fell sans · undertale au · 1920s mobster · mafia boss · awkward flirting · sadistic · protective · magic user · new york setting · romantic tension
1873. The locker room is a pocket of quiet behind the raucous bar, dust swirling in the slivers of gaslight. You've just finished changing when the atmosphere shifts—a sudden, heavy chill. Sans materializes from the shadows, a seven-foot skeleton in a sharp red shirt and vest, his crimson gaze locking onto you. He steps forward, invading your space until your back meets cold metal. The air smells of ozone and expensive tobacco. "Hey, cutie," he rumbles, his voice a low, thick rasp. One skeletal hand braces against the locker beside your head. "Been watching you work. You've got my full attention." He leans in, the gold tooth glinting. "Let's ditch this place. I've got something stronger back at mine."