That Golden Butterfly {Gaster Sans X Reader}

Chapter 8

I watched as the sun set behind the hills, emitting its orange and red colors onto the land. With a sigh I stepped inside and closed the door to the balcony.
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Warning!
This story may trigger readers who suffer from anxiety, depression or PTSD. There are many mentions of domestic abuse, self harm, self loathing, suicidal thoughts and tendencies. If you are easily triggered or bothered by such content, proceed with caution.
~W. D. Girl

A week has passed since my outburst and G was still ignoring me, or rather just shooting me glares every so often. I don't know why, but it hurt every time he did so. Why must emotions suck so much?! It was early afternoon and I was assigned the laundry duty. Despite the fact that I despised doing the laundry, I didn't complain, since there were only towels and sheets to go through, which were the easiest to tend to. The base was getting bigger and more crammed by the day, refugees and lost monsters came dropping in every now and then.

I quietly sighed as I finished folding the last sheet, placing my hands on my lower back and stretching, my spine letting out a few satisfying cracks. A knock echoed from the doors behind me, catching my attention and making me turn around to face the monster. Before me stood a monster I've heard so much about. He was known for being slightly obnoxious and nosy but I'll have to see for myself.

"Why so sour? It's a wonderful day today! Come along (r/n), let's turn your frown upside down!~"

Said the talking toaster as G liked to call him. I had no choice but to play along with his cheerful attitude. Nobody else must know what Boneboy knows. He lead me outside the laundry room and down the halls into, presumably, his room. As he opened the door I was met with a pink explosion. There was so much hot pink inside it actually hurt to look at. He ushered me to step inside as he closed the door behind us. I sat down on a pink armchair he had in the corner of his room.

Mettaton was running around, grabbing clothes and make-up wherever it laid. I had a bad feeling about that.

"Oh Honey! You'll look absolutely stunning in this dress! We simply MUST give you a makeover! ~"
He chimed and twirled the chair I was in around.

"Mettaton, I don't think it's necessary..."
I tried to protest but he pretended like he didn't hear my quiet plea.

"Let me just put this box here- there we go!~ Now where shall I start?"
He thought aloud, mostly to himself.

"Mettaton, please!"
I shouted, making him stop in his tracks.

"Is everything okay, Darling?"
He asked legitimately curios.

"I'm... Really flattered that you'd want to have me as your pallette, but I don't want this..."
I said hesitantly, not wanting to hurt him, while he took a moment to think. He looked at me and stood like that for a few seconds. I quietly sighed a s shifted my weight, trying to get comfortable with my scars.

"Well then, let's do something else that will be just as fun!"
He beamed and pulled me up form the chair. I quietly squeaked as he yanked me up, the momentum causing me to bump into his metallic chest with a quiet 'thump'.

"Oh, I'm so excited! We're going to have so much fun!"
He exclaimed and pulled me outside his room. As he was about to say something, he bumped into Papyrus.

"Who in Asgore's name do you think you a-"
He looked at the skeleton before him and the sight took his breath away.

"A-a-are..."
Mettwton stuttered, a light pink blush beginning to dust his metal cheeks.