Chapter Text
The next thing she knows is her innermost part is being assaulted by the tip of Onionsans’ ovipositor.
Sans has never ever felt such a thing in her entire life, and such, the third org*sm wrecks her from inside out. Onionsan grunt surprises even him. Some of that fluid lubricating the eggs spill out of his special tentacle into Sans’ womb. “wait…” The clarity that came after her climax makes Sans aware of the implications of Onionsan stretching her cervix. Eggs. He has been repeating over and over again since she came here that he will fill her up with eggs. They are coming soon and there is nothing she can do to stop them.
So against her best judgment, she lays back down and relaxes. Sans concentrates on letting the big appendage into her body. This makes Onionsan's job easier. His tentacle continues attacking Sans’ baby canal and she can’t be happier about it.
“Here they come!” The moment he uttered those beautiful words, Sans labia stretched in the most wonderful way! They are just big enough! If she had an ounce of sense in her left, she would have been terrified to be torn apart by the eggs coming from such a giant monster but she is pleased to know she will be able to take them all and fulfill her purpose.
She is going to be such a good momma!
Her babies are coming!
“yes, please! give them to me, give them to me! i want to be their mommy. i’m going to be their mommy! ahah! thank you, thank you!” The elation she feels when taking one egg after another is amazing. A high one could never fully understand. Sans is happy to be able to receive so much.
So many!
“Yes, yes, yes! I will give them all to you! You’re going to be so round with children. You’ll give birth to my babies!” Onionsan shares the experience with Sans easily enough. Their magic tune with each other so that every time one of their org*sms reaches its peak, the other will feel as good as the other.
No one knows how many little eggs are shoved between Sans’ lower lips and no one cares.
Sans starts to caress her belly lovingly once it’s apparent she’s bearing child. It feels so good! Who would have thought such a thing existed! Sans thanks everything for this moment. Right here and right now, Sans is happy and without any worries.
Her belly is so round already and it’s going to be even more with the string of eggs coming from Onionsan. “i love this…” It’s the only sensible thing to say, in Sans’ mind. “You’re so brave, my dear. You are taking them all and not wasting any. You are taking all of our children like a queen!” Princess. Sans’ soul stings again and her mind conjures the word “princess” against the word queen. Red again, huh? Well, it’s his fault he came to this world. It’s his fault Sans became… this.
Whatever this is she has become.
Sans chides her own mind for thinking about Red while being pumped full of someone else's babies. After all, Red is going to find her and when he does, he will realize he doesn’t want anything to do with her anymore.
“Oh, sweetie! You’re crying again! There, there. It’s going to be over soon, pinky promise!”
Crying? Why would she be crying? Not for Red. Surely not for the bastard who couldn’t keep it in his pants and sent her to this hellhole.
The eggs keep breaching her and all thoughts of Red are rapidly replaced by her desire to procreate. Oh yes, that’s better. She will be a good mother. She will feed them, hug them and shower them with love.
Papyrus will understand in time. He will be a good uncle and, who knows, if luck is on her side, he can sire the next round of babies!
“Almost there…” Onionsan warns and Sans makes a sound reminiscent of a purr. How odd, she has never in her life done that sound. She can see and feel every single egg entering her. The sight is hypnotic and she can’t avert her eye lights from the spectacle unfolding between her legs. It feels so good. It feels like she’s fulfilling a purpose. Something that she’s built to do.
“goooood…” Sans answers back and Onionsan giggles tiredly. He doesn't say it but she sees the satisfaction in the male pouring his eggs into her. Yep. They both are enjoying it to no end.
Sans can’t stop rubbing her ecto. Her middle stretches so much that she can almost clearly make out every single round orb of potential inside her. She is now wondering when they will start moving or if he needs to pour seed afterward so they fertilize. Sans doesn’t believe they are fertile yet but they will soon be.
The last egg makes its way down Daddy’s “dick” into its mommy. Sans is full.
Onionsan is not done, however. He makes sure Sans has, at least, another two org*sms before he calls it a day and removes the ovipositor from Sans’ puss*. The liquid that lubricates the eggs for an easier insertion starts to pour out of Sans’ folds but it is not wasted as Onionsan quickly receives it with his tongue. Sans’ body quakes one more time as her mate takes what is his.
Sans touches her breasts. Each one of them has received a good massage and suctioned well past its limits. She wishes they have milk to spill but she knows she will have to wait for that. That doesn’t mean she can’t imagine them big and full of liquid, though. So much so that the ecto can’t hold it inside.
Her breasts will get ready for the babies to come and she will be ready to receive them.
“Such a wonderful momma you are! You took all of it on your first try! Congratulations momma! All the eggs will be fertilized in two weeks… after that time, we will see our babies in five months!” Onionsan starts to compliment Sans and she eats all that praise like a cold bottle of ketchup. Sans takes note of each timeframe and feels curious as to why they will take so long to be fertilized. She doesn't voice her concerns as her throat is killing her from all that shouting.
Sans feels herself drift down to dreamland, but! But! She doesn't want to stop petting her belly. It’s so pretty! So round! She wishes she had the strength to remain conscious and enjoy more of the sensation of being pregnant.
She loses the battle against Morpheus anyway.
Her body regretted it all the next day.
“augh… hurts.” The back of her hand tries to rub away the drowsiness to no avail. She lets the hand fall to its original position and it hits a plump bedding.
Sans knows this is not her bed back in her original universe thanks to it being bouncy, clean, and smelling a bit like sex. She decides to finally open her eyes once she feels conscious enough to deal with what she’s going to see. Aside from a bruised body, that is.
A round belly is what greets her.
Surprisingly, she doesn’t feel sad or upset at the sight, on the contrary, she smiles at her full tummy with a sigh. Still lying down in the unfamiliar bed, Sans rubs her belly with both hands. The sensation is amazing. It feels like an achievement. Sort of a goal you reach after years of effort (weird because she has never thought about being a parent until just recently). Under the circ*mstances, Sans rationalizes that the drive of being a mother being conquered is what makes her so calm. So pleased with herself.
Easy thoughts come into her mind and they obstruct the very real dangers of being a mother of this many babies in a world of “kill or be killed”. None of those seem to be important at the moment, as she rubs her belly, her mind is in a happy place. She caresses circles with her fingertips, changes patterns, does some elaborate loops in the taut ecto skin, and finally back to making circles.
She makes a heart just so they know she loves them.
But there is no “them” yet… no. Onionsan said the eggs she’s carrying will become proto-souls after two weeks. As they are right now, they are no better than empty gift boxes. So much potential to make a loved one happy but not just yet.
Sans smiles to herself one last time at the sight. Once those two weeks pass, she’ll be full of life. There is a tiny voice inside her head telling her that everything is over now but she decides it’s not worth her time. She loses track of time once again while looking at her accommodations.
The room she’s currently in must be on the second floor of the “palace” since she didn’t see it the previous day (or days, who knows at this point). The door is double the height she’s accustomed to. Only in the monster kingdom’s palace has she ever seen such an immense structure before, makes sense that Asgore and Toriel need the extra space to inhabit the place.
The color scheme is a pastel baby blue palette. Sans thinks it must be something about making the space pleasant to the eye rather than it being opulent as the size might suggest. Harsh corners are accompanied by delicate tapestry and embroidered artwork. It all looks like those human bedroom displays at malls. You know they are supposed to mimic a living space where someone actually exists outside the real world but you can’t ignore the “fakeness” from them.
She hears the wooden door slowly opening just as she is slowly being claimed by sleep.
