You absolutely loved the ruins, and doubted you would ever want to leave. Temmie, who berated your cowardance, was nothing compared to the hate and coldness you knew above. The ruins were vast and nearly empty, but they were welcoming. The monsters that did inhabit the area were welcoming as well,, once they got to know you and realized you weren’t going to harm them.

Asgore was as harmless as one could be, and by far the kindest, most loving being you had ever met. He tenderly cared for his garden, careful not to damage even one leaf as he strolled amongst the plants.

Your favorite thing though was to be curled up at Asgore's side as he sat in the overly large chair every evening, his massive arm wrapped around you and his deep voice rumbling whatever he was reading. His fur was soft, but his muscles firm beneath it, and he radiated more heat than the fire crackling in the fireplace.

You sat on the king’s throne. On the king’s lap. Asgore leaned back in his chair, hiding most of his face under his paw. Other hand clenching the armrest. If his cheeks weren’t covered in fur, he’d probably be blushing. You’re perched on his lap, nude, facing him. Legs spread around his waist, tucked between him and the throne. He let you remove most of his armor. Sizable bulge has formed in his pants. Grind your hips into him. Chokes on his own breath and lets out a low growl.

“Human…”