Work Text:
⋆⊱༻𖥸༺⊰⋆
Flowery was anxious. When he took on this new form, he molded this ‘human’ body to be special for his person; to become a great comfort in his time of need and to love him more than anyone else. But the flower man, bathed in gold and deeply cherished by his king for almost two decades, could only do so much from behind a glass case.
When King Asgore was lonely, confiding in his plants instead of another lightner, Flowery would always listen to him. He was a true friend, the most loyal Asgore could ever ask for. He loved his king dearly and couldn’t stand watching the man’s life fall apart. The people he loved most were no longer there. His wife left him, the kids didn’t see him as much, and his best friend from the light world was sick.
Yet Flowery had so much love to give, as did the other six flowers. Asgore used to be so happy, and Flowery would do everything in his power to bring it back. Who says the power of love and friendship can’t change a man? In the dark world, anything is possible. Asgore could finally escape that horrible light world and find a more fruitful life with his family of flowers, where Flowery could give endless amounts of love to his king.
Flowery stood motionless in front of the shoji, where Asgore, alone and sulking, stood on the other side. The monster had left a scattered trail of papers throughout the castle halls, which, fortunately, led Flowery right to him. Of course, he was obsessing over that case again. That was all in the past. He hadn’t been a police officer in the light world for years, so why would he even bother anymore? Already, Flowery had failed at keeping his king happy. He could only blame himself for leaving Asgore alone, but the king’s frustration lingered in the air wherever they went. It wasn’t out of fear that Flowery left, but because he was simply asked to. Whatever his king wanted, the flower would still listen.
But after some time, it grew concerning. What kind of friend would he be if he didn’t at least make an effort to help? Flowery thought about distracting him with something more uplifting. Maybe a friendly face would be enough, or another gift that Flowery could make, or a fresh glass of orange juice. There was no time to waste. He threw open the sliding door without knocking, amping up his high energy and hopefully brightening the other’s mood as well.
“There you are, my king! It’s just me, your best buddy!~” he sang excessively like he was reading from a script.
Asgore did not reciprocate. He sometimes wasn’t the type to react strongly, a very calm, well-mannered lightner whose kindness was shown through actions instead of words. If there were ever a man who embodied pure love, it would be Asgore. That’s who Flowery had learned it from. But hearing him grumble as if he were annoyed was a little saddening to Flowery. Asgore lay down on his side, faced away from the door. Flowery had also just gifted him a beautiful fuzzy pink robe, which he wore while lying there in silence. Alone. His bed was crafted perfectly for a royal such as him. Surely, the king knew he didn’t need to sleep in the dark world, but after watching him spend every night on a worn mattress for years, it was the least Flowery could do to make Asgore a little happier. And knowing his king, leaving him alone to wallow in his misery would only make him more miserable.
Like the day when Asgore wept quietly as he polished Flowery’s glass case. It was the middle of the night. A restless one, filled with grief over his divorce and the family he once had been a part of. All because he obsessed over the pursuit of justice. His career was long gone now, leaving him to sell flowers just to make ends meet. The golden flower could only sit there and watch, listening to his king’s endless woes, unable to comfort him from behind the thin layer of glass. His petals furrowed, remembering the pain in Asgore’s eyes that spoke of guilt for letting it happen in the first place. Nothing would ever be the same after that. But Flowery thought of the bright side: now Asgore has a new family. One that will never leave him, or doubt him, or hate him. A family that loves him unconditionally.
Flowery loves him. More than anything.
He was there for the wedding, handed off in a rainbow bouquet that had been cherished since. He was there when they all moved into their new home. He blossomed with love—was cared for with love. He was a part of the family. And he bore witness to the best and, unfortunately, worst of Asgore’s life. Flowery couldn’t fix his problems in the light world, but he could give him a better one in the dark world.
All he had to do was let Asgore forget. Show him how much he loves his king, that he doesn’t need anyone else.
Straightening his back, he approached Asgore with quick, quiet steps and stood over his bedside.
“Need a friend by your side?”
Asgore briefly glanced at the flower man with a heavy sigh. It was still enough to know that he was in a bad mood. Flowery just wanted to see his face and make sure his eyes weren’t red and puffy again.
“Not now, Flowery. Just… Leave me be.”
The lowness of his voice made the flower’s chest ache. He couldn’t stand to watch his king like this—couldn’t leave him alone like this. Absolutely not. What kind of friend would Flowery be if he couldn’t make his king smile? It didn’t matter what he was upset about this time. Whether it was the case or his broken marriage. All that mattered was keeping his king occupied with something else. Asgore just needed someone to love him again.
Flowery tilted his head and neatly folded his hands together. “Not feeling well? I can help. Can I get you some tea?”
Asgore’s loppy ears perked ever so slightly, and Flowery expected that. Of course, his king can’t turn down a warm cup of tea. He knows everything that Asgore likes. He finally turned around and sat up with a slight hunch, scratching his auburn beard in thought.
