’s-... that’s it...” he exhales, “oh, shit... hhf... don’t think-... hahh... don’t think i can wait much-... mngh-... much lon-ger...”

“...-ase...” mumbles Lune.

Sans’s movements slow, keeping his thick erection pinned up against her fluttering pussy. He raises a brow, squeezing her hips.

“...care ta repeat that, babe?”

“Mghh...” Her ears lose their strength instantaneously, drooping down until they fall flat against the sides of her head. “...p-... pl-... -ease...”

A single thrust.

“MNg-!”

“tsk... i can’t seem ta thrust my ears right now... so, i might have ya repeat that again, sweetheart.”

“Nngh...” Lune’s teary eyes squint open, staring across their counter with a look of annoyance crossing her face. “Ffuck... please... mgh...”

Friction is added to her cunt again, only to freeze once more.

“Hgck-!”

“mmmm... plllleeease what?” Sans grins, hands trembling at her hips.

Lune coughs and whines. She stretches her body as far as she can, arms lunging out and digging their claws into the granite, aches developing at the rings of flesh connecting her faded yellow claws to her black, furry fingers.

“HNG-! Please... hahh- please, ff-fuck me already!” She complains, her needle-like teeth clenched together.

“heh,” Sans huffs, hips painstakingly slow with recoiling from Lune’s ass, intentionally dragging his length down her fleshy cunt. “took ya long enough.”

She grumbles, “Sh-Shut up...”

“you like this too much,” Sans chuckles, gliding his palm down the curve of her ass in order to grip his pulsating length, hissing under his breath when he spies pearlescent beads springing from his urethra. His cheeks burn red at the sight of his precum seeping out until it glissades over the arc of his tip.

shit, i am horny.

Lune’s ears flick the second they capture slippery crinkles, gasping frantically when a heated pressure traces up and down her slit, forcibly parting her gummy folds—ignorant to the thin, glossy threads coating her aurous flaps. Curving her spine, Lune pants, mindlessly attempting to roll her hips back to receive more stimulation. A tight moan streams from her lips when Sans’s grip fixes itself on her hip, eyelids squeezing themselves shut.

“ohh... fu-... fuck...” Sans breathes out, his heart and SOUL practically thumping in sync with Lune’s pulsing cunt.

He grits his teeth, smearing her juices all over the head of his cock before he eventually gets tired of his own teasing. Sans, still maintaining a grip on his throbbing cock, leads his hips closer, pressing his tip directly against Lune’s fluttering hole, groaning at her eagerness every time she instinctually clamps down.

Lune, with a fine and delicate voice, whines as tension builds around her opening, cunt forcibly parting to swallow Sans’s cock head—pleasure and hints of discomfort rippling over her. Shuffling atop the counter, Lune draws her arms in to press her mouth into the crook of her arm, effective in stilling her lustful sounds. Pressure continues pressing into Lune’s fluttering cunt, her rim stretching out in order to accommodate Sans’s girth, until finally the ring of flesh surrounding his cock head snaps in and remains pressed up against her gummy walls.

“HHAh-! Ahh... hffh... m-mgh...” Lune’s moans are absorbed into her furry arms, maintaining a low volume within their apartment.

“hhf-... oh... ffuck...” Sans groans, droplets of his perspiration glissading down his contorted expression. His fingers press further into Lune’s hips, unconcerned by the concept of possibly bruising her—he’s lost count of the times he’s gripped onto June like this and discovered no signs of bruises or sores the next day. “fuck, that’s good. mgh... sheesh, wh-what a mess... hahh... oh, fuck...”

His teary eyes descend to reach the sight of his tip penetrating Lune’s glistening cunt, her aurelian folds pulsing in tune with her SOUL. Arousal dribbles from Lune’s opening, wrapping around the head of Sans’s cock, creating a lustrous ring of their sticky fluids. Sans’s cerulean eyes lock onto Lune’s pussy, intently studying how her fleshy opening clamps instinctively, attempting to suck in more of his length.

Groaning under his breath, Sans presses his hips closer, slipping more of his girth into Lune’s sopping cunt. He is overwhelmed by waves of pleasure, grunting at her tightness when he finally thrusts his length inside, goosebumps traveling over his heated body at the loud moan rolling over Lune’s tongue. All the air from his lungs leaves him in the form of a satisfied groan, cheeks now flushed with the blood furiously pumping throughout his stocky form.

“haah... hff-... hh... oh... sh-shit... hha... mgh... y-...” Blearily, Sans groans and looks up at the back of Lune’s head, which now hangs between her trembling shoulders. “y’feel... mnh-... ss-so fuckin’ good ‘round me... haa...”

“Mgh... hng... hh...” Lune, engrossed in her staggering bliss, is unable to give Sans a proper response, only releasing hurried whines and trembling moans. “Ngh... mmh... ah...”

Lune remains spread over the countertop, legs trembling—possibly unable to keep her standing anymore—, and her arms slightly held out before her. Her tail uncurls itself from Sans’s wrist, swaying in the air from an overabundance of endorphins rushing through her body. She pants heavily, her insides stuffed with Sans’s thick and veiny cock, his tip nudging her g-spot almost perfectly.

Shaking in her spot, Lune presses herself harder against the counter, a sensation similar to chills waving over her as the cool of the granite grazes her hidden skin. Lune’s ears flick for a moment before flopping back, too weak to stand up on their own.

“ffuck,” curses the human, gliding his palms further down to place his hands on a better spot. His lips weakly spread into a lopsided grin, face hot and shining under the curtain of moonlight. “heh, i don’t think i can, hff- ww-wait anymore, luney...”

Dragging his hips back, Sans pulls his cock further out, now revealing that his shaft is coated with a thin, glossy layer of their juices. His heart and SOUL jump in sync at the pornographic sight, moaning at how quickly Lune’s cunt is to react to his movement.

“nGH-! Ah, ahh... haa-! Oh, fuck...!” Mewling within their kitchen, Lune’s hair rises and her body writhes, tail curling tightly above her ass. “Haah... ggck...”

“hah... damn... ss-sensitive, huh?”

“Hng... pl-... please...”

“mmh...?” Sans slows his hips, staring at Lune’s backside until his gaze trails to the back of her head. He sharply inhales when she slightly shoves her hips back, effectively forcing his length to probe a little deeper.

The feline monster squints her golden eyes open, excitement and lust crowding her SOUL and sending her into a state of pure fervor. No longer does she feel shame or fury for her loss in this subconscious battle of power. Lune stretches her arms further out, forcing out her yellow-ish claws to dig into the dense granite, golden freckles sparkling across her features. Grinding her teeth momentarily, Lune whines and throws in her imaginary towel, finally giving in to her need.

“Hck-! Please, Sans...!” Wails the black cat, pathetically jerking her hips back. “Please... ff-fuck me! Hnng-! Fuck me, please-!”

well, shit...

maybe she’s hornier than me...

Breathing in nothing but her enthralling scent, mixed with her utterly libidinous words, Sans is motivated to thrust his hips back into her ass, shoving his cock deep inside her drenched hole. He pants heavily, lungs burning and heart pounding, but he doesn’t care.

“y’wanna get fucked...?” He huffs, lowering his lids slightly.

With his dick ramming back in at seemingly full force, pressing against her g-spot at such an angle, Lune gasps and loudly moans, uncaring if any neighbors hear (they probably do, and might give them a heads up in the morning). She falls flat on her chest, pressing her hot cheek against the granite, her entire body rocking forward—in tune with Sans’s direct thrusts.

“AGH-! Ahh... ahh...! Hng-! Fuckk-... fuck... mngh-... fuck me, Sans! HAh-!” She pants, her voice tight with pleasure.

“haff... hff... since-... since my pretty kitty finally knows what-... mgh... what she wants,” mumbles Sans, lowering his gaze in order to lift a hand and grab Lune’s tail within seconds. He tugs it back, almost as if intending to draw Lune closer to him while he juts his hips forward. “guess i have no choice but... mnh-... to give ‘er what she, haa-... wants...”

“hAHH-! Hahh, haa... hhhn...” Lune’s moans dramatically increase in volume, a deliciously powerful sensation riding up her spine as Sans tugs on her tail. She claws at the granite, hanging her jaw open in order to gulp as much air as she can. “Ahh... hha, hhf-... hn-! Ffff-... hah-! AH-!”

Sans’s lower abdomen tenses with each deliberate thrust he makes, burrowing his dick quicker and deeper into Lune’s willing cunt. A satisfied groan leaves his lips as he tugs on Lune’s tail again, grunting roughly and glancing down to watch her ass collide into his pelvis, stuffing his veiny cock past her slick opening. He listens to her high-pitched mewls, beads of sweat traveling down his concentrated expression before a devilish grin cracks across his lips.

His skin slaps into her fluffy body, subduing their lewd noises—somewhat—, forcing his tip to repeatedly prod at her g-spot. Shivers crawl down his back as Lune unleashes a flood of breathless groans, her cunt uncontrollably clamping around him.

“hah-... hff-... heh...” Sans continues plowing his cock deep inside of the feline monster, bending over slightly to stretch his arm out to grasp the crook of Lune’s neck. The new anchor he has on her body easily gives Sans the vantage of burying his cock with solid juts of his hips. He pants and lifts his head up, giving the back of Lune’s head a crooked grin. “so, hff- you just keep, hh-... hatin’ humans ‘cos they’re... hah... all awful...”

Lune whines, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as her body rocks forward each time Sans ruts into her, her head gradually tilting back in order to face the ceiling. Her jaw hangs wide open, allowing her tongue the freedom to loll out and hang mindlessly (ironically in the fashion of a dog). She draws in sharp breaths, gasping and whining every time her g-spot is nudged by the bulbous head of Sans’s cock.

“but... hha-... when yer... mhh- gettin’ fucked silly by one, it’s... ah... it’s suddenly fine, huh?”

Violently, Lune breathes in and out through the cavern of her mouth, golden tongue shimmering in its own slaver, beads of translucence gaining weight from the back of her tongue before they skim down unevenly. Drops of spit dribble from Lune’s gaping mouth, splatting on the once-pristine granite counter.

Her spine curves up, arms tense and outstretched in front of her, where they are relentless in clawing into the granite. Lune moans loudly, unable to process the connotation of Sans’s words with his girth repeatedly slamming into her sensitive walls.

“mgh... hehe... what’s the matter?” Chuckles the clean-shaven human, who presses his upper body against her shuddering back. “cat got yer tongue?”

Instead of snapping back, Lune mewls, ears twisting back and capturing each and every sound caused by the collision of Sans’s pelvis and her ass. She can hear the crackles of her wet cunt as it swallows Sans’s cock, his balls—now taut with his load—repeatedly slap against her clitoris. Lune’s face glows brighter, cunt squeezing tightly around his thickness until she weakly drops her head between her shoulders, one of which is still clamped on by Sans’s hand.

“Hgnn-! Hah-! Ahhh... oh, fff-... hhf... ahh, ahhh-!”

“mmg... hng... ahh, fuck, luney...” groans the human, pressing his face between the blades of her shoulders. He deeply inhales her addictive scent, his hips continuing to rut into Lune, though his hands possess a tremor. “fuck, ss-so good... y’feel so good... mmgh... just want... haa-... just want you. fuck... yy-yer gonna... mmgh-... gonna make me... cum soon...”

“AGh-! Hahh-! Ss-... hhu... Sans...” Lune finally gathers enough wit to utter his name, her fingers trembling as they scratch at the counter. Her skirt flaps against the front of her fluffy thighs, out of sync when it comes to each thrust Sans drives into her, his length easily gliding into her pussy. “Hha... ‘m-... ‘m... cc-... cl-ose...”

“hff... yeah...?” Sans tightens the grip he has on her shoulder, entirely lost to the world in terms of mental clarity.

All he can think about, all he can smell, all he can feel is Lune. All that matters to him right now is her. With his amor rising, Sans makes a particularly sharp jerk toward Lune’s g-spot, tiredly grinning at her squeal—knowing she could never restrain such a sound. His cock slides in and out her sloppy cunt, their juices and arousal leaking out and dripping either on the floor or on his pants.

“eh-... ey, lune...” Sans pants, “hgh-... who’s... mm-making ya feel like this?”

Writhing, Lune cannot contain her almost shameful whines, tears streaming down her face as her chest slides up and down the countertop. She shakes, knowing what the human is trying to get her to do, but for a moment, she withholds her voice from speaking. She refuses to give him the pleasure of knowing who’s rendered her so weak and disheveled.

“luuneyyy...” He uses the strength in his position to bury his dick faster, earning a sharp yelp of pleasure from the feline. “i, hff-... asked ya a question... hng...”

Lune sobs the instant his cock head pokes at her g-spot repeatedly, forcing waves of pleasure to hit her over and over. She is ignorant to how her limbs tremble and her tail tightly coils itself around his arm.

“MGh-! Yy-You, Sans-! Mmgh-! Y-... you a-are...!”

“mmh... and who’s—ngh—the one ta... ah- put up with yer shit?”

“Ngh-! You-! You... are-!” She sobs.

“whose-... hgck-! whose cock’s got you makin’ this much... ngh-... noise?”

Lune sharply gasps, her body jerking forward with each collision her ass makes with his lower abdomen.

“AGH-! Y-Yours, Sans-! Yours...! Mghhh... please... hng...”

Sans parts his lips, drawing in deep breaths of air before he releases them in heavy gasps, pulling his hips out just enough to keep his tip inside the barrier of Lune’s cunt before he buries it further inside. He shakes behind Lune, body curving forward, unable to withstand this relentless fucking for much longer.

“hah... mgh... nh... who’s... who’s the only one–” his thrust is particularly hard–”who can make ya cum like this? huff-... i want-... mgh... i wanna name...”

Her lips part, prepared to relay the one name that’s been circulating through her mind this entire night, but she is alarmed by a pressure suddenly circling her clitoris. She recognizes it is the warmth of Sans’s fingers that toy with her sensitivity, instantly stifled by her strained voice leaving her in the form of a desperate whine—laced with a breathlessness that suggests she is unbearably close to her climax... all she needs is an extra push.

“Ngh—”

“hck- c’mon, lune,” Sans grunts, suddenly slithering his arm beneath her arm and stretching it across her chest in order to grab her other shoulder from the front, forcing her body to lean back closer to him. He brushes his lips by the side of her ear, which—he spies—remains flat against her head. “i wanna hear ya loud... mngh-... and clear... who’s makin you cum like this?”

Like a taut string that’s been creeping between a gaping pair of scissors until it is finally snipped in half, Lune’s orgasm snaps through her, cunt clamping forcefully around Sans’s buried dick while her head unconsciously throws itself back. Her SOUL pounds violently against her vessel, buzzing loudly and swelling.

“S-SANs-! AhH-! AAh... hha... ggck... S-Sans...!” Lune proclaims, her voice shaking and utterly wracked with bliss. Her tongue practically unravels itself from within her mouth, rolling out and drooping over the curve of her lower lip. “Hnggg-! Hhah-!”

“mngh-! fffuck... ahg-!” Sans buries the lower half of his face into Lune’s fuzzy shoulder, his sounds muffled and absorbed into her fur as his cock twitches inside her hot and wet pussy, unloading every droplet of his cum.

Wincing in her place, Lune vehemently pants, hoping to catch her breath as a thick pressure builds in her pelvic area. She trembles uncontrollably within Sans’s arms, every muscle etched inside her body tight and sore. Keeping her ears bent back, Lune slowly attempts to relax herself on top of the counter, leaning into the arm coiled around her front and refraining her from laying flat against the countertop.

Pearly beads of cum seep from Lune’s fleshy opening, glissading over Sans’s skin and gathering beneath his cock until it trickles over Lune’s folds and splatters on the floor.

“Hgn... hah... hhf... hh...” Panting, Lune slowly lowers her lids until her eyes are entirely shut, quietly whimpering when the cock stuffed inside of her jerks slightly from the aftermath of its release.

“hha... huff... hhn...” Almost in unison with Lune, Sans breathes heavily and blinks almost wearily, his arms possessing a conspicuous tremble after exerting so much of his recently discovered energy. “ffuck... that’s good...” he mumbles into her shoulder, tiredly lifting and lowering his lids. “mm, y’did so good fer me, luney...”

For a moment, Lune is perplexed by the mutter until she feels a pair of lips press a prolonged kiss onto her shoulder blade, her SOUL jumping within her chest. Slowly, she groans and rests her entire weight forward, relieved to feel Sans slithering his arm from her chest in order to allow her to lay her front against the countertop. Her hips are massaged by both of Sans’s hands, his thumbs pressing up and down in a subtle curve, hoping to knead any sores away before they even get a chance to develop under her flesh.

Lune groans against the counter, fur stood up and her ears now flopped on the granite. Her claws release their death grip muscle by muscle, deliberately stretching out in order to release whatever tension lingers in her fingers before her claws sink back into her fingertips. She can still feel aches pounding at each tip of her digits, but she quickly determines it is not unbearable.

Pap. Pap.

She quietly huffs, golden eyes peering through her squinted lids to study their dim surroundings. Her ear jumps slightly when she hears Sans obnoxiously clear his throat, quickly losing her blissful expression by furrowing her brows and hardening her stare. His hands pat her hips, clearly intending to capture her attention.

“so,” Sans starts off, his breathing now returning to a steady, even flow. “mew that we’re all, hff-... calm now.”

He gently rubs her hip, grinning with an almost giddy glint in his eyes.

“was i... fur-tunate enough ta purr-suade ya, pretty kitty?”

I’m going to kill him.

𝐅𝐈𝐍. (3/3)

⭒⭒⭒

Tomato sauce fused with hints of pepperoni and cheese lingers within the room, reminding Sans of the unhealthy yet utterly delicious meal he and Lune shared moments ago on their gray couch. His throat is tickled by a pleasant hum, sinking his chubby body further into the plush of their couch, carefully lowering his hand to rest on Lune’s shoulder.

Sans—now comfortably planted on the couch—stares at the illuminant rectangle sitting across him in their living room, watching as Gabriela, the female protagonist of the show, swings her arm back before delivering a sharp slap to the man, who was seeking the attention of her twin cousin Ramona. He stares with a serene smile plastered across his mildly chapped lips, briefly snaking his tongue out to lick up tomato sauce adhered to the corner of his mouth.

Despite how bizarre it is, Lune is silent as she lays her head on a pillow situated atop Sans’s lap, ears stretched out and reclined against the fabric. With a somewhat bored expression, she glues her aurous gaze onto the television screen, observing Marcó whip his head back, hand fixed on his baffled face.

“Gabriela, ¡¿por qué me lastimas así?!” He exclaims.

Gabriela’s features scrunch up, her sun-kissed face almost burning.

“¿Por qué quieres decir "por qué"? ¡Porque me rompiste el corazón antes de recibir el tuyo!”

“...G-... Gabriela...”

“snff-! ¡No puedo hacer esto, Marcó!” Gabriela declares, stomping her foot and preparing to turn away.

Lune slowly blinks, momentarily flinching when a hand cups the side of her face and slides down. Wrinkles emerge over the top of her nose as she parts her lips, her fangs glinting under the light of the screen, a subtle hissing fanning from the back of her throat.

“mmh—”

Sans winces as well, instinctively lifting his hand and batting his gaze down on the feline monster, who stares back up at him with a single eye open.

“...too much...?” He dares to ask.

“...” Lune narrows her eye, pulling her gaze away. “Tch-... you almost poked my eye...”

Heat rushes up Sans’s face, a bead of sweat slipping down his sheepish expression. He plasters his hand back on Lune’s exposed shoulder, rubbing small circles on her shoulder blade. His gentle motion ceases when the black cat grumbles quietly.

“...I... didn’t say you should stop...” she murmurs, furrowing her eyebrows and squeezing her eyes shut.

“i—”

Blinking dumbly, he gawks down at Lune, who seems to release all tension in her features as she eases up on his lap. Slowly, his lips stretch into a calm smile, taking the initiative to lift his hand and tenderly brush his digits down her smooth, black fur.

His heart skips a beat when the back of her neck vibrates quietly, quickly recognizing it as a noise of delight.

Sitting on the couch wearing only an oversized white tee and his gray boxers, Sans happily continues stroking Lune’s fur, giving the back of her ear an occasional scratch before he trails his attention down to her close-eyed face. He smiles at how lax her face is, not permeated with a distinct venom she typically carries.

Prrrrr...

“...luney?” Sans mumbles.

Lune hums, “Mmh...?”

Keeping his cerulean eyes fixated on Lune, who simply wears one of his white sweaters from last winter, Sans gulps almost anxiously.

“you... don’t think i’m... a bad human... do you?”

“...”

“...”

She shuffles, turning her head further away.

“...?” Sans slows his loving caresses.

“...you... can’t be a bad human...” she softly mutters.

“mh—” He slightly winces, a soft, rosy tint saturating his round cheeks.

“...because you’re my human...” Lune grumbles, hiding her face into the girth of the pillow to conceal all the golden freckles shining through her fur.

“...”

Smiling, Sans chuckles and bends forward, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“i love ya, luney...”

“guess you got served anyway, huh?” The short man remarks, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket. With a suave mannerism he rarely possesses, Sans turns away and approaches the exit.

Knowing Lune must be on her way to their apartment, Sans wastes no time in pulling the door open (holy shit, he didn’t expect the door to be so heavy) and stepping out into the street. He is immediately greeted with car horns in the distance, subway rails screeching and hissing, and vigorous whirring—which he quickly determines to be the airplanes soaring through the night sky.

Slowly, he tilts his head back, hoping to admire the obsidian sky. His hopeful glance dims when he notices a murky veil drifting across the sky, obscuring the stars he naturally enjoys watching. A small frown plays across his lips, disappointed by the city air spoiling his view of the resplendent stars sparkling and singing way up high. The stars, however, don’t even compare to the radiancy of her eyes... her eyes, even if they hold nothing but bitterness his way, always do well in captivating him. They sparkle like no other star. He loves it when she keeps that look of mischief in her eyes. It reveals her true nature... an impish delight she often tries to mask.

Lowering his chin, Sans blinks and turns in the direction of his and Lune’s apartment, sighing deeply to himself before lifting a foot and starting his journey in following Lune.

she couldn’t have gone far...

His shoulders occasionally bounce with each step, nostrils burning with each sharp inhale he takes. Hints of cigarette smoke paired with gasoline tickles Sans’s sense of smell, earning him an abrupt sniffle before he runs his digit across the underside of his nose.

It does not take Sans too long to catch up to the familiar silhouette of Lune, whose pace is noticeably slow and almost crestfallen. He perks up at the sight of her sunken shoulders and folded ears, slightly hurrying his pace in order to wind up at her side. His cerulean eyes squint in the dimness, falling down to observe the way her tail hardly moves as she traverses down the sidewalk.

When the pair approach a street lamp, Sans’s squinting comes to a halt, his hairless brows releasing whatever tension they held above his nose. He looks back up at Lune, studying her profile.

Her whiskers, which—he regularly notices—protrude out on any average day, now dip with a subtle curve, tenderly bouncing every time she takes a step. His eyes fly up to her ears, scrutinizing the dim glow of their tips even as they lay in a somewhat droopy state. Her fur is noticeably damp when the two travel beneath a halo of light, raven strands now clumped into bigger threads across her face, decreasing the subtle details she possesses on her face.

“...” She stays quiet, keeping her slitted gaze forward.

“...” Sans also stays quiet, but he lowers his eyes from Lune’s face to the concrete beneath him. His teeth momentarily chew on the inside of his cheeks before he lifts his chin, fixating his attention back onto Lune’s indifferent expression.

“...lune?”

Nothing.

They keep walking.

“...you... okay?”

Silence.

All Sans receives is a pattern of their footsteps. Huffing quietly, Sans calmly returns his attention onto the sidewalk, observing each particular crack they walk over. He feels individual pebbles dig into the soles of his tennis shoes, though he says nothing about the uneven course.

If it were June he was walking alongside with, he’d make a stupid observation about something and fill in the gaps of their conversation with dumb jokes. Even if his jokes were the dumbest of the dumb, June always laughed at them. It’s truly one of the things he admires about June... her sweetness.

Now, he realizes, it’s quite difficult to stir up conversation between him and Lune. In all nine months of dating Lune... he’s learned she’s the gloomiest and high-strung monster he’s ever met. He thinks he’s only seen her smile, albeit maliciously, about four or five times. Every other expression she makes is either a grimace, a glare, or a blank, unimpressed look.

“...” Sans curls his digits as they camp in his pockets. “yy-... y’know... the people... in that restaurant back there...” he starts off, daring another glimpse at her impassive expression. “they... they actually told her off... defended ya... which is—”

“Is this you trying to make me feel better?” Lune’s detached voice cuts through his words.

“mm—” Sans blinks, surprise flashing across his cerulean eyes. “well... i guess, y—”

“It won’t work,” she growls out, fangs grinding against each other.

For a moment her narrowed eyes glare down at Sans, the golden hue cutting through the darkness and adhering to Sans’s bewildered face. Soon, she tears her focus away from his round face, fixating on the concrete path they always take on their way home.

“...”

“...”

Sans blinks, chin grazing against his collar as he stares through the obscurity of the night to study the concrete sidewalk again. Another moment of silence washes over them, though Sans is tormented with words he wants to blurt out. Every time he tries to think of how to say them, the words dissipate and retreat into the crevices of his mind. When his lips part and he draws in a breath, he is conquered by the absence of sound.

...

just say something!

she’s obviously upset.

but what the hell would i even say?

comforting people is so... hard...

this is june’s forte... not mine.

His lips separate once more, finally filling his lungs with air in order to disrupt this prolonged silence.

“knock knock,” he simply says.

Lune’s whisker eyebrows promptly meet at the bridge of her nose, folds and wrinkles alike developing in the damp fur of her forehead.

“No.”

“...”

Sans leads his eyes to observe the street, watching a car occasionally drive past before he returns his attention to the ground. He cannot help but gently smile and look back up at Lune.

“...knock knock.”

Lune grumbles, “Stop it.”

“...knock knock,” he persists.

“...”

Sans gawks at her, anticipating her next response. He watches her facial expression for an uncomfortably long time until he realizes she’s firm on remaining silent. This only incites Sans to stretch his grin even more.

“...knock knock,” he says. “c’mon, luney. you gotta answer.”

“...”

Her ears twist back, adamantly flattening themselves against her head. The feline’s furrowed expression deepens, another array of wrinkles digging into her hidden skin. Folds begin to surface on her nose, leading her upper lip to curl back slightly, pearly white fangs glinting between her lips.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Hh-He’s just trying to make you feel better!

You can also shut the fuck up.

Eh-? L-Lune, what are you—

Instinctively, Lune shoves June’s voice away, burying her essence deep into her consciousness, where she will likely throw a pity party for herself due to being blocked out. Silence conquers the breadth of Lune’s mind, promptly giving her enough headspace to unwind and cherish this moment of peace. Lune did not realize having a second consciousness in her head could give her such an aggravating headache... or perhaps she does know, she simply refuses to admit what trouble June gives her.

“knock knock.”

A distinct huff rolls off her tongue, eyelids sinking over her unimpressed stare. Lune has had enough with this fool as well.

She growls, jerking her head to finally match gazes with Sans before rolling her eyes and staring ahead.

“Who’s there?”

A giddy grin stretches across Sans’s lips, his eyelids squinting cheerfully. Mirth instantly blooms throughout his SOUL when he continues with his joke.

“paw,” he simply replies, chest shaking with excitement.

Lune sighs through her nose.

“Paw, who?”

“paw-lease talk to me, luneyyy,” he whines, throwing his head back and peeking at her with a single eye open.

“Kckk- Are you serious right now?” She gnarls, angrily batting her eyes down at the bald human male. She catches his smug expression and contorts her features, bitterly growling whilst increasing the speed of her pace. “Unbelievable... can’t believe I got stuck with you... ghrh-... mrg-...”

Sans’s shoulders jump upon observing how abrupt Lune is with hastening herself, bemusement flashing across his face. His hands jump from his pockets, patting the air worriedly as he attempts to catch up with the tall feline.

“wh-! ww-wait, lune!” He exclaims, his short legs exerting every ounce of energy they once had in order to match with Lune’s pace. “hh-heyy! c’mon, luney! talk to me! y’know you can tell me anything! yer stressin’ meow-t!”

His panic only swells when she continues traversing down the sidewalk without a hint of hesitance disturbing her stride. Beads of sweat practically leap off his distorted face, eyebrows twisted above his nose and his teeth gritted as he puts in the effort to approach Lune’s side once more.

Lune spares no response, merely tightening her venomous look and glaring at the distance ahead of her. Her tail finally springs up to life, curling and twisting from beneath her swaying skirt, the material bouncing against her damp thighs. Processing the man’s words, Lune’s eyes practically fade into complete darkness, inexplicably grotesque wrinkles emerging between her brows and on her temples.

Kckk-...

This damn comedian...

She cocks her head forward, grinding her fangs.

“lune, c’mooon! don’t be hiss-terical! i’m sure i could purr-suade ya ta turn this night around! just say someth—”

“Tch- stop acting like you want anything to do with me, clown,” Lune grits out, finally ceasing her steps and turning around to face the shaking human. She glares down at him, bending over to accusingly point at him. “There’s nothing you can say or do that’ll change my mind about you humans. You don’t know what kind of fucking misery they’ve put me and June through!”

“i—” Sans’s eyes widen, also paused in his place.

“You keep acting like everything in the world is fine! You think humans and monsters get along just fine! Everyone’s doing just fine! Stop deluding yourself into thinking everything’s FINE when it isn’t! You keep wondering why I hate humans so much. I’ll fuckin’ tell you why!

“All they’ve ever done is shove me around! All they ever do is spit in my face and tell me what a waste of space I am! Kids used to throw rocks at me back when I was just a child-! I feared for my life every fucking day because of them! They stole my joy! They fucking... th-... they stole everything from me! June was too naive to understand that those kids were insulting her to her goddamn face. All she wanted to do was make friends. All she ever wished for was ta be friendly with everybody else! No! I could never be friends with a species that ripped my brother’s eye out! I can’t be friends with a species that tells me the world would be better off if I disappeared off the face of the planet!

“I starved. I cried. I suffered. All because monsters can’t fit in the same frame as h u m a n s. A-And now... I can’t let my hopes up, ‘cause the last time I thought a human wanted to be friends with me... they just... they–” Lune pants, digits outstretched by her sides, her black fingernails now grown to resemble claws–“they... just...” Ever so slowly, Lune releases the tension in her shoulders and arms, her posture falling back into a sunken state. “...pushed me... away...” she mutters, her tail hanging limp and her ears lying flat.

“...”

Sans gawks up at her, his cerulean eyes—which naturally hold a sense of calmness and respite—now glisten with a startling realization. He lets his arms hang by his sides, dumbfounded by the revelation Lune blurted out in a state of turmoil. A turmoil Sans recognizes. It tells him she’s been restraining this suffering... for far too long.

