Don't Forget [Sans x Female Reader]

15: Let's Talk About Your Car's Extended Warranty

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The call goes as well as you expect it to. You made sure to tell her you really couldn’t talk for long since Sans’ brother (yes, you told her his name, it’s only fair if she knows), Papyrus, wants to discuss some house rules over dinner. She let you go soon after, reassured when you told her you call her again later today when you get settled down.

You actually really like the balcony: it’s facing the direction of Waterfalls and it’s just cozy. You might bring a chair out here whenever you want some alone time.

Going back inside and down stairs, you see that the table that was pushed against the right wall (the one with their pet rock that was still there) was pulled away from said wall. There are three, identical wooden chairs: one on the left, one on the right, and one at the head of the table closest to the kitchen. The pie was already freed from its container and set on the table next to the pet rock.

Sans was already sitting at the head of the table, and he motions for you to take the seat on the right side. You do so without any complaint. There’s already forks on the table alongside glasses of water and a pitcher of iced water, too.

Respectfully, they have GOT to rearrange the minimal furniture in this house.

“everything okay?”

“Yep! Gonna call her again later though,” You clasp your hands and set them on the table, “I—told her your name because I thought it’s only right if she knows who I’m staying with.”

He tenses up, “and?”

“And… She wanted me to tell you her name in return,” You smile at him with a wink, “So the story is that Napstablook didn’t tell you shit, okay?”

Sans sighs for the nth time that day, “you’re trying to give me a heart attack, aren’t ya?”

“Whoops! Sorry, I didn’t know you didn’t have the guts to handle it.”

Before the punny monster can quip back, the greatest monster to have ever lived bounces into the living room with a flourish. Two plates of spaghetti in his hands and he sets them down gently in front of you and his brother.

“where’s your plate, bro?”

“IT SEEMS THAT I MAY HAVE UNWITTINGLY UNDERESTIMATED HOW MUCH I NEEDED TO MAKE. I’M SO USED TO MAKING ONLY ENOUGH JUST FOR YOU AND I.” Papyrus sighs so sadly,  “BUT YOU TWO NEED NOT WORRY. I AM WILLING TO MAKE THIS SMALL, YET PAINFUL, SACRIFICE SO THAT YOU TWO CAN ENJOY MY COOKING!”

Jesus.

You’re slightly scared for your life, but you can’t help but still feel grateful he cooked something for you at all to welcome you. Even if it’s going to taste bad (maybe it’s not that bad and Sans was exaggerating?), you want to at LEAST take ONE bite.

“Thank you for the food, Papyrus!”

“YOU ARE MOST CERTAINLY WELCOME! FEEL FREE TO DIG IN,” He widens his eye sockets, “OH, I NEARLY FORGOT SOMETHING. I’LL BE RIGHT BACK.”

As the frantic skeleton hurries back to the kitchen, you scrunch up your nose and take the fork. Whelp, rip in pieces you. You stick your fork into the noodles (they feel kind of stiff, you don’t think they’re fully cooked) and twirl the utensil. Sans looks at you like you’re fucking crazy.

“you’re not seriously gonna eat it, are you??”

“Well yeah, dude. What else is there to do? He made it for me, of course I’m gonna eat it,” You shrug and bring the food to your mouth, “Bone Apple Tea, I guess.”