“Well… That would be nice, actually. Thank you.”
Flowery’s heart skipped a joyful beat.
“Anything for my king!”
Cherry blossoms whirled around him, and he disappeared in a gust of mysterious wind before immediately reappearing on the other side of the room with a tray of tea in hand. He set the tray down and poured the fresh tea into a dainty cup right away, offering it to the king, whose attention shifted to the drink the moment he caught its scent. Asgore’s nose twitched at the pleasant aroma, and Flowery smiled ear to ear in return. He already knew what kind of tea to bring—he knew his king better than anyone. Asgore took a small sip and hummed.
“Is this chamomile?” His brows perked with another sip. “Oh… With honey?”
“Your favorite.”
“You always seem to know these things.”
Flowery’s smile gleamed as he propped himself on the edge of the bed, inching closer and inviting himself into Asgore’s bubble. “How do you like your new flowerbed?”
“Ah, yes. It is very comfortable,” The king responded with a playful tone, sprinkled in with something else that Flowery couldn’t catch. “I can’t even bring myself to leave it.”
Flowery was tempted to ask about the documents, but Asgore had been preoccupied with them for a while. Reminding him would undo all this effort. Besides, the king looked exhausted—the circles under his eyes seemed heavier than before. Maybe this world wasn’t as ideal as Flowery thought. Or perhaps he had to try to relieve Asgore’s stress by his own means.
One thing he knows Asgore misses dearly is physical affection. Early in the marriage, Flowery would watch the couple cuddling on the couch whenever he was placed on a nearby windowsill. They were at ease, in love, and comforted by each other’s presence as time went on without a care in the world. No fights, no chaos… just love. Love that Flowery could give him too. He would always be just a little jealous when Asgore was all lovey-dovey with Toriel. He wanted to be embraced by those big, fuzzy arms too, even if it didn’t mean anything special as it did for Toriel. It didn’t have to. Asgore was happier then, and Flowery didn’t have room to be selfish when his king mattered much more.
“You look a little lonely. Need a cuddle buddy?” Flowery asks in a softer, gentler tone.
Asgore blinked with tired eyes, a little taken aback, or even avoidant. Though he should’ve expected that kind of thing from Flowery by now. He was always keen on pleasing the king, completely willing to do anything to achieve that. Cuddles were never off the table!
“Flowery…” he said hesitantly. “I think I am fine.”
“Don’t worry! My human body is very cuddly!”
Asgore continued drinking his tea as if he were trying to ignore him. But Flowery’s a little too persistent. He slides in closer so they’re touching shoulder to shoulder.
“My king. I can give you whatever you need. You don’t have to worry about anything. Relax and let your best friend keep you company!”
Flowery rested a hand on the king’s shoulder and silently watched him ponder while he took slower sips from his teacup. Asgore sighed through his nose and cleared his throat.
“…Only for a little while.”
Flowery cheered silently in his head. Without missing a beat, he nestled up right beside Asgore’s fuzzy chest and wrapped one arm around his chubby middle. Even though Flowery wasn’t short, he was compared to the monster’s giant build. He didn’t mind it one bit. The flower happily snuggled up to his king like a big pillow. But something was still missing. Asgore only lay there, staring at the blank ceiling with half-lidded eyes and hardly any intent to rest. Flowery would never put his own selfish needs first, but what kind of cuddle would it be without being tangled together?
“Hey, Gorey. Goregore.”
“Hm?”
“Can you put your arms around me too?~” The flower asked a little too excitedly. He even started kicking his feet behind him like a schoolgirl.
After Asgore finished his drink, he slowly set the cup aside. Flowery was right; he did look a lot more relaxed. Especially now that his best friend was there for him. But Asgore still seemed a little apprehensive, or even annoyed, whether it was because of his bad mood or not, Flowery couldn’t tell.
“If I do, I am going to crush you.” He half-jests.
“No problem for me. I have strong human flesh now!”
Asgore lay on his side as two sturdy arms caged around the younger man’s thin frame and pulled him in close. Flowery felt like a stuffed bear, held with tender care and love, and his human heart raced with happiness. What a dream he was living.
As he leaned closer towards Asgore’s chest, his golden cheeks felt hot. The king smelt so sweet this close and radiated much warmth, too. His squishy chest and belly made for the perfect set of pillows to cling to. The scent of cherry blossoms and honey in his snowy fur made Flowery’s heart bounce around the vines and petals that make up his body. It wasn’t just happiness, but a strange fuzzy feeling that traveled from head to toe.
He found himself burying his nose further into Asgore’s fluffy neck, earning a low, satisfying purr from the king in return. Flowery was glad to see his king reacting. He could listen to every inhale and exhale, every stuttered beat of his strong soul, as if it were the only thing that mattered. He left a few kisses in between nuzzles, showing how much he cherished and admired this lovely moment. He didn’t care if he got fur in his mouth; being together like this was all he ever wanted. No, not wanted… It’s what Asgore deserved.