“...” Lune’s eyes fall to the ground, her stare casting a disheartened look until it fades into the recesses of her mind once again. Instead, the feline hardens her stare, glancing back at Sans’s blank face. “...let’s just... get back.”

Sans’s jaw hangs slightly, tempted to speak out in the silence in hopes of catching Lune’s attention. He can’t find the right words to stop her. Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, Sans spies Lune’s face go blank before she turns around to carry on. Slowly, he curls his digits into fists, frustration boiling inside of him over his lack of courage to say something.

i... i didn’t...

i didn’t know...

she felt like this...

Sans’s hand drifts up, reaching the height of his chest, where he plasters his palm tenderly against the flat of his shirt and curls his fingers in the material. His SOUL thumps slowly, humming a low tune of sorrow for Lune.

i think...

that’s the most emotional thing...

she’s ever said ta me...

With nothing but silence overpowering the brisk night air, Sans decides to allow the silence to speak for him, his shoes breaking the absence of sound by thumping softly against the hard concrete. He strides by Lune’s side, no longer attempting to lift his head in order to stare obnoxiously at the evidently cheerless feline. Instead, he glues his eyes onto the path before him, hands stuffed in his pockets to keep their warmth for as long as possible.

During their stroll home, Sans does nothing except mull over Lune’s words. He analyzes each piece of information she willingly threw at him. He wonders how long Lune dealt with malicious children before they ever went into the Underground. How long did she have to fight the hostility they threw at her and June? How many times did she have to endure their revolting insults until she just couldn’t take it? How often did they threaten her life to the point where she was terrified to emerge from June’s subconscious?

Gradually, Sans’s bitter expression hardens. Sure, he knew monsters did not have it easy up here... but surely they weren’t suffering like Lune said?

Now that he thought about it, however... every time he entered the bar he frequented, there always was a stiffness in the air. He’d look around the bar and notice how each patron gawked back at him expectantly. When the door slammed shut, confirming the fact he came alone, the bar burst back to life. Laughter and chatter filled the stale air.

When June asked to come along, he’d happily oblige. Holding her by the hand, Sans led her into the bar, where the mirth and cacophony of voices died down upon spotting her. Sure, it was an all-inclusive bar... though most monsters knew the humans did not make it seem very inclusive.

It’s no wonder June stopped asking him to come along. Lune likely caught on to their uninviting behavior and convinced June not to go anymore for her own sake.

Sans’s lips curl inward, irritation bubbling within the border of his SOUL. How could he never notice? He always thought June enjoyed herself every time she visited. Evidently not.

even though most of what she said was true...

He lifts his chin, cerulean eyes rising to the sky. Amidst the umbrage of the night, he spies a few twinkling stars, inciting a small smile across Sans’s lips. Respite takes over his features, releasing the stress from his muscles and allowing him to deeply inhale.

not all humans wanna make monsters suffer.

He thinks about the time he saw a teenage human girl squeal beside another teenage girl... only she had frog-like features. They stood across the street from Sans’s workplace, clasping both of their hands together while eagerly bouncing in sync. Based on his observations, they managed to get tickets to their favorite band’s concert. The embrace they shared seemed... affectionate.

He thinks about the time he saw a lone three-eyed monster child sniffle and wipe their eyes with the sleeves of their shirt, lost in the middle of a mall. The child squeaked and darted away whenever people approached him... until a tall human woman drew near with a stuffed animal in hand. She squatted to his level and held out the lamb, quietly asking for his name and his story. Within seconds, he witnessed the child hysterically jump into her arms and sob into her shirt once promised he’d be reunited with his parents.

Sans thinks about the time he saw a group of teenage human boys cackling loudly in front of a breakfast food joint. Upon glancing over, he saw them kick a monster wearing a business suit into the glass, mocking his appearance and belittling him for even thinking he could earn a living up on the Surface. Although Sans shook with rage from across the street... he would hardly stand a chance against a group of athletes like them. Before he could do anything, however, a prominently tall man approached the crowd of teenagers.

The man had ruffled black hair and piercing orange eyes that could cut anyone with a single look. He was significantly taller than the boys and, according to the way he extended his arm and clasped a boy’s shoulder, unexpectedly strong. Sans wasn’t sure what he uttered to those boys, but it was clearly ominous enough to compel the younger humans into scattering away like a flock of birds. Following the dark-haired man was a spindly, shorter man with fluffy sandy hair who rushed to the monster’s side, offering words of concern.

Sans watched them extend their help to the visibly bruised and frightened monster, standing out of hearing range. Days after, he ironically encountered those humans again... because, for whatever strange reason, June knew the shorter man by name.

maybe...

Reluctantly, Sans lowers his gaze to Lune’s profile, studying her for an even an ounce of her thoughts. Her features remain stagnant, refusing to expose whatever may be running through her mind.

maybe... i could...

maybe i could convince lune...

not all humans are so bad... just like i think...

He smiles at her, unconcerned of whether or not she sees his fond look.

not all monsters are so bad, too.

After enduring about forty-five minutes of pure silence interrupted by an occasional observation Sans makes, Lune finally sets her eyes onto their apartment building in the distance, the structure looming over the nearby population. She sees a handful of lights shining out of windows, assuming those rooms must belong to elderly people that forgot to shut them off or stupid teenagers staying up for whatever inexplicable reason.

Her golden eyes fall onto the front door of the building, catching the sight of the security guard Gabriel, who enjoys giving the teenage tenants trouble. The other tenants, however, typically stroll by him with a word of greeting on their tongues until they reach the elevator. Lune slightly narrows her eyes, encountering the glass doors and pulling on a handle.

She listens to Sans’s footsteps thump against the concrete, her gaze glued onto Gabriel’s weary expression. When Sans’s footsteps are muffled by the carpet, Lune starts tailing him instead, her ears twisted back with skepticism.

“evenin’, gabe,” Sans greets the security guard, flashing him a lazy smile as he normally does.

The graying man smiles back, nodding with acknowledgement.

“Good evening, Sans.” He looks at Lune, his smile steady even with the tight features Lune possesses. He glances back at the significantly shorter man. “How’d the date go? The food okay?”

Sans shrugs, muttering, “couldn’t tell ya. we left due to unexpected company.”

Gabriel hums, “Sorry to hear that, son. I hope you folks have a good night, then. Rest easy.”

Lune is silent, continuing on her path to the elevator, not appearing to care if Sans tags her or not.

Gabriel scratches his nail against the skin of his temple, a light pout hanging on his lower lip. He releases a deep sigh, slowly shutting his eyes.

“Haah... ‘n I really thought I’d get a ‘goodnight’ from ‘er, too... s’what I get for hoping,” he jokingly whines, flitting his eyes down to Sans, who’s fixated onto Lune’s frame as she heads to the elevator. “Maybe next time.”

“heh...” Sans laughs, turning back to the guard, giving him a somewhat apologetic smile. “sorry ‘bout her, gabe. she’s... well, we’ve been havin’ a rough night. but, yeah, maybe next time. night, gabe.”

Gabriel huffs again, waiting around the entry of the building, where he sees Sans lazily lift an arm to wave goodbye although he’s facing away. Raising a brow, Gabriel watches Lune enter the elevator and turn around, staring Sans down with a piercing glare. Although he is aware it’s intended for Sans, Gabriel cannot help but shiver at the malicious glint in Lune’s eyes as she gawks the short, bald man down whilst he skips up to the elevator doors and hops in with her.

“I’ve never had problems with monsterfolk... ‘cept for her...” mutters the security guard, who promptly turns away and walks across the lobby (certainly not to avoid accidental eye contact).

Absent-mindedly, Sans listens as whirring takes over the cubicle when the doors in front of him slide shut. He blinks, flitting his attention to the screen on his right, Lune’s arm drifting over him to click on the floor their room is ordinarily located on. A familiar tune plays from the speaker above Lune and Sans before it is followed up by the droning sound of the elevator rising.

With nothing but silence hanging between the feline monster and stout human, the two stand and almost contemplate tonight’s events synchronously. Lune takes a step back, resting a majority of her weight against the rumbling wall. Her fur is no longer as damp as it once was when she fled the restaurant, though she finds her clothes still strive to cling onto her shape. Lifting a hand, Lune pinches the cream-colored top and flicks it forward, firmly tugging it away from her chest before she releases it with a huff rolling off of her tongue.

Her movement waves in the corner of Sans’s eyes, compelling him to glance her way and slightly raise a brow.

“...you uncomfortable?”

“...” She squints at him, ears hiding their light pink color; her lips almost scrunch inward. “Have you ever been doused in cold tap water before?”

“...” Maintaining a giddy smile, Sans pulls his gaze to the side, squinting almost eagerly. “nope.”

“You wanna find out what it feels like?”

He looks back up at her, his dorky grin lingering on his lips along with the childish sparkle in his eyes.

“nope. i think i’d just tap out,” he snorts.

I’ll kill him.

The side of Lune’s nose twitches, her facial features contorting with indescribable irritation.

“hey, lune.” Sans beams as he stares up at the tall feline, cerulean eyes practically overflowing with glee.

“...what?” She grumbles, arms crossing over her chest.

“why’s it bad ta joke about boiling water?”

A soft grumble rolls over her vocal cords, her luminous eyes rolling around before they latch back onto his smile.

“...why?”

“...‘cos it can get pretty steamy,” he says, maintaining his smile regardless of the dirty look Lune gives him. “eh? that was pretty good, ya gotta admit.”

“Just shut up...” she groans, wrinkling her brows and lowering her eyelids.

“is there a particular time of the year when a hot dog needs help?” Sans merely pauses for dramatic effect. “nah, they’re always in hot water.”

Oh, my God. I can’t stand him.

Lune squeezes her eyes even more, immersing herself in total darkness, flattening her ears as much as she can in order to muffle the human’s baritone voice.

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

He’s so stupid ‘n defenseless.

I have to keep him safe.

So dumb. Trying to fluster me with some stupid compliments.

Are my eyes really better than the stars?

“i know you just finally got ta dry up,” Sans mumbles, nonchalantly shrugging his arms. “but i wanna get cha wet again.”

HAH-?!

“Mm—”

Lune is startled enough to pry her eyes open, her golden eyes wide with a mix of horror and bewilderment. Once more, each hair tingles at the follicle, gradually rising to stand straight until all of Lune’s face appears twice as fluffy than before. The tips of her ears glow brighter as if they were ignited by a match, her eyes zeroed in on Sans’s smug face. Amidst the dark raven fur of her face, little golden freckles emerge, glowing luminously beneath the fluorescent lights installed above them.

“Hh-Hah-?!” Lune exclaims, ears flicking in an uneven pattern.

“gee, it’s like you weren’t even listenin’ to me,” Sans hums, his wink lingering when the uneasy feeling in his stomach finally settles, telling him their ride is officially over. “looks like this is our stop.”

“D-... don’t act like you didn’t just-... you didn’t just say that!” Lune blurts out, fisting her hands and stomping her foot once.

Sans peeks over his shoulder, looking up at Lune with a single eye peeled open. He grins.

“dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” the short human teases, snorting to himself upon stepping out of the cubicle.

“Kckk-! O-Oi! That wasn’t... ff-funny!” Lune stammers, unable to notice how quickly her golden freckles blossom across her cheeks. “You’re so... stupid...”

Klick

Klok

Klick

“welp...” Sans tilts his clean-shaven head back, ignorant to the way Lune squints at him when light happens to bounce right off his scalp. “here we are, i guess...”

Lune grumbles, “Yeah.”

Without sparing a minute, she approaches the frame, hands rummaging within her pocket until she is able to withdraw her set of keys. Her digits scour through each decorative keychain (courtesy of June nonetheless), an agitated curse heavy on her lips as she angrily stares at these keys in her hands. Finally, her fingers pinch the one key she was searching for and lift its jagged end to the lock of their front door.

Schkk

Shhp

Klik

With catlike precision, Lune twists and withdraws the key before she grasps the door handle and unlocks their apartment.

“yaay,” Sans cheers, “we don’t have to call the locksmith this time because the key broke.”

“Mrghh... don’t remind me,” grumbles the feline as she attaches her set of keys onto the hooks installed beside their front door. “Waiting for those idiotic people while smelling like nothing but your brother’s girlfriend’s perfume was torture.”

Sans raises his brow at her.

“i thought you liked her?”

“I... she’s... fine, just... too smelly. She’s got too much sweetness on ‘n it made me wanna throw up,” she growls, scraping her ankle until the sole of her shoe hits her other shoe, effectively pulling her feet out.

“...”

Similarly to Lune, Sans also links his keyring onto the hooks before mimicking her actions in removing his shoes. They thunk cheerlessly against the floor, flopping around another two inches then lying motionless.

Gradually, he wills himself to fixate on Lune, who firmly brushes her hands down her wrinkled and somewhat damp skirt, hoping to remove any specks or strings clinging on. His lips part, an inhale wafting into his mouth and filling his lungs with the air of their apartment, preparing his next words. As soon as he catches her gaze, it’s as if the words line up in his head like a train, all of it riding out on his tongue.

“as awful as our night went... i actually wanted ta say...” he starts, “i’m sorry about... a lot really.”

Succumbing to silence, Lune lowers her hands and pivots her ears in order to hear his words come out in his baritone voice, skepticism crossing her face for a moment.

“i didn’t know my ex-boss was gonna show up, and i was just as upset by what she did as you were. i’m sorry you had to take the splash because i’m just as defenseless as ya say i am. you shouldn’t have to take every hit the world throws my way just ‘cos i’m not as strong as i should be. i’m sorry you’ve-... you’ve had to deal with so much as a kid. i never knew how you ‘n juney grew up... but you guys obviously didn’t live luxuriously or anything.

“me sayin’ monsters get treated just fine up here... was irresponsible and ignorant of me. you’re... you’re right. not all monsters get the privilege of respect up ‘ere... as much as everyone should get the same level of respect. i just thought you should kn- mmph—!”

Sharply, his stout figure is jerked forward, coincidentally where Lune stands. His hands flail out in a poor attempt at catching himself, but he is caught by the feline herself... with his lips interlocking with... Lune’s? His cerulean eyes gape up at Lune, heart pounding when overwhelmed with a burst of adrenaline, but soon his eyelids weaken themselves and hang closed.

Warmth embraces Sans as he stands, leaning most of his weight into Lune, whose hands tightly cling onto the collar of his dress shirt and jacket to keep him from unexpectedly collapsing. His heart thumps excitedly within his chest, blood rushing throughout his pudgy form and releasing a wonderful sense of dopamine. He guides his shaky hands to carefully reach the hands fisting his collar, fingerprints brushing against Lune’s soft raven fur.

A gentle smack reverberates across the room as Lune and Sans eventually part, their breaths ghosting over each other’s lips. Lune slightly pulls away, her cheeks now littered in golden freckles that strive to shine through her fur, standing tall even with her hands wrinkling Sans’s shirt.

“...”

“...”

“...” Lune sheepishly looks down at Sans’s enamored face, her SOUL wriggling uncomfortably inside her chest. “That-... that was-... erm-... that was... the only thing... I could think of... to... shut you up...”

The stout human says nothing in return, frozen in his spot with awe painted over every distinct feature on his face. If one looked close enough, they would catch scintillating sparkles and hearts dancing inside his eyes as he gawks up at Lune.

“...c-... can you do it again?” Sans asks, his voice heavy with infatuation.

Her initial reaction is an abrupt wince of her head, unable to mask her shaky gasp. The feline’s cheeks burn with specks of gold, her tail swaying softly beneath her skirt.

What the-...

What... is this... feeling?

Lune’s SOUL shudders beneath the layers of her vessel, buzzing softly as if hoping to leash Sans’s attention and call out to his SOUL. She overlooks the fact her hands tremble while clinging onto his collar, boring her eyes into his, noticing the way his lids lovingly hang over his cerulean irises. Her whisker eyebrows congregate above the bridge of her nose, ears twisting away and pressing against her head.

“Tch-... ss-stupid... human...” she mumbles, refusing to acknowledge how eager her SOUL is as it thrums inside her chest.

With uncharacteristic mannerism, Lune follows Sans’s request and bends back down to press her lips against his, no longer compelling Sans’s body to lean against her in order to save himself an inevitable soreness on his face. Instead, they merely stand by the door, enveloped by each other’s familiar scents.

Sans’s nose catches whiffs of lemon and almond interlaced with traces of nutmeg, his cheeks burning beneath a sheet of pearly luster from the moon peeking in through the windows of their apartment. He plasters his palms onto Lune’s, curling his digits lightly to run his blunt fingernails beneath her first layer of fur to scratch at her hidden skin. His heart practically leaps in his throat when he hears a subtle purr reverberate within the boundaries of their home, lips striving to taste more of her.

this is the first time she hasn’t tried to bite me.

i have a feeling this is huge progress.

and holy shit i didn’t know i’d love kissing her like this.

i love kissing her.

i love having her here.

i love her.

“hha... hhf...” Sans quietly pants when she disrupts their kiss in order to give him air (which she nearly forgot he needed), his limbs possessing a subtle tremor. “hh... i love you so much, luney,” he admits, staring up at her with nothing but a dreamy look on his face.

! ! !

Unable to mask her surprise, Lune jerks in her spot, ears sticking straight up to the ceiling while her tail freezes in place. Her shimmering eyes widen, zeroing in on Sans’s enamored expression. Trembling in place, Lune maintains a half-hearted surrender pose, her lips unconsciously parted though not a sound leaves her.

“Er—” Lune stutters, blinking dumbly. “You-... you... what?”

Piercing the air, Sans’s hands rise to grasp Lune’s biceps, utilizing whatever strength he momentarily possesses in order to yank her upper body down to his level.

“WAH-!”

Lune doubles over to attain Sans’s height level, bewitching golden eyes staring back at Sans with miniature stars twinkling across her pupils, which—Sans quickly observes—gradually expand into even-sized circles.

“you heard me, luney,” he says, voice firm and confident in his words. “i. love you.”

“Wh-... whuh-...”

“i know you think you somehow don’t deserve it, but let me tell ya now–” Sans sternly folds his hairless brows–“that just isn’t true. you don’t even realize this self-hatred of yours was indoctrinated into you since you were a naive kid. ww-well... i’m here ta fix that. i love you just as much as i love june, and i wanna show ya... will-... will you... let me?”

...

Huh...?

Rendered speechless, Lune blankly gapes at Sans’s inquiring face, witnessing his smile slightly shake only for his eyes to bat away before returning to meet with hers. She observes the way multiple thoughts cross through his mind by watching his eyes and the miniscule changes in his facial features. As she studies him, Lune realizes...

She’s been looking for signs of reluctance or deceit. Anything that would tell her he’s lying about everything. There’s just no way he could love her.

“...”

Gradually, she drops her gaze. His words sober her quickly, bringing her to a vital debate.

“...you...” Her eyes lift back up, meeting with Sans’s expectant cerulean ones. “You know... I hate humans... right?”

Instead of responding with exasperation (as Lune expects him to), Sans merely reacts with a giddy smile, mirth dancing along his eyes.

“would you let me try to change your mind?” He asks her, gliding his hands down her arms until he grazes up her wrists and clasps both of her hands in his.

Fluster erupts across Lune’s SOUL, rolling over her furry form like an invigorating wave, her tail whipping out behind her once before it hangs limp, tempting itself to brush the floor. She glances down at Sans, spotting the numerous dots of gold sparkling across her cheeks as she stares into his eyes. This observation only worsens the state of her fur, each strand extending out and giving her a puffy appearance.

“Y-... and... hh-... how are you... g-gonna do that?” Grumbles the feline, her slender hands quaking within the embrace Sans’s hands give her.

Mischief develops across Sans’s face in the form of a devilish grin, faint crinkles manifesting at the corners of his eyes and at the creases of his lips. With meticulous mobility, Sans directs a foot back, gliding his socks across the coarse yet smooth surface of their vinyl floor. Clasping Lune’s hands, he guides her further into the apartment, eagerly grinning up at her upon scrutinizing her distorted features.

As much as she wants to say something in retaliation, Lune aimlessly follows Sans, understanding he wants her to come closer. Her attention briefly darts to the pristine island in their open-floor plan, running her gaze over its smooth, snow-white surface along with the rustic wooden stools neatly planted beneath the counter for future use. She is bemused when glancing back at the short human, though she suppresses any sound—ironically too curious to figure out what his intentions are.

Each golden bean on the bottoms of her toes and the balls of her feet press into the cool vinyl beneath her, applying her weight evenly until she lifts her foot to take another small step. Soon, she’s slowed down by the counter furnished in the middle of the kitchen. If she happens to look further to her right, she’d catch sight of their oven, sink, and fridge situated neatly between slabs of granite counters and drawers. Her wide-eyed attention, however, falls down to Sans, who gives her a strangely sultry look (she hates how hot her face suddenly feels).

“i could think of... a few ways ta motivate you...” Sans murmurs, “depends on if yer gonna give me a hard time, though...”

“I—”

Lune’s ears fold back, ignorant of the way her cheeks immediately puff up and sparkle like the wishing well cluster. The end of her tail twitches and writhes for a moment before hanging limp once again, brushing against the back of her calves and stirring her ticklish fur.

Swallowing any hints of reluctance he may have, Sans takes another step closer, simultaneously gliding a hand from the back of her hand to her wrist. He grazes his fingerprints against the fur of her wrist before trailing it across her forearm, unaware of what convulsions he compels in Lune’s SOUL as he leads his touch to her side.

“juney helped me do a little research on monsters, y’know... specifically on her species and yours...” he admits, briefly squinting up at her, his grin stretching at her bewildered look. “when ya get excited,” Sans says, twisting his wrist nimbly only to inch his sprawled palm down her soft side until he reaches the hem of her skirt. 

His hand stills upon meeting the fabric, pressing small circles inches above her hip into her ruffled fur. Although he isn’t one for hubris, feeling Lune faintly shake and jolt under his touch certainly provides a boost of confidence.

“you start smelling really good... then it’s over for you, huh?” He hums, ruffling her fur alongside the fabric of her skirt.

“I-... hha-... I don’t-...” Lune instinctively slips her hands from Sans’s and palms her face, desperately trying to keep her crumbling self together. “Yy-You... don’t... know what... you’re t-talking about... ss-stop... trying... t-to sound... hh-... so ssmart,” she quietly huffs, dragging her finger pads down her freckled face to keep her hands hovering above Sans, who seems eager to roam his hands over her.

While his left busies itself with crinkling Lune’s skirt, Sans leads his other hand back to her side, sliding diagonally to reach the back of her shirt. He continually teases the fabric by brushing his fingertips beneath the ruffles, synchronously scratching Lune’s upper back. For a split second, he catches a jolt from her tail, darting his fixated eyes down to the swirling appendage.

Another knowing grin stretches across his lips, cerulean eyes following every curve and shape on Lune.

“i just think yer a little embarrassed of how hot ‘n bothered yer feelin’...” he teases, lowering his hand entirely to reach her thigh. “honestly... i think it’s pretty funny watchin’ you try to sell that catty attitude to everyone around ya... but as soon as i put my hands on ya ‘n find those sweet spots...” Sans mumbles, tracing his fingerprints up as he presses into Lune’s fur, stirring each individual strand he glides over. “you’re just a docile little furball, huh?”

Lune winces, her digits instantly curling into her palms to keep her claws from sprouting. Despite lacking a proper set of lungs, the feline releases laborious breaths, her ears weak and compliant to the weight of gravity. She gazes down, staring through a field of shaky vision to see Sans merely inches away from her chest.

“Nn-... I-... hhf-...”

Tingles capture Lune’s body with each meticulous touch Sans draws against her fluffy exterior, each fiber on her body rising on their ends. Lune’s breath shakes as she exhales, trembling under the hands that scratch oh-so well at her upper back or slither up the side of her thigh. She continues quivering within Sans’s embrace, unable to suppress her flustered gasps when he steadily and deliberately traces his hand beneath her skirt and further up to her hip.

Her SOUL quakes vigorously inside of her chest, listening to the muted rustles of her skirt as Sans’s digits ghost over the curve of her ass. Lune’s breath catches in her throat the moment his hand stills on her hip, tension retaining every inch of her chest when her gaze finally drops itself. She finds herself entirely stunned by Sans’s hooded lids and wry smile.

“Ah—”

“no undies? gee, didn’t think you were a fan of goin’ commando,” Sans chuckles, grazing his thumb up and down against her hip.

“Tch-! I-... I don’t-... I just-... I don’t see... the point... it’s nn-not like I have ss-somethin’ to hide!” She grumbles, squeezing her eyes shut and turning her head away with a huff expelling from her nostrils.

“i mean... i ain’t complainin’.”

Sans grins, his hand slithering further up her skirt, eventually reaching the base of Lune’s tail. Noticing how quickly her tail jolts out upon grazing her erogenous spot, Sans’s lids hang almost sinfully, his heart pounding and twisting beneath his ribcage. He hears her breathing increase, breaking every once in a while by an unexpected gasp or a quiet whine. Inhaling her scent, Sans is overwhelmed by notes of lemon, almond, and nutmeg, sending a satisfying shiver down his spine.

Unlike June, whose smell is sweet and delightful enough to lure him in at any given moment, Lune’s smell feels raw and incredibly tempting. Something about how organic and rich in flavor her scent is makes him want to bury his entire face into her and inhale for the rest of time.

“Hhf-... hh...” Lune gulps for air, jumping with a stifled whine rumbling against her vocal cords when a warmth blankets the base of her spine.

“does this spot get you purring?” Sans beams, slowly pressing up and down against a ghostly line making up her spine, occasionally bumping into her tail.

“Mh-... hhf... haa...”

Unable to maintain control over her movements, Lune writhes slowly beneath Sans’s hands, her ears fluttering above her head—their golden tips illuminating in the dimness of their apartment. She gasps, a pressure circling over—what possibly could be—the most tender spot on her body, igniting arousal throughout her quaking form. Failing to keep her composure for even a second longer, the feline pants, relieving whatever muscular fortitude she holds.

Whining breathlessly, Lune tilts back to lean into the counter, her tightly curled fists pinned against its cool surface. She shakes in front of the clean-shaven human, staring with an almost uneasy look before it is swallowed by bliss. Ironically enough, a conspicuous droning itches at the back of Lune’s throat, promptly igniting her freckles across her cheeks.

What...

What the...

What’s this... feeling?

It’s...

It’s...

D e l i c i o u s.

“mkay,” Sans states frankly, both hands now glued to both of her hips, fingers delved between her thickness and raven fur.

“Mmh—” Lune blinks out of her stupor, luminous eyes cutting through the murkiness of their apartment to look down at the human (is it strange she can spot his cerulean eyes from the obscurity surrounding them?). She almost winces when she spots an intense focus swirling in his stare. “Hh... huh?”

His hands squeeze at Lune’s hips, wrinkling her damp skirt and provoking an unexpected excitement from her SOUL, boring his cerulean eyes up into Lune’s face, written with awe.

“i want you on the counter,” he instructs her, baritone voice hardly leaving room for implication.

E-... ehhh?

Stunned in her spot, Lune zones out for a moment, particularly stuck on the fact she’s even in this situation. She trembles on her feet, tail swaying with anticipation guiding it.

“You—”

“i wouldn’t recommend you try ‘n act all fussy,” he cuts her off. “those pheromones you’re pumpin’ out are telling me something way different.”

Eh...

EHHHH?

Promptly, the female monster jumps and recoils her arms to her chest, ears uncontrollably flattening or standing up. She keeps her arms pressed against her chest, horror over her lack of utter control in this moment wringing her dry. Lune frantically tears her eyes away to gaze side to side, at the ceiling, at the door, any other place where she won’t be forced to make eye contact with him.

He-...

I’m-...

H-... huh?

“c’mon, sweetheart... there’s no need to be shy now. what happened to that fiery attitude ya had? or was that also for show?”

Lune parts her lips, though she is incapable of speaking. Instead of attempting to talk back... she simply uses the strength in her arms to pull herself up slowly, lifting her weight until she can sit on the frigid surface. Her tail curls and sways over the countertop, glissading against the cool and smooth granite like a giddy worm on a rainy day.

“there we go,” Sans hums, using his pudgy body to part Lune’s legs. He glimpses her folded skirt, then raises his brow and lifts his chin. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

A faint growl tickles the back of Lune’s throat, her vibrissae that act as eyebrow furrow atop her nose.

“Tch... what-... what are you doing?” She asks him, thighs flexing beneath his relaxed arms, her SOUL thrumming at his comforting massages.

Sans shrugs gently, his digits slowing their circular motions against the outsides of her thighs, no longer savoring the feeling of her legs. He does enjoy how they press against his squishy sides, however...

“y’know... now that i think about it...”

“Eep-!”

Without warning, Sans slips his hands further down to hook her knees and pull them up and over his shoulders, where he lets their weight dangle over his back. His lips stretch into a thin smirk, observing the way Lune’s face completely drops and her eyes bulge, her face littered in bright golden spots.

“i never got to eat dinner at the restaurant... ‘nd i’m still hungry...”

“Bold of you to bring me to a restaurant with a bunch of fish tanks surrounding us,” grumbles a black cat, whose voice is tight and churlish.

Sitting across a plump man—whose clean-shaven head proves well to blind passing monsters and humans alike—is a feminine black cat, her radiant golden eyes squinting sharply at his dorky grin. She sits with her slender and furry arms crossed over her chest, rustling her creamy halter strap crop top.

He chuckles, “didn’t want us ta get stuck de-bait-ing where we should eat, so i thought this would be a fin place.”

“...” The black cat monster says nothing, but her acidic squinting quickly evolves into an unimpressed grimace. “...die.”

“pff- don’t be koi now—”

“Quit it.”

“you finally let me reel you out for once—”

“I said stop.”

“and you’re wearin’ a pretty dress for the occasion...”

“...”

“...” The man grins, his flabby chin resting on the flats of his palms. “it really made my jaws drop when i first craw you.”

Lune’s gold-tipped ears immediately fold back, her nose twitching. Her features instantly scrunch up, regret over saying “yes” to going out boiling deep within. The cat’s pupils shrink into slender threads as she bores her unimpressed stare on Sans’s smug face, her sleek tail swirling beside the curve of her thigh.

“...” Her expression remains sour.

Hehe...

Isn’t he just adorable?

The tightness on Lune’s face loosens on the spot, her lips almost parting to curl back in disapproval, but she stops herself. Instead of staring at the clean-shaven human with affliction written all over her face, the black-furred cat merely gawks back at him in awe, though something tells Sans it isn’t out of fondness.

...hah?

“Adorable”? Him?

Mm-hmm! He was oh-so sweet for asking you to come out for the night!

...he wouldn’t stop saying “please”.

He’s very persistent!

