Flowey X Frisk Novels & Stories

CHARITY POV “Fuck.” Fletcher groans, his lips smashing to mine, arms pulling me closer. My fingers travel from his neck down to his shoulders, enjoying the way he shivers while I explore the definition and dips. His hand travels up my spine, driving me mad, wanting more of him. My hips roll against his hardness, separated by the fabric of his sweats. He continues his ascent, grabbing a fistful of hair, yanking my head back to give him better access to my neck.