The king’s robe loosened open just enough for Flowery to easily slip his hands inside. His hands wrapped around this mountain of a man and dug into the expanse of Asgore’s back, a hint of possessiveness in his grip. The flower was glad he could run his fingers freely through the knots in Asgore’s fur, down to the curly strands of auburn chest hair, and savor all of its beauty without a hassle. If this was the love he’d learned so much about—in the stories that Asgore would read to them for many nights—then it was more amazing than he could’ve ever imagined. He would’ve gladly stayed like that until the day he inevitably wilted.
But his legs unknowingly curled inward. Heat wasn’t just spreading to his face, but all around his warm human shell. His heart couldn’t stop racing, and breathing grew more difficult—more hot. Flowery sensed something unusual coiling inside of him, like an ache just below his waist. He could only describe it as happiness, but he also had a feeling there was something else he couldn’t quite place.
Suddenly, Asgore’s nose twitched, followed by a quiet, suppressed sneeze.
“What is that…?” He asked, confused.
Flowery paused in thought, and for the first time, he couldn’t respond. With pursed lips, he turned his face away from Asgore to avoid it, an embarrassed smile curling up the corner of his mouth. If this was what he thought it was, it wouldn’t be easy to explain away. He couldn’t control it as it dispersed into the shared air around them, followed by an intoxicating smell. The king leaned into Flowery’s neck this time, sniffing and scoping out the origin of whatever this scent was. The flower man gasped at the sudden heat of Asgore’s breath around his soft petals.
“Ahh— h-hey! That tickles!” He flinched and trembled in the monster’s arms.
He couldn’t stop himself from feeling like this. Asgore’s snout, searching around his hair and neck without warning, just made him spew even more of it. Vines twisted in his gut as something bloomed between his legs. This body was far too sensitive whenever he let his guard down, like he would for his king. Yet strangely, he wanted more of it. He shouldn’t want it. Not unless the king wanted it too.
“Flowery… Is that pollen?” Asgore’s tone became gentler, asking with pure curiosity.
Flowery’s fabricated heart stopped while he tried to brush it off. Certainly he would know; Asgore has very keen senses, but it’s still embarrassing to release so much pollen in front of his king! They’d never been that physically close before, and Flowery couldn’t predict it happening so soon. He just hoped it wasn’t irritating Asgore’s nose too much.
“Heh, sorry! It happens!”
Asgore’s voice deepened again, “Does that mean…”
A large paw crawled up underneath Flowery’s clothing, the pollen’s scent seeping out and far more potent than before. His soft skin was too delicate, and the uncontrollable release of his reproductive substances didn’t make it any better. The touch made his petals fluster and heat rise to his head, his color melting into a yellowish pink—he didn’t want it to stop. Asgore damn near manhandled him when stroking from his middle to his lower back. And he wanted it to keep going.
He wasn’t entirely oblivious to the concept of intimacy. He knew a few things about how monsters reproduce—how Asgore does. Sometimes reproduction isn’t even the end goal. Touching and cuddling… It’s another part of love that Flowery wished to know. But he’d never experienced it before. He didn’t know what it could possibly feel like.
He realized now: It felt good.
He was sensitive, hot, entangled with a need to get closer and soak in all of Asgore’s warmth. To feel something more intense. If snuggling up with the lightner he loves was all it took for him to send pollen into the air, then he must be more human than he thought.
“M-my king…” Flowery stuttered, “Not… not sure why I’m pollinating! I just like cuddling with my best friend!”
To Flowery’s surprise, Asgore showed a kind smile and chuckled. He smiled! He’s smiling! Just like that, Flowery’s concerns faded. He was very proud of himself and returned a smile of his own.
“Yes. I figured as much. Though I did not expect it.”
A beat of silence passed between them as the flower struggled to pull himself together. But Asgore’s touches never stopped. The hand dragged down Flowery’s stomach to his waist, mindlessly feeling the curve between his chest and hips. There was a deep rumble in Asgore’s chest as his hands roamed along maple skin, and Flowery had to wonder if his pollen was to blame for this sudden affection. It still seemed to be helping him relax at least, and if the king was relaxed, so was Flowery.
The massive palm found its way beneath the flower’s waistband, perfectly fitting the curved shape of his ass. Being touched there was unfamiliar territory, but he didn’t mind it. He squirmed a bit while tightening his grip on Asgore’s arm, and spoke just above a whisper as the smile never once left his face.
“Hah… Do you like it?”
Thick fingers slowly trailed back up Flowery’s spine, prompting him to arch into the pressuring touch. It reminded him of when Asgore once brushed his stem with a weightless finger, careful not to damage such a delicate flower before watering it. He was just making sure Flowery was staying healthy and standing tall, but it was something he could never forget. Asgore was always so gentle, so kind, so loving. Flowery desperately wanted to be just like him. He wanted to know love, wanted to feel it, wanted to give it. He had to return all of the love his king had given to him. Like it was his sole duty.