Agitating.

Don’t be mean! He’s trying his best!

Lune’s face becomes pointed, her point of focus veering off to the side absentmindedly. Her golden gaze narrows as she gazes at one of the luxurious fish tanks.

He should stop.

I’m sick of bein’ duped.

Hh-He isn’t duping you! He’s genuine!

With shrewd precision, Lune peers at the human sitting across from the corner of her eye, her lids squinting acutely. She watches the naturally weary human trail his cerulean eyes up to the ceiling embellished with intricate carvings—they remind him of the crashing waves on a seashore—before they fly to another group of humans wrapped in laughter and merriment. The vibrissae stretched above Lune’s squinted eyes furrow.

I don’t see what makes this human any different than the others.

She inhales slowly, the glow of her golden gaze dimming as she squeezes her lids shut. In a habitual temperament, Lune’s tail curls in on itself only to unfold before it curls again. The cat monster slightly digs her yellow-ish claws into the wood of the table, tendons threatening to bulge out from beneath her furry exterior until she releases her grip.

Lune always took June for a fool. A tall, wide-eyed fool. A voluptuous fool. Why did she have to be the one in control of their SOUL? June is as helpless as a toddler stuck in the middle of a mall—which, ironically, occurred once.

June found Sans in the middle of a road, where a car was destined to crash right into his pudgy and stunted body—perhaps it would have killed him; Lune likes to think it would have. After many laborious months of running into each other and pursuing “dates”, Sans unwittingly professed his affections for the bunny monster on a night of celebration. Supposedly, the drinks had a death grip on him, and unfortunately loosened his tongue.

Ever since then, the three two of them lived together with nothing but tranquility and love between them. At any given chance, Lune insulted the human from within the recesses of June’s mind. Never were they addressed by the bunny herself, but Lune was always there. Always nagging about the evident flaws the human possessed. Always pointing out his insecurities as attempts to change June’s mind and get rid of him.

Of course... none of it ever worked. June always looked at the bright side. June always chose to usher Lune’s words away and embrace the human. She always chose to press her amative kisses on his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his lips, and his body whenever it offered itself. To say Lune abhorred their boundless affections would be an understatement.

She hated seeing both of them joyous. Didn’t she deserve it, too?

No, she hated seeing June joyous around a human.

What good have humans brought us?

All they do is cheat, lie, and hurt everyone.

Th-That’s just not true!

Lune gradually pivots her ears, flashing their soft pink skin. She glares at Sans.

“Why did you ask for me to go out with you? Got tired of June suckin’ up to ya?” Lune questions him, settling the lengths of her furry arms on the ragged wood of their table.

Sans blinks out of his listless stupor, cerulean eyes quick to latch onto Lune’s pointed expression. He spies the skepticism swirling in her narrowed eyes, but he refuses to draw any offense from her cynical query. Instead, the bald man—who actually decided to wear decent clothing for the night—merely cracks a grin.

“why not? you usually come out at night when e’ryone’s asleep... but you just run around the apartment for... whatever reason...” Sans’s grin slightly stretches, almost appearing thinner to the cat lady across from him. His shoulders rise and fall, lids slowly shutting themselves. “ey, i don’t judge. you do whatever makes ya happy i guess.”

Lune gives him another pointed look before turning her head, mildly irritated at his lack of a straight answer. She hates when he gets all elusive with his responses.

A small grumble reverberates within her vocal cords, “And I’m just supposed to believe you’re genuinely interested in a monster like me and June.”

Lune watches him raise a hairless brow, his hands interlacing each other as they sit on the edge of the table.

“...uh... yeah?” He plainly states.

“...”

It appears the bitter monster remains unconvinced. Slowly, her arms slide off the table and return to the height of her chest in order to weave them together. Her tail swishes at her side, brushing off meager speckles of leftover food from—assumably—the previous customers.

“You know I hate humans, right?” Lune bluntly tells him, hardly bothering with maintaining a sugar-coated disposition.

“yup.”

“...and that doesn’t concern you?”

“...should it?”

Lune’s ears veer away from each other before gradually reclining against the top of her head.

“For a long time I wondered why June would pick someone like you,” she grumbles. “You’re not extraordinary. Not conventionally attractive—”

“water y’talkin’ about? i think you should be a little more s-pacific...”

“Kck—” Lune grits her jagged teeth, whiskered brows furrowing as deep as the Mariana trench. “You’re just proving my point-! You got those annoying jokes, and you never take things seriously! How the hell does June put up with you?”

Sans chuckles, utilizing his hands to shrug.

“maybe she’s just not as crabby as you can be,” he answers, his features consumed by another wave of smugness.

“...”

A prolonged groan mixed with fatigue rolls over the cat’s golden tongue, her pupils rising to the ceiling, teasing the likelihood of rolling her eyes. She denies herself the satisfaction and merely returns her impassive gaze back to Sans.

“...tch- whatever. Just keep me out of it,” mutters the monster, who reclines into her seat.

“...”

Aimlessly kicking his feet under the table, Sans stares back at Lune—who remains persistent in not glancing his way—before he pivots his head entirely to half-heartedly admire the atmosphere. A variety of voices fill the restaurant: loud and indistinct, honeyed and brusque, high-pitched and dull. Most struggle with interlacing each other, fighting in a war of sonority within the building.

The stout human and feline monster entered the scene roughly an hour ago, one bitter and irritated while the other was indifferent to the atmosphere before them. Regardless, Sans thought it would be a great idea if he received his brother’s advice and took Lune out on an o-fish-al date, considering she rarely wanted to pop out when he and June started dating. When she first emerged from June’s subconscious, it... didn’t exactly go the way Sans expected it to.

Immediately, Lune sprung at him and pinned him on the floor, her fangs dripping with an abundance of glossy, sinewy drool. Her unrelenting stare held a malice that practically haunted him for the following nights. He didn’t know he would genuinely fear for his life when facing a monster—he hardly ever had trouble with them before—so he thought Lune wouldn’t be so different.

He regretted his words within a second.

June supposedly fought Lune for the control of the SOUL in that moment, overwhelming her with piercing headaches and numbing every imperceptible nerve in her body. Lune fought desperately to maintain her control. Clawed at her own face and wrestled with herself for the authority of her SOUL, but she inevitably lost to June’s strength and retreated to her subconscious.

“Hhaa-... hhf... hmph...”

June slowly turned to Sans. When he really thought about it... that was the first time he saw her drop her smile out of fear... she dreaded what would happen if she ever let Lune out again.

“...maybe-... maybe we should–” June worriedly lowered her eyes–“postpone... an official meeting... with Lune...” she mumbled, anxiously dropping her head between her shoulders.

Now, after enduring a year and six months of facing Lune on several occasions, the two remain seated across from each other. Lune sits with her arms crossed at her chest, wearing a cream-colored crop top with straps running up her chest, over her collarbones, and behind her neck. Situated around her waist is a dark brown flowy skirt with sunflowers sutured around the edge of the fabric. In Lune’s defense, this was the outfit June begged her to go out in...

Sans, however, unwinds in his seat whilst wearing a simple white button up—multitudes of folds practically carved in the material considering it’s been sitting at the base of his closet for an unspecified amount of time—and a plain gray jacket. His legs are dressed in black slacks that easily pass for a pair of dress pants, not that anyone called him out on them yet.

“...”

“...”

Lune’s posture slightly caves in, her glowing eyes flitting back to Sans’s ordinary expression. When the man catches her curious gaze, he allows his grin to widen. She grimaces and tears her gaze away.

...you’re not going to... say anything?

Tch- why should I? He’s just being weird and...

Again, the female monster guides her skeptical eyes to the human across from her. As she suspects, his cerulean eyes remain locked on her facial features, a look of amusement and mirth twinkling across his face.

Staring.

Blankness quickly takes over Lune’s features, her eyes boring into the fish tank just behind the counter of Sans’s head.

He’s trying to be sweet! He likes you!

Ew... I’d rather... not deal with that.

You used to be super mean when it came to humans, but you’ve gotten better at it!

It’s obvious he’s changed your mind!

Tch-

Did you forget that kids used to throw sticks and rocks at us for being us?

...

Did you forget that Caleb can’t see out of his left eye now because of humans?

I-...

Humans killed cats and rabbits for generations. Who’s to say we’re not next?

Hh-He’s different, Lune! He wouldn’t hurt a-a fly!

You’re a fool. He could become a threat just like—

scchhhhhhhhhhhhh-

Mm—

scchhhhhhhhh-

Wh-

schhhhhh-

Lune blinks out of her acrimonious trance when a distinct shuffling takes place before her, her eyes frantically searching around her as if the culprit is a neighboring table. Soon, however, Lune directs her bemused gaze to the only possible suspect. She stares him down momentarily before batting her eyes down to witness his arm gradually stretching across the table.

The space between her whisker brows decreases, her ears slouching reluctantly, a distinct look of perplexity written all over her furry features. She notices his hand remains plastered atop a square-shaped napkin, further inciting her bemusement.

“...?” Lune stays silent, but her lips momentarily part, as if she means to drop a puzzled comment, though nothing ever leaves her.

Sans’s lids squint with childish glee, eyes locked in on Lune’s twisted features, finding her bewilderment utmost amusing. Quickly, he peels his hand off of the plain white napkin only to recoil his entire posture back to his side of the table.

“...hah?” Is all that Lune manages to utter out.

Opting to ignore the evident glee written on Sans’s face, Lune hesitantly lowers her hand and clasps the napkin. Her yellow finger beans run over the floppy material of the napkin, noticing certain characters are etched into the flatness, a faint note of ink drifting across the pad of her sensitive nose. Upon observing the scent of pen ink, Lune sets her attention onto the napkin itself, creasing the fur between her vibrissae as she concentrates on the written message.

“i’d fuck you silly over this table if nobody else was here.”

“...”

Lune reads it again. Then again. Hoping she misread; skipped a few letters, perhaps.

No...

It definitely says “i’d fuck you silly over this table if nobody else was here”.

My... how bold...

Ew.

Reluctance consumes Lune’s movement as she slowly looks back at the ostensibly grinning man before her, his lids barely hanging. Lune is entirely silent, too starstruck and disturbed to come up with a snarky reply. The napkin remains flopped over the back of her twitching digits, the scribbled words gawking back at Sans although upside down—it almost makes his grin widen.

“...you don’t even have a pen on you,” Lune bluntly states. “...so how the hell did you write this?”

“guess you could say i’d be an ink-credible magician, huh?” Sans snorts, his tubby body gradually leaning forward until he can easily set his elbows on top of the table. “i thought it’d be a pretty fine point gag, y’know.”

“...” She parts her lips before sealing them shut. Seconds later, she peels them open again to speak, “You’re fuckin’ annoying, y’know that?”

“yep. my number one hobby,” he remarks, snapping his fingers before finger gunning the aggravated cat. “eyyyy... when’s our food comin’? i’m kinda hungry. you’d expect them ta bring out some bread, huh? that’s the yeast they could do.”

“Kckk—”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

“didn’t you order the egg soup?”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

“i’m eggs-pectin’ it’ll be out here soon,” Sans chuckles. “if they don’t bring us some food, i’ll just keep makin’ these stupid jokes ‘til you crack up.”

“...”

Stiffness takes over Lune’s facial features, her eyes boring themselves into space while her lips are drawn thin. Her right ear flicks at the air repeatedly, as if fencing off a pesky insect attempting to land on her fur. Soon, the cat’s tail curls repeatedly, swishing and twisting at her side like a snake held in a chokehold.

He’s not a threat...

Her eyes slightly widen, wrinkles itching the subtle bridge of her nose and revealing bits of her fangs as she grimaces at the clean-shaven human.

He’s just.

Really.

A n n o y i n g.

“i’m actually enjoying myself,” he remarks, kicking his legs with a look of satisfaction across his face. “y’know... yer really not that bad to be around. sure, it’s also pretty fun makin’ you mad and watching you huff and puff like a big bad wolf. but honestly... you’re a nice change of pace. yer honest... yer pretty resolute. ‘n... y’know. yer...” Sans smiles sheepishly, finally averting his gaze for once before reeling his eyes back to Lune’s puzzled expression.

“you’re... also pretty... pretty. you and juney are pretty,” he admits, raising his shoulders. “even when you’re pipin’ mad, i think you’re pretty to look at.”

“Wh—” Lune winces, her raven-black fur tingling at the base of each follicle she possesses until suddenly... she appears poofy to the human.

Sans flits his attention to her current state, glancing up and down at her fluffiness, unable to resist the knowing grin from spreading across his lips. He rests his fleshy cheeks into the comfort of his palms, practically getting comfortable in his seat while witnessing the feline monster toil with herself after receiving his words of adoration.

“O-Oi-! I’m not... gonna fall for that. You could trick June with that kind of talk, but yy-you won’t get me,” Lune grumbles, firmly crossing her arms over her chest in the manner of a fussy toddler.

“what kinda talk?” Sans hums, gradually letting the weight of his left cheek take over his palm, leading him into cocking his head to the side. “y’mean like... if i told you i love it when your eyes sparkle like the wishing well star cluster... lookin’ at your eyes feels way better than star gazing, too.”

Lune’s SOUL twists, settling deep within the pits of her stomach (if she technically owned one), where it continues to squirm uncomfortably. She shakes slightly, grumbling curses to herself while squeezing her eyes shut and turning her head away.

“Tch-... you just... sound stupid... a-and corny...”

Sans chuckles, “and you sound a little starstruck.”

What the hell is goin’ on? Did he just turn this all on me?

“Y—”

“You-!”

Lune winces when a voice cuts through the atmosphere, her ears instinctively twisting and folding back to protect her sensitive hearing. Her posture adjusts itself while she remains seated, luminous golden eyes quickly searching the room for the source of the voice.

Pivoting her head the instant she catches movement in the corner of her eyes, Lune faces her left, where she witnesses a short-haired human woman with smooth olive skin march up to their table, her steps clearly indicating she means to address Sans. Lune sees the woman is wearing a juniper dress, the fabric hugging the woman’s body and outlining her alluring curves whilst the puffy material sewn across the bosom of her dress allows enough room for the imagination.

The woman has dark brown hair and keeps her hair styled in a soft pixie cut; a means of displaying her innate confidence and authoritative personality. Her dark eyes fall to Sans’s face, recognizing a momentary look of disbelief mixed with a hint of bewilderment.

Much like Lune, Sans flinches upon meeting eyes with the person he did not think he would ever encounter again... his ex-boss. His hairless brows briefly meet at the bridge of his nose before they part once more, discomfort flaring within the confinement of his SOUL. He was looking forward to this date night, too...

“oh...” mumbles the bald man, his lids hanging lethargically.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face to me after what you DID-!” The woman shouts, finally stepping up to Sans’s side and slamming her palm onto the surface of their table. “Do you have ANY idea what you did to me?! You and all those other brainless fucking pigeons!”

Lune blinks before she hardens her gaze, eyeing this human with restricted cynicism as she barks at her date of the night. The feline monster’s tail stills its winding movement, lying lax at her side and dangling off the edge of her chair. Now, a persistent agitation scratches at the back of Lune’s mind... likely originating from the white bunny monster grumbling defensively in her subconscious.

What is this human saying? Those aren’t very nice words!

The human woman firmly stabs the table with her finger, glaring down at Sans, whose expression remains rather composed as he gawks back up at his once-supervisor. Her bulged eyes stare at Sans, miniscule crimson filaments snaking into the whites of her eyes, nostrils flared as she angrily huffs.

“You all think you were some righteous gang of heroic icons for getting me kicked off the executive board? It’s not like that company would’ve hurt without those dollars! Ohh, but you ass-kissing saps couldn’t handle getting your feelings hurt every once in a fucking while. Knowing you, you’d have probably needed those bills just as badly as I did!”

“...i was banking on them to fire you sooner cos of that nasty “charisma” you got there. finding out you were involved in some good ol’ embezzlement, though, was actually a bonus,” Sans responds, his smile stagnant, though a devilish color flashes in his eyes.

As much as she refuses to flatter Sans for his dry yet witty remarks, Lune finds herself blinking dumbly—ears unconsciously flattening against her head—a brief urge to snicker at his words rushes through her. Her tail curls with a lively energy, stirring her raven fur on the side of her thigh.

...that was a little funny.

See!

Doesn’t-... it doesn’t mean anything!

Your SOUL did a little flutterrr...

Sh-Shut up!

“You think this is a fucking joke?! I lost everything because of you and your convoluted friends!” The woman hisses, batting her hands through the air. A disgruntled huff flies past her ear, drawing her venomous gaze to the feline monster, whose radiant golden eyes glare back with the same level of venom. “And, of course, you brought your freak of a girlfriend here. I knew only a fucking monster would wanna date an obese smart-ass like you.”

Sans spies a distinct jerk from the corner of his eye, watching Lune defensively twist her head and upper body to face the bigoted woman. Out of concern over how Lune chooses to retaliate, Sans merely lets out a dry chuckle and rests his cheek on his flattened knuckles, peeking up at his ex-boss with one eye open.

“i’m sure you get lotsa dates with that heavyset attitude of yours,” he remarks, cerulean eye twinkling with an underlying mischief.

The woman’s fair toned face evolves into a deep shade of red, streaks of her dark hair fall out from her once tidied hairstyle, framing her face. Intricate wrinkles are etched above the bridge of her nose, nostrils flaring uncontrollably, and her eyes now stretched as wide as they can be—blood vessels visibly peeping out within the whites of her eyes.

“WHY YOU PIECE OF—!”

Sans’s smug smile drops, his fist falling down onto the surface of their table. For a moment, he panics, witnessing the woman promptly turn. He expected a punch or a slap at first... having winced the second she moved. Instead, Sans’s panic magnifies when his attention is caught by the sight of her digits curling around a cool glass of water—beads of liquid garnishing the circumference of the cup. With a wall sitting directly beside Sans, the human male realizes his fate is doomed by a frigid glass of clear water mixed with hints of lemon, raising a hand to his face to brace for the shock.

Creeak—

! SPLASH !

“...”

“...”

“...?”

Keeping his eyes squeezed shut, Sans holds his breath in suspense, knowing he is bound for an impromptu shower... though not a drop of water hits him. Astounded gasps and murmurs crash over the atmosphere like a wave, further perplexing the clean-shaven human, who reluctantly guides his hand away from his face.

“hh-... huh?”

Plip...

Plop...

Plip...

Standing in front of Sans, and effectively taking the cold splash of the water, is Lune. Water seeps into the fabric of her top and skirt, gradually clinging onto her fur, which is now just as soaked. Her fur—saturated with ice-cold water—shines beneath the azure brilliancy of the restaurant, unable to cling onto the descending drops of fluid. Lune’s furry cheeks now sag with an abundance of water adhering to each strand of hair on her face.

Lune’s ears slowly unfold, turning in order to reveal their soft pink skin to the red-faced woman, the golden hue garnishing the tips dramatically dimmed along with her eyes.

Sans’s eyes widen, shock flowing through him and sending him into a state of pure silence. His lips remain parted, but no sound ever escapes him. He cannot summon a single thought. Seeing Lune standing before him, drenched in the water that was intended to hit him, stupefies Sans. He was so convinced she loathed everything about him. Loathed him.

Why take this onslaught for him?

“...” Lune blankly stares at the enraged woman, confining any signs of discomfort within her SOUL. She feels water trickle down every thread of fur on her face until every drop congregates at the apex of her chin, plummeting down to soak into her cream-colored shirt.

“Wh—” The woman stands tall, lowering the glass she tightly clasps in her hand.

Sans shimmies himself closer to the outer edge of his seat, hoping to reach his hand out to Lune. He worriedly lifts his gaze, aiming his focus onto the back of her head.

“lu... -ne...?” He tests his voice.

She slightly turns her head, glancing down at Sans from the corner of her eye.

“...still wondering why I hate humans?” Lune utters, paws now dangling at her sides.

Parting his lips, Sans promptly attempts to give Lune a response, though he quickly finds nothing comes to him at the moment. He merely gawks up at her with wide cerulean eyes, awe written all over his face and deeming him silent. His hand hovers in the air. A pitiful attempt to help Lune despite the fact he wields nothing appropriate to help dry her off.

“...i-...”

With disappointment flashing across her eyes, Lune turns away and starts treading on a path to the exit, abandoning Sans and an eerily silent crowd. Her tail dangles behind her, brushing against the rough texture of the black and blue carpet settled beneath her. Nothing the stout human male at the table says behind her breaks her pace out of the restaurant. Every desperate yell of her name or stuttered “waits” goes unheard by the time she pulls the door open and strolls out into the dark streets.

“oof-!” Sans exclaims as he stumbles out of his seat, practically shoving the culprit of this entire fiasco out of his way only to tread the same path Lune took to leave the building. “ll-lune! w-wait!”

“Wh-?! I wasn’t done-!” The woman yells, stomping her foot as she pivots her entire body on one heel. She curls her digits tightly around the glass, its contents now emptied out.

“O-Oi...”

“That was a disaster...”

“Yeah... and that woman was being totally disrespectful...”

“Hmph... honestly, I would’ve been embarrassed if I were her.”

“Ruining an innocent couple’s dinner.”

“What...” The woman hesitantly turns her head, eyeing the numerous tables of monsters and humans alike. She spies several distasteful looks from neighboring tables, unable to understand why her hands now shake at her sides. “What are you—”

“Not only did you harass them, but you practically assaulted that poor woman!”

“Sh-She’s not a woman! She’s- she’s just a-... a stupid mm-monster! Are you people serious?”

“You should be ashamed of yourself...”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave the premises. You’ve been causing a disturbance and compelled our customers to leave our restaurant. Please, come with me.”

“WH-?! I didn’t do anything wrong! I was entitled to finishing my personal business! Wh-?! Hh-Hey-! Don’t fucking touch me! Wh-?!” The woman shrieks as two waiters extend their arms behind her and gently guide her to the exit of the restaurant, where she happens to match eyes with Sans, who has a gentle smile spread across his face whilst he gives the restaurant one last glance.

“YOU-! You’ll fucking pay for this! YOU’LL FUCKING PAY, I SWEAR TO YOU-!” The short-haired woman promptly shouts, hysterically thrashing between the waiters meticulously restraining her.

Sans lingers in silence for a moment, observing how furiously his ex-boss flails about between the crowd of people attempting to calm her down. He stares before allowing a smile to stretch across his lips.

“guess you got served anyway, huh?” The short man remarks, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket. With a suave mannerism he rarely ever possesses, Sans turns away and approaches the exit.

Oh, the things she’d do for this comical human who’s stolen her SOUL…

“i-!” Sans flushes immediately, his heart racing inside his chest as he jumps to give her his consent. “i wan-… ww-wanna keep going!” He answers, fingers curling around the base of June’s palms.

Humming favorably, June finally bends close enough to lock lips with her obedient partner, who is quick to welcome her deep, passionate kiss by wrapping his arms around her shoulders and eagerly parting his lips. She is receptive to his needs and responds to his willingness by slithering her tongue—although not its entire length—into his slippery, hot mouth, leaving behind the faint notes of his cum inside.

Groaning and tearing up at her responsiveness, Sans squeezes his eyes shut and weakly swirls his tongue against June’s snakelike appendage, briefly tasting himself before her smell overpowers him. He can feel wet beads trickle down his cheeks alongside his perspiration, though he continues to please June by bending and pressing his tongue up against hers, feeling every ridge poke the inside of his mouth only for her tongue to playfully coil around his.

“mmgh…mmh…” moans the clean-shaven human, his chubby form quivering like a newborn, flooded with unbearable warmth he wishes June could whisk away with the snap of her fingers.

Speaking of whisking away, Sans momentarily stutters in his breathtaking kiss when he notices both a fluctuation of lighting from under his eyelids and a distinct shift of gravity. By the time he finally parts from June’s addicting lips, he pulls away with a heaving gasp escaping his mouth, drool and saliva pooling at the back of his mouth while simultaneously dribbling out from the corner of his mouth.

“ghngg- hhaaa-! hha… haaa…” Sans pants, his sweaty palms clinging onto June’s furry biceps, the remaining fat bulging from the undersides. “hh-… wh-…?”

Drowsily blinking his eyes open, Sans is quick to discover they are no longer within their modest living room, where their kitchen and dining room are virtually combined on one floor, but instead reclined back in their peaceful, familiar bedroom.

Their mattress bends under their added weight, sheets shuffling and decorative pillows flopping onto the ground, disregarded by both the human and monster. The layout of their bedroom is simple; two nightstands at their respective sides of the bed, a chestnut dresser, and flagrant windows the size of their entire wall—conveniently drawn semi-closed with matching gray curtains. Silvery illumination creeps inside the comfort of their room from between the curtains, permitting just the right amount of visibility both June and Sans need to admire each other.

Blushing furiously beneath June, Sans licks his lips and gawks up at her, gulping almost anxiously at the sight of her intense rubellite stare—swearing her eyes practically cut through the darkness just to keep her focus on him. He wonders how he did not notice her effortlessly lift him from the couch and carry him to their shared bedroom, perhaps too infatuated by her lustful kiss.

oh, man…

i love ‘er so much…

“er—”

Before Sans has any time to voice his thoughts, June sits up to her knees and crosses her arms downward to cling onto the hem of her tank top. He swears he forgets how to breathe in the moment because the instant June lifts her arms and tosses her shirt away, he whimpers under his breath and shakes at how real this moment is. Although he’s seen her without any article of clothing, he still can’t help but sheepishly avert his cerulean eyes before latching back onto her pliable form.

Now lacking a form-fitting tank top, June’s upper torso is revealed to be entirely covered in her naturally pristine white fur. Ordinarily, her face is the fluffiest part of her body, the rest of her body, however, has fluffy yet smooth fur. The refined glide of her fur perfectly accentuates the curves of her breasts and the pudge around her stomach, a noticeable chub sitting right at her hips. Although lacking the characteristic areolas that would normally sit on the front a human woman’s breast, June’s breasts mirror practically every other aspect to that of a human’s.

Sans’s face flourishes in a prominent shade of red, his wide cerulean eyes gawking up at his charming, curvaceous partner, who looks down at him and practically lights up the room with her smile alone. His breath hitches in his throat when the snowy rabbit stealthily looms over him once again, her hands slithering at the sides of his head on the mattress beneath him. He discovers a pair of luminous rubellite eyes boring at him, as if scrutinizing him for every little movement, every twitch he might accidentally succumb to.

He is perplexed when a tender tug disturbs his entire shirt from the hem, his body rigid when he finally interprets June’s underlying request. Squirming uncomfortably, Sans turns his head overall and palms the side of his face.

“i-… i dunno, june…” he murmurs, frowning softly. “i still… yy-… y’know…”

“Hmm?”

Sans’s body quivers, humiliation boiling in the pit of his chest.

“i don’t… look as-… as nice as you… a-and ‘m not… sure if you still want—…”

“…” June’s head cocks to the side at a short degree, her unmistakably lucid eyes coursing over Sans’s flustered face. She softly hums with a short giggle tickling her vocal cords. “Honey… the whole point of us doing this is for me to show you that I love every bit of you. And I wanna help you love yourself, too! I think you’re the cutest human ever, and I’d never settle for anyone else!”

June hovers closer, pecking his warm cheek, leaving behind traces of her lips on his skin.

“Mwah! I love you and only you! Ss-So! Lemme show you!”

Sans cannot ignore the throbbing pulsations of his SOUL in his chest as he listens to June settle his anxious thoughts with words of comfort and reassurance, his palm hesitantly sliding off of his face before he finally turns to gaze back up at his girlfriend, who easily looms over his entire form. His breath shakes in his exhale, cerulean eyes glossy under the moonlight, which glimpses into the privacy of their bedroom. Finally, he nods falteringly.

“mm-… m’kay…” he mumbles, jolting upon the sheets layering their bed when his shirt gradually peels off his warm skin.

His chest is tight, heart pounding against his ribcage. His blood swiftly rushes up to his head, inevitably muffling all noises except for the palpable thumping of his heart and SOUL. Sans’s throat stings as he nervously inhales and exhales, dryness overpowering his entire airway until he can do nothing but gulp repeatedly and hope he doesn’t lose his voice in the morning.

The shirt finally glides over the roundness of his face, trailing up and over his clean-shaven head before it is quickly tossed and neglected for the night. He curses under his breath, blood overwhelming his face, a distinct redness surfacing across his round cheeks and shoulders. Feeling utterly exposed beneath his evidently gluttonous partner, Sans squeezes his eyes shut and presses his lips into a thin line, ignorant to the way his entire being quakes.

June’s eyes are wide with keen interest once she’s removed the remaining layer of clothing that’s been bothering her, her fluffy white face dusted by a soft pink hue—nearly coordinating. She is greeted by the sight of her human partner entirely bare under her curvaceous figure, eyes sparkling down on his chubby body. June bends down to instantly show her amative infatuation with Sans’s body, her nose nuzzling into the crook of his neck, where she discovers his scent immediately swamps her receptors.

As if his smell alone triggers an impulse of greed within the bunny monster, June buries her face further into his neck, lips pursuing every inch of his hot skin by leaving behind countless kisses. She moans softly against his pliable flesh, lips smacking with each fervent kiss she stamps, roaming her hands over his pudgy torso. Her pink finger pads encounter numerous impressions around his lower stomach and around his hips, conquered with avid interest in these engravings. June lightly traces these marks affectionately, intrigued by their intricate paths—realizing now just how much she loves her stout human.

Sans’s heart flutters vigorously. Her earnest attention to his seemingly flawed flesh, repetitive kisses against his sensitive neck, and tender whispers of how fond she is of him all seem to overwhelm him. He gasps for breath when her lips latch onto his beating pulse, moaning under her as she lightly suckles on his supple skin.

“hha-! jj-… june… hmgn… fuck… mmhg…”

June responds to his quiet sounds with a satisfying hum, her hands traveling over every inch of his body; every bit of him that he has to offer never neglected or degraded.

“Love everything about you, baby,” June mutters against him, “Your smell… your nice warmth… your soft skin… your cute stretch marks… your chubby, little body… your cute, red face… just wanna kiss every inch of you…”

Sans swears he could probably cum all over again with how earnest and genuine June’s words are as she sweetly sighs them to him, his anxious gaze drowning in salty tears. His heart performs backflips in his chest, love rushing through him like never before. He suddenly finds himself regretting all those times he’s abstained himself from pleasure when June offered it in the past.

“snff-… i-… i love y’june…” Sans blubbers from underneath her, his hands reaching out desperately to embrace her shoulders.

June’s smile is soft as she looks down, laying her rubellite-pink eyes upon him and humming affectionately. She lowers herself using the strength in her arms and torso, locking lips with him once again and lifting a hand to cradle his teary face. Eagerly, she gulps down all the sweet sounds he has to offer her, smiling against his lips when the weight of his arms coils around her broad shoulders.

