Bubble Frost Crave Novels & Stories

“No, I'm trying to bribe our baby so the cravings kick in. Hot chocolate, strawberry flavoured anything, vanilla flavoured sweet, imagine the taste Cristela. " “Fuck you." I said. “It's very sweet."

"My aunt wants to eat chocolate cupcakes. Please ask Leticia to make some for her...and for me" Crystal was too clever...instead of going herself to Leticia she ordered the twin witches with such authority that they showed curtsy to her and walked away. "What does it means when you crave for something?" Crystal's small hands caressed the belly of Pidge. "It means the babe wants to eat this," answered Pidge. "Oh, then...my cousin is fond of chocolate cupcakes. Just like me?" she spoke with such enthusiasm. And Pidge gave a smiling nod. "Then my cousin must be craving for some ice cream, too."

The craving of the week. I heard stories from Merigold, Lilly and the brothers about cravings. Some of the odd combinations they wanted. Like Lilly had to have ketchup on mashed potatoes for two weeks straight. Merigold was fried chicken and orange juice with Jace and Jax. With the girls she craved waffles with peanut butter and strawberries with a side of garlic pickles. I would have gotten Speed anything she wanted no matter how weird it was. I promise, but I’m so glad that the only craving Speed has was for sweets. She would eat them once in a while before she got pregnant but now she was eating them everyday. The biggest thing was ice creams and Merigold’s cookies. But all of that broug

“…Please tell me you’re not about to drink pickle juice with chocolate milk.” I turned slowly, guilty as a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “It’s called cravings. Don’t judge me.” He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His T-shirt clung to him in all the unfair ways, and his hair stuck up like he’d been in a bar fight with his pillow. He scratched the side of his beard, blinking blearily. “That