Asgore’s hand threaded into the bushel of hair atop the flower man’s head. Flowery wasn’t used to having his perfect hair touched and played with, but he liked it anyway, so long as his king was enjoying it. As his hand dragged down along his jaw and cupped his cheek, Asgore placed the other hand around his waist.
“Yes. I suppose so.”
Flowery noticed Asgore’s cheeks looked a little redder than before. He didn’t seem as stressed, so Flowery must’ve done something right. The bigger of the two leaned in even further, the intensity of their mutual gaze growing ever faster. A clawed thumb stroked his freckles and then traced over his thin lips, which parted to the king’s delight. Flowery batted his long lashes as a silent request, until the gap closed and they shared a kiss.
Then many after.
They were small kisses at first, just a few pecks in between nose nuzzles. Just like how he used to kiss Toriel. It made his human heart flutter. Did Asgore see him that way? Flowery nuzzled back and gave small, tender kisses in return as best he knew how to. On the chin, the nose, the corners of his fanged mouth. But Flowery had so much more to give. He poked his tongue out and licked fuzzy lips, cheekily testing the waters and seeing how far he could go. And Asgore, surprised, returned with a deeper kiss. Flowery made a strangled noise once his thick tongue breached his mouth, and the king reacted with a hefty groan. Flowery breathed in the floral sweetness of chamomile as he followed the kiss with urgency, but Asgore’s mouth was much larger than his. He couldn’t take any control when his tongue invaded his mouth like he was trying to eat him, and yet it still felt just as amazing while persistent hands explored his body. He clung tightly to his king, digging his nails into thick fur and finding leverage on hard muscles beneath aging fat.
Just after parting, Asgore lowered his head and left delicate kisses along Flowery’s neck. Teeth gently grazed along the center of his throat, and his breath hitched at the friction. He didn’t realize how sensitive he was there until the contact made him jump, his human heart skipping at the attention. It was a little surprising. What had he done to make his king become so infatuated all of a sudden? He was supposed to be the one giving attention and love right now, not receiving. But if this is what his king wanted to do, he would follow.
“Beautiful,” Asgore mouthed against his skin in between the soft caress of his furry lips.
Even though he wasn’t used to it, his imaginary human tail was wagging at the praise. He could only ever give Asgore the credit for his beauty. After tending to him for so long, keeping just a small, golden flower like him alive and cared for—his beauty is a mark of Asgore’s true kindness.
“That’s thanks to you, my king,” Flowery said sincerely, melting in the cusp of Asgore’s paw. His face flushed red from ear to ear, and his gaze met Asgore’s again, this time with wide, glittering gold eyes.
“Now, where is that pollen coming from, hm?” Asgore teased as a claw lightly traced circles into the flower’s chin, “Could you show me?”
Flowery may as well have been a rose with how red he’d gotten. He slipped off his pants without any hesitation and kicked them away, then pressed his bare thighs together just like he’d seen in those magazines Asgore would have hidden away; the ones with half-naked men on the cover, posing suggestively. Flowery’s naked form subtly imitated it: a lean figure, curvy waist, his legs shining in the faintest of light, cute freckles dotted in several places as a final touch. For years, he’d been wishing for this exact moment: to be the love that Asgore needed. To be touched like a lover, to fulfill his king’s desires, to be a blank slate meant to be painted upon. Excitement rushed through him rapidly as he dreamt it.
He felt the weight of Asgore’s stare, and it was incredibly rewarding. If he could catch his eyes like that, then he was doing something right. The king did the honor of parting thighs, big fluffy hands gently caressing the soft surface. One hand wrapped around almost the entirety of Flowery’s thigh and pried them open to search for what was between them. The scent became sweeter once he did.
His biology was more human now, but it functioned much the same as it did when he was just a flower, and changing it to the king’s needs wasn’t a problem. Nectar oozed out of his pistil and stuck to his inner thighs like honey. He figured that an imitation of a human vagina would be easier to navigate for his king. The petals below were so wet, even exposing them like this had him quivering. And the pollen that swarmed the air came from that very source.
But Asgore’s growing pause and lack of response had Flowery feeling a bit anxious. “Something wrong, buddy?”
He blinked a few times. “...It is not what I was expecting.”
Flowery’s heart dropped, but he fought hard to remain composed. He thought this was what Asgore preferred. He knew he had his own stamen. Maybe he was hoping Flowery would have one too? A mental note was made. Whatever the case, he had to focus on what worked best for his king.
“Oh! Okay! I’ll reshape it to your needs! Whatever you—”
“No, no. It is just fine. May I touch you?” Asgore asked politely.
“…Yes!”
He reached below to stroke Flowery’s soft folds with a single finger. Once it made contact, the flower jumped at how soft it was against his petals. The pad of his thumb rubbed tenderly at his short stamen while another finger prodded against his opening, causing more sticky fluid to spill in the king’s hand. Flowery still gripped Asgore’s arm, fingers digging into the perfect mass of fat and muscle that he’d always admired from a distance. He trembled in place but didn't shy from letting his happiness be heard when a shaky, high-pitched whine escaped him. It’s not like he could hold it back for long anyway.
