NSFW
Relationships: Flowey/Reader, Sans/Reader
Characters: Flowey, Sans, Reader
Tags: Cheating, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Songfic, One Shot, Prequel, Mutual Pining, Guilt, Reader-Insert, ntr, very brief mention of nswf acts for the plot, Jealousy, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Desperation, Flowey-centric, Yandere Flowey, Cuckolding
Summary:
It's forbidden, it's immoral, but it's necessary.
Flowey asks the question that's been brewing inside him for a long while.
Prequel to Lost Love, New Hatred.
Based on Talk About the Weather by Red Lorry, Yellow Lorry.
I'm gonna have to cut this fic up to upload it here, but you can read it in one go in AO3.
Pt. 1 (You're here) / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3
Read under the cut or on AO3
Splashing on the grass, the rain poured down harshly over two darkened silhouettes. The sunset lightly shining through the heavy clouds. Reds, oranges, and pinks softly framed a human and a flower who stood tall, enlarging his stem to loom over them, his leaves grabbing their shoulders. Despite the heavy rain, if one were to hear closely, they would notice faint sobbing, obviously coming from the human whose chest heaved. They were dripping wet, completely soaked under the rain, and their tears meshed with the raindrops as they fell from their eyes directly to the ground. They looked down at their feet, watching the symphony of drops splashing with their vision blurred. The question Flowey just asked was swirling around their head, oppressing both mind and heart. An answer they didn’t know if they were ready to reply to, but that had been avoided too many times at this point.
His insistence was endearing, truly. He had been overeager to please them however and whenever he could. This type of warmth, they had never felt before, not even with Sans and his particular ways. They remembered those far-away days of lazing around on a couch, eating snacks, and embracing each other while watching movies. Watching him study and work hard, squeezing their hand softly as they passed in their shared home. Days together, kissing, laughing, slowly being sparser until he spent more time in the lab than alongside them. Flowey was their only company those days when her fiancé was too busy and everyone else was too. Eternal was the tick-tacking of the clock as they waited on the couch for someone who wouldn’t return. Only he, even with his soullessness, understood the desperation and loneliness they felt in the cold living room, lying on an empty sofa, so he always made sure to be there.
Even now, soaking wet, being asked a question that would alter the course of their lives and relationships, they tried to feel something for the memories made by them and their fiancé but only felt a faint whisper of what once was a great love, admired by many.
His expectant face was looking down at them, desperation and tears which broke their already fragile, confused heart. It was wrong, and the guilt ran through their veins to every organ and system. Grabbing, suffocating, squeezing, and burning every single cell in their body. Anxiety, fear, yet… yet they were addicted to the love in his gaze, the truly primal way he begged for them. The longing he and only he felt. For a being that was supposed to have no emotions, how did he end up like this?
“Wanna talk about the weather?” They chuckled, and the world spun around both of them.
That same question echoed in the void of their memories. Flashes of the time spent together melting and fusing and circling around, turning into a white light at the end of a tunnel that shined through. The same scenery, the mountain near the entrance of the underworld.
“Wanna talk about the weather?” A voice echoed. The human’s silhouette was illuminated by the warm sunlight, casting shadows that covered their eyes as they looked down at him with a tilted head, strands of hair hanging around their face.
“Wow, what an interesting and daring question! Golly! You must be a master of conversation, ain’t cha?” The flower rolled his eyes before turning his back… stem, to them. The August midday sun shone brightly, not one cloud in sight. They met a month ago, after Frisk had introduced both of them, and soon, they became sort of his caretaker. It wasn’t too bad, seeing as Sans became more occupied day after day while they worked from home. It was nice, but it could get a bit lonely, so this new friend was warmly welcomed. For many, especially Sans, he was callous and dangerous, as he had no SOUL to make him understand empathy or love. They didn’t care, regardless. The flower seemed defeated and somewhat guilty, lost. So, they stood by him, tried to understand him, and they soon realized he could feel fear, anger, and anxiety, so surely, he would also be able to feel positive feelings. It made sense in their head, although Dr. Alphys said it was too far-fetched. Despite that, they persisted.