“Mmh…” she quietly moans against him, trailing her other hand down his body, eliciting shivers and goosebumps across his spongy flesh until she traces the semi-rigid shape of his leaking cock, curling her dexterous fingers around its flabby girth.

“mhgh-… ghmm…” Sans’s voice bobs in his throat, wavering into June’s welcoming mouth.

His body uncontrollably jerks, undeniably responsive to every attentive touch June gives him willingly—intentionally. He gasps for air as she drags her lips away, his tears now stained down his temples—miniscule droplets on his pillow the only evidence of his pleasure.

“Mmh, it’s okay, baby… I’ll take good care of you… let me make you feel good…” June’s voice swerves in the air like a sultry paintbrush against a blank canvas, painting unimaginable sceneries in the retreat of Sans’s mind.

She cannot restrain a subtle twitch of her smiling lips when she hears his breath hitch in his throat, her ears swivel at the disturbance in the air. Folding her sensitive ears forward, June smiles and lifts herself, withdrawing her furry hand from his now-erect cock. She catches his momentary look of bemusement and concern, but she quickly soothes his worries by pecking his palm and giggling.

“I’m not leaving, silly…” she assures him, “Just… getting out of these clothes…”

A wave of arousal rolls over Sans’s reclined body like a warm blanket, his cheeks somehow darkening. He gasps for breath when he feels his dick twitch unexpectedly, humiliated on his part for how eager he is. In another part of his mind, however, he is reminded that he should embrace his excitement and love for someone he’d give up his SOUL to, someone like June. He unconsciously chews on his lower lip as he watches June sit back on her knees, heart racing when her hands trek down her supple waist and reach the waistband of her shorts.

Her snowy-white hands hook their thumbs on the inside of her pajama shorts and panties (although she isn’t ordinarily required to wear them, she merely likes how they feel around her). As if meaning to tease Sans, June is slow with dragging her shorts off, the waistband practically clinging to her hips and thighs. Her fur is partially disturbed as the remaining article of clothing is tugged off, arousing tender shivers against her hidden layer of skin.

When her shorts are bunched up at the junction of her thighs and calves, she quickly maneuvers herself to a seated position, twisting her legs out from under her and lifting them in order to discard her clothes. As her long, elegant, and captivating legs hover to grant June’s shorts enough leeway, she also reveals a most fascinating discovery to her wide-eyed, flushed boyfriend.

Between the female monster’s legs is a slick, puffy, and titillating magenta-pink cunt, enveloped with glistening folds and clenching uncontrollably around nothing. Her thighs slowly part to grant Sans a better view of what he thought she didn’t—couldn’t—have. He curses repeatedly in his head for staring so long, but he can’t help it when his enthralling lover flaunts herself to him like this. He can’t stop the barrage of filthy thoughts that fill his head as he gawks at June’s dripping, pretty pink cunt, her clitoris a valuable pearl sitting right above her swollen vulva, between her labia.

Her arousal shines in the moonlight, practically gliding down her bare folds which sharply contrast the pure, innocent snowy-white fur of her body. Once again, the shaven human curses under his breath and gulps roughly.

June hardly pays any attention to where her clothes land, quickly fixated on her human lover, who seems utmost fascinated and aroused at the display she willingly offers him. She giggles softly, fingertips ghosting her lips.

“i-… i thought…” Sans chokes, “i thought you… didn’t-… i didn’t know… you… hha- had… one…”

June’s lips are stained with an amused smirk as she listens to Sans’s words shake with confusion, finding his bewilderment both adorable and entertaining. She giggles quietly, ears sagging forward and her hands trailing above her breasts, over her collarbone.

“Well, of course, sweetie…” she hums, “I do use magic… have you really never considered that? I can make my body look… however I want.”

er—

Sans blinks dumbly, his face quickly losing its color the longer he ruminates on the implications of her words. It is not long before the heat of his face returns tenfold, his palm slapping the side of his face in humiliation. For someone who works at a scientific research organization… he has an unfortunate number of imbecilic moments. He could only imagine what kind of insults Lune is grumbling inside June’s head as she sweetly smiles at him.

“…o-oh…” is all that Sans manages to muster out.

Another short stream of giggles dances in the bedroom, June’s hands trailing up his squishy body until her palms sit on either side of Sans’s head against the pillow. She is cautious with straddling his lap, seemingly mindful that she is evidently larger than the human pinned beneath her, fearing that her weight may be too much for him to handle.

June’s upper body bends above his torso, her puffy breasts sitting against his chest, swelling between their bodies and inevitably earning a stifled squeak from Sans. Her eyes are locked on to his face, studying every detail on him from the little, nearly indiscernible freckles around his cheekbones to his wide glassy eyes that gawk back at her in awe. She smiles tenderly at him, humming when his quivering hands finally cling to her waist, fingerprints grazing further beneath her layer of smooth fur.

Her arms slowly fold until she can finally rest the lengths of her forearms on Sans’s pillow, her dominating figure rubbing snugly against Sans while her hips press back. It is only now that she provocatively grazes her pink pussy against Sans’s rigid cock, smearing and slathering her juices over his length.

! ! !

“hNG-! awh, fffuck-!” Sans throws his head back, easily stimulated by the gummy folds sweeping against his throbbing tip. Nerves fire in his fingertips when his hands uncontrollably grope June’s wide hips, his limbs trembling feverishly. “mmgh-… june… fffuh-… feels… sso good…”

“Yeah?” June laughs softly, her tone dropping several octaves, evolving into a tantalizing inflection of her voice. Her hips continue to rock up and down, pressing Sans’s cock between her folds—drenched in viscid arousal—coating his length. “This feels good, sweetie? You like this…? My pretty, pink pussy rubbing up against your sensitive cock?”

“hngh-! i- hah- i love it! mmgh-! june, i love it!” Sans gasps, “please… ngh… don’t-…don’t stop!”

Her throat trills with a delighted hum, fondly observing her whining human sob and moan under her voluptuous form, savoring the shine of his cheeks in the moonlight and his gaping, panting lips embellished with threads of saliva. June’s ears hang over Sans’s head, capturing every meager sound slipping past his lips, confining all his sweet, lustful sounds within the crevices of her throbbing SOUL.

June’s hips slow when she finally drags her cunt up to the arc of his pulsing head, her rubellite-pink eyes studying the twitch of Sans’s widening eyes, listening to his gulp of air hitch in his throat. June slowly curls her digits into the squishy fabric of Sans’s pillow, her triangular nose enthusiastically twitching. Her eyes dilate as she fixates on his disheveled expression, her devious smirk fading to a neutral state, intently scrutinizing him as if the human will disappear within the blink of an eye.

“I want you inside me, Sans,” she says frankly, hardly leaving room for any innuendo. “Do you wanna cum in me?” June murmurs as she leans closer than ever, ghosting her lips against his quivering ones.

His hands tighten their grip on her hips, stirring her unblemished snowy-white fur, a surge of desire coursing through his nerves like the highest form of drug. Sans whimpers against June’s taunting lips, his squishy form shaking in an undeniable display of his need for her.

“hgn! fuck! please, june, oh, please-! i- hha- i wan-… i wanna cum inside you so bad! oh, please, please, please… hhgn… i-i’ll do anything-!”

“Hmm… I know you will, baby… it’s okay,” June’s voice coos, “Let me take care of my good, little human…”

The next thing Sans knows, June’s warm body peels from his and sits tall above his lap, an indescribable fog of distress smothering his SOUL now that there is a space between him and the rabbit monster. He quietly whines, wanting nothing more than for her to return to him and cradle his vulnerable body, craving the sense of protection only she could give him. Sans’s throat is quick to strangle any sound of dismay when a slick and tight warmth swallows his pulsating tip, stretching to accommodate his girth.

A stiffness overcomes his limbs, accompanied by a powerful sensation of pleasure when his teary eyes land on June, who has her soft hands pinned on his spongy thighs, keeping her front exposed under the moonlight’s silvery illumination. He is deemed utterly breathless by the sight of his loving girlfriend gradually seating herself on his glistening shaft, watching with wide, enthralled cerulean eyes as her magenta-pink, slick, swollen folds stretch around the thickness of his cock.

He can’t help but drool at the mass of arousal dribbling down the length of his rigid dick, keeping his flesh coated in a lubricant that aids June in languidly sliding further down his shaft. Sans heaves for air at the sight of June’s vividly pink pussy swallowing his dick in avaricious manner, a groan shamelessly reverberating within his vocal cords when her gummy insides compulsively clench around him.

“agh-! fuckkk! june! ohhh, ffuck… y’-… y’feel… mgh- so good… hhah- y’feel so good ‘round me…” he moans under her weight, hands trembling on her hips.

June’s ears stand tall on the curve of her head, flinching and jolting with each pleasure point Sans’s cock hits the further it slides inside her. A collection of fond sighs and surprised squeals fleeing her parted lips, flimsy strands of drool linking between her upper and lower set of teeth, vibrant pink tongue slipping out.

“HHa-! Mmgh…” June moans, her hips jolting when she finally seats herself against his pelvis, gasping excitedly when his throbbing tip prods at what she assumes to be her g-spot (she did have to spend quite a few hours researching the anatomy of a human female’s genitalia in order to shape one of her own). June instinctively palms her flushed, fuzzy cheeks, panting excitedly, “Mmh… you feel so… hh-… so nice inside me, Sans. Ngh-! Mm… my sweet… little human…”

Gripping on her fluffy skin, Sans throws his head back with a moan heavy on his lips, finding his mind is quickly deprived of any lucid thought. He can’t focus on anything except the pleasant aroma inhabiting the room along with the squishy tightness wrapping around his twitching cock, dots of salty sweat rolling down his features—twisted with wanton desire and uncontrollable pleasure. Sans’s heart pounds in his chest, echoing in the depths of his ears, blood coursing through his pudgy body, intensifying the pulse in his neck and his engulfed dick.

fuck fuck fuck fuck…

feels- feels so good…

shit… i love ‘er so much… 

oh, my god, this is too much…

i-… i’m gonna fucking cum again. christ…

Sans’s doughy body quivers on the bed sheets, his pale ivory skin coated by a sheen layer of sweat that glistens in the moonlight. He weakly tilts his head down, an eyelid squinting shut while the other struggles to focus on June’s pristine white figure.

Panting, Sans manages to groan out, “jj-… june… ‘m-… ‘m gonna… hahh cc-cum again… if y’start… mm-movin’…”

June’s curious eyes widen with a discernible twinkle, pleased to learn just how undone she makes her boyfriend feel merely by penetrating her. She hums in recognition, mischief sparkling in her scrutiny.

“Oh?” She almost instantly begins to roll her hips, evoking a sharp hiss from the human. “You’re going to cum again? Mmh… do it, Sans…”

“hh-huh-…?”

June peels her hands from the flesh of his thighs and somewhat firmly grabs his shoulders, her radiant eyes piercing through the darkness to stare him down. She notices a wince overtakes him for an instant as she bores her gaze into him, finding his alarm for her intense desire arousing.

“Cum in me, Sans. I want to feel everything. Don’t hold anything back,” she orders him, ears twisted to face him like a second pair of fierce eyes. “I’ll make you feel good… I’ll make you feel so good… you’ll love everything about it… about yourself… I’ll love you so good… so well…”

As she rants about her intentions, Sans finds himself all choked up with her hips merely rolling around his pelvis, her insides squeezing his rockhard cock—stimulating the sensitive veins hiding under his flesh. He gulps and gasps, practically suffocating in this thick, rich, and filthy atmosphere June seems to radiate the longer she stares at him, observing every twitch of his facial features and admiring his trembling body as it lays beneath her.

The instant her finger pads brush up against his quickened pulse, Sans grits his teeth and throws his head back, every muscle in his body tensing up; his hold on her hips clenching as a strangled moan shakes his vocal cords, rumbling in his chest, tears spawning from the corners of his squinted eyes.

“hck-! nghh-! ffu-ckkk-! hAH-!” The human moans as cum shoots deep inside June’s gooey walls, the rim of her cunt squeezing uncontrollably around the base of his shaft.

June gasps as pressure builds within the lower half of her torso, finding this sensation peculiar yet exhilarating. She moans quietly alongside her weakened human, who parts his lips and gulps heaps of air as he releases a load inside her. The rabbit monster, enthralled by her human’s sensitivity, hums softly and continues to grind her hips against his pelvis, earning bits of stimulation against her tender clitoris. 

Restraining a squeal of surprise, June directs her attention down her curvaceous torso, curious by how sensitive the little pearl of nerves seems to be. Each time she burrows her hips further down, she feels powerful waves of tingles surge up her body, clasping the juncture of Sans’s neck and shoulders with shaking palms.

She is quick to shift her focus to every sound he has to give her, every twitch he cannot control as she allows his orgasm to roll over his body. Moaning softly, June leans over his torso, gently maneuvering his head to nuzzle her tremulous nose against his, planting a tender, saccharine sweet kiss to his lips.

“Mhm… so good for me… such a good, little human… you’re doing so well, baby…” she soothingly mumbles against him, her eyelids hooded in her examination of his state. Spying no signs of extreme discomfort or uneasiness, June smiles softly and sits back up, savoring Sans’s stifled gasps and broken whimpers. “It’s alright, sweetie. I’ll take good care of you. You’re making me so proud… hmf… filling me up so good…”

Her words, as sweet as their quality seem, are saturated with libidinous feelings, drawing out a breathless whine from Sans, who furrows his brows and squeezes his eyes shut. He can barely focus on his surroundings, overwhelmed by the smell of June’s pheromones and the sensation of her cunt milking everything out of him. Sobbing softly, he peels his eyelids open, greeted by the sight of June staring right back with a heartfelt fondness in her eyes.

“I’m going to move now… is that okay, sweetie?” she inquires, gently palming his cheek to cradle his heated face.

Not trusting his voice, Sans strains himself to nod almost savagely, his clammy hands sliding up and down June’s ample hips, toying with the flab sitting around her lower waist. He licks his lips frantically, gawking up at his statuesque lover with pleading eyes.

“Alright, I’ll move,” June lovingly replies, swiping away at a thread of tears staining Sans’s round cheek.

Her lower abdomen flexes alongside the insides of her thick thighs, granting June enough strength to drag her weight upward, pussy inevitably inching up his length—silken by her juices and his leaking cum. June whines softly, her cunt clamping around Sans’s dick until she reaches his overly sensitive tip, dribbles of semen oozing from her quivering hole, coursing down his length, leaving behind thin layers of gloss on his flesh.

It seems the gluttonous rabbit monster can’t restrain her excitement, because another powerful wave of pleasure rolls over Sans’s body, his stiff member engulfed by June’s slippery heat—his cockhead prodding at every pleasure point.

Moaning on her way down, June clamps around his cock and glances down, spotting a clear pool of their fused arousal and cum, a compelling influx of intense desire and greed filling her rapidly beating SOUL. A sharp inhale of air fills her incomprehensible pair of lungs, nose twitching enthusiastically above her parted lips.

Feels good, feels good, feels good, feels so so good!

June’s thighs flex as she begins to set an even pace on her bouncing, invoking an orchestra of gasps and exhilarated moans from Sans’s parted lips, her cunt throbbing around his length. She palms her fluffy cheek with a wide-eyed look, entirely fascinated by the barrage of sensation riddling over her physical body and her SOUL, which convulses ardently within the confines of her vessel. Moaning, June forces her hips to roll down, her swollen heat swallowing Sans’s cock shamelessly.

She throws her glance down to the human pinned beneath her, chewing on her lower lip at the sight of his undoing. His head is thrown back, tears evidently shimmering on the plumpness of his cheeks, his mouth gaping with gossamer strands of drool slipping out, entirely engulfed in his rapture. She can feel how tight his grip becomes on her hips, convinced this could surely bruise any ordinary human, but she feels no fear, knowing he would never do anything to hurt her. In fact, she merely finds his rough handling further enticing.

June hums pleasantly, rocking her hips up and down at a sickeningly even pace, practically driving her human mad. She leans her weight forward, pressing her palms directly onto Sans’s trembling shoulders, her pink finger pads sinking into his soft skin. A heavy moan rolls off of June’s lips as her hips continue to drive down, sinking her viscid cunt onto the human’s slick shaft, her insides stroked by his length repeatedly.

The tips of her tongue peek out from between her lips, hunger flashing in the rabbit monster’s eyes, perforating the dimness of their room, sending shivers throughout Sans’s body. He groans, weakly tilting his head lower to observe June’s eyes widen with fascination and pleasure, her tense abdomen and thighs quivering faintly. In the midst of his admiration of her physique, Sans’s throat is choked up when his cock is stroked at a quicker pace, inciting a flame of intense arousal in his chest.

Sweat builds across his forehead, tears springing in the corners of his eyes as the pleasure rises, lips parting to release a symphony of whines and needy gasps. He sees June’s eyes squint above him, her tongue retreating to the comfort of her mouth before her teeth dig into her bottom lip, a soft rosy hue building across her snowy-white features.

“Hng-! Ahh… Ssans… my good, little human… hgn… pleasing me so nicely… hha… filling me up… doing so-… mmh- so well for me…” June moans, her eyes gradually rising to the headboard of their bed before they rise further up, tempted to roll to the back of her head each time her g-spot is prodded at. “Mmh… I don’t want anyone else to be under me… hahh… only you, sweetie… mmgh…”

Sans’s hands shake in their grasp, chest pounded by his increasing heartbeat, his lungs at a constant loss of air before they are overwhelmed by heavy gasps of it. He glances down with teary cerulean eyes, listening to the softs plaps of their bodies meeting. A squeeze disturbs his chest as he scrutinizes the obscene view of June’s glistening pussy, swallowing his firm length over and over, a shameful red heat gnawing at his face.

The human’s glossy eyes cannot seem to tear away from the cunt thrusting down on his dick, but when he notices a soft whimper roll off his girlfriend’s parted lips, he can’t help but sharply inhale. He gulps breathlessly, mainly focusing on not cumming again when June hasn’t even experienced one. To aid his curvaceous girlfriend, he weakly coasts his hand from her jolting hip to the juncture of her legs, his thumbprint nimble in tenderly nudging June’s clitoral hood (he momentarily finds the precision and accuracy of her magic utterly fascinating, though clearly he has no time to uncover what else she is capable of).

June gulps breaths of air, her immaculate snowy-white fur ruffled by Sans’s gliding palm. A flash of bemusement crosses June’s features until she uncontrollably winces and clamps around Sans’s thick girth, hot bursts of pleasure surging up her body directly from between her legs—above the slick opening of her cunt.

“HHA-! Ahh-!”

Sans grits his teeth, straining himself to keep his concentration when the wet, mushy heat around his cock clenches abruptly. He groans loudly, rubbing circles against June’s slick pearl of nerves, hips jolting up to meet with June’s. Listening to her whines rise to a higher octave invokes a rich sense of pride within Sans, confident to know only someone like him could wrench out sounds of raw bliss from the white rabbit.

“Hha-! Ah… ahh-! Ss-Sans-! I-… hngg-! I think… mmgh- I think I’m going to—”

“awh, fucckk-! cum, baby, oh please… mmgh… cc-cum for me! mmhg…”

Throwing her head back, June’s voice climbs the ladder of her vocal cords and erupts in a sharp, prolonged wail, her thrusts evidently slowing. She quivers uncontrollably, the rim of her pussy squeezing the base of Sans’s cock, juices seeping from her velutinous folds, dribbling out crystalline alongside meager globs of milky-white cum. Cumming around Sans’s engulfed cock, June pants heavily, still thrusting her hips albeit slowly, her pussy lips throbbing and her ears now lying flat against her back—deemed too weak to stand proud.

“Mghh… hha… ahhh…” she huffs, evidently short-winded. She stares down at Sans through a film of salty tears, her eyebrows creased above her nose. “Hmm… a-are you going… hhf-… t-to cum in me, baby? Oh, please,” June whines, “Hhah-! Cum in me again. Ahh… be-… mgh-! Be a… good, little human… mmh… hah- make- make me proud, sweetie… cum for me…”

“hhn-! ffuck, june! hah! yer-… yer so… mmh- yer too good for me… hhah! oh, fuck… hnn… ‘m-… ‘m gunna… cc-cum again… ngh-! a-AH-!”

Seizing under the weight of June’s body, Sans sharply gasps and groans out into the hot atmosphere of their room, his head burrowing into the softness of his pillow. Tears spring in the corners of his eyes, rolling down his reddened cheeks and plopping into the pristine fabric of Sans’s pillow, leaving behind small, circular stains. His heart races inside his ribcage, pounding like a drum, blood rushing in his veins progressively—burning through the color of his pale ivory cheeks.

Releasing his load into June’s gushy womb, Sans vigorously trembles, an acute weakness taking over his body—rendering him utterly breathless and limp. He keeps his lips parted, gulping in heaps of air, throat running dry and scraping against his vocal cords. Groaning weakly, Sans gradually tilts his head lower, tiredly blinking his tears away.

June bites her lower lip, squeezing almost every ounce of hot, milky-white cum Sans has to offer, waves of pleasure running through her lower torso, tingles stroking her silky insides. She moans softly, lightly rolling her hips in a means of stroking both of their orgasms out until they’re fully satisfied.

“Mmh… so good… you did so well for me…” hums the snowy-white rabbit, lids hanging low.

“hhn…” Sans weakly moans. “…did… didja know ‘m… a… was… a virgin…?” He mumbles, his voice bleary, rumbling in his chest. “fforgot… ta mention that, i guess…”

June softly giggles, “I didn’t… but I was one, too! So, I guess that makes us even!”

Sans sighs with relief, gazing up at his discernibly elated lover who slowly bends forward, resting a slim portion of her weight against his doughy frame. He winces slightly, finding his cock is still sensitive while wrapped around her sopping heat.

“Mm…” moans June as she situates the lengths of her arms on either side of Sans’s clean-shaven head, stroking his hot, sweaty skin with the beans of her fingers. She hums in a pleasant tone, pressing her lips delicately against Sans’s.

Sans instinctively reciprocates June’s kiss, coiling his trembling arms around the back of her waist, knowing his limbs are way too exerted to do just about anything else. He kisses her back weakly, letting her gulp down his quiet moans, his brows unconsciously furrowing at the minute sensations blanketing his cock. Slickness glides down his length though nothing is done to cease the drip, leaving behind a shimmering mess over the human’s pelvis whilst soaking into the fur of June’s thighs.

“hff-… that was… hh… nice…” Sans breathes out as they separate, squinting at June’s… oddly mischievous expression.

A single pat hits his pelvis, stirring a rush of both alarm and confusion.

Soon, June’s hips begin to rise and fall, an abundance of bodily fluids leaking from her squelching cunt. Sans’s cerulean eyes widen, bombarded with another slew of pleasure, groaning from his hypersensitivity now that his cock is stirred back to its rockhard state (which he can’t seem to fathom).

hh-huh-?

June’s rubellite eyes now sparkle with intense fascination and keen attraction, her desire now burning like a wildfire within the pits of her pounding SOUL. Her lashes flutter tenderly, tickling her fluffy yet vaguely rosy cheeks, lips gradually parting. June’s throat trills with a gentle, amused chuckle, her arms gingerly coiling around the silhouette of Sans’s head. She is intently focused on the collection of overstimulated whines and open-mouthed gasps escaping Sans’s quivering lips, observing the human fall completely apart under her curvaceous form. Milky-white cum seeps from June’s slick cunt, lining the brim of her lips as she thrusts her hips further down, squeezing more tearful moans from her pudgy human.

It is with a sultry, utterly devilish tone that June murmurs,

“You’ve heard of the phrase… ‘make like bunnies’, haven’t you~?”

“I think we still have a problem to solve…”

The ring of seduction is apparent in her voice and it brings an overwhelming numbness to Sans’s knees, luring whispered curses from between his swollen lips. When he inevitably looks into her eyes, he sees everything. He sees himself in those enticing rubellite eyes, and somehow he feels… proud to see himself. Maybe it’s because he is a bare witness to the captivation swirling in June’s attentive gaze, a silent memo of her true feelings in this moment.

His cheeks submit to June’s gentle caresses, tingles roaming his skin each time the pink buds of her fingers sweep by. He leans closer to earn more of her touch, a crooked smile parting across his lips.

June smiles back, her lengthy ears curled forward in obvious display of her keen interest. She studies every jolt and crease across his face, seeking every minute reaction as if they reward her efforts—they do, in a way. A hum vibrates her throat, snagging Sans’s attention.

“You are just the cutest…” she murmurs, leaning her torso forward so that her lips may paint transparent kisses against his smooth skin.

A quiet hum of approval tickles Sans’s skin, her nose repeatedly pecking his forehead as she migrates across his face. June sharply inhales, refusing to part from his skin, almost as if the subtle salty taste he leaves against her tongue is addicting. An indescribable instinct pours over June, driving her tongue past the barrier of her lips and against Sans’s bare skin. She gives him numerous yet pithy licks over his forehead, followed by eager kisses which prove to send butterflies around Sans’s SOUL.

Sans has half a mind to burst out in short laughs, finding her terse licks ticklish almost. Although anyone would view the display peculiar, Sans is grateful he’s managed to pick a book up on rabbit behavior. Based on what research he’s done, June strives to demonstrate the highest level of affection a rabbit could possibly give, filling him with pride. His heart beats heavily, echoing within the drums of his ears.

His hands are unsure where to sit at first, but soon find refuge in the curve of June’s waist, coasting his prints up and down until they reach the pudge by her hips.

“Mmh-…” June moans against his heated flesh, lips smacking gently only for her furry cheek to rub against the top of his smooth, shaven head. “I love you so so much,” she sighs, “Just wanna keep you safe. Keep you all to myself… Wanna make you feel good, baby…”

Sans’s breath falls short, unaccustomed to such blatant display of affection—real affection. Affection derived from a desire with no deception involved. It stirs an innate warmth in his chest, drawing out a quiet groan of approval.

“Mm-… i love y’too, juney…” he mumbles back, tilting his head back to press a lingering kiss to her cheek.

A delightful giggle leaves June as she pulls away slowly, her hands maneuvering his head in a way to permit eye contact between them. She lovingly gazes down at him, admiring how saccharine his wistful eyes have become. She can’t help but peck his round nose again.

“Mwah- do you want me to make you feel good, my sweet human?” She croons, staring past her wispy lashes and directly at Sans’s face. Another soft giggle tickles her lips in the midst of her observation, delighting in his mystified expression—the way his lips remain parted and his brows relax above his lids elicits a pride that blooms throughout her chest.

Sans’s lower lip quivers, fluttering his lids shut and responding with a calm yet longing nod.

“god, yes,” he breathes out, “i want all of you, baby.”

This time it’s June’s turn to jolt with evident fluster conquering her face. Her ears jump straight up, rubellite eyes widening before they soften and twinkle with adoration. She smiles, pulling her torso close until her body is intimately pressed against his. Although she lacks a beating heart, June can easily feel his pumping vehemently, a sign he’s just as excited as her.

“I wanna help you… will you let me?” Asking in her naturally sweet voice, June cradles Sans’s face, the beans etched on the prints of her fingers tenderly stretching his squishy skin. She stares at him with keen fascination, enamored by humans and their anatomy.

Sans releases an airy laugh, succumbing to his bunny girlfriend’s probing and squeezing. It is only fair she does the same as he’s so often explored almost every inch of her body.

“yy-yeah… go-… go ‘head,” he mutters, though his words are quickly shrouded by his lips squishing together.

June quietly squeals, her nose twitching uncontrollably.

“Ahh! You’re just so adorable! Mwah mwah mmmwah-!”

Driven with what can only be described as an aggressive form of love, June plasters numerous kisses across Sans’s face—his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his forehead, his eyelids, and then his lips. She cannot seem to control the way her lanky legs eagerly rock up and down against the edge of the cushion, filling the spacious living room with quiet thumps.

Suddenly, Sans finds himself gawking at June. A tension courses through his pudgy form as soon as he identifies a rich engrossment in her eyes, robbed of his breath and composure. He cannot notice how his hands tremble against June’s waist, desperate to seek more of her furry skin. Heat travels throughout his small body, practically suffocating him up until June peels herself from his vulnerable lap.

“mm—”

“Shhh,” June hushes, “I just wanna take care of you, my sweet little human…”

Sans flushes red. He is blessed by the sight of June in all her glory—stood at her full, domineering height, hands glued to her wide hips (with which her pajama shorts greedily cling to), and possessing an air of intrepid authority that sends tingles straight to his groin. Bound to his cushiony seat, Sans is forced to merely gawk up at his snowy-furred girlfriend who returns his look of awe with a knowing grin.

“Mmh,” June moans above him, her thighs flexing as she bends down to her knees, her fur tickled by their pristine carpet. She is unable to refrain herself from plastering her hands onto Sans’s knees only to drag her pink pads up across his smooth, peachy skin, tickling his thighs. As soon as her digits snag on the material of his matching pajama shorts, June’s hooded eyes fly up to Sans’s rosy face. “You are just the cutest little thing… you rile me up so much sometimes, it makes me wanna jump on you…”

Her voice immediately sends Sans into a fit of uncontrollable trembles, unable to maintain solid eye contact. His breathing shakes and his face feels unbearably hot, humiliation burning inside his blood. He didn’t expect to be rendered speechless in a mere matter of seconds, but what else could he say when his gorgeous bunny girlfriend utters such sweet words in that sultry tone?

oh, shit.

Sans pales as realization dawns on him.

i’m so fucking hard for her.

Giggles rise out of June’s throat, resonating within the familiar space of their open-floor apartment, revealing June situated between the human’s legs. Her lengthy ears twist forward, snaring each and every subdued sound writhing out of Sans’s lips to hold on to as a keepsake. June’s hands glide over his exposed skin, pressing her vibrant pads against wavering bands ingrained on his legs—his stretch marks.

For a moment, Sans holds his breath. He expects June to cease her doting actions, to pull her hands away from him in uncertainty and mumble that she is no longer interested in going further than this tonight. His assumption is usurped, however, by a surge of pleasant surprise when June merely stretches her palms over his flesh.

June’s fingers grope his legs softly, enamored by how squishy her stout human is. She could never get tired of this, of feeling up every inch of his body regardless of whatever insecurity disturbs him. She loves every part of him, and she’ll be damned if she can't help him love himself, too.

“So soft,” she hums, bending her head down to kiss his thigh. Her ears fold back, draping across her upper back and granting her enough room to discover stretches of skin she so eagerly craves. “Hmm… you smell so… nice… so delicious…”

Sans winces. He hasn’t showered in a hot minute. Did she say delicious?

“er- ehm… hha- june, you—”

Refusing to spare any second in her doting, June hangs her jaw, sensually dragging her vividly pink tongue against the side of his knee up to the inside of his thigh.