“Such a lovely flower. You are perfect.”
Perfect. Perfect! Flowery made a soft noise between each breath that he’d never made before. He was so, so happy. Almost manic. The digit somehow found its way inside, and his vined muscles quickly tightened around it as he threw his head back.
“Ah—!” Flowery gasped at the intrusion, but as he adjusted around it, it felt really, really good.
He noticed that something in Asgore’s pajama pants was also taking a thick shape. To some extent, Flowery knew what that meant. The few nights he watched his king do this same thing with his wife and by himself were burned into his memory. His arousal. Kissing, touching, and cuddling naked were how some lightners make love. Flowery could feel it hot and heavy in front of him. Were he and Asgore going to make love? He really hoped so. He’d always dreamt of it. He could finally fulfill his purpose of curing the king’s loneliness.
Asgore slid in all the way to the knuckle, burying deep inside the flower. He panted at the thickness stretching him, but it made a fuzzy warmth coil in his belly like never before. Flowery tightened up, and as his hole twitched around the king’s finger, he was rewarded for doing so. The king steadily pumped his hand in and out, stretching open Flowery’s pistil while the outpouring nectar soaked into Asgore’s fur and onto the sheets. He seemed completely unfazed by the mess, though. Flowery whimpered at the experienced motions of his thick fingers, even though he did feel a little guilty for soiling the king’s bed.
“Oh—Mmm, Gorey… Y-you want to make love? With me?~” Flowery’s legs quivered as his body responded kindly to the affection.
The king chuckled softly and furrowed his brows with apprehension, “Well, uh… It has been a while since I’ve done that.”
“But if it makes you happy, my king… Then it would make me happy too.”
Flowery tried not to sound too desperate, but he couldn’t help it. The breathiness in his needy voice was unmistakable. He had to do this. He had so much love to give. He couldn’t just stand there anymore, watching his beloved king lie awake almost every night and cry, because the people who once looked up to him decided to turn their heads away. And how dare they. He couldn’t bear it any longer. This was his one chance to show Asgore that he didn’t need her anymore. Flowery could be everything and more.
After some thought, Asgore nodded, then used his other paw to tease along Flowery’s flat pelvis before tugging at the hem of his vest.
“Will you take these off?”
Flowery didn’t hesitate. He stripped down, unbuttoning his vest and then his blouse, just as his king had asked, revealing the smooth and silky skin beneath. He couldn’t stop himself from ogling Asgore’s bulge that seemingly kept getting bigger with every glance.
“So we’ll do it? We’ll make love?” He couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face.
“Ah, well. I think…” Asgore hesitated, seemingly not wanting to validate the word ‘love’. Briefly, Flowery’s smile wavered. The gentleness of the king’s concerns was expected, but Flowery also understood why the hesitation was there.
"I'm a little too big for you.” He said solemnly.
Flowery answered right away with unmatched confidence. “It’s no problem!”
“Are you sure?”
He pulled back the waistband of his pajama pants and… Well, he wasn’t lying. Flowery watched his monstrous stamen bounce out from the confines, standing tall and proud. It was not too tall, but it had a massive girth. Unlike a flower, it was fleshy and veined and made for someone his own size. He knew Asgore was big. He’d seen his ‘cock’ before (he’d heard it referred to as such), but from a distance in his glass asylum, it never occurred to him that it would be this big. Compared to his pliant body, it was almost as thick as one of his legs.
Flowery looked up at Asgore and then back down, sweating nervously despite the bright smile on his face.
“Nothing I can’t do for you, buddy.”
He was held in place, a firm paw gripping him like it didn’t want to let go. And without warning, Asgore slipped another finger inside of him, aided well by the slickness. He threw a hand over his mouth and winced from the burning stretch, but his vines reshaped and adjusted around it. He was too determined to give up. Even though he was naturally delicate, Flowery found himself enjoying being touched roughly. He’d never enjoyed something so much. He loved the fullness the king's fingers gave him, how gentle and reverent they were, careful not to hurt him despite how hard they pushed and pushed. Besides, Flowery’s body was made for his king to enjoy. It was fine if it hurt. He wanted it to hurt.
Asgore’s tone shifted slightly to something less recognizable. “You are quite persistent, aren’t you?”
When fingers sank deeper into his drenched heat, Asgore thrusted them in and out as the heel of his paw pressed against the sweet spot atop his sex.
“How does this feel?” He asked carefully, which made Flowery’s heart throb.
His inner walls fluttered around the king’s thick hand as his wetness echoed across the room.
“G-g-good!” He whined with a voice crack. “Never better!”
Something sudden struck him like lightning bolts. He tightened up, muscles contracting around the stretch of Asgore’s fingers, and when they curled up at just the right spot…
“Ngh—Ahh!!”