“Would you rather have me shut up?” They grinned softly. “Unless you want me to bury you here.” Flowey quickly replied. “Whatever you say, your majesty.” The human let their body fall on the blanket, watching the cloud pass as the flower also looked at the sky with a different expression, a neutral one, a calm one. They always found Flowey amusing, as he was almost like a cat in many ways. Acting like he hated them, though he always came back, always relented, and accepted their various attempts to get close.
NSFW
Relationships: Flowey/Reader, Sans/Reader
Characters: Flowey, Sans, Reader
Tags: Cheating, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Songfic, One Shot, Prequel, Mutual Pining, Guilt, Reader-Insert, ntr, very brief mention of nswf acts for the plot, Jealousy, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Desperation, Flowey-centric, Yandere Flowey, Cuckolding
Summary:
It's forbidden, it's immoral, but it's necessary.
Flowey asks the question that's been brewing inside him for a long while.
Prequel to Lost Love, New Hatred.
Based on Talk About the Weather by Red Lorry, Yellow Lorry.
I'm gonna have to cut this fic up to upload it here, but you can read it in one go in AO3.
Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 (You're here) / Pt. 3
Read under the cut or on AO3
The same sky, now behind a window. The sunlight entered a small living room with a record player in the middle.
“That guy is screeching! He can’t carry a tune, for fuck’s sake!” Flowey snarled as he saw the human dancing in front of a vinyl record player. They were completely entranced, hands in the air as they mumbled along before they stopped, turned towards him, and grabbed his leaves with their hands, softly making him sway along.
“I don’t like perfection. I think there’s more merit in singing with passion than singing perfectly.” They closed their eyes as Flowey tried to pull his leaves away. Well, in truth, he wasn’t putting up much resistance, but he couldn’t help it. “Ah, yeah? Is that also why the lyrics are shit?” Flowey scoffed, crossed two stems and leaves as if they were arms, and elongated himself to stand over her. “Let’s see, human. Think. “Gonna play forever. Watch TV at home.” Does that make any sense to you? What is so special about it?” The flower squinted and grimaced before tapping the human’s forehead with his leaf. They stopped dancing and imitated his stance, humming loudly and thinking while pacing around the room.
“Yes, it makes no sense.”
“That’s so du- What? So you agree?” His mouth gaped, and he tilted his head, petals flopping.
“I mean, I never said it made sense.” Flowey stared, dumbfounded, moving one of his leaves in a circular motion, gesturing the human to elaborate. “It doesn’t have to, though. Things like these, I feel, are more for you to feel them and resonate with them for reasons beyond any perceived meaning. Some things just are, and that’s fine. In fact, the best part is when you get to try to make sense of them.” They stopped in front of him, grabbing his leaves. “Maybe those lyrics refer to the day-to-day, the mundane. I like the mundane, especially along with good company.” They smiled softly, swaying with him. “Or maybe that song doesn't mean anything, and I’m just making stuff up.”
For the human, it was a new feeling. It was exciting. It made their heart flare. After all, they weren’t usually able to have such discussions about the things they liked, nor the chance to explain why. Sans would always brush them off or say, “That sounds cool, hon.” Before continuing with his research or watching a movie, laying in the sofa at home. Topics like these didn’t interest him, while they were full of so many opinions and considerations ready to be explained. They knew it wasn’t done out of uncaringness, because it was clear Sans cared deeply, but that was just how he was.
“Yeah, that’s the most logical response you’ve given me today. Idiotic human.” But he kept considering their response, and he would do so for weeks. The way they would humor his rants, humor his critiques. It made him see them as something more than just a character in a play. His experience with the resets and his lack of soul made him see everyone in the underground as dolls to be played with. Thus, he played with them, without caring about what he destroyed.
