Minor crude language and behaviour ahead.
Discretion is advised if you're under 13 of age.
★
You heave a sigh, throwing yourself on the couch while your ex continues to rant from their phone. If it weren’t for the late hour, you would’ve left the house to avoid the possibility of Faust waking up and sneaking in on your argument. You settle on lowering your voice and stepping out of the house, the warmth of the night seeping into your skin.
The night is quiet with the exception of the (man/woman) ranting on the phone and the few cars honking as they pass by near your home. You lean your back against the door and catch sight of your neighbour just arriving home from a busy day at work. She waves and you wave back at her, a sympathetic smile showing on her dark complexion when taking notice of the distressed look on your face.
“It’s only a small trip to miss Toriel’s garden,” you explain, hearing your ex calm down. “He’ll be spending time with Frisk.”
You can hear shuffling noises in the background along with them sighing deeply. Hushed whispers exchange words, the second voice you recognize as their new lover.
“Is that really the best you can do?” they ask, their voice mocking to your ears.
“What do you mean?” you question back, knitting your eyebrows together as your hold on the phone tightens.
“Only two months living in this city, and you’re already going out with a monster?” they comment, the way those words come out leading you to imagine they were frowning at your choices. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m in favour of monsters being here at the Surface, and okay with them working with us, but dating them’s a little. . . Y’know.”
“I don’t know,” you snap, creases forming on your forehead as you direct a disapproving look at the wall next to you, wishing they were present to direct it at them. “I’m not dating Sans, if that’s what you’re thinking. But that still shouldn’t excuse what you’re trying to say here.”
“I just don’t think you should be so friendly with someone like him,” they persist, chuckling at their own words. “We don’t know how things were like at the Underground. For all we know, they could be underdeveloped lives -- unknown creatures waiting to snap at any moment.”
“I don’t think we’re on the same page here,” you intervene, frowning. You pace to and back the entrance of your home, taking deep breaths to avoid getting worked up. Not only were you out in public, but it was late in the night and you were against causing disruption with the hour it was. “Sans has been nothing but cordial since we met. He’s the one responsible for Faust’s math grades going up.”
“It doesn’t matter to me what he does. That’s something you could do, or hell -- You can even tell me, and I’ll try to tutor Faust every once in a while.”
Furious, you can feel your hold on the phone turn painful. It's becoming harder for you to remain calm with how nonchalant they're being, yet you try to keep yourself from blowing up -- it being one of the main reasons why you ended up in arguments with them in the first place. You want to change now that you're divorced and living at a new place, so you take in another breath, letting it out through your nostrils.
“I would do that, but you’re never there -- I tried contacting you when he got his first ‘F’. Three times I called you, and three times it went to voicemail! I’d teach him if I could, but you know it yourself. I can’t do that right now.”
“I just don’t feel comfortable having a monster around at your house. You and Faust should be more careful around him and the rest of those guys. That janitor-tutor-whatever’s being too friendly with you for someone who’s only supposed to teach Faust.”
“Careful? Faust goes to a human-monster school, run by a monster herself,” you disagree, glaring down at the floor and pressing the phone closer to your ear. “Why bring this up now of all days? It’s been two months since he started school!”
“Honey, calm dow--“
“Don’t ‘honey’ me anymore,” you interrupt, gritting your teeth and letting your back slide further down from the wall until reaching the floor. You slump yourself on the floor, already worn out from your argument with them. “You’ve been like this ever since we signed those adoption papers.”
“You’ve changed, too,” they object, their tone growing cold. “You’re nothing like the (Y/N) I fell in love with seven years ago.”
“Don’t start with me again,” you mutter, holding back the urge to let your voice break.
Noticing the change in your tone, you can hear their mocking tone return with a dramatic gasp, a noise that makes annoyance prick at your mind. “Oh? You’re not gonna call your little monster boyfriend to comfort you?” they taunt, snickering. “I’m sure he knows by now how to make you feel good in bed. I should know, since it didn’t take me longer than two weeks to get under your pants.”
You feel sick to the stomach with those words, incredulity mixing with a strong sense of hurt. Out of all the things you expected them to say, this one was at the bottom of your list.
“I’ll be taking Faust with me tomorrow, whether you like it or not. I don’t want to hear your voice anymore, so goodbye.”
“Too bad you adopted a kid with me -- You still have to, even if you don’t want to.”
With that, they hang up on you. Fury courses through you as the earlier words keep surfacing over your thoughts. The fact that they dared to bring up how quick you both ended up in bed together during your younger years makes your chest ache. You never expected them to bring that up as a way to make you feel like a lesser being.
Defeated but not yet ready to give up, you let out a sigh, allowing your tension to be released from that action. The wrinkles on your forehead lessen the further you calm down, and you're able to stand up, gathering determination to head back inside and get ready for the next day.
Though the conversation still remains in your thoughts as you make your way inside, you try to distract yourself by packing a backpack large enough for both Faust and yourself, not exactly knowing what you would need for your trip to see the Echo flowers. You settle on packing the essentials just in case, a ‘ping’ noise from your phone interrupting you from your planning. You pick up your phone from the coffee table and check to see who it is, coming across Sans’s name on the screen.
i hope you’re ready for tomorrow. frisk won’t stop asking how long ‘til you guys get here.
g’night, (y/n).
Choice #1
How will you reply to his message?
a.) Finish packing first
b.) Don't reply
c.) Formally
d.) Casually
★
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Fanfiction(Sans × Gender-Neutral! Parent! Reader || Slow Burn) Moving from a backwater town to a city bustling with human and monsterfolk alike, some things begin to change both for the better and the worse. What was left behind comes back to bite at you in t...