Flowery’s mouth hung wide open as he released short spouts of nectar, splashing all over Asgore’s arm and chest. A wave of embarrassment crashed over him at the same time. Legs shaking from the aftershock, his short claws dug into Asgore’s arm. He had no clue what just happened. He just couldn’t deny how incredible it felt. All he could do was apologize.
He shied away, “S-sorry, Gorey! I didn’t mean to…”
Fingers quickened their pace, pistoning into him with a stronger need. Asgore suddenly shoved Flowery onto his back and crashed into each other’s mouths again. The assertiveness made the flower’s eyes shoot wide open, but he couldn’t help but take everything given to him.
Asgore’s voice softened in between kisses, “It is more than okay.”
This time, they were less composed. They drowned in each other’s breaths, heat spreading further and further. Flowery moaned unrestrained in his king’s mouth while the crushing weight of Asgore’s body pinned him there. He gasped once his mouth was freed again, already missing the sweet taste he’d grown so accustomed to. The king’s fingers retracted with sticky sap coating his entire hand, and Flowery whined at the loss. As two large paws placed themselves around his waist, Asgore teasingly rubbed his cock on the flower’s thigh with the slow gyration of his hips. Like an imitation of what it would be like to have it inside of him. Asgore’s thumbs pressed into the flower’s hipbones and rubbed kind circles into them. The king heaved like a thirsty man in the desert.
“I will be gentle.”
“Don’t hold back! I’m tougher than I look!” He said with a little too much excitement and selfishness to his tone.
“Please, lift your legs for me.”
And that’s what he did. He raised his legs to cling tightly to Asgore’s body, who lined himself against Flowery’s lower petals and slowly pushed inside of him. Slick nectar aided the intrusion, and it slowly breached with little effort. Flowery gripped the bedsheets and held on his tongue as he mewled pleasantly. The stretch burned, but he didn’t care. The further the monster buried himself in, the more warmth and fullness completely melted Flowery inside and out. At the halfway point, he wriggled in place, unable to keep himself grounded from how amazing he felt. It was so hot, so sticky; he was so full of his king and still couldn’t have enough. He felt like he was going to burst at the seams if anything more filled him.
The air grew thick with the scent of his king. Their combined sweat, musk, and pollen infiltrated his senses and filled his head with smoke. Flowery needed to soak it all in, as selfish as it sounded.
“Mmhn— M-my king! How— d-do you like it?”
“Ah… You are very tight.” Asgore winced as if he’d just been pricked by a needle. “…And wet.”
“That’s… good?”
“Indeed.”
Asgore pulled his hips back just before thrusting himself back in, both of their hips flush together. It caused a wet plap when they connected, and Flowery felt like the air had been knocked out of him. His king let out an unusual growl, something that he normally hears when Asgore has a temper, but this time it seemed different.
Having those massive hands tighten around his waist, slowly pushing in and out with patience; the sensation was so much more intense. Wet, sticky slapping against his stretched pistil to the king’s stamen and moving to a gentle rhythm. The deeper his thrusts, the more noticeable a bulge around Flowery’s lower belly became; his smaller body shaping anew to make room for his king. The lovemaking was as tender as a sweet dream. More pollen spilled into the air, and he could notice the shakiness in Asgore’s heated breath along with every restrained thrust, pollen filling his senses and clouding his mind.
His hands gripped Flowery’s waist tightly as he subtly increased the pace. Asgore groaned as he thrust into Flowery with a little less poise, forcing his way in and out and panting heavily under his breath. There was still a hint of frustration that Flowery could pick up on. His body tensed without meaning to, and earned him a more pained groan from his king. Asgore paused and rested a hand atop the bump he’d formed on the flower’s belly.
“Relax.” Asgore snarled. Perhaps not in a cruel way, or at least Flowery didn’t interpret it like that.
Briefly, he pulled away, making Flowery whine and pout for a moment, but he was merely readjusting Flowery’s position. Of course, he’d let the king use him in whichever way was most comfortable. He’d never argue about that.
Asgore turned him to his stomach, shoving his way back even deeper into his tight, wet heat. At the same time, a pair of fingers forced themselves into Flowery’s mouth. The same fingers were soaked in his nectar, and Flowery licked up his own sweet fluids without caring. Little fangs bit down on the hand, gently, and continued his pathetic whining even after being gagged. He could hear his king’s breathing with every juicy slap while the king’s body heat warmed Flowery’s back. There were so many things he wanted to say right now, even with his tongue held.
Yes, my king! It feels so good! Thank you for making love to me! See it now? You don’t need anyone else when you have me! I love you so, so much! Please, don’t stop!
When the fingers retracted from his mouth, he still chased them, a thick string of saliva dribbling down his chin and onto the bedding. He tried to speak with all the sensations happening at once, his throat hoarse and dry from how fast he was losing stamina.
“Mmm-m-my ki—”
Claws pricked the flower’s skin, burying into it like knives. Flowery couldn’t hold back his pathetic whining, so he bit into the pillow below him. He knew he would be taken good care of, but something told him that Asgore was getting lost in his head. The pace was still somewhat gentle, but the ripping of his petals frightened him. Flowery had never been frightened; not by his king. Not by someone so gentle, nurturing, and yet…
He liked being scared.