In a blink, it was nighttime. Another day, another scene. A dark corridor with a light at the end. A light coming from a room, the door wide open. Flowey was frozen in the spot. He didn’t even dare to move. His mouth hanging open, his breath stuck in his throat felt like a million thorns tearing apart every centimeter, every vocal cord until he was rendered unable to speak as he peeked into the room.
Disgusting. Disgusting and IMMORAL. Yucky, even. DISGUSTING, fucking human, spreading their disgusting human legs, moaning like a DIRTY fucking whore as they rammed their fingers into them. He was SICK to his nonexistent stomach, SICK I’m telling ya. His head was spinning, his face as hot as the core of the underground. He swore he became plastic in an instant and was starting to melt. Oh, boy, it was so WRONG.
“Depraved. Shameless.” he muttered.
But oh, was he in for a treat when he woke up from his daze only to find an appendage held between one of his leaves. Green, thick, bumpy, pulsating. He gave it a stroke and had to bite down on his free leaf to muffle his moans. Oh no, baby, they couldn’t hear him. He rationalized, or at least tried to, that it was natural, it was only natural the way a body reacts to an arousing scene. Monster hormones. After all, he was in his prime. A young adult monster, repressed from any sexual feelings or encounters all these years. Between the resets and violence he grew up in, all caused by himself, thoughts and urges like those never crossed his mind… In fact, he didn’t even think he was supposed to be able to feel them. Yup, that brought the whole “natural” argument now, as it didn’t make sense.
So why couldn’t he stop now? Why did the human in a bed, pleasuring themselves so shamelessly, allure him… bewitch him like this? They picked up their pace, a delicious smell, a primal smell wafting directly to him, making him stroke his dick like a madman.
“I HATE you. You think— Fuck…” He groaned as his body trembled in the newfound found pleasure. “You think you can do this to me? Oh, dear. Oh—” He had to bite his tongue as he saw them add another finger, back-arching, toes-curling. They were so lost, lost in a flurry of lust, of pure need. It was so disgustingly depraved. It was even more depraved to spy on the human like this, and it gave him enough pleasure to make him unable to string sentences. All he could do was stifle some moans so MAYBE, they wouldn’t notice the perverted, voyeuristic flower jacking off to them. He liked that idea, he loved the rush it gave him. What if they found out? Would they hate him? Would it disgust them? Would they… His mind wandered to a wild thought, an unrealistic one. The human was Sans’ mate.
That was wrong. Sans was his “friend” of sorts, or at least he tried to be after the human scolded the skeleton for treating Flowey coldly. Eventually he warmed up to the flower, obviously, like, what could Flowey even do now? Without the power of the resets, if he tried to go killing, not only would he not be able to start over if he were to be defeated, but… nah, why do something so foolish now? He was tired, no longer finding whatever the underground had amusing. It was something new being outside for once, so he wouldn’t fuck it up and risk either dying for good or being back in the underground. Besides, if everything went back to the start, he wouldn’t be here, experiencing a GOOD feeling for once, a warm, delicious, addictive one given to him by his disgusting, depraved, dirty, delicious, beau— Uh, what the hell?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Undertale (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Asriel Dreemurr/Flowey/Reader, Flowey (Undertale)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader, Asriel Dreemurr (Undertale)/Reader Characters: Flowey (Undertale), Sans (Undertale), Frisk (Undertale) Additional Tags: Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Porn With Plot, Cuckolding, Sans is a Mess (Undertale), Canon Sans | Classic Sans (Undertale), Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Humiliation, Size Kink, Dacryphilia, Voyeurism, Self-Esteem Issues, Depression, Verbal Humiliation, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Tentacle Sex, Delusions, Mental Health Issues, Masochism, Asriel Dreemurr and Flowey are the Same Person (Undertale), it has a good ending but not for sans, Soul Bond, adult asriel dreemur, Adult Flowey, plant dick, Not Canon Compliant, I make the rules, netorare?, Songfic, but my way, One Shot, One-Sided Relationship Summary: Just the story of a short skeleton going back home to finally propose to the love of his life who he has been dating for years… They sure had a surprise for him back home.