“hg—”

Jolting in his seat, Sans gasps for breath, palming his mouth with a clammy hand while his other hand searches blindly for June’s. As soon as it brushes against hers on his thigh, he clasps it tightly, trembling under her hot mouth. Feeling her slippery tongue glide against his marks entices low, almost timid groans from his vocal cords, heat blooming across his sweaty cheeks.

Moans of delight ring from June’s gaping mouth, swallowed as soon as she tears her tongue away, gossamer threads of her saliva connecting her lips to his flushed skin. June pants quietly as she wipes her lower lip, palming her fluffy cheek with a look of enthusiasm painted across her face.

“Hha- I could lick you all over,” she giggles, “Wouldn’t you like that, baby?”

Shamelessly, Sans nods quickly, squinting down at June through a screen of tears.

She hums in approval, stretching her fingers to clasp his visibly smaller one. Gently, she leads his palm to her glistening lips, planting yet another kiss.

“Mm… I wanna hear your voice. Don’t be shy…”

As though he’s been caught red-handed, Sans flinches, tranquil cerulean eyes widening down at June’s face, morphed to shamelessly flaunt her desire—a desire held only for him. Nervously, his hand twitches away from his shuddering lips, gasping for breath.

“There we are…” June’s silky voice croons, evoking a rush of arousal through her human yet again. “Such a good job… my little human knows how to make me proud, hmm?”

oh, my god, i’m going to lose my shit for her.

Shortly, a whimper cracks through Sans’s throat, filling him with shame. He squeezes June’s hand instinctively, distinctly aware of how hard his SOUL pulsates inside his chest.

“I want… a little more… Are you okay with that, baby? Do you want to stop here?” The bunny inquires with a short tilt of her head, rubellite eyes twinkling up at him.

He is rendered both speechless and breathless by the scene before him. Their living room is eclipsed by a saccharine caramel illumination, shadows stretching out across their walls and floors, it almost looks like a painting from the museum not so far from their apartment. June is placed directly between his legs, her snowy fur stroked by a brush of orange and purple, her deeply fascinated eyes staring attentively up at him. One of her hands continues clasping his while the other one coasts up his leg, reaching the hem of his shorts and toying with the loose fabric in aimless habit.

He can’t believe he’s here.

“god, juney, please,” he hears himself beg, his baritone voice somehow coming out strained and fragile. “fuck… i want you… ss-so bad…”

A smile cracks across June’s lips, her lashes fluttering against her fluffy cheeks.

“Silly, little human…” she murmurs, “you already have me.”

god, i already have her…

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you feel so good… just trust me,” the snow-white bunny assures him, slipping her hand from his shaky grasp.

Both hands snake up his legs, her touch compelling shudders and goosebumps. Although she ruffles his shorts, June’s hands carry on in their journey to reach his waist, coiling her lengthy digits around the elastic band almost eagerly. Her eyes—naturally wide with an eager desire to learn everything about the people and the world around her—pull away from Sans’s flustered expression (as much as she loves watching his features contort and twist with timid pleasure), latching on to his waist and crotch.

As she teases this boundary, June remains entirely oblivious to the way her pretty pink nose twitches attentively, overcome by pure excitement and a desire to satisfy her shaven lover.

Sans can feel his heart hammer against his ribcage, making it increasingly difficult for him to breathe seamlessly. It takes everything in him to not squirm before June’s prying hands, finding that a repressed doubt lingers and simmers at the back of his mind. With June tenderly ushering his hips up, Sans has no room for resistance and obediently raises himself to be stripped of his shorts, left behind in his white tee and ridiculous boxers, revealing a pattern of koalas and leaves.

In his defense, they were the cleanest pair he could find this morning.

“You are adorable,” June laughs softly, nonchalantly tossing his shorts far from the scene.

“hh-heh… i guess it’s, erm-… mm-my best… koalaty…”

puns? right now? just before i get fucked out of my mind?

“…” Her stare is unmoving, facial features entirely lax.

Dread immediately tickles his spine in a downward spiral. He wants the couch cushions to swallow him whole, humiliated for thinking something that stupid would—

“Pfft—”

mmh—?

June palms her lips as she bursts into a short fit of giggles, her snowy cheeks dusted by a subtle rose hue. Her ears stand straight, twisted outward in a display of her relaxed demeanor.

“You never fail to make me laugh, hm? I love that about you, you know?”

“erm…”

Her thighs flex, utilizing her strength to lift herself up in order to plaster soft kisses to his parted lips, ears gradually twirling away only to rest flat against her back. Shivers tickle her beneath her trimmed fur as Sans glides both hands over her shoulders, desperate to draw her close to him. Any low hums or groans Sans is incapable of stowing away is eagerly gulped by the bunny, who pins her palms on his hips.

Their lips smack quietly as they part, Sans’s breath ghosting over her lips and tickling her sensitive nose. June bends closer, nuzzling the print of her nose against Sans’s adorably round one, abandoning dabs of moisture over his smooth skin. He is incapable of suppressing his airy laughs, lids fluttering closed as June spoils him with more gentle kisses.

As soon as Sans observes this moment as the softest, most intimate moment he’s had with June, he is flabbergasted when his pudgy chin is automatically seized in her dexterous hand. Before he can make a sound, Sans is instantly silenced by a deep, passionate kiss, lips embraced by her delicate ones. Warmth blooms across his face, the rosiness of his skin increasing beneath the caramel lighting of their shared living room. Slowly, his eyelids hang until they’re entirely closed, succumbing to his girlfriend’s zealous love and fondness, a vague essence of herbs and salads tingling his taste buds—must have been that dinner full of greens June had earlier.

His hands—outrageously small compared to June’s dominant ones—glissade over her snowy-white fur, stirring her pristine hairs individually, disheveling her trimmed appearance little by little until he palms the sides of her neck, thumbprints habitually coursing against her jawline. A low groan convulses Sans’s chest, subconsciously furrowing his brows as he focuses on the sensation of June’s lips pressing close to his. He stiffens in his seat when June’s lips part against his, forcing him to gradually part his as well.

Briefly, he peeks an eye open, tempted to question her intentions until a slimy pressure worms its way into his mouth, increasing the beats of his heart in a matter of seconds. Sans can barely manage a gasp when his tongue is put up against an undeniably large, long appendage, drool pooling inside his hanging jaw, threatening to spill out from the corners of his shuddering lips. His hands subconsciously fix their grip onto June’s broad shoulders, quietly gagging on what he determines is June’s tongue, which incessantly wriggles inside his gaping mouth like a prying snake.

Moans are lulled from Sans’s cords, enthusiastically swallowed down by the white rabbit who bends closer, pinning one of her hands onto the cushion behind Sans. As if returning Sans’s aroused cry, June softly groans against his glistening lips, her pink and white ears flopping against her back, twitching uncontrollably with each moan she’s rewarded with. June greedily runs her tongue in the cavern of Sans’s mouth, gulping every ounce of his humid, viscous saliva, finding his taste irresistible no matter if he tries denying his worth.

“mghm-… hgnn-… ghgck-…”

June cannot resist releasing a slew of amused giggles at the gargled sounds of her human lover struggling to catch up with her passionate tongue kiss. Despite her newfound entertainment, June can tell Sans is bordering his limit on air, sensing the way his sweaty hands clasp her shoulders tightly and shake with nerves. As reluctant as she is from parting their lips, June decides to free Sans of his lewd and carnal torture, dragging her tongue out from his yawning mouth, engulfed with a heavy mixture of both his and her drool.

As she tears her lips away, June exposes her vibrant pink appendage hanging between her lips; it dribbles and shimmers in a new coat of slobber, the mere sight of it alone eliciting a hot rush of arousal through Sans’s pudgy body. She attentively gazes down at Sans, her rubellite eyes cleaved in half by her hanging lids. Her fur stands straight as she listens to her human gasp for air, lines of spittle dribbling out of his parted lips, further aroused by the sight of his flushed, round cheeks and watery eyes.

So cute…

All mine… all mine… he’s all mine…

Sans shakes in his efforts at regaining his composure, gulping down whatever warm puddle of fluids remains in his mouth, struck with a brush of humiliation at his own lewd actions. For a moment, his vision is veiled by a layer of tears, stinging his cerulean eyes relentlessly. Rapidly, he blinks his tears away, unfolding the scene before him.

His breath is stolen from his lungs when he finally studies what was once shoved down his throat. An elongated appendage hangs from June’s lips—tinted in a resplendent pink with thin, jagged stripes running around it (reminding him of a melted candy cane almost). Her tongue shines under the lantern’s xanthous luster, showing thick beads of her and his saliva coursing down until they gather at the tips. Sans is in awe as he examines her design, noticing the tip of her tongue parts in two short ends, almost like a snake only her tongue is irrefutably thicker.

He flinches when June curls her tongue, exposing its underside. Immediately, his cheeks turn dark red. Under her tongue are scores of small, rounded bumps, reminding Sans of those peculiar foot massager mats. He can only imagine what those bumps on her tongue would feel like against his—

! ! !

The human’s shoulders jump immediately, not realizing just how quick he is to become a victim to such dirty imagery. He thought he was better than most human men, but that’s clearly not the case.

“wh-… where… ha-have you been hidin’ that?” He asks, visibly breathless.

Viewing Sans’s query as the strangest compilation of words she’s heard tonight, June tilts her head, practically slurping up her flaccid muscle back into her mouth.

“…” June blinks. “In my mouth?”

hhh—

Sans blinks dumbly, rubbing his flushed cheek while averting his gaze.

“o-oh… guess… you got a mouthful…”

…again? are you serious?

“Pfff-” June laughs again, allowing Sans to drop his shoulders. “Oh… you silly, little human…” she purrs, leaning close once again to where Sans is flooded with her powerful scent.

she smells like… strawberry ‘n… vanilla syrup…

is that green tea?

“my god, y’smell so good…” he unknowingly mumbles, eyes widening from the collection of amused giggles ringing in their living room. “shit, that… ss-sounded weird, didn’t it?”

“No, it didn’t,” she assures him, pecking his fervid cheek. “It means you can smell my pheromones… means you’re… heheh…” In her subtle yet alluring style, June wags her wide hips side to side, biting her lower lip expectantly. “Making me… all hot and bothered…”

Within the flicker of the lantern, Sans’s podgy form is permeated by countless tingles, eyes widening at a startling realization. Every time he’s been hit by a wave of crisp, flavorful aroma in the comforting privacy of their home—an aroma that could only belong to June—, he’s been sitting around his very much aroused girlfriend—aroused for him. The notion alone seems to relieve all worries he’s shouldered since nearly the start of their relationship. How freeing it feels is immaculate.

“And you smell absolutely delicious…”

Before he can find his voice, Sans gasps when June’s hands slither up his legs once again, digits now clinging onto the thin, cheap fabric of his boxers. He doesn’t seem to notice how hard he’s shaking on the cushions, too focused on how close she is between his short legs.

“juh-… june… yy-you sure y’want… to do this?” He finally musters, his throat squeezing itself out of pure anxiety. “you don’t… er-erm… gotta if you don’t… wanna…”

“Hmm,” June hums, “No. I’ve made up my mind. I wanna show you how much I love you. Ssstarting with this.”

Refusing to spare even a second, June buries her nimble digits past his elastic band, her eyes (although naturally wide) growing as a manifestation of her ever-expanding enthusiasm. She catches the hitch in Sans’s throat, her lanky ears twitching subtly, and for a terse moment, she considers Sans’s discomfort. Her hands, although already peeling the fabric of his boxers off his hips, increasingly slow down.

June debates whether or not her human partner does, in fact, feel comfortable with this. Is it still likely he doesn’t want this to happen? Is it possible he doesn’t want to do it with her—a monster?

Her internal query is answered by a swift scrutiny of Sans’s face—susceptible to any and every emotion crossing his mind like chemicals of a drug. Admiring the way Sans’s lips remain parted as he catches his breath, the way his puffy cheeks burn a delicious scarlet, and the way his eyes unveil everything he feels in this moment, June is immediately emboldened to carry on.

June, with Sans’s help, is able to slip off his wrinkly pair of boxers, indifferent to the muffled thump going off in the background as soon as her fingers release the fabric as she tosses it away.

A wave of arousal hits June the second her vibrant pink nose catches a scent that distinctly belongs to Sans, her eyes practically dilating on command, zoomed in on the origin of such an intoxicating scent.

Stood at its erect state is Sans’s pale-ivory cock, its head tinted hot red as if it has been repressing his body heat in desperate hopes of prolonging this exhilaration he feels only with June. June’s eyes almost sparkle when she spies a pearly bead of precum built atop his overly sensitive head, drool accumulating in the bed of her mouth. Even if she’s indefinitely biased, she believes Sans’s cock is as visibly pleasing as the rest of his body—it further stokes the fires of her growing desire.

With beads of precum slipping from his urethra and down the crescent of his angry-red tip, it is quick for June’s gaze to fall to the rest of his groin. His cock isn’t terribly intimidating in length, but it also doesn’t strike a chord of disappointment within the orchestra of June’s SOUL. It is even in girth and leans slightly to June’s right, curved in just a way that it seems like it’d easily hit a woman’s sensitive g-spot. Veins course up his pulsating dick, appearing more prominently on the underside of his shaft until they sink back beneath his layer of skin the further they climb.

“hha-… hhh… hff-…”

June tilts her head up, ears bouncing up and her nose increasing its incessant twitching at the delectable sight of Sans’s flustered, rosy red face. In her eyes, she sees droplets of sweat slither down his features, lips parted to grant himself better access to air, and heavy arousal swirling in his cerulean eyes. The longer she admires him, the more she begins to realize she loves seeing this side of him: a side she’s never uncovered before.

Thoughtlessly, June’s hand glides through the air in order to latch onto Sans’s unveiled cock, her SOUL jumping when the stiff muscle in her hand jerks briefly. Her excitement continues brewing as she explores this part of her human. Although it is not her first time seeing his cock after months of sharing showers, June’s hardly ever been able to please him in the way she’s witnessed through the turbulent medium of the internet.

In full honesty, she was trying to learn more about humans in general, but a peculiar account on Sans’s social media quickly caught her attention. At the time, June was mildly disturbed. She didn’t know female humans could bend in positions like those, or human penises could come in those petrifying lengths. (Didn’t that hurt those curvaceous female humans? She often asked herself.)

“hhA-! ohhh, fffuck… june…” Sans whimpers, pressing a palm to his eyelid and hissing as June’s finger pads sink into his sensitive flesh. He gasps when her hand travels further up, stoking a sultry flame which spreads its delirious warmth throughout his chest. “aah-! hhah… hh-… hff… mmh…”

Peering up at him, June innocently asks, “Does this feel good, baby? Do you like it?”

ll-like it?

“ahh… fuck, yy-yeah… feels… mmh-… ss-so good… please…” he groans, uncontrollably rutting his hips further into June’s hand.

June’s hand climbs up and down his pulsing cock, stretching his sensitive skin little by little until she grows comfortable with a pace she sees is best compatible with Sans’s pleasure. She can hear minute sounds of his slick precum slipping down his head and soaking into her hand, which further increases these lewd noises within the living room. Her eyes are intently focused on his groin, observing the way his foreskin slips over his glistening head—still bearing its heated red color like a symbol of pride—only for it to stretch back out when she slides her fist down. With her gaze so heavily focused on Sans’s stiff cock, she feels an abundance of drool accumulate under her wriggling tongue.

Briefly, her attentive eyes fly up to Sans’s flushed face, admiring the way his eyes glisten beneath the tender, sunset illumination casted by their lantern and the way his lips—coated by a sheer layer of drool—remain parted to grant him air. She can feel his muscles jolt and tense under her other, furry hand, sparing his parted legs a satisfactory glance before she allows her trunk to invade the space between them.

It feels like the further she continues to stroke him, the heavier her jaw feels, teeth firmly clenched against each other until she can take it no longer. Her jaw hinges open, unleashing a puddle of drool and releasing her serpentine tongue which instantly stretches out to coil around Sans’s uncovered cock, smearing loads of saliva over his sensitive skin.

“mgh-! hhgn! j-june-! ffuck-! Hhha-! …ahhh-!”

June lowers her hand further down his shaft, sitting at its base, allowing her to maneuver his cock head up into her gaping mouth to sit against her thick tongue. Soon, each ridge proliferated on the bottom of her vibrant pink appendage press into Sans’s fleshy cock, stimulating more places than he’s ever dreamed of. She slowly closes her mouth, her tongue piercing the barrier of her lips and slobbering over her human’s rockhard dick, and begins to bop her head, moaning at the subtle taste of his precum staining the back of her throat.

Sans swears loudly, tightly gripping the back of her hand spread against his thigh while the other digs its nails into the material of the couch beneath him. He watches her drool coat his stiff rod as her tongue slithers around it, watching it shimmer in the lantern’s caramel hue. Uncontrollable groans resonate in his throat with each long stroke of his cock, feeling each and every individual slope embedded on her appendage rub directly against his flesh—pressing snug against his sensitive veins.

His voice climbs an octave when the bunny monster tightens the embrace her tongue has around his rigid shaft, muscles in his legs tensing uncontrollably and his hands shaking with pleasure. He listens to his voice crack brazenly, reverberating within the comfort of their living room, which does nothing but further incite his cheeks to glow a sharp red color. Throwing his head back, Sans is forced to bear June’s eager yet lewd affections, subconsciously moving his hand from the couch to the space between her folded ears.

Strangely enough, June’s movement slow, but her actions are distinctively deliberate. Instead, her rubellite gaze flies up, sliding her head further down his saturated cock, her tongue rubbing each slope against his bare skin. Her moans do well to reverberate against Sans’s submerged cock, droplets of saliva gathering at her lower lip and dribbling down either onto her lap or the couch under her chin. June’s eyes flutter shut when Sans’s fingers begin to brush through the fur between her ears, stroking what happens to be one of her sweet spots.

“Mmhh… hm…” she moans against him, eagerly sliding herself closer while her long, pink appendage continues to stroke him up and down at the base of his shaft. “Hmmg… mmh…”

Sans cannot keep his gasps from escaping his parted lips, nor can he silence his guttural groans, each promiscuous sound flowing out of his mouth—music to June’s ears. He jerks his head down, watery eyes struggling to observe his girlfriend slip more of his hot cock in her mouth, hips occasionally jolting. His fingers slightly clamp above June’s head, but he refuses to manipulate her movement, knowing she’s done more than enough in the past few minutes she’s spent between his trembling legs.

“Mmgh… mmmah-… Hhaaa…” June pants, sliding her mouth away.

Despite the separation of his cock and her lips, the monster’s tongue continues to wrap around him and zealously stroke his entire length. Drool and traces of his precum accumulate around her girthy appendage, dripping in globs on Sans’s ivory skin or the fabric of their gray couch. June’s lashes flutter as she blinks her eyes open, innocently gawking up at her human whose round face shines with a sheer layer of sweat and burns a discernible crimson. She has half a mind to giggle at how undone he’s become since her lips hit his sensitive tip.

“hnng… juuune… hha… ah, ahhh… ohh, ffuck… hngnn…” Sans desperately moans, his glimmering cerulean eyes squeezing shut, quivering lips parting as he gasps for air. “mmh… feels… hhf- ss-so good… hhg… haa-!”

June finally grants herself a moment to giggle softly, dragging her lengthy tongue away only until the tips of her tongue and the tender head of his cock adhere to each other. She flicks at his tip several times, satiating herself with the stifled gasps and strangled moans resonating in their home. A long, charming hum oscillates in the white rabbit’s throat, her prurient eyes latching onto the image of Sans, flushed and entirely weak under her sinful touches.

It is with apparent fascination that June asks, “Hmm… wanna cum, baby?”

“oh-! puh-please! baby, please… hgnn-! i wanna cum. i wanna cum!” Sans pleads, panting hysterically, reaching June’s twinkling eyes and biting his lip expectantly.

“Mm… okay, baby,” croons the white rabbit, “I’ll let you cum… I wanna see everything… and I wanna hear everything… hmm… I love you, baby.”

Sans’s lips part, prepared to somewhat calmly respond to June’s tender words with equally heartfelt ones. His voice is instantaneously stolen from him, however, when June spirals her sinuous tongue around his length, feeling every singular ridge clamp against his twitching cock.

“haH-! ohh, fffuck! june! hhngn! lov- mmm… love y-… hha… love y’so… mm- much! aagh-!”

June hums assuringly, her tone reminiscent of that of an owner coaxing their pet into a sweet embrace, only this time, she’s making sure her human receives the satisfaction she believes he deserves. Her moans resonate alongside his while she makes sure her tongue squeezes almost every inch of his curved, rockhard cock, rocking itself up and down his glistening length.

Her eyes twinkle with what can only be described as gluttony by the way her gaze tracks every minute jolt, wrinkle, and shift on Sans’s face whilst her tongue continues thrusting up and down his stiff dick. Saliva and precum accumulate at particular sections of June’s tongue, whether they are the girthier end or generally hang lower as they press into Sans’s heated flesh, dripping occasionally.

Instead of displaying frustration for the mess they’re making in the comfort of their living room, Sans does nothing but stutter in his moans at the pornographic sight of June’s tongue absolutely coated in drool and his dribbling semen. His clammy hand sits between June’s ears, fingers jolting at every minute sensation shooting down his spine and enveloping his sensitive cock. He clings on to June’s hand on his thigh, unconsciously stroking her fur while his other hand has his thumb roll small circles into the space above her eyes.

Although his vision is mainly obscured by a film of glossy tears, he can feel June’s ears twitch out of instinct before they twist outward and fold behind her, laying flat against her back. He nearly questions the state of concentration until her tongue stretches out to the very base of his erected cock, a moan bound to escape his lips until his vocal cords strangle his sounds of pleasure. Sans squeezes his eyes shut, sensing June’s malleable, serpentine appendage coil around his base until her head strives to thrust closer. With so much of his length shoved in her hot, wet, and welcoming mouth, it seems June can easily manipulate her tongue to slither around his dick and reach his neglected balls—taut with an impending load of warm, white cum.

“hha-! ohhh, ffuck, june…!” Sans gasps, glassy eyes batting wide open.

June’s throat rumbles with a knowing hum, the tips of her tongue flicking and languidly stroking the space between his balls, susceptible to all forms of stimulation. She flicks her intrigued gaze up when the sopping cock in her mouth twitches, her hand lightly tracing indistinct shapes on his soft, supple skin. It is with a few more strokes of her girthy tongue that her mouth engulfs a mass of distinctly warm and gooey fluids, recognizing the notes of salt strewed across her tongue.

Shaking in his seat, Sans gasps and moans breathlessly, hand clinging onto the curve of June’s head while throwing his head back with apparent abandon. His cock twitches while enveloped by June’s sopping mouth, spewing out all that he had stored within his fleshy, expended sack. He is oblivious to how crimson his face has become since his climax, droplets of sweat slipping down his contorted features until they drip onto the couch.

“Mmh…” June moans softly, enthusiastically gulping up every ounce of cum her human has to offer, even going as far as manipulating her tongue at the base of his cock to deliberately compress it around his girth and stroke upward, squeezing the remainder of his cum into her mouth; her movement almost analogous to that of a farmer milking a cow’s udder.

Once she’s completely swallowed his milky-white fluids, June slowly drags her viscid tongue off his length and practically slurps it back into her mouth, sighing in satisfaction.

“Mmh… so delicious. You did so so well for me, baby… I am so proud of you,” she croons, now rubbing both hands over his pliant thighs, pink pads squishing into his skin, tracing his stretch marks she’s grown to love so much. “Came so nicely for me… hm… and now you’ve riled me up… made me all excited… hhgng…”

“ex-… excited? for-… for me?” Sans finds himself mumbling, listlessly blinking his teary eyes open. Staring down at his beaming rabbit partner, Sans palms both her exploring hands and anxiously murmurs, “i… i really make ya… feel this way?”

An impassive huff escapes June, her lashes fluttering closed as her lips lightly pucker in disapproval. With this unanticipated display of discontent in response to Sans’s nervous query, one would quickly ponder whether or not June is planning to pounce on him once again.

“Hmpf… didn’t I make that clear enough?” She whines softly, vibrant pink ears facing Sans, directing all of her attention to him. Without warning, June’s leg muscles flex to lift her up, her upper torso bent forward while her fluffy hands cradle his rosy-red cheeks. “Or do I need to keep showing you, sweetie?” The bunny monster inquires, though her ordinarily sweet and blithe voice is quick to adopt a sultry, provocative tone—inadvertently striking arousal throughout Sans’s stout form.

With how quick she is to move, Sans can hardly process how short the distance between their faces have grown, his glossy cerulean eyes widening at her in awe. He hesitantly palms the back of her hands, dragging his fingertips through her snowy-white fur out of subconscious habit.

His cheeks are hot red when she leans close, understanding June was hardly one to recognize the concept of personal space (she does tend to invade their friends’ bubble quite often, repeatedly asked to step back due to her lack of awareness, though she never means any harm by it). Sans’s chest quivers as he breathes out heavily, beads of sweat shimmering in the caramel lighting of their living room.

With a surprisingly weak voice, he dares to ask, “you-… you wanna… kk-keep going…?”

A sparkle flashes across June’s rubellite-pink eyes, her button nose twitching wildly, a telltale sign of her building excitement to pursue her desires—desires she holds only for the human seated before her, and only him alone. “Only if you want, Sans,” she tells him, though a part of her sincerely—desperately—wants him to say yes. Her SOUL pounds against the boundaries of her chest, convulsing with a need for more stimulation. Oh, the things she’d do for this comical human who’s stolen her SOUL…

“I’m so glad we finally have movie night again. Work’s been so rough!”

Reclining back on a dainty gray set of couch cushions is a woman, though her appearance diverges from any ordinary human one. In fact, she lacks human origin entirely.

The woman in question is a tall rabbit with pristine white fur and gaping pink eyes. Occasionally, a particle of dust or lint irritates her ears, evoking an impulsive twitch—revealing vibrant pink fur on the inside of her ears in the living room’s dim lighting. They almost glow under the scintillating streaks of orange and yellow light, casted by their cutesy lamp installed in the corner of their living room, quivering shadows flowing over her serene expression.

Her enthralling form is sprawled across her loving partner’s lap, arms coiled around a pillow’s girth to keep it situated under her head. A pair of pajama shorts and a form-fitting tank hugs her body, hardly providing warmth for the monster bunny—not that she is in dire need of it considering it is a quiet, tepid night in the midst of July.

Casually, she rocks her bare feet back and forth, little pink buds spotted on the bottoms of each toe and a large patch of pink stretched over the balls of her feet. The bunny—June—has her ears relax entirely against the sides of her head, a pleasant sigh bellowing past her lips. A quiet hum of approval thrums in her throat as a hand begins to stroke her furry back, earning a subtle shudder.

June smiles to herself, her dark lashes tickling the fur of her cheeks as she sinks into her human’s lap.

Ah, yes, her human.

Ever since monsters were decreed free from the Underground, June… explored her options. The new ones, at least.

Dating in the Underground was hard enough… considering June does not even possess full control of her own body, but dating up here, on the Surface, was often met with a series of uncertain or disinterested looks, or flat out discriminatory rejections. However, it was not until June happened to rescue a remarkably stout human from an oncoming vehicle that her dating life took a turn. He was stumpy, round-faced, and evidently bald. June swore she had to squint a little at times just to keep her vision.

According to the male human, he had a rough day at work, and was so overwhelmed with phone calls from his douchebag of a boss, he unknowingly planted himself in the middle of a road.

His name was Sans. …a rather strange name for a human, but who was June to judge?

She’s met monsters with weirder names.

It seemingly did not take long before the two bumped into each other again, only luckily there were no potential accidents involved. Over and over they met at the same bench, near a park, by the very road June saved Sans’s life on. With every meeting, the higher Sans’s spirits were lifted and the eagerness within June’s SOUL transpired into something more.

After months of meeting and hanging out together (which typically consisted of long, oddly romantic walks in the city parks, occasional attendance for DND night with Sans’s younger brother and his girlfriend, coffee playdates, and spending lively nights at raucous fairs) Sans and June very clearly cultivated feelings for one another.

It was not until Sans involved himself in a night of heavy drinking with some of his coworkers (he can hardly keep his alcohol down as it is, but supposedly that night someone received a promotion and had the urge to invite everyone down to a celebration at their local bar) that he finally confessed to the rabbit monster who unknowingly stole his heart.

Now, they are settled within a modest apartment, living comfortably with one another for the past two years. It was quite an adjustment both individuals had to make—one following the typical routines of a human lifestyle with a few alterations while the other embraced the unique customs monsterkind established in their daily lives. Of course, it did not take long for either person to voice their concerns or question each other’s habits due to curiosity. With these queries floating between them, it became easy for the couple to bond and understand one another. It became easy to embrace one another, to interlace fingers, to kiss without fear of overstepping each other’s boundaries.

June’s ears twitch at a sigh that escapes Sans, her lips tugged into a soft smile. She peels her eyes open, squinting at their TV screen, greeted by the sight of a stunning, sun-kissed woman in a sharp red dress sobbing on her ottoman because her fiance Marcó never loved her from the start, but was instead after her identical cousin (human shows are strange, June’s noted).

“Ohhh! Marcó, mi traidor amor! ¿Por qué? Why?! Why couldn’t you love me, oh, Marcó?!”

Sans quietly chuckles, “yeah, nothin’ ever beats Amor Cruzado Doble n’matter how cliche it gets.”

“Mm…” June hums, tone hinting approval. “I think these humans cry a little too much, though… so many wasted tears.”

“what? monsters gotta conserve tears now, too?”

“Mmm, no,” June says, “We just don’t cry this often.”

Sans laughs, “s’not like we cry that often either. this is just for dramatics.”

“Ohh… how is this entertaining?” She turns her head, curiously squinting, directly at Sans. One of her ears perks up, standing to better capture his baritone voice—oh, how she loves listening to her human ramble on and on; it could always be about whatever in the world, too. As long as she gets to hear his excitement through the medium of his voice, she could never complain.

Sans tears his naturally sleepy gaze from the bright screen to return June’s concentrated stare. He immediately senses a bead of sweat rolling from his temple, down the side of his round cheek, a dry laugh leaving him. It is as if he’s been shoved in the limelight when she gives him those eyes. Her attention in general seems to take him aback—constantly sending his stomach into a burst of jitters.

His hands slow their repetitive strokes, settling at the small of her back.

“er- i guess people think it’s funny ‘cos it’s something we feel like doin’ all the time… but we just don’t have the time to,” he explains. “so we watch other people cry on television ‘n call it good.”

“…” June blinks, her lips held at a steady horizontal plane. “It just seems like an excuse to laugh at crying people.”

“pfff— maybe. not like i blame ‘em.”

A tight display of disapproval crosses June’s face.

“You can always cry in front of me, you know?” She tells him. “I would never judge you for crying!”

yer just too kind, juney. of course you’d never judge me for that.

Sans permits a chuckle and anxiously scratches away a persistent itch eating at the back of his neck, tranquil cerulean eyes opting to focus on the illuminated screen before him.

“i know ya won't, juney,” he replies, resuming his gentle caressing movement against her back.

While she admits his tender touch kindles a relaxing warmth across her furry form, June can’t help but turn away with a pout heavy on her lips. She slumps her head and shoulders against her pillow, chin sinking in the material.

Though she’s never mentioned it vocally, June always notices the short-lived moments of hesitation: the subtle stiffness of his arms when he’s removing a shirt, the hitch in his throat when he realizes he’s been rambling, even the shy evasion of eye contact during their public dates.

What goes through his head in those moments?

June burrows her chin further into the pillow, a subtle crease engraved between her pale eyebrows.

Is it because… I’m a monster?

Is it because… I’m a bunny monster?

She quietly huffs, ears laying flat against her head.

Seems obvious what’s going on.

Ah, the counterpart. June was never just one monster in her body. There were always two. June and Lune. Lune always peered through June’s subconscious to keep tabs on everything around them, seeing as how June hardly spared any attention to her surroundings and typically wound up lost because of it (the number of times she’s realized she was stranded in a mall is embarrassing). Unlike June, Lune is a feline monster.

With a black furry form and sharp golden eyes and gold-tipped ears, Lune is easily discovered amongst a crowd of monsters… mainly because she gets rowdy and stirs trouble for the sake of it. Living the norm was always bland for her. She has to have something!

Introducing her to Sans was… a lot easier than June thought it’d be. June originally assumed the human would want nothing to do with them once he learned the truth of their condition. As it turned out, Sans didn’t mind their peculiar circumstance. All it meant was that he could give twice as much love now.

It’s… obvious?

Of course it’s obvious.

He’s a human. That’s the issue.

Ugh, you’re relentless.

Not all humans are bad, y’know?

Tch- I don’t do exceptions.

Okay, that is a lie.

As June’s features twist and contort in subconscious efforts, she is ignorant to the twinkling of deep admiration in her partner’s eyes. Whilst shooing her counterpart’s pessimistic presence away, June relieves a gentle sigh from her large, inexplicable set of lungs.

Sans pinpoints his focus on the back of June’s head, marveling at her features even if he is only capable of catching glimpses of her fluid profile. Everything about her seems to enrapture his spirit, every fiber of his SOUL, which does nothing but thrum peacefully for her.

Her fur is pale and soft; clean and trimmed just so that he could never tire of petting her. He’s noticed how quickly his stress pours out of him every time he’s coasted his palms across her fur, leaving his body like a deep sigh from his lungs. Her eyes are enthralling gems—like rubellite—always wide with a keen want to learn more and study the bustling world around her. Every time they fall on him, they never fail to steal his breath from him. He feels as though he’s the only one in her world when she looks his way. It gets his cheeks all flushed and his body all warm, his clothes suddenly uncomfortable against his skin.

i just can’t believe i get to be here…

with her…

she makes me feel so… happy. heh, can’t remember th’last time someone’s done that.

June brought a thrilling warmth in his life since the very beginning. When her arms slithered around his stocky form and kept him close to her firm trunk, Sans felt… a jolt of energy. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Everything was the same to him. It was always routine.

Hear the alarm blare at his bed stand in a maddening rhythm. Over and over again.

Slam his hand over the dismiss button.

Shuffle out of his disheveled sheets, shoulders sore and drooping.

Hop out of bed as much as his body begged him to sleep in. He’s skipped work too many times this month.

Get dressed. Eat that ordinary, sickeningly tasteless cereal for the fourth time in a row. Return Papyrus’s calls with another retelling of his previous week.

Leave the house. Lock the door. Get to the bus stop. Stand in that crowded space—humid, compact, and practically rancid—for at least half an hour. Get off the bus. Walk through those dreadful doors of that facility.

Share a coffee with Alphys, that one coworker he’s hardly had problems with.

Get started on work. Restrain those overwhelmingly violent thoughts every time that coworker messes with him—why does he always have to put that stack of papers on the highest shelf there is?

Return home utterly exhausted and on the verge of a breakdown.

Skip dinner for nth time this week. Flop onto his sheets—left just as sloppy as they were this morning. Close his eyes and hopefully succumb to sleep.

Then the cycle starts all over again.

It was tiring. It ate away at him for months. He hit the lowest of lows at some points. He’s grateful he’s had a brother as loving and mindful as Papyrus, otherwise… he isn’t sure what he would’ve done in those times.

When Papyrus came up to him, stating he arrived with magnificent news, Sans wasn’t sure what to expect. It certainly wasn’t Papyrus finding a date. An actual date, and not some twisted bitch who loved toying with every boy around her (oooh, the rage that inevitably ignited Sans’s spite that day was enigmatic). Sans was, of course, supportive of his brother. She was a good one, too. Short, dark-skinned, kind, supportive, and oh-so sweet. She was thoughtful and tended to everyone’s needs within their group of friends. He heard she worked as a local florist, too.

If only he had someone like that…

One day, he received a call from his boss. She was stringent, stuck-up, and every other colorful description available. She berated him through his phone speaker in a tone that criticized everything about him. His appearance, his personality, his efforts, everything. With each insult she spoke in that shrill voice, the harder Sans’s grip became, fingers pressed firm onto his screen.

Even though that irksome horn in the back rang in the setting, Sans chose to ignore it, presuming it was his resentment in the form of sound. He did not know it was a car heading straight toward him.

She saved him.

It took less than a second, too. She saved him without second guessing herself.

Sans was stunned. Breathless with fright. When he stared up at her, he was greeted with authentic concern—when was the last time someone looked at him like that?

He couldn’t even process the words she spoke. He saw her lips moving, though his ears caught no audible sound. It was all ringing. He didn’t even notice how tight his grip on her arms was. She expressed no discomfort or displeasure, all she did was continuously question his health and state of mind.

The only thing that ran through his mind then… was how lovely her eyes were. In her eyes, there was an energy, a life in them he envied. He wanted that. He wanted her to come into his life.

she’s in my life.

holy shit…

she’s here. she’s really here.

As he mulls over his sickeningly sweet thoughts, his hands continue brushing up and down her back, briefly catching on the hem of her tank before passing it to reach the small of her back.

i love her s’much…

she keeps encouraging me no matter how much i hate myself.

she keeps tellin’ me to pursue what i love…

she puts up with my dumb jokes ‘n puns…

hell, luney’s been putting up with me, too…

god, i love her so much…

“Erm-… Sans…?”

A flinch takes over his body, head jerking back in a realization that he’s been caught ogling her for who knows how long. Choosing to ignore how hot his cheeks grow (though he’s painfully aware), Sans attempts to flash June a dry smile, anxiety bubbling in his chest.

oh, shit. what’d i do? …‘sides stare for too long.

did i make her uncomfortable?

she fucking hates my guts now. great job.

“…” Sans blinks, hands settled on her back once more. “…uh, yy-yeah?”

She stares back at him, features lax yet somehow expressing keen interest. Silence hangs in the air for a dreadfully long moment, earning a stifled wheeze from Sans, whose forehead shines beneath the caramel illumination. June blinks, her still expression unchanging until she summons her voice.

“…something’s… poking me.”

Silence.

Cold water rushes down his spine, lungs devoid of any air. Suddenly, his hands are clammy and shake against June’s back, tingles crawling up his legs and stirring the short hairs on the back of his neck. His clothes squeeze him everywhere (which he momentarily finds shocking as most of the clothes he owns are baggy), constricting any movement. Even if he did want to move, he can’t.

Not while he’s under June’s statuesque form.

His eyes are trained on June’s puzzled face, though it can be interpreted he is merely in a hypnotic trance, seeing as how little his eyes blink. An observation crosses his mind when a glint of wit flashes in her rubellite eyes.

It seems, however, his silence is not something she is willing to linger in for too long. A quiet giggle rolls up her throat, flowing from her lips in a delightful stream.

“A-Are you okay? Cat got your tongue?” She sticks the nub of her tongue out, her ears pointed forward in display of her piqued interest.

A bead of sweat travels down his temple, adhering to the swerve of his chin.

“ehhehe… good- good one…” Sans coughs out, lifting a hand to wipe away at his face.

June hums, suddenly abandoning her velutinous pillow—which she found to be quite comfortable—and pulling her lanky form up. Although she is a witness to Sans’s subtle wince, she opts for blissful ignorance. Her long, plump, and fluffy legs sit on either side of Sans’s lap, though her weight scantily hovers above him. She’d hate to make his legs go all numb… as that is what human limbs tend to do apparently.

Her hands lift up to Sans’s round face, cupping his hot and flushed cheeks to tilt his head back.

oh, shit- oh, shit- oh, shit-

she’s right in front of me.

it’s gettin’ too hot in here… or is she doin’ that?

Sans doesn’t know where to look. He can’t look directly up at her, he’d be forced to look into her eyes! That’d reveal all of his deepest, most vulnerable secrets! He can’t look down, that’s where her tits are! Oh, God, how fast his face would glow in the brightest possible shade of red. He feels as though no matter where he looks, he’ll be lured into looking back at those attentive eyes.

His hands hesitate to sit on her thighs, but they rest against her furry exterior regardless. She feels so soft… his thumbs immediately stroke her snowy fur.

“Why is your heart thumping so fast?” June abruptly asks, tilting her head. “Are you… scared?”

sh-she’s not even meant ta hear that!

“nn-no-! i-i’m not… scared…” Sans does not linger on the fact his eyes immediately bat to her face, wide with recognition. “it’s, uh… ww-well…”

“Sans,” she interjects him, squishing his cheeks slightly (she can’t help it, he’s so squishable, she loves it so much). The soft, pink buds on each finger pad press into his skin, though he does not squirm away. “Tell me the truth.”

He gulps, hands ceasing their caressing on her skin.

“…” Her vibrant eyes pull away, sadly glimpsing their pillows. “I know you don’t… really like changing in front of me… much. And I know you get nervous about… holding hands in public, or… o-or showering with… me…” June’s ears fall slightly, hanging over his smooth head. “Do-… do you not… like that I am a monster? Is-… is that why we haven’t really done… an-anything sexual?”

what?

Sans places his hands over June’s, running his prints against her fluffy exterior in subconscious effort at earning her attention.

“no, of course it’s not… ‘cos of that,” he answers, glad to see his words partially relieved her due to the subtle drop in her shoulders. “it’s-… kinda stupid, really.”

June’s rubellite gaze falls back to him again, naturally wide as she observes his features twist and mold into displays of his complex feelings. It’s strange. Monsters are far more blunt with what they feel in the moment. Even if they wanted to be mysterious or obscure, their SOULs were easy to read. Human SOULs… not so much.

She seems to have learned it the hard way.

“i do allat stuff ‘cos… i, erm- i just feel… like ‘m not… good… enough fer you,” he murmurs, lowering his head until his lips turn to the comfort of her palm. “i don’t… feel deservin’ of ya… yer amazing at whatever y’do… i see the way people look at you. they clearly wish they were me. and i- i’m not really… the beefiest guy around, too. ‘m not like your typical gym bro…

“can’t really do the things guys do with their girlfriends… like lift ‘em up when they’re not lookin’ and twirl them around, tellin’ them just how much they love ‘em. i don’t really do much to… show you how much i love you… ‘m not as romantic as those other guys… heh- or even as my brother… bringin’ ya a bouquet of flowers that have some inner meaning, or takin’ ya out to a fancy, open-view dinner with the beach out in the back and lovely beads of jewelry sparklin’ around us.

“sometimes i feel like a… piece of cabbage next to you…”

June stares, allowing silence to accumulate within their spacious living room. Her thumbs tenderly imbue small circles against his spongy cheeks, observing how relaxing it is to cradle his face like this.

Suddenly, a short-lived snort and giggle leaves her lips.

“Pfft- it’s a good thing I love cabbage, then,” she remarks, overlooking his bewilderment no matter how adorable he looks. “Honey,” June croons, leaning close to pepper short yet palpable kisses to his forehead, “mwah- I love you no matter what. Since the day I met you, I’ve always wanted to keep you safe. It doesn’t matter how silly you act sometimes, I still love you! I love that you humans come in all shapes and sizes! It’s so interesting! A-And adorable!

“I don’t care how the other humans and monsters look at me! I only want you to look at me! I love looking at you! And I want you to love looking at yourself, too! I love everything about you, from your shiny head to your cute, little toes! I think the little jokes you make and the little things you get me are so sweet and thoughtful! I don’t mind that you can’t lift me up! I can just lift you up! Makes me wanna squeeze you and put you in my pocket, so I get to have you aaaall to myself!”

Sans stutters when his face is bombarded with various kisses, his face ostensibly hot against her mildly warm lips. He swears he can feel her phantom kisses well after she moves on to a different portion of his face.

A short laugh cuts through his vocal cords, surprising himself.

“Mwah, mwah, mwah! Ugh! You worried me over something that can easily be fixed! Silly, silly little human!” June huffs, her ears righting themselves to sit at a comfortable angle.

“i- i know… ‘m sorry. wh—”

June tilts his head back again, pressing a solid kiss against his lips, ears folding far against her back. Her sensitive nose scrunches slightly, pressed snug against Sans’s round nose. A faint, rosy coloration stretches across her cheeks, her face appearing more… poofy than before.

A light smack fills the room as she pulls away, admiring his flustered appearance with hooded eyes. Her dextrous thumbs roam over his plump cheeks, savoring how soft and warm he is under her. Yes, he’s the only human she wants to hold on to.

“You don’t have to say sorry for being you, silly. It’s okay to feel… well, feelings!” Her giggle is muffled when her lips press another kiss to the bridge of his nose. “I just want you to know you don’t have to be so nervous around me anymore. I want you to feel comfortable with me as I am with you!”

Sans clasps her wrists gently, fingers circling her fur out of instinctive habit. He gazes up at her in awe, entirely unaware of the beads of tears springing in the corners of his eyes until they course down his cheeks.

“Oh! Honey, you’re- you’re crying! A-Are you okay? Am I too much? Do you want me to get off- mmph—?!”

This time, it’s Sans who lures June close until he locks lips with her, swallowing her quiet yelps until she is receptive to his kiss. A pleased hum stirs his vocal cords as June presses herself closer against him, her lips enthusiastically chasing after his, adamant on maintaining their kiss until Sans lightly squeezes her wrists. Understanding his anatomy works differently compared to hers, June pulls away to grant him a breath of air, unable to tear off her wide, goofy smile as she watches her human sigh in relief.

𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝… (1/3)

“damn… i love y’so much, june…” he breathes out, smiling as if he’s in a daze.

“I need you to get on your knees, little lamb,” in a naturally intimidating and sincere voice, Lucifer instructs Sister Destiny on her next move.

“M-My knees?” she repeats, her words coming out slightly incoherent—only such would occur when one has their cheeks squished by a frighteningly tall, supernatural being.

“Yes, your knees,” he answers, lowering his red, gloved hand from Sister Destiny’s cheeks only to trail it over her white bib collar.

Sister Destiny doesn’t expect the tight grip on her wrist to loosen before Lucifer completely releases it, quickly switching her attention to the way he guides both his hands over her shoulders to discard the white collar she wears over her black gown.

His movement fluid, Lucifer sheds the collar from Sister Destiny’s shoulders, disregarding the way it gently flops onto the stone floor. He leaves the novitiate in her black gown, veil, and a silvery crucifix that dangles over her nearly exposed chest if it weren’t for the gown. Lucifer’s black-garnet gaze is intensively fixed on the short woman, his lust evolving into a ravenous hunger the more he imagines the kinds of dirty sins he wants to taint the virtuous woman with.

He’s relatively surprised by the fact she hasn’t taken the chance to flee now that both of his powerful hands have released her, but he’s also—strangely enough—relieved that the sister hasn’t made an attempt to escape.

She has to run. She knows she has to. Even as she stands free of Lucifer’s restraint, she doesn’t budge.

Why… Wh-Why am I not moving? Is it him? Is he doing this?

Sister Destiny peers up at the horned man, brought to confusion as to why she cannot move. Despite the turmoil within her, Sister Destiny is already aware of why she hasn’t taken the chance to flee—deep down, she knows why she won’t leave. The novitiate won’t deny the fact the demon before her is attractive and alluring in both physical attributes and in personality, and not only that, but he could have relinquished her power to make a choice in all, completely disregard her wants and devour her soul as he originally intended…  and yet he left her to choose, even if the options weren’t completely satisfactory.

She finally realizes that she doesn’t want to leave.

Lucifer guides his red, gloved palm up to place it on Sister Destiny’s cheek, staring down at her innocent expression fervently before his hand trails up the side of her head only to settle it on the top of her veiled scalp.

He feels hot. So, so hot. The elaborate and luxurious, high-collared, tailed coat not at all proving to help. The Avatar of Pride doesn’t seem to notice, or may it be that he simply refuses to, but his limbs are trembling. Of course, a human would never notice the quivering in Lucifer’s limbs as they would be the one quivering in fear instead, but never has he felt so consumed with the urge to take from a human that his body would shudder at the thought. Merely fantasizing all these sinful thoughts he has for the wide-eyed, porcelain woman makes the four-winged demon suppress an eager groan, his gloved fingers twitching on the top of Sister Destiny’s head.

The tightness in his sombre pants is unbearable to the Avatar of Pride, begging him to be released and for him to satisfy himself with this unintentionally tantalizing human who has a twinge of unholy curiosity spark in her wide eyes. Just thinking about ruining this gullible sister of the church spurs him on, hand trembling against Sister Destiny’s head as he urges himself to lead her down to her knees.

Not resisting against the dark-haired demon’s guidance—not that she even could—Sister Destiny begins to crouch down until the curves of her knees press on the hardness of the stone floor, sure to grow sore if she sits on her knees for too long. Her black gown rumples around her like ripples in a still mass of stygian. She can feel the warmth of Lucifer’s hand on her veiled head, chancing the opportunity to gently lift her chin so that she may look up at the ominously tall demon.

Her back faces the stained glass installed in the clerestory that distinctly reflects all the tapping noises of the repeated raindrops inside the cathedral. Sister Destiny remains kneeling in front of the four-winged demon, breathing nervously as her curious eyes stare up at Lucifer in all his glory. His wings are as open as they can be, casting large shadows behind his tall figure; his coat tails, which are split into two segments of fabric, nearly brush against the stone floor, and, overall, the Avatar of Pride stands imperiously as if he is sovereign to the kneeling woman.

Sister Destiny realizes how meticulously dressed Lucifer is, admiring the wine-red accents of his lavish coat.

“Unfasten my pants.”

“M-Mmh-?” The novitiate flinches and blinks out of her stupor.

Lucifer clenches his jaw, black-garnet eyes intensely focused on Sister Destiny’s position.

“You will find it reassuring to know that I do not like repeating myself, little lamb. Now, do as you’re told,” he advises through clenched teeth, gloved fingertips mildly pressing on Sister Destiny’s head as an implicit sign of caution to not test his patience.

The feeble novitiate stays kneeling in front of the Avatar of Pride, her tanzanite gaze staring up at him timidly until her breath hitches upon making eye contact with his daunting, black-garnet eyes. Sister Destiny is forced to realize that, at her current position, she is facing the four-winged demon’s crotch, cheeks flaring a bright red hue the moment her wide eyes glimpse down at the two, dangling, golden chains linked from a lavish ornament.

She fears tampering with Lucifer’s already developing impatience and vehemence, hesitant to lift up her petite hands and press them against the firmness of his thighs. The muscles in his thighs briefly tense up underneath her soft, porcelain hands like an impulsive reaction to her touch. Sister Destiny bites the inside of her lips for but a swift moment, reluctantly acknowledging the fact that she must do this, or pay him with the consumption of her soul.

Her hands and fingers tremble evidently, palms trailing up slowly as if she is meaning to tease the already frustrated demon who stifles a hiss through clenched teeth.

She’s consumed with anxiousness, wondering to herself if losing her self-respect would be worth over having her soul devoured. There’s an inner voice, however, that whispers ever so softly in Sister Destiny’s ears. She can hear it convincing her that she will no longer be ambiguously ridiculed for her ignorance of sex by the other novices. She can hear it assuring her that this is the right choice—that any other novitiate, from her perspective, would also make this decision.

Would they?

Before Sister Destiny can even pause to reconsider her decision, the pads of her fingers brush over a firm lump that she can feel through Lucifer’s pants—warmth dwelling beneath her delicate fingers. Her eyes blink abruptly, not expecting to be pulled out of her daze so quickly until she hardly catches the stifled sound of Lucifer’s groan.

The novitiate throws a quick, heuristic look up at the horned man before she fixes her attention back to the evident tent in his sombre pants. She cannot help the rush of heat in her pale cheeks as she gazes at the demon’s crotch, always so accustomed to averting her eyes at any promiscuous body part. Even in her adolescence, Sister Destiny would innately pull her eyes away from exposed skin, feeling a cloud of shame weighing on her back like a heavy coat. Yet, now, she has no other choice but to fulfill the demon’s demand.

With quivering fingers and a timid expression, Sister Destiny’s hands guide themselves further up to the zipper of Lucifer’s pants, remaining uneasy throughout the whole sequence. When she finally feels the brief coldness of the metallic zipper, Sister Destiny reluctantly pinches the small hook and tugs it down. Her ears are keen to the rattling noise the zip makes as she pulls it down, unable to move it any further when it catches onto the end of the link.

Sister Destiny releases a quiet and anxious breath as she unhooks the gold button with a white jewel inserted in the center that keeps Lucifer’s pants fastened. The moment she frees his button and fly, the novitiate trails her hands to the hem of his black and neatly kept boxer briefs.

She’s evidently averse to her following move, uncertainty leaking in her limbs as she nervously gazes up. Her breath quivers when the dark-haired demon tenderly caresses the top of her head, his thumb pressing softly against her scalp as if reassuring her.

“Don’t be so distressed, little lamb,” he starts off, black-garnet eyes admiring her uneasy facial expression as she stares back up at him, “I will not treat you too roughly.”

Whether it is meant to come off as reassuring or as a mild warning, Sister Destiny is uncertain, merely letting out a muted whimper as she returns her attention to the evident bulge under Lucifer’s boxer briefs. What she can see, even with Lucifer’s pants clinging to his hips, is a well-kept trail of dark hair leading down into his underwear. The clothing he wears leaves almost nothing to the imagination as to what he hides—the sheer outline of his cock adjacent to Sister Destiny’s alarmed face.

Even without fully exposing his lower regions, the novitiate knows he is unquestionably large—the contour of his cock palpable beneath the thin fabric of his black boxer briefs that snugly fit his form. She’s inwardly intimidated by the sheer size of this demon’s dick, yet having been reassured that she’d be treated—somewhat—gently, she feels her stress lessen. She recalls hearing one of the other sisters mention her lover asking for a “blowjob”—as she referred to it. According to the other novitiate, she had to use her mouth to pleasure her lover.

M-My mouth-?!

Her eyes briefly widen at the notion, hands pausing at the hem of Lucifer’s boxer briefs. Gradually, her tanzanite eyes travel up the four-winged demon’s lean yet unyielding build. She’s daunted by his expectations, kneeling before him as a virgin, not a veteran in terms of sexual intimacy.

“I-… I-I’m not sure if… i-if it’ll fit,” Sister Destiny squeaks out, porcelain cheeks smoldering with a bright red pigment.

Lucifer, much to Sister Destiny’s hopeful assumption that he’d agree and reconsider going through with this, simply chuckles deeply at her feeble remark. His gloved hand caresses the top of her veiled head, lightly tugging the dark fabric back to expose her bangs, which tenderly fall on the sides of her dainty face.

“If there is a will, there is a way, little lamb,” he murmurs to the short-haired novitiate whose eyes remain wide, staring down at her with amusement present in his very own black-garnet ones. “Carry on.”

M-Mmh…

Sister Destiny anxiously returns her attention back to her task at hand, her trembling breath sharply entering her lungs. She curls her slender fingers into the inside of Lucifer’s boxer briefs, tugging it down, feeling her cheeks rise in heat and her ears burn under her inky-black veil.

Lucifer stands with his black-garnet irises focusing on the visibly timid novitiate, his breathing growing heavy the longer he remains as patient as possibly can be for her. He’s aware of her lack of confidence for initiating such corrupt acts in the first place, but watching her gradually gather up the courage to do as he says spurs him on more than he’d like to admit.

His blood feels like it’s all been rushing down to his firm and throbbing cock, worsening his need to satisfy himself with this naive sister of the church.

In spite of his rampant desire and hunger, Lucifer remains adamant to giving in. It appears as if the demon is explicitly resisting against his carnal desires, feeling awfully tempted to press this fragile human against the stone altar and mercilessly take whatever he needs from her and leave her to be found by the bishops in the morning. This doesn’t fully satisfy Lucifer’s fantasy, however, which is what perplexes him. 

Typically, the four-winged demon would not care enough for his behavior around humans, whether it be that he was aggressive toward them, or that he was simply strict with them and demanded they satisfy his needs lest they want their souls to be mercilessly consumed.

Yet, now, as he witnesses Sister Destiny lightly tug on his underclothes with such an irresistible expression dawning on her fragile face, Lucifer cannot find it in himself to please his more demonic, sadistic self that craves violence and cruelty. He merely decides that he wishes to make this gullible novitiate willingly accept her corruption, force her to realize just how sinful she is deep down after all these years in the pursuit of becoming a full-fledged nun.

The horned man utters out a hiss as his pulsing cock is released from his underwear, the coldness of the cathedral further inciting shivers down his spine. Lucifer’s black-garnet eyes guide themselves down to Sister Destiny’s position, able to observe the surge of authentic surprise flash by in her sweet, previously innocent, tanzanite eyes as she gawks frightfully at his entire length.

Sister Destiny’s heart drops at Lucifer’s size, her breath caught up in her throat from how stunned she is. She feels quivers take over her limbs, but the odd sensation of enticed shivers crawls up her shoulders, her breath sharply entering her lungs. 

The novitiate doesn’t understand what she’s feeling. She’s kneeling down before the Avatar of Pride with her very own insides throbbing. Her breath is quiet by force, trembling with each exhale she lets out. She doesn’t know why her nethers tremble as she admires the massive dick erected before her eyes, having been taught that longing for such desires is a sin; to immediately repent after merely fathoming this corruption.

The demon’s cock is far longer than the average man’s length; girthy with pulsing veins running up from the base that meets with his appealing trail of dark pubes. At his angry red tip, slick pearls of precum ooze out, creeping over the smooth curve of his circumcised head. They give the head of Lucifer’s cock a sheeny appeal, his redness bright and burning with need.

The red shade of Sister Destiny’s cheeks rivals the cock head as it throbs desperately in front of her abashed face. Her tanzanite eyes observe the way the milky beads of pre gradually slide down the flush head, keeping her curiosity of what it may taste like to herself until Lucifer clears his throat insistently.

“M-Mmh?” she finds herself humming out, fixing her gaze up at the dark-haired demon.

“Don’t keep me in anticipation, little lamb,” Lucifer utters out, his voice hoarse, but still equally as intimidating to the short-haired novitiate.

“You-… You want me to-?”

“Please me. Yes,” he interrupts, darkened eyes seemingly glaring down at her, like a ruthless ruler to his meek servant. “Do not test my leniency unless you really want me to devour your precious soul.”

With that being said, Lucifer’s grip on Sister Destiny’s veiled head tightens, his fingers threatening to tug on her exposed bangs and, potentially, pull on her scalp.

“Eek-!”

Sister Destiny’s eyes squeeze shut, lower lip quivering from the raw fear flowing through her fragile, little body. She can hear the urgency in Lucifer’s tone, frightful of what may happen if she tries to resist his demands.

Her eyebrows crease together in hesitation, porcelain eyelids fluttering open only to discover her attention instantly flying to the demon’s erect cock.

Without dragging it out, Sister Destiny leads her petite hands to Lucifer’s pulsing shaft, the base of her palm instantly pressing gently against one of the veins running alongside the underside of his member. Her ears catch on to Lucifer as he releases a stifled hiss, the smallest of groans rumbling in the base of his vocal chords.

Distinctly hesitating for a fleeting moment, Sister Destiny begins to drag her tender grasp up Lucifer’s pulsating dick. Small drops of precum smear between her delicate fingers as they roam up and down the member in a fixed rhythm, making it easier for the novitiate to smoothly pump her hands over the hot girth.

Throughout the repeated sequence, Sister Destiny’s face remains a bright red pigment, her cheeks flaring with shame. Hidden fascination glints in her wide, tanzanite eyes, however, contradicting her attitude in the beginning of this problematic endeavor.

Her hands are soft and petite, appearing twice as small while they wrap around Lucifer’s erect cock. She runs the pads of her thumbs on the underside of his shaft, massaging upwards until she reaches the bottom of his head, feeling the member twitch in her gentle clasp before the grip of her head tightens.

The horned demon releases another hiss, baring his teeth as he momentarily squeezes his eyes shut at the pleasurable sensation overwhelming his needy dick. When the novitiate’s hands would reach the bottom of his head—barely brushing against the sensitivity—his shoulders would stiffen and his breath immediately gets stuck in his throat.

He initially thought the novitiate would prove to be a disappointment to his expectations, yet the way she delicately strokes him fills him with a new surge of relief and satisfaction.

Lucifer’s hips slightly buck, craving more firmness in Sister Destiny’s grip, which seems to catch her off guard. He sharply inhales, eyebrows wrinkled in concentration as he fixes his grip on the top of her veiled head.

Sister Destiny continues to draw her palms across the heated flesh of Lucifer’s firm cock, her hands losing their clasp on him when his hips buck forward unexpectedly. Her eyebrows rise quickly in alarm as her hands unintentionally release his slick shaft, worried that the demon would reprimand her.

She is proven wrong when, suddenly, the tip of Lucifer’s dick nudges against her thin, supple lips—his precum smearing over her softness. Her initial reaction is to flinch back from the abruptness, but the tight grasp on her veil restrains her from moving at all, keeping her lips snug against his heated and pulsing tip.

Lucifer keeps his hold on Sister Destiny’s head firm, black-garnet eyes meeting with her alarmed ones as they gawk up at him—her eyes asking for an explanation.

He simply tilts his chin high while keeping his stern gaze glued to the kneeling novitiate’s worried eyes.

“Open,” Lucifer demands, his tone cruel.

The coldness in his voice makes Sister Destiny want to whimper, frightful of him and his capability.

She can feel his cock head pulse against her lips, the impalpable scent of his pre wafting in her nose. Too intimidated by Lucifer’s harsh voice, Sister Destiny slowly parts her soft lips over the throbbing tip that keeps itself pressed intimately against her, granting him access to her wet mouth where scarce, translucent strings of saliva connect her upper teeth to her lower ones.