Asgore must’ve realized what he was doing, loosening his painful grip and pulling back again, but not completely. Another harsh growl of contemplation rolled out of the king, sending a shiver down Flowery’s vines. Did he make his king mad? Was this part of the process? Was he unsatisfied with this after all? Flowery turned his head to take a glance.
“G… Goreyyy… ❤︎ ” The flower man smiled at him, masking his fears like he always does.
The warm, furry belly resting atop Flowery’s back felt nice. It was the safest embrace he could name, even if his king was not perfect; he didn’t need to be. Flowery needed to be perfect. Asgore leaned down and nuzzled Flowery’s hair, pressing a delicate kiss to his temple. It made his heart do laps around his chest.
“My flower.” The king purred against leafy gold hair.
Flowery melted at the nickname. Yes, I am your flower, my king. I’ll be so perfect. I’ll do anything for you. Any—
“Do you think you can take this?”
Flowery paused, confused.
“Take… Huh?”
“My knot.”
Oh!
It was emphasized by the king pushing back in, pressing something hard and different against his heat. And big. That wasn’t there before. He’d completely forgotten about this part of monsters and their reproduction.
“Apologies, I should have warned you before I…” It was clear in his voice that Asgore regretted this.
The thick, swollen knot at the base of Asgore’s cock didn't seem feasible to fit inside. It wasn’t as squishy as the rest of him. Flowery was already stretched wider than he thought was possible. He couldn’t even see how big it was, only felt it. And still he knew it could actually tear him apart. But he didn’t give up. He could use his fake stats to make himself stronger. Surely, that would work, right? He could mold his body into anything the king wanted. He could be the perfect body. The perfect lover. Nothing could possibly stop him.
“I can take it! Leaf it to me!”
…
It went on for several minutes.
The knot tried to burrow its way inside but couldn’t. Asgore struggled and huffed, but refused to push any further, as if he were holding back from doing any more damage.
Tears welled up in Flowery’s eyes and spilled down to his cheeks. He couldn’t control these emotions coursing through him, the passion he felt and the need for his king to be satisfied. He wasn’t being good enough. He wasn’t being perfect. His body wouldn’t comply and just accept it. Even his nose dripped through the weak crying. He wasn’t supposed to be crying. Perfect flowers don’t cry. But he needed this more than anything.
Asgore heard the stuttered sobs and immediately stopped where he was.
“Flowery?” He stood in place, voice coated in concern. “I’m sorry. Am I hurting you?”
“N-no! I’m okay!” Flowery said with an endearing smile, despite his sniffling.
No, I’m not. I really love you, but I’m so useless.
Asgore pulled away slightly and turned Flowery’s head to face him.
“If you are hurting, do not hide it from me.”
The assertion and seriousness in Asgore’s voice made Flowery’s heart flutter. He was already missing the closeness he just had.
I know you can’t stay forever. You have to take care of us in your world.
He blinked his eyes open to look at Asgore through his cloudy vision.
You’ve shown me what love feels like.
Flowery’s lip quivers. “…It doesn’t hurt.”
It feels really good.
“I’m just happy. Please… Don’t worry. Please, use me as you wish.”
I know I won’t feel anything like this again.
Because I’m just a useless flower.
So, just this once…
“P-please…?”
…Let me feel like something useful.
Flowery couldn’t understand Asgore’s expression. Whether his brows knotted with concern or pity, Flowery was just serving his purpose. He was giving his king the sweetest dream he could possibly offer. And maybe his king would listen to it. Even if Asgore didn’t love Flowery the way he does, he would still give his undying devotion no matter what.
But deep down, he still wanted Asgore to feel the same.
He gently planted himself on top of Flowery, the large body cocooning him. While his paws cradled Flowery’s waist, Asgore slowed his pace and pushed the swollen base of his cock against the flower’s pliant pistil again. He tried to soothe Flowery by rubbing his bruised hips like a silent apology.
“No. I cannot do that. You are just a flower.”
I’m not weak. I’m not useless. I can be more than that. I can be anything you want. You can close your eyes… You can pretend I’m anyone else. I just want you to smile.
Flowery let his desperation slip.
“Please, my king. I want it… I can take it. See how much I’ve already taken?” He emphasized his plea by grinding back into it, making his king’s paws tighten around him. “Touch me, use me, hurt me if you want! I don’t care! I’m—I’m whatever you want me to be!!”
Asgore remained in thought, but Flowery could sense the guilt in his eyes. He didn’t want his king to suffer guilt anymore. He didn’t need pity. He needed his king to feel loved. But Asgore only grimaced at him.
“Determined little thing, you are.” He grumbled with a raspiness to it. “If that is what you wish.”
Flowery should’ve been prepared for it, but he wasn’t. Asgore pounded into him unrestrained and fast, pushing with a force suited to Asgore’s strength. The oxygen left Flowery’s human lungs, leaving him with weak hiccups instead of moans.
“Y-yes, yes, p-ple—ease…”
Flowery gasped and pleaded, his voice pitching higher and taking so much more than he was supposed to. The king’s arms wrapped around him tight, one restraining him by his full belly and the other looped around his head. His cheeks pressed against hard triceps that secured him. Strangely, this embrace felt more comfortable. He was caged in the strong arms of someone he loved, while his lower half ached and yearned for his king to fill him completely. There was no need to move much, anyway. All Flowery had to do was be good.
He felt pressure deep inside, Asgore reaching into places Flowery didn’t know existed. He heard a pop as the mass he’d so heavily anticipated breached into his pistil. At the same time, another opening was breached, past a tight ring of muscle deep inside of his belly. He barely even felt it, not at that moment. But the searing pain caught up to him within seconds. Flowery clawed at the bedsheets and screamed in silence before letting out another weak cry. More dew drops streaked down his hot, freckled cheeks as his voice came out weak.
“Ah— Hng— Yes!! G-Gorey!! I’m… I feel—“
His petals were ripping, and all he could do was try to repair his delicate form with new vines and magic. But he could hardly focus on anything with how intense this sensation was. He clenched around it pitifully, eyes rolling back and lids fluttering as pleasure washed over him. He couldn’t describe it, only felt the intensity in waves and reveled in this new human euphoria. At the same time, something else came out. Whether it was nectar or pollen didn’t matter—it drenched Asgore’s cock and spilled into a sticky puddle beneath him. A pleased rumble rolled out from Asgore’s chest. He felt like he was going to pass out, but he had to keep pushing on for his king’s sake.
“—good… Wha… What did I…”
Asgore had to have felt the power in his orgasm, growling uncontrolled from the constricting tightness he’d buried himself in. But Flowery hadn’t been pollinated by his king yet. He’d be devastated if after all this he still couldn’t give that pleasure back. He’d be completely useless. The king stayed still, tenderly holding Flowery’s head in his arm and rubbing circles into his sore abdomen.
“It’s okay. Just… Let it calm down.”
The softness in his voice sounded like he was talking to something small and scared. It helped Flowery relax a little, but he couldn’t veer off of this path he’d set for himself. So he ground his hips flush against Asgore’s heavy waist and felt him pulse again. Mindlessly, he was fucking himself on the swollen knot, making his king suck in a hitched breath and groan.
“Oh, God.” He mumbled under his breath.
A burst of heat slowly filled his belly. It felt like he was being stuffed with liquid, and he knew it had to be his king’s. Only it didn’t stop. The warmth kept flooding in, the bulge in his belly thickening outward to contain all of it while he clamped down violently on Asgore’s cock. He wanted every last drop like he would wilt if he didn’t take it all. The king made a noise that Flowery had never heard from him. He couldn’t tell if fangs were bared out of pain or pleasure or both, but feeling Asgore’s labored breath beat against his ear told him enough. Flowery did something right.
Asgore heaved while drops of his sweat soaked into Flowery’s back. The flower man tried to move, but cried at the tearing stretch of his petals. The king swiftly pulled him back in and kept him grounded.
“Do not move too much. It will hurt, but it’ll go down after a little while.”
Asgore’s shoulders fell as he kept his arms loosely attached to his muse.
“I’ve… made a mistake.” His voice turned somber, and Flowery frowned. “I apologize. I should not have—”
“It’s okay! I’m okay! I jus’ love serving my king! I love—”
Flowery pulled back his words.
“I love… making you happy.” He sounded more meek that time. “…Are you happy?”
The long pause left Flowery suspended. He thought he was going to burst if his king said anything other than—
“I am happy. Thank you.”
Flowery let out the breath he was holding, his human heart still aching profusely.
He didn’t sound like it.
He didn’t sound happy.
He sounded sad.
And yet, Asgore continued leaving gentle kisses against Flowery’s temple. Hollow, empty kisses not of love, but of obligation—of the need to take responsibility.
Still, Flowery felt for a moment like he was walking on air. He didn’t feel like a flower when they made love. He felt human. He hurt like a human, cried like a human, loved like a human. And just like that—it was gone in an instant. All that remained was the pollen clinging to their skin, the gentle warmth of Asgore holding him in a fake lover’s embrace. It felt so real. But none of it was. It would never be. Flowery could only cling to hopes and dreams, the very thing that held him together in the first place.
Was it really Asgore’s fault? He was just lonely. He just needed a friend. He needed someone’s love. Or… he just needed a distraction. It didn’t matter which one was right. Flowery’s purpose was served halfway. That was acceptable enough, he supposed.
“...You’re welcome, my king.”
But the lingering agony would never fully dissipate. If only he wasn’t a useless flower, he could make his king happy again. Flowery mouthed unspoken words. He could only whisper into the air so it would not leave another burden for his king:
I love you.
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