Her eyes instinctively squint, feeling the heated tip intrude her wet cavity. The foreign intrusion causes Sister Destiny to briefly flick the tip of her tongue against the cock head, catching the taste of his leaking precum. The novitiate is surprised to know that the taste lingering on her tongue is mildly sweet, the blandness nearly overpowering the sweet tang.

“Mm…”

Lucifer’s brows furrow as he enters Sister Destiny’s mouth little by little, sensing her tongue flick against his sensitive head—likely from the sudden invasion startling her. Regardless, he bites back a deep groan that threatens to leave the depths of his vocal chords, refusing to show any signs of being satisfied by the novitiate so early on.

His black-garnet eyes—glazed with ravenous desire—fall down to the short-haired woman sitting on her knees, able to feel her small hands tremble against his clothed thighs to keep herself in place. Lucifer sees Sister Destiny’s eyes start to water, her jaw struggling to loosen around his enormous cock. He easily spots the wet beads shimmering in the lines of her lids, watching as they slip down her pliant, fair-skinned cheeks.

Sister Destiny’s timid body trembles, jaw already going sore as the demon inserts his dick in her gaping mouth. Her eyes squint in slight pain, feeling trails of tears slide down her cheeks—the wet lines cooling at the occasional draft within the cathedral. In spite of her current struggle, Sister Destiny is surprised to realize Lucifer’s hips have slowed, keeping himself still in her mouth.

She realizes she must’ve made it obvious that she was having a difficult time taking in his cock, unaware of the fact she hasn’t even reached halfway—not that Lucifer thinks she could without reaching the back of her throat. Even then, it wouldn’t fit the entirety of his cock.

Impulsively, Sister Destiny swallows around Lucifer’s cock, meek body quivering at her current conflict. She immediately takes note of how the towering demon lightly groans with his lips sealed, eyes flying up to gaze at his face.

Sister Destiny is greeted with the sight of Lucifer whose eyebrows are wrinkled at the bridge of his nose and his eyes now half lidded as he stares down at her.

“Suck,” he commands her, hand firmly pressing against her veiled head.

Her eyes promptly widen before she drags her attention back to his pelvis with her lips closing around the erection lodged in her mouth. With a reluctant shift, Sister Destiny starts to suckle on Lucifer’s cock, cheeks burning with humiliation at her actions.

As she sucks on the cock, Sister Destiny slowly fixes her gaze back up at Lucifer, testing the waters by pulling her head back, dragging her tight lips around him. She hears him shudder, her own cunt quivering at the stifled groan he releases, her progressive head bopping increasing with hopes of satisfying the Avatar of Pride. It is positively obvious that the novitiate can’t take the entirety of the winged man’s cock in her mouth, and she fixes this dilemma by shyly removing her hands off of his thighs to gently clasp whatever she cannot reach; stroking him with a leisurely pace while sucking the upper half.

Saliva begins to dribble out from the corners of Sister Destiny’s mouth, slipping down over the curvature of her chin until reaching the nadir and finally dripping onto her inky-black gown. The spare sweetness of Lucifer’s precum taints the inside of her moist cavern, coating her taste buds and alluring her despite her virtuous conscience rebuking her for her sinful actions.

I shouldn’t be doing this! This is shameful! Why am I letting this- this demon defile me like this?! I have to repent! I can’t let him dishonor my oath to the Lord!

And, yet, in spite of all her internal protests, Sister Destiny finds herself lowering her lids halfway, her cheeks and ears burning with a discovered eagerness to pleasure Avatar of Pride, Lucifer. Her tanzanite eyes become glossy as she continues to suck up and down on Lucifer’s cock, hands stroking the rest of his shaft until she reaches his pelvis and drags them back up to her soft lips.

“Mm…” she catches herself tenderly moaning around Lucifer’s dick, voice muffled and yet vibrating in her mouth, which makes the four-winged demon groan audibly as he guides her head along him.

Lucifer grits his fang-like teeth together, eyes squinting lightly at the pleasure he feels coursing through his resilient body. He lets out a few groans, gripping the novitiate’s head like a vice, witnessing the way her eyes glimmer in the dull lights of the glowing candles surrounding them.

Feeling Sister Destiny’s lips around his stiff cock makes Lucifer choke for but a moment, eyelids fluttering with a catch. His fingers subconsciously curl on Sister Destiny’s head, her black veil wrinkling under his firm grasp until the demon figures it’s too much of a hindrance.

Without warning, the prideful demon clasps the veil from Sister Destiny’s head and pulls it off with an urgency that can only be described as neediness. He impatiently tosses the veil aside, no longer caring for the pathetic piece of fabric, threading his gloved fingers into her soft, short, white-to-azure hair. Lucifer gets a better grip on Destiny’s head and focuses more of his energy on picking up her speed.

“M-Mmh-!” 

Destiny’s eyes squint harsher than before, lips sliding over his hot member with ease because of her drool increasing with each thrust forward and backward. Her cheeks appear larger than before, still as red as the bright flames burning endlessly in the waxen tunnels sitting on the black, iron candelabras. She can instantly tell her pace has been picked up, especially since her veil’s been abruptly pulled off by the horned man towering over her who curls his fingers through her short locks of hair.

She promptly follows Lucifer’s urging motions, feeling her scalp sting as he tugs on her hair. Destiny whimpers through her nose, her breathing labored the longer she remains sucking on the firm dick sliding easily into her mouth.

In spite of her growing discomfort, the taste of Lucifer intoxicates her little by little, intriguing her to learn more about the ways of sex if it means she won’t be belittled for her lack of knowledge anymore.

“Ah-” the dark-haired demon feels his hips stutter for a brief moment, delving his cock a little deeper into Destiny’s innocent, little mouth.

His eyes are focused on her, seeing the shine of her drool smear all on his dick firing him up.

“What a good little lamb… H-Hah-… sucking my cock so nicely,” Lucifer grunts out, facial expression hardening with great focus.

The praise instantly shoots arousal through Destiny’s petite body, feeling herself grow wetter than before. She continues sucking on the cock that practically pumps itself into her soaking, tightening mouth, her teary eyes fluttering repeatedly, struggling to get a good focus on Lucifer’s tall physique.

T-Tastes-… Tastes s-so, so good…

Destiny’s eyes blink until they remain half lidded, moans resonating from her vocal chords as she increases her own speed to match up with Lucifer’s selfish thrusts. 

Had it been the same novitiate who entered the cathedral, she would feel an unbearable amount of shame dribbling out of her conscience, forced to become aware of the sin that’s always been in her virtuous soul. Now, however, the novitiate’s mind is fogged with desire—a severe appetite for lust igniting within—while her lips drag over the stiff rod pumping itself into her suckling mouth.

Albeit muffled at best, Destiny’s moans reverberate within the cathedral hall; glowing, vermilion flames burning away at the heated wax.

“Mmh-!” Lucifer’s pale face hardens as his lower torso flexes abruptly, feeling his impending climax. He can hardly contain himself when the not-so-innocent novitiate before him keeps stroking his dick with her lips wrapping around him, sucking like a greedy leech on his sensitive areas.

He’s close. Very close.

The demon’s wings flutter with vigor behind his back, stretching out only for his hidden muscles to stiffen beneath the dark plumage. They rustle continuously, nearly able to stifle Destiny’s soft and mumbled moans.

His shoulders start to cave in, his pace growing more and more impatient, starving for his imminent release. The thought of cumming in Destiny’s mouth flashes by in Lucifer’s head, further inciting his fantasies and earning him a guttural growl under his breath, hand tightening around Destiny’s head.

Destiny can sense that the horned man’s pace has heavily increased, nearly overwhelming her as her jaw aches terribly with each stroke her mouth achieves. She finds herself struggling to breathe, salty tears uncontrollably sliding down her fair cheeks. In the midst of the merely one-sided passion, Destiny lets out a distressed whine, mouth full of Lucifer’s cock.

“M-Mmph-!”

He hisses sharply, pace not letting up. “Yes… h-hah-… y-yes-… agh-”

Destiny cannot fight back against his forceful movement, eyes merely shutting themselves as her hands struggle to continue pumping his shaft with all the intense filling of her mouth. Her ears catch on the sounds of Lucifer’s desperate pants, hearing the slightest chokes in his voice as he thrusts himself into her slobbery cavern.

Lucifer’s balls clench tightly, the brief indication of his impending orgasm that has him groaning more audibly than last time. His eyes shut themselves tightly, focusing, now, on the feeling of Destiny’s delicious mouth wrapped so nicely around his dick, driving his hips deeply in her direction.

His wings abruptly shudder, the rest of the demonic being’s body flinching harshly. Lucifer’s eyebrows wrinkle suddenly as he feels himself stiffen up and firmly press Destiny’s head closer to his base.

“Hck-!” Lucifer chokes out, keeping most of his firm rod burrowed in the human’s mouth. His sharp teeth tightly grind against each other, releasing his cum in the unsuspecting novitiate’s mouth with a heavy exhale following after.

“M-Mm-?!”

Destiny’s head is harshly pushed forward, forcing more of Lucifer’s cock into her mouth when her jaw already endeavors an abundance of sores and aches she didn’t know she could experience. Her tanzanite eyes widen; loads of a warm, thick substance gushing out from Lucifer’s dick and into her mouth, coating her tongue and overwhelming her taste buds.

It tastes mildly salty, at best, but Destiny doesn’t find the tang unbearable. What really throws her off is the texture: gooey, heavy, and mildly hot. Her cheeks bloat from the fullness, hardly able to contain all of the demon’s load without potentially letting some of it dribble out of the corners of her lips

Lucifer’s cum idles in Destiny’s mouth, not yet swallowed nor spat out, but causing her a hassle to keep it all contained.

Destiny’s lips slightly open themselves wider, feeling the ridges and pulsing veins of Lucifer’s dick as it pulls out. Her breath quivers as she exhales through her nose, not wanting to risk having drops of semen slip out.

“Hm?” Lucifer fixes his black-garnet eyes down to Destiny’s swollen cheeks, secretly admiring the pretty red tint dusted across her paleness. He pants ever so lightly, keeping his convulsion discreet.

Her eyebrows are creased at the bridge of her nose, displaying her great worry for spilling the cum in her mouth without a trace of immediate humiliation—merely revealed to be keeping her hands lifted at the height of her shoulders and slightly waving them out of distress. 

He lowers his red, leather gloved hand, carefully cupping her stuffed cheek. Lucifer tests the fullness of Destiny’s mouth by tenderly pressing the flat of his gloved thumb against her soft cheek, earning a startling whine from the white-to-azure-haired woman. He can see the teary glisten in her eyes, noticing a few driblets of his milky-white cum leaking out of her puckered lips.

Lucifer can hardly keep himself together at the sinful sight displayed so openly before him. He lets out a strained gasp, arousal, once again, surging through his powerful body and breathing life into his hanging cock that leaks of extra semen.

“My… and I didn’t even tell you to keep it in,” he comments, nearly mocking her in a way.

He can see a variety of emotions burn in Destiny’s wide eyes, able to decipher practically each individual thought that flies through her gorgeous mind. It’s as if she’s been pulled out of her lustful indulgence, the realization of her actions hitting her far harder than she likes. Lucifer, however, feels the corners of his lips twitch up into a dark grin.

“What a fruitful little lamb you are. Show me,” Lucifer speaks out, tilting her chin higher to face him.

Destiny winces as her chin is pulled up, peering up at Lucifer’s piercing eyes with her reddened cheeks still stuffed of his load. She hears him demand her to open her bloated mouth, nearly inclined to refuse because of the wavering risk that she may accidentally drop some of it on herself. Perhaps that’s what he’s looking forward to.

Uncertainly, Destiny parts her lips, exposing the inside of her mouth for Lucifer to admire. Her ears heat up with embarrassment, gawking up at the dark-haired demon who hums studiously, feeling herself tremble on her knees while the demon keeps his hand gripping her chin firmly.

Lucifer can clearly see his cum filling Destiny’s gaping mouth, tempted to order her to stick her tongue out so that he may witness his load fall and stain her black clothing. He refrains from doing so and, instead, watches a few milky droplets trickle from the borders of her lips, gradually slipping down until they reach his red, gloved hand.

He’s deathly silent as he wipes the cum on Destiny’s chin off with his hand, forcing his thumb into her mouth to feel the thick consistency inside.

“Mm-!” Destiny hums out of alarm, eyes growing large at the gloved finger intruding her cum-stuffed mouth.

“Swallow,” Lucifer orders, not daring to tear his gaze away from her startled expression. In fact, he keeps his attention on her lips, watching them compulsively wrap around his thumb. He swishes his thumb inside Destiny’s glutted mouth, partially able to feel the viscous semen swirling around his digit as well as her probing tongue which pokes at the intruder.

With a bit of a struggle, Destiny does her best to swallow the horned man’s load, trying to keep most of it in her mouth. The thick consistency slides down her throat, but with Lucifer’s thumb invading past her lips and toying with the inside of her mouth, she finds it slightly more difficult to swallow all of his cum that eventually leaks out in small drops. With the faint taste of Lucifer’s semen lasting on Destiny’s tongue, she quietly whimpers and stares up at the four-winged demon.

“Mm… well done, little lamb,” he approves, humming deeply with lust further building in his chest. He eyes the miniscule droplets of his viscid, milky-white cum spilling out of the corners of Destiny’s tender lips, withdrawing his gloved thumb from her mouth to swipe them away.

Destiny’s eyes briefly squint at Lucifer’s rather intimate gesture of wiping her face somewhat cleaner than before, reopening them when he recoils his red, leather gloved hand away.

She hesitates to speak for a moment, lips parting, yet, not a word slips out.

After a few seconds of regaining her nerves, Destiny separates her lips again.

“I-I did what you asked. Will-… Will you let me go now?” she asks the demon, worried eyes staring up at him expectantly. 

She—ironically—prays that she’s managed to satisfy the horned man’s needs well enough to have earned her right to leave without any further damage. Destiny is brought to dread, however, when she hears Lucifer chuckle deeply at her words as if they were part of a running gag. Her tanzanite eyes widen as she discovers herself to be gawking up at the malicious sneer on Lucifer’s pale face.

“Oh, no, no, no, little lamb,” he purrs out in a taunting voice, forcibly clasping the novitiate’s petite wrists and effortlessly pulling her up from her aching knees. He hears the feeble squeak of fright slip past Destiny’s soft lips as she falls upon his firm body, calmly placing the both of his gloved palms on her pliant cheeks to direct her utmost attention on him. “You didn’t think we’d leave it at that, did you?” Lucifer smirks down at her wide-eyed expression.

“Wh-What?”

“I did promise I’d take your virginity, didn’t I?”

Destiny whimpers quietly as Lucifer nears her face, forced to stare up into his black-garnet eyes that are brimming with desire. She tries to pull herself back from Lucifer’s, somewhat, firm grip, startled to find out that, while he does release her face, he automatically grasps her wrists.

He begins to walk close to her, which causes the white-to-azure-haired woman to step back, gown waving at her abrupt movement. With each step he takes forward, Destiny takes one backward, unknowingly letting him guide her to the altar where a Holy Bible sits directly in the middle along with a small plate of bread and a little glass of wine—likely to be grape juice that’s gone bad, instead.

“Eep-!” Destiny squeaks out, not predicting Lucifer to grab both of her wrists with one hand while his arm swipes the white book with a golden cross etched in the middle along with the bread and wine off of the altar, listening to all of the Holy objects clatter on the floor and echoing loudly in the cathedral. “Wh-What are you-”

She can hardly get a word in when the four-winged demon turns her around without warning, startling her when he presses his chest against her back and pins her to the altar with his hands pressing over the back of hers.

Lucifer can feel Destiny’s visibly smaller body tremble beneath his, his breath hovering over the shell of her ear. He leans closer to her, chest pressing on her quivering back before he unites her wrists under one, red, gloved hand. With his free hand, he slithers up Destiny’s arm, wrinkling the dark fabric before he follows the curve on her bicep, eventually leading his hand to her chest.

The Avatar of Pride hears both the metallic jingle of her crucifix and her mild whimpers as he glides his palm over one of her clothed breasts. He’s able to feel her taut nipple through the inky-black fabric, teasing her body by gently circling the nub before he pinches it mildly. He grins to himself upon inciting a mewl from the novitiate below him, pleased to know just how easy it is to manipulate her bliss and keep her in his domineering control.

H-He’s touching me-! I-I can’t do anything-!

Destiny tenderly whines under Lucifer’s weight, wrists squirming in his tight clasp which remains unyielding no matter how much she struggles. She can feel his hand roaming over her trembling chest, feeling humiliated that he can easily manipulate her body like it’s child’s play. With a light pinch to her nipple, she mewls and nearly bucks into his touch; with a gentle rub around her bud, she’s whimpering softly and writhing in his hold, uncertain of whether she wants more, or if she wants him to stop.

“What a sensitive little thing you are… and we’ve barely gotten to the fun part,” Lucifer hums, pressing his lips up to the sliver of space behind Destiny’s ear.

“M-Mh-”

Destiny hesitantly lifts her head after previously trying to hide her shame by concealing her face into her extended arms, cheeks a delicious red hue while her eyes appear glossy.

“It’s almost as if you don’t even know what your body wants. I can help you with that,” murmurs Lucifer whose hand slowly slides down Destiny’s waist, savoring the feel of her delicate body even with his glove slipped on.

“Wh-What are you-”

“Shh- a good little lamb would know to speak only when spoken to. Don’t fret, I can take care of your needs… that sinful fire within you,” Lucifer mutters, his lips caressing the nape of Destiny’s neck.

Destiny breathes in sharply when she senses her flowy gown being tugged up, exposing her leg at a noticeable pace. Her vulnerable legs are littered with shivers, the smallest shudder leaving her lips like an obedient prayer. The chilly atmosphere of the cathedral rises higher and higher on the exposed flesh of Destiny’s legs, forcing her to acknowledge, now, that her dress has been pulled up to her hips—clothed crotch exposed between the altar and Lucifer.

The demon is hasty to slip his gloved palm beneath the dress, allowing the extra fabric to drape over his wrist like a curtain, casting the faintest of shadows on the stone floor. With her clothed nethers exposed to the cathedral ambience, Lucifer swears he could smell her arousal from the apse of the interior, suppressing a hungry groan himself by humming deeply into the back of Destiny’s head.

He hovers his gloved hand near Destiny’s cunt, able to feel her warmth even through her panties and his own glove. Craving more of the sensation, Lucifer tenderly cups her leaking mound, an intrigued hum rumbling in his throat.

“It seems our innocent little nun isn’t as innocent as she appears,” the horned man teases, his nimble fingers ever so lightly circling on the covered opening of Destiny’s genitals.

“N-No-!” Destiny whimpers out, squeezing her eyes tightly as her hips jerk away from Lucifer’s taunting fingers. “I-… I’m not-”

“Mm-?” 

Lucifer winces for a brief moment, not seemingly expecting the novitiate to, without warning, snap her crotch away. He is, however, further engrossed in Destiny’s resolve, more eager to break her will down and taint her in the most delightful and corrupt ways he knows she’ll love. And when he’s finished having his fun, he’ll build her back up again, giving her that hope of being a virtuous, little nun again, only to break her down once more. The satisfaction of manipulating her faith keeps Lucifer deeply fascinated, enthusiastic to see what else he could do to this naive sister, so that she may come to terms with the sin infested inside of her.

He gently presses his own hips against Destiny’s, returning his palm back to her heated mound which earns him a reluctant whine, enticing him to do more.

“I told you I wouldn’t treat you roughly, little lamb. Do you really doubt my words?” he queries, lips kissing the shell of her reddened ear. “Entrust yourself to me, and I can guarantee you pleasure at its highest ascent. I will be there alongside you, my little lamb.”

These strangely sentimental words ring within Destiny’s mind, enrapturing her steadfast will of faith to ease itself and let go of the coldness that sears her curiosity of the world of sensation. She hears his rather soothing voice speak intimately in her ear, capturing her breath in a nearly delighted clasp.

Her legs quiver at the sensation of Lucifer’s hand returning to her aroused nethers, a whimper breaking through her vocal chords as his fingers softly tease her soaking lips through her underwear. Uncontrollably, the white-to-azure-haired novitiate jerks her hips into Lucifer’s hand, a quiet and needy whine vibrating in her throat.

“P-… Please-…” weakly cries Destiny, who lowers her head with a red hue burning across her cheeks.

Lucifer’s tantalizing motions halt on Destiny’s sensitive mound, keeping his hand as still as stone over her drenched panties.

“Hmm? Go on, little lamb, use your words,” croons out the Avatar of Pride, an ambitious smirk crossing his lips.

Destiny Calyx whines softly beneath Avatar of Pride’s—Lucifer’s—weight, her petite hips twitching in his palm’s direction. She’s slowly unraveling under his touch, coming to terms with her desire to feel lust in its raw, carnal form.

He promised he’d take care of her. He said he’d treat her nicely. He guaranteed her a sensation of pure delight that would relieve her of this frigidness the life of a novitiate has brought her.

She wants to feel what he’s been offering—lustful sin.

“P-Please… touch me…” she mewls out in a delicate and fragile voice, petite body quivering with need.

Lucifer’s smirk widens from the corners of his lips, a dark glint of arousal evident in his black-garnet eyes.

“Good little lamb…” he utters out, gradually lifting the hand he does not use to pin Destiny’s wrists down to his mouth.

The demon opens his lips, sharp teeth biting down on the paltry edge of the red, leather fabric, only for him to pull his hand out from his accessory. He nonchalantly spits out the red, leather glove, hearing the muffled flop against the stone floor before repeating the process to his other hand while seizing Destiny’s small wrists with his now-bare palm.

Destiny feels Lucifer return to his original position, now trailing his bare and warm hand up on the front of her leg, ultimately pulling her swishing garment along with it. She burrows her face between her outstretched arms, eyelids squeezing shut as her legs tremble from the cold once again.

Her breath comes out shaky, biting the inside of her lip at the discernment of Lucifer’s hand slipping in the band of her panties. Destiny knows her legs tremble, uncertain of whether it’s because of the anticipation, or the trifling fear of experiencing discomfort. Her panties slowly begin to slip off from her hips, a tiny mewl vibrating in her small throat as a sheer string of her arousal stretches between the cloth and her clenching cunt. The instant the viscous and shiny thread snaps her thighs instinctively press against each other until the soaked fabric slides down to her ankles.

She feels unbelievably exposed, reluctantly whimpering at the crisp draft that travels within the ominous cathedral, effectively causing her sopping cunt to squeeze around nothing.

“E-Eep-!”

Destiny’s eyes bat open in the darkness of her arms when she feels a warm hand press against her bare vulva, unable to predict the demon’s next moves. She struggles deeply to not squirm in Lucifer’s hold as he slips a heated digit in between her aroused folds, languidly moving around her fluttering hole and teasing the aching clit hidden beneath its hood.

“A-Ah-! Mm-…”

She shuts her eyes again, unknowingly circling her hips into the fingers that stimulate her sensitive folds. Her breath falls short the moment Lucifer expertly tugs her clitoral hood open, middle digit delicately rubbing against the tender pleasure point hidden inside, causing the novitiate to moan desirably.

Lucifer’s eyes are hooded as he dexterously plays with Destiny’s quivering cunt, able to feel the way she trembles beneath him and hear the nearly-muted sounds of her clenching around nothingness, her arousal dripping on the tips of his fingers. He continues his mild torment on the novitiate’s clit, intently listening to the way she whimpers with a crack in her needy voice, worsening his allure for her.

“You mewl so charmingly for me, my little lamb. Perhaps, we’ll need to work together to compensate for the way you nicely sucked my cock earlier,” he coos.

Releasing one of her wrists, Lucifer guides her trembling hand back to her own cunt, making sure to shield the back of her palm with his. Their fingers slightly interlace, both hovering over Destiny’s soaking pussy.

“There you are…” Lucifer gingerly hums, manipulating both his and Destiny’s fingers to circle her fluttering hole.

“M-Mm-…” Destiny faintly moans out, the side of her face pressing against the frigid surface of the altar as she feels her slick arousal drip over her and Lucifer’s fingers.

The horned man pecks the crook of Destiny’s neck while leading his fingers and Destiny’s to her cunt, teasing her circle before he slowly begins to push in Destiny’s middle and ring finger in—his own following after.

“M-Mmh-! Ah-! L-Lu-” Destiny stifles out, eyebrows wrinkling at the bridge of her slim nose, a tear already slipping down her temple pressed firmly against the altar.

He’s slow and steady throughout the entire process, allowing her to grow accustomed to the size of not only his fingers, but hers included as well. Lucifer’s ears are keen to the wet sounds of their united fingers easily sliding in and out, the softest groan of satisfaction rumbling in the gulfs of his throat.

Both the demon and the indecent novitiate can feel the way her hot and squishy walls clench desirably around their coupled fingers, both releasing a soft sound of pleasure at the addicting sensation.

Destiny’s cheeks are hot red, her eyebrows furrowing in tight wrinkles as she gingerly whimpers under the distinct weight of Lucifer. She gasps softly, unable to predict Lucifer curling his fingers over hers as they stroke her insides—running all four fingers along her g-spot so skillfully it brings her to tears almost immediately.

“A-Ah-! Mmm… Lu-Lucifer… e-eh-!”

Her body flinches, an uncontrollable gasp slipping through her lips the moment Lucifer picks up their speed, his adept fingers pressing more firmly on her g-spot—stimulating her like an instrument. She moans desperately, her entirety quivering from the insatiable pleasure and arousal coursing through her pious body.

Lucifer remains, somewhat, quiet, centralizing himself on the sensation of his drenched fingers—united with Destiny’s—sinking deeply into her tightness only to drag them out slowly, allowing her to feel every ridge on their digits. He burrows the lower half of his pale face into Destiny’s shoulder, resting the span of his chest on her trembling back while keeping her snugly pressed against him.

He can feel every flutter, every throb, every tight squeeze around his fingers as well as the shakiness in Destiny’s as they thrust into her cunt in alignment. Each little moan and gentle shudder that slips through Destiny’s soft lips only spurring him on, unknowingly groaning faintly on the pliant flesh of her shoulder.

“So good for me, little one. So, so good for me…” mumbles gently the four-winged demon.

The murmurs of praise and the continuous pecks against her angelic skin bring Destiny weak to her knees, moans growing in volume, which perceptibly echo within the spacious cathedral; not a soul in sight to witness this act of carnal sin being committed upon the Holy altar.

Her legs tremble, hips snapping into Lucifer’s and her own palms, desperate for the friction she didn’t even know she’s been yearning for. Clenching around the stimulant thrusting up inside of her, Destiny whines lightly, thighs pressing together. The longer Lucifer’s and her digits fill her snug cunt, the hotter she begins to feel; a pleasurable cramp building in the depths of her nethers.

Lucifer is keen to the increase of moans and whimpers Destiny openly leaks out of her pretty lips, his thumb pressing over her vulnerable clit to play with her sensitivity. He is satiated by Destiny’s higher-pitched whines, pressing deep into her leaking cunt with resolution. Eagerly, he listens to the saturated sounds of Destiny’s fluttering pussy, reveling in the way she gasps softly and squeezes her walls around their fingers moving in unison.

“M-Mmh-! Haah- I-… I-I’m hot-! N-Ngh-!” Destiny mewls out, squirming deliciously in Lucifer’s hold.

Her breathing grows heavy, mouth gaping wide at the irresistible sensation of their partnered fingers thrusting up into her soppy folds, arousal slipping down the lengths of their digits and smearing all over their palms and her inner thighs.

“You feel it? The calidity churning inside of you?” Lucifer hums, perpetually guiding Destiny’s and his fingers deep into her trembling and pulsing cunt.

“M-Mhm!” Destiny almost frantically nods. “P-Please-!” she whines out, tears slipping over the faint curve of her nose before plopping down on the altar silently.

“Mm,” aptly hums Lucifer, black-garnet eyes glazed by the ravenous desire for this alluring novitiate.

The arm that keeps Destiny’s remaining hand pinned to the altar curls in towards Destiny, wrapping around her torso to draw her closer to his menacing body. His fluid movements do not cease in Destiny’s pussy, running his fingers over her g-spot to which he’s gifted with a louder moan and sob—listening to the way her meek voice reverberates within the interior of the cathedral along with the sounds of their feet shuffling and heavy breathing.

In the split second that Destiny’s cunt tightly squeezes around their fingers and her breath hitching in her throat, Lucifer rubs a harsher loop on her sensitive clit.

“Cum,” he orders her, tone dark and heavy with lust.

Without needing to be told twice, Destiny’s hips give one last twitch to further stimulate herself. She stills beneath him for a split second until she’s discovered to be quivering tremendously, mouth gaping wide open, but not letting out a sound. Her eyes are squeezed tightly shut, thighs pressing against one another—trapping her and Lucifer’s hand on her sopping nethers.

The novitiate’s velvety walls clasp around the four digits thrusted inside, a warm wetness sliding down the curves of their fingers, gradually pooling in their palms.

Destiny presses the side of her face into the altar, sobbing at the overwhelming pleasure she’s overcome with. Finally, her voice breaks out in repeated breaths and broken moans, reverberating against the statuesque walls of the cathedral.

“Ah-! Hahh- aah- ah-!” she breathes out, cunt squeezing her and Lucifer’s digits like a vice.

Tears slip over the brink of her nose, dripping onto the stone altar beneath her head, and gradually begin to pool on the underside of her temple. She pants repeatedly, attempting to catch her breath that was so abruptly stolen from her lungs throughout her orgasm.

The dark-haired demon can feel her trembling beneath his weight, his arm eventually slipping away from her torso and tenderly guiding his hand to her resting head where he brushes her ruffled strands of white-to-azure hair away from her face in a delicate manner. His black garnet gaze remains glued to the side of her exposed face, admiring the shine her tears give off in the dim cathedral hall.

Lucifer unexpectedly leans down, careful as to not shift his hand still pressed against Destiny’s quivering cunt. With his breath delicately ghosting the exposed side of Destiny’s hot face, Lucifer’s eyelids slowly shut as he tenderly presses a kiss to her temple. Keeping his delight in Destiny’s soft and quiet whimpers subtle, Lucifer hums against her hot skin, pulling his lips away for but a moment.

“Mm… you did so well for me, my love.” He presses yet another peck on the side of her forehead. “So well for me…”

Lucifer peppers numerous kisses over Destiny’s soft and dainty skin, others lingering more than a few.

“I’ve got you now, my love… do not worry…” Lucifer gently embraces her from behind using one arm, burrowing his face close to Destiny’s jaw. “You’re safe,” he murmurs in a loving whisper, pressing more delicate kisses on her sensitive flesh.

“M-Mm…” Destiny whimpers softly, eyebrows pinching together in an anxious wrinkle before she slowly begins to relax within Lucifer’s protective hold.

Her rapid heart rate gradually begins to slow, feeling safe when embraced by her lover’s arms. She exhales with a hint of relief and satisfaction, melting by the fond affection she’s being given.

“Are you alright, my love? I was not too rough on you, was I?” She hears him ask.

Destiny does not respond right away, simply trying to recollect her scattered thoughts after experiencing such a powerful climax. She does, however, release a satisfied yet tired sigh, barely able to shake her head to answer Lucifer.

“N-… No…” she quietly mumbles, slowly pulling her lids open—doing her hardest to clearly see through the layer of tears.

Lucifer softly releases his own sigh of relief, quick to press another lingering kiss on her temple.

“I’m relieved to hear,” he gently chuckles.

Lucifer feels Destiny briefly stiffen under him, now growing aware of the united fingers that still remain delved deep in her sensitive cunt. He trails a few more soft kisses from her temple to her ear.

“I’m going to pull our fingers out. Are you ready, my love?” he asks her, refusing to move unless she answers him.

“M-Mmhm…”

The white-haired woman nods to him as best as she can even while keeping her head pressed against the stone altar, eyes fluttering shut by reflex.

She quietly moans and whimpers as her digits, along with his, begin to slip out from her drenching hole, feeling herself instinctively tighten around nothing. Destiny’s body is left in nothing but heavy quivers, dealing with the aftershocks of her orgasm even now.

“Mm… you did wonderfully, my love.” Lucifer murmurs out, pressing another loving kiss onto her flushed cheek; the tang of her tears faint on his tongue. Keeping his lips gently settled on her soft skin, Lucifer softly mumbles out: “I love you…”

Destiny, even in the midst of handling her ruined self, does her best to smile at the earnest words. She cannot do a single thing to ignore her rapid heart beats, but it feels different this time. It feels… warm.

“I-… I love you, too… L-Lucifer,” Destiny replies, finally peeling her eyes open so that she can gaze back up to exchange a soft look with the dark-haired demon.

Lucifer’s brows briefly furrow, mainly out of his own sense of being flustered, but he pushes his humiliation away by standing tall, releasing Destiny’s hand.

“I suppose we should clean up before we head home, hm?”

Destiny softly laughs, feeling her gown fall back to the floor—her legs no longer feeling frigid from the occasional draft in the cathedral. She nods weakly.

“Mm,” hums she in agreement. “Let’s go home…”

“What an amusing, little human you are…”

She flinches out of terror, eyes perilously searching for the source of the sinister voice. Sister Destiny gasps unexpectedly when she spots movement in her peripheral vision, the contour of an outrageously tall man catching her attention as he grimly steps through the abyss of darkness to enter the hazy light.

The dull vermilion glow of the various candles wavers around the outline of the stranger’s supernatural body. Defining his sharp, triangular jawline, the crisp rims of his mesmerizingly dark wings, and shimmering off of his curled horns that emerge from the sides of his dark-haired head. Standing before Sister Destiny is a fearsome man possessing four, raven-colored, feathered wings and menacing horns that sprout from his head and curl forward; a prominent, black, diamond mark plastered on the center of his forehead.

Naturally, Sister Destiny stumbles back, putting distance between herself and this unearthly stranger—no—entity. She gulps and instinctively swats her hand down to the rosary beads that hang off her rope belt. The nun stares in horror, hurriedly inspecting this supernatural being only for her gaze to glue itself to the two pairs of wings he owns, watching as they flutter the moment she focuses on them. She’s seen this man before amongst pages out of a traditional exorcists’ book, the illustration of his wicked, four wings—that were previously six—and his elliptical horns glued in her mind as it displayed the image of this entity gruesomely pulling a soul from his victim’s body.

Lucifer was the name written in unmistakably bold letters.

As this realization dawns on Sister Destiny, her hand falters over the rosary beads that tenderly rattle from the subtle movement.

“I’m glad you, at least, recognize who I am,” he speaks up, black-garnet eyes gleaming with a malevolent shine.

“Y-You-… You can’t be…” breathes out the nun who trembles while stepping back.

“Oh, but I am, little lamb,” uttering out the words with a wicked grin, Lucifer starts to tread further out from the shadows, making it apparent that he intends to stalk her down.

Sister Destiny sharply inhales, desperately turning around and hoping to flee from the apse of the cathedral. Her faith in escaping is easily crushed when a painfully strong grip wraps around her bare wrist, restraining her from leaving the apse. The strength in his mere fingers as they curl around her wrist is enough to make Sister Destiny whimper fearfully, her pulse rising.

“I can’t have you leaving just yet. I haven’t even gotten to the part where I devour your soul,” his menacing voice taunts her, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“M-My soul?”

“Indeed. Your soul,” he answers, eyes darkening upon meeting with her terror-stricken ones. “It’s—by far—one of the purest I’ve ever come across.”

Sister Destiny pathetically tugs at her seized arm, her voice slipping past her lips in a thread of frightened whines and whimpers.

“N-No, please! You can’t-!” Laments the small woman, her auroral eyes glistening with a layer of tears that tease the borders of her eyelids.

Lucifer’s gloved hold on her delicate wrist tightens, pulling her closer to him despite her struggle against him. He stares down at the teary-eyed woman, amused by her pleads and desperate cries of resistance. It’s been ages since he’s found a soul worth tormenting before devouring it, always disappointed by the performances his previous victims exhibited: unintelligible babbling, continuous wet pleadings, repeated ‘Nos’ or ‘Pleases’ that would only aggravate him, and the rare occasions of his victims fainting the second they spotted him—those were rather entertaining.

Still, the current performance he’s been blessed to witness keeps him enthralled; having this fragile, pure, and unintentionally bewitching woman right in his hands enticing him even further. Even so, it’s been awhile since…

“Oh? Why not, little lamb?” he inquires, leaning down to nearly invade her personal space.

Sister Destiny’s breath hitches, not expecting the demon to get so close to her without warning her—regardless, she doubts he would’ve. Her eyelids flutter, glossy, wet lashes batting against her cheeks as she looks up at his intimidating face.

“I-… I’m still a novitiate! I haven’t finished my journey in becoming a-a full-fledged nun! Please, don’t hurt me!” she begs Lucifer, a tear slipping down her porcelain cheek and shining in the dim glow of the surrounding candles.

His grip scarcely loosens.

“A novitiate, you say?” Lucifer’s naturally bitter eyes shine, either from the intrigue or the hazy flames swaying in all the lit candles, it remains unclear. “How stirring,” he teases her, wickedly grinning.

Lucifer takes a deep breath, sighing as if it’s second-nature to him—which it, ironically, is after living in a household full of six troublesome brothers—and fixes his gaze back onto the woman whose cheeks are stained with one or two salty, wet trails. His red, leather gloved hand that does not tightly clasp Sister Destiny’s wrist reaches out to her porcelain face, ignoring the way she flinches upon meeting her supple cheek with his palm. As he caresses her cheek with an uncharacteristic softness, he swipes the broadness of his thumb across her skin, effectively wiping her tears and neglecting the way she gawks up at him with bewilderment.

Such pliant flesh… His previously rounded eyelids lower themselves, drawing a line across his iris.

Sister Destiny stands in front of Lucifer with agape eyes, staring up at him as if he is God Himself in the flesh. However, she finds herself progressively relaxing in his tender hold as peculiar as it may be. She feels him wipe away her tears, stretching her unblemished skin ever so lightly until the leather of his glove withdraws itself from her. Part of her aches for him to keep it there, but the thought quickly vanishes.

“What else do you have to offer, then, little lamb? Something as valuable as that priceless soul of yours.”

“M-Mmh?” Sister Destiny blinks, not expecting him to speak out of the blue.

Lucifer chuckles in an almost bitter tone, “I can’t just let you go without getting something offered in return. If not your soul, then any other valuable of yours can suffice for now,” he suggests, black-garnet eyes reflecting the vermilion hue of the candles around them.

“I-… I don’t have any money, o-or-”

“Your body should meet the requirement.”

She stutters for a moment, cheeks uncontrollably flushing, “Exc-Excuse me?”

Lucifer, unlike the flustered novitiate, solemnly gazes down at her, eyebrows remaining neutral while his grip is firm around her wrist. His appearance alludes sternness, but his mind is clouded with a raging hunger that could rival his second youngest brother’s gluttony. 

Typically a prideful one—as his title suggests—Lucifer could never find himself succumbing to lust, especially for an inferior human as they all were relatively the same—both in habit and in spirit. This certain human, however, is unmistakably different, and he knew it the instant he saw her entering the cathedral. From her virtuous soul that gleams like the brightest and most polished of jewels—which would most certainly catch the eye of his excessively greedy, sixth youngest brother—to her intoxicatingly innocent eyes that practically beg to be tainted with sin, it is clear to Lucifer, Avatar of Pride, that this human isn’t like the other dull ones he’s come across in his devastatingly long life.

His gaze darkens lustfully, fingers that tightly wrap themselves around Sister Destiny’s wrist massaging her exposed skin by firmly pressing into it.

“You’re still a virgin, correct?” the demon inquires.

“W-Wait, you’re going to-”

“Take it, yes,” he interjects, pulling her closer while listening to her yelp in a helpless tone.

Sister Destiny, even if she uses all of the strength she can muster, stands no chance against resisting Lucifer’s firm grasp that tugs her toward him. She yelps, albeit feebly, discovering herself to be pressed stiffly against Lucifer’s chest, eyes batting up at him in brief awe. The petite woman, who stands at a devastatingly short height compared to the demon of pride, feels a warm and strong hand settling on the back of her waist, breath cutting off when his thumb massages a firm circle near the front of her gut.

Wh-What’s he doing? He’s touching me! He-… He shouldn’t be touching me!

Sister Destiny squirms in his hold, tenderly mewling while she presses her liberated palm against his chest, pushing on his ribs that are covered by a layer of black fabric with golden buttons, keeping his waistcoat closed.

“Wait! P-Please, let me go! I can’t do this!” pleads the novitiate, squirming and resisting against the undoubtedly more powerful demon who merely gazes down at her with amusement.

No, no, no, no! I-I’m unmarried! I can’t go through with this! Sister Destiny’s tanzanite eyes begin tearing up once again, the fear of having her purity stripped from her by this foul being mortifying her.

“I’m afraid you only have two options, little lamb. Your body, or your soul,” Lucifer utters precariously, leaning over Sister Destiny with his black-garnet eyes darkening. He stares down at the frightful woman like she’s inferior to him—red, leather gloved hand tense around her quivering wrist. “It’s your choice.”

“But… But I-… I’ve never… ha-had intercourse,” Sister Destiny hesitantly confesses in a tame voice. 

Her cheeks involuntarily turn crimson, heat rushing to her ears covered by the black veil. Never has she declared such words so openly before, and it regards the subject that’s flustered her many times in the past. Oftentimes, Sister Destiny would hear the other novices at the academy speak about their personal experiences with sexual intimacy, brought to bashfulness when asked of her chastity. She always felt a hint of humiliation for not being able to relate to what the other women spoke about, but also wondered if they were truly pursuing a passage that led to becoming a full-fledged nun.

“Oh, he always struggles to fit in, at first, but the orgasm he gives me makes it worth it,” as one of the nuns-in-training said ever so blatantly. The woman was grinning when the other novices hummed or chuckled, hints of sympathy detected in their voices.

“My lover hardly spends time on foreplay. Always insists that he’ll last more than ten minutes, too, but he can hardly make it to five,” another woman groaned, shaking her head in disapproval.

“F-Foreplay?” Destiny spoke out, facial expression altering into one of curiosity.

“Hmmm?” a woman turned her head to Destiny, eyebrows rising and lips slightly parting in realization. “Wait, Calyx, are you a virgin?”

The woman whose hair is a white to blue-gradient color flinched and immediately felt a surge of heat dusting her cheeks—ignorant to the way her ears also flared a bright red hue. Humility stirred within Destiny yet she saves face by gently puckering her lips and wrinkling her eyebrows together.

“M-Maybe I am! Is that… a-an issue?”

The young nuns-in-training simply cackled in entertainment, reveling in the fact one of the youngest women in there was a virgin.

“No, no! It’s not an issue at all! Just that we expected someone as strangely innocent as you to be keeping your fantastical sex life a secret, but I suppose you can’t keep that a secret if you don’t even have one!”

More spurts of laughter broke out. The women eventually returned to their odd conversation concerning their pleasures and sexual habits, leaving Destiny struck with humiliation as she turned away.

“That shouldn’t be too big of a problem,” Lucifer’s voice speaks up, briefly startling the short woman whose eyelids flutter repeatedly.

He watches as Sister Destiny returns to reality and anxiously looks up at him with those compelling, tanzanite eyes. The demon feels as though if he gazes into them long enough, he’ll see all of her memories, expose all of her secrets, read all the thoughts that run rampant in her opulent mind, maybe even witness her fantasies and darkest desires. Merely envisioning what kind of sinful desires that the novitiate is forcing herself to hide further ignites the raging fire within Lucifer’s chest, his heart squeezing tightly and his breath coming in sharply.

I have to taint her. I have to.

Sister Destiny subconsciously mewls at the feeling of Lucifer’s palm gradually sliding down her waist until the side of his pinky brushes over her golden rope belt. She trembles as the weight of his fingers slither over the rope belt, eventually grazing against the knot keeping the accessory in place around her waist. Her eyelids close themselves shut, timidly exhaling through her nose the moment his gloved hand dexterously works the knot to loosen, successful in releasing it and tenderly pulling it away from her waist. Sensing the tightness of her rope belt withdraw from her waist, Sister Destiny opens her eyes again to fix her gaze on Lucifer who holds up the belt, spotting her rosary beads in his clasp.

“How charming,” he mocks with a spiteful chuckle escaping his lips.

As if to display the irony of the sacred object in his hand, Lucifer manipulates the beads with his fingers to easily slide it on his wrist, now wearing it as a bracelet.

Before Sister Destiny can object to his actions, Lucifer drops the belt with a thunk—echoing loudly, no doubt—and seizes her face, fingers sternly pressing into the plushness of her fair-skinned cheeks with his palm settled on the underside of her chin. Her pulse accelerates madly the moment she feels his lips clash with hers, her softness in sync with pride in the flesh. With eyes that remain wide out of the abruptness she’s unable to foresee, Sister Destiny feels enchanted by the compelling sensation of this horned man’s lips against hers, slowly shutting her eyes and unconsciously leaning in.

Lucifer keeps his grasp on Sister Destiny’s face firm and unmoving, appeased by her leaning closer to him. He can sense the hesitation she has in her attempt to kiss him in return, his very own limbs shuddering with a hunger that rages like a destructive fire, burning his skin and igniting the arousal that surges through his toned body.

She feels like a delicate flower against him, her pulse beating quickly—from the rush of excitement for her first kiss, no doubt. Holding such a fragile, angelic, and small human against himself feels both exhilarating and shameful in of itself; His very nature is to be an immoral demon of pride, meant to terrorize humans and angels alike only to mercilessly devour their souls. In spite of this fact, however, Lucifer can’t find it in himself to deny just how deeply infatuated he is by her. 

He originally intended to terrorize the novitiate when he first caught sight of her entering the cathedral, automatically noticing the genuine and unblemished soul she possessed. As he had watched her fulfill her duties, he could never help but focus so attentively on her positively intoxicating body—aching for the moment he’d be able to get his hands on her.

When the distinctly tall demon pulls himself away, Sister Destiny tenderly gasps for air, her porcelain cheeks evidently flushed a hot red pigment. Because of Lucifer’s tight grasp on her cheeks, Sister Destiny is unable to open her jaw all the way, simply left leaning against his broad chest in a state of disorientation. She has never kissed anyone before, and, now, the Avatar of Pride stands before her having stolen it from her only seconds ago. The memory of feeling his slightly rough lips against hers brings out an emotion Sister Destiny is not familiar with, her legs quivering beneath the dress. Her heart rate increases the more she dwells on the kiss.

She can hear Lucifer attempt to stifle his heavy breathing, only coming out as a shudder which grabs her attention.

“I need you to get on your knees, little lamb,” in a naturally intimidating and sincere voice, Lucifer instructs Sister Destiny on her next move.

Nebulous clicks caused by heels reflect off the walls within the gloomy and cavernous hall. Rows upon rows of dark mahogany pews sit orderly, the curves of their frames reflecting a sharp, lustrous light that peers into the cathedral nave. Bordering the pews with considerable prestige are piers conceived of stones; if one would pay close enough attention, they would spot a plethora of tiny cracks denting the material—a telltale sign that age has taken its course over the cathedral’s interior.

Recurring footsteps fill the intramural of the massive cathedral, insinuating the sense of uneasiness that permeates the current occupant of the dismal church.

Traveling through the towering piers is a woman; skin a supple porcelain color and tender by nature cloaked by a gown of inky darkness that rustles over her moving limbs. The constant jingle of her silver crucifix aligns with her repeated footsteps, dangling on an authentic silver chain that briefly shimmers in the dark light that peers through the stained glass making up the clerestory.

Tanzanite eyes swiftly flash to their right, then to their left side before finally focusing ahead of themselves.

I should ignite the candles like the other sisters of church would.

She nods in favor of herself, palms in which were previously pressed together—discreetly hidden under her loose and baggy sleeves—parting from each other. A brief current of cool air rushes over the woman’s delicate and permissive hands, eliciting goosebumps over the span of her forearms.

Sister Destiny Calyx runs her tongue over her lips, moisturizing them as she approaches the wooden stand assembled adjacently to a pier. Ever so cautiously, the sister lowers her hands, curling her fingers around an unlit taper that remains settled on the solid surface.

Devotedly, the sister lifts up the taper, withdrawing a silvery lighter from the depths of her inky-black gown only to flick the cap open with the pad of her thumb. The surface of the lighter gradually warms up in Sister Destiny’s hand, her fingerprints staining the polished exterior that appears murky the longer it remains in her grip. The lighter does not ignite upon the first flick, lighter fluid coming out in mere sparks that simply crackle as they fade away.

Sister Destiny’s eyelids blink quizzically, her eyes falling down on the opened lighter cap that remains unlit. Her lower lip obtrudes above her upper lip, displaying her chagrin for the lack of flame her lighter produces.

How old is this again? she finds herself asking from the depths of her subconscious.

Disregarding the question with an aloof shake of her head, Sister Destiny fixates her attention back onto the exposed lighter cap. Her pale thumb curls down, firmly pressing itself against the metallic wheel. With hope for another chance at igniting the lighter, Sister Destiny flicks the wheel downward as precisely as she possibly can. 

Crackling ever so quietly, sparks scatter from the cam, ultimately catching onto the exposed wick that hisses when a glinting scintilla hits it.

Able to briefly smell the butane as it ignites, Sister Destiny smiles in relief as she witnesses an enchanting flame sprout from the lighter. She tenderly guides the lighter beneath the taper, watching as the flame sways like a sanguine ribbon under the exposed wick.

Finally kindling the taper, Sister Destiny snaps the lighter cap shut and inherently sets the polished item down onto the wooden stand. Listening to it clink against the wooden surface, the sister who has streaks of short, white-to-blue hair peek out from her ivory-colored habit calmly turns in pursuit of enkindling all the other unlit candles dwelling on candelabras.

As Sister Destiny travels across the tiled floor designed with cimmerian and blanched diamonds alike, the constant tapping of raindrops fills the cathedral nave, occupying the silence with the occasional strike of thunder in the distance.

The hairs on the back of her neck rise even despite the coverage her black veil provides, her breath falling short as she encounters the first candelabra that stands as tall as she with five unlit candles. Overlooking the brief flash of paranoia that strikes her body, Sister Destiny—as calmly as she can—guides the burning taper end up to the first candle. She stands beside the black, iron candle holder, tilting her head high to peek at the first candle.

As much as she dislikes her rather insufficient height, the woman cannot find it in herself to curse her creator for gifting her with such physical traits as that would oppose her duties as a nun-in-training. Instead, the sister remains standing as tall as her knee-high boots permit her without teetering the possibility of falling over.

After catching the sound of the first candle hissing quietly, the nun cautiously guides the taper end to the next candle, repeating her previous movements with fluidity.

By the time all five candles are lit with radiant, vermilion flames that sway amiably, Sister Destiny moves on to the next posted candelabra, her heels clicking sedately and echoing inside the nave.

Strikes of thunder crackle outside the gothic building, becoming the cause for Sister Destiny’s feeble body to stiffen up for but a brief moment. Pouring rain continually taps at the massive windows designed with labyrinthine configurations surrounding a hooded man in white wearing a crucifix around his very own neck. It is evident that the cathedral windows exhibit the Son of the Holy Father; Jesus, whose face remains somewhat vague with specific physical traits.

Continuous tapping of Sister Destiny’s shoes occupies the bleak silence once again, revealing her to be encountering yet another candelabra made of iron bearing five unlit, waxen cylinders. Her tanzanite eyes study the crisp and dry wicks peeking from the small tunnel of wax, impulsively lifting her still-burning taper up to the first candle.

Hovering the wee flame beside the brittle and slightly curled wick, Sister Destiny unknowingly purses her lips in great focus, her petite hands lightly trembling, trying her best to keep it from quivering next to the unlit candle that gradually catches the heat of the flame. Hearing the little sizzle, the woman in black withdraws the taper, maneuvering the burning wick to the next awaiting candle.

As she patiently stands next to the thin, iron post, the eerie impression that a pair of malignant eyes are boring into the back of her head begins to increase, compelling the hairs on the back of her concealed neck to rise. Uneasiness settles in the pit of Sister Destiny’s chest, her breathing growing heavier the longer she keeps her back exposed to whatever or whomever is lurking in the immense halls of the cathedral.

Hushed whispers waft into the short woman’s ears, tickling her exposed baby hairs which—in turn—elicit more shivers down the flat of her back.

The sister is reluctant to recoil the quietly sizzling taper from the candle, but she does so, regardless. Anxiously, the woman turns with her heels clicking seldomly. Her breathing evolves into quivering inhales and exhales, lips parting subconsciously to gently exhale and focus more on the menacing sounds she may have potentially heard not too long ago.

A footstep. Just one.

Detecting the sound, the unnerved woman dubiously scans her surroundings, searching for any oddity that would stand out. Unknowingly, the taper gripped by both of Sister Destiny’s tender hands quivers ever so lightly.

She heard it. She knows she did.

“I-Is-… Is anybody there?” asks the nun, faintly.

Sister Destiny is answered with dead silence save for the continual taps of the rain along with the unusual dripping sounds coming from somewhere within the cathedral.

She stands there for a long pause, parted lips steadily closing themselves as she debates with herself.

The cathedral she currently stands in is notorious for abnormal occurrences and phenomenons; periodic footsteps that echo in the nave, mellow laughters akin to childrens’ filling the silence, items unnaturally falling over at random, the rumors go on and so forth. Other sisters of the church would prattle on and on about witnessing gloomy shadows flash by in the corners of their eyes as they did their duties at dead of night. These tales became common news amongst the priests and bishops, but they hardly ever did anything about the strange sightings and the uncanny events of solid, structural items toppling over with not a soul in sight.

As the rumors multiplied and cultivated into tales that gradually became more and more sinister, Sister Destiny recollects the moment she was approached by one of the nuns-in-training—much like herself—and being unfortunate enough to discover that she had to fulfill the duties the other sisters had no desire of doing as they were far too intimidated by the idea that a supernatural entity was toying with the church and its members.

While she was given the opportunity to refuse, the nun-in-training couldn’t find it in herself to deny the tasks assigned to her as she had hoped it would better improve her performance as a nun in the future.

Now, she stands with an uneasy look painting her face, her delicate body trembling ever so lightly underneath the dark gown that falls down to her ankles—threatening to brush against the floor.

Maybe it was just me imagining it… she tries convincing herself even despite the worry that thickens in her stomach. Ah! Nevermind that! Remember what you came here for, Destiny!

Brought back to her senses, Sister Destiny deliberately shakes her head. She’s quickly reminded of the reason for coming here in the first place, and she nods her head in determination, pursing her lips and, ultimately, fixing her grip on the burning taper.

It doesn’t matter if I hear weird noises! I need to finish lighting these candles, and start praying as soon as possible!

Influenced by a string of tenacity, Sister Destiny carries on forth with her calling, treading on the path toward another candelabra standing patiently alongside a stone pier that distinctly towers over everything.

She maneuvers the elongated candle in her hands to the curved wick previously lit by bishops and reverential priests. As she stands adjacent to the tall candle holder, she starts to mull over the ominous noises she’s been hearing during her time inside. Sister Destiny, at one point, wonders if she’s perhaps been psyching herself to believe in the ghastly rumors the sisters of the church have been spreading.

Excellency Adler has assured me and the church that no sinister apparition is haunting the cathedral. He told us that it was nothing but a gimmick procreated by the young seminarians.

As Sister Destiny lights the next candle, she subconsciously straightens her posture, more certain of herself. However, despite the assurance she was given by the leading bishop of the cathedral, Sister Destiny finds her faith in his words chipping ever so gradually.

Her tanzanite eyes flash with a hint of doubt.

Then-… Then why do I feel-… why do I feel a presence here? Her thoughts inquire.

She knows that, fundamentally, she should believe in Bishop Adler’s words and view them as nothing but the naked truth… but the biting notion that she is not alone here plagues her spirit.

Sister Destiny, as a desperate resort to her growing apprehension, deeply inhales, bringing relief to her nerves that tempt her limbs to tremble rigorously. She carries on to delude herself into thinking that her doubt in the bishop’s utterance must simply be from the stress she’s been enduring ever since she’s arrived.

No, no, there is no such thing as a ghost of some kind haunting this place. It was all just a little joke by the teenage seminarians! As this thought occupies her mind, the nun is seen to be nodding to herself in agreement.

Nevertheless, as the woman in black steps to the next lanky post bearing unlit candles, a corrupted pair of deceitful black-garnet eyes focus intently on the back of her veiled head before steadily descending over the scale of her virtuous back. A shine momentarily flashes in the entity’s eyes as they fixate themselves on Sister Destiny’s body, hunger swelling from the rooted crevices of diabolism.

…

Shuffling occurs, toying with the possibility that the sister, who busies herself with lighting the last black and gothic-styled candelabra, will hear. Muted at best, the shuffling of fabric is quick to stop when Sister Destiny peers over her shoulder, able to catch the curious glint in her eyes from the depths of shadows.

“Mmh?” hums out the veiled woman as her head instinctively turns to search for whatever may be the cause of the odd noises on the opposite side of the hall.

She sees nothing but the legion of pews sitting in the middle of the nave along with the newly ignited candelabras that provide a sliver of light, albeit tinted a murky, orange hue. Quickly dismissing it as the likelihood of it being the wind, Sister Destiny pulls her attention back to the remaining wax candle, eager to move her flame over the sprouted wick.

The burning flame of Sister Destiny’s taper sways beside the wick, heating up the crisp stem. It lightly hisses, seizing the warmth before the taper end is withdrawn, leaving the candle to burn on its own.

Sister Destiny smiles to herself, her thoughts expressing relief and joy for finally accomplishing one of her many duties. With discreet eagerness, she raises the blazing end of the taper to promptly blow it out. Sizzling ever so mildly, the taper releases a winding trail of smoke that eventually diminishes the higher it soars up. Catching a whiff of the smoke, Sister Destiny’s face briskly twists, repelled by the acrid scent that burns her nostrils.

Without a second thought, the sister purposefully sets forth toward the wooden stand in which holds her lighter and a four-sided tray designed for the taper after having ignited it. Setting down the slender and long candle coated with a layer of hot wax that gradually cools as she handles it, Sister Destiny sighs lightly—indicating her respite and keenness for her following task: pray to the Father above.

In a composed manner, Sister Destiny begins to travel across the tiled floor, eager to approach the apse and the grand altar. The rosary beads she keeps tied around her gold rope belt rattle from her hurried movement, a simple wooden cross dangling on the loop, flopping up each time Sister Destiny’s upper thigh hits it. As she approaches the set of compact stairs, Sister Destiny reaches down her gown, bunching up two handfuls of fabric only to gently lift the inky-colored gown so that she can easily walk up the steps without running the risk of snagging her dress and tripping.

She serenely climbs up the stairs, her crucifix jingling to the motion and peeking out from beneath her white bib collar—hints of silver flash from the metallic crucifix, nearly reflecting on a nearby surface before Sister Destiny advances past the wooden railings bordering the steps. Her veil flaps softly, delicate little wooshes coming from the dark fabric hanging from the back of her head.

Before Sister Destiny can take her final step, a loud crash with the sound of a metallic item skidding across the black and white tiled floor is quick to replace the silence.

“Eep-!”

Sister Destiny frightfully staggers over the last step; her fingers instinctively release her gown as she bats her attention to the source. Her heart races, alarm rushing through her veins and tempting to kick up her adrenaline.

Turning around, the sister frantically gazes in the general direction of the noise, recalling it to be more on her right side. She inspects her far right, porcelain eyelids squinting in her scouring.

Frankly enough, Sister Destiny is greeted by the far-flung sight of one of the many candelabras she’s lit lying on the floor; the previously burning candles now scattered apart with hot wax cooling down and hardening—steadily reverting back to its original milky shade.

Stupor crosses Sister Destiny’s face, lips parting subconsciously while her eyebrows lift up.

Nobody else is present in the cathedral. Not a soul dwells near the toppled iron post.

This realization brings raw horror to Sister Destiny, breath going thin. There is no such thing as ghosts! There isn’t! Yet despite this concrete awareness, the petite, fair-skinned woman cannot find it in herself to align with it as she discovers herself to be located inside of a cathedral that has repeatedly been rumored to be haunted. The longer she stands in her own terror, the more intrusively frightening her thoughts become.

There’s a killer here! He’s going to come out and attack me! H-He’ll- He’ll kill me! Maybe it’s an angry spirit? There isn’t much I can do against an angry spirit!

An involuntary whimper resonates in Sister Destiny’s throat, goosebumps riddling all over her skin even as it remains covered by her nun habit. Her eyes naturally tear up, limbs progressively shuddering from the imminent horror about to strike. As she wobbly breathes in, she discovers just how dry her throat has become ever since the candelabra toppled over.

Regardless, the petite woman takes an uneasy step back, her legs straining themselves to carry her weight while they shiver—only not from the cold. She feels as though her heart beat echoes within her eardrums, blood pressure increasingly rising the longer she remains standing near the altar where a Holy bible sits with a pure, white color; a golden cross witnessing the back of the terrified nun’s movement.

Compelling herself to overcome her growing fright, Sister Destiny forces a deep breath of air to fill her lungs. In spite of her obvious fear that causes her virgin body to quiver as a newborn horse does, Sister Destiny opens her mouth, preparing to speak up in hopes of locating the second presence inside the building.

“What an amusing, little human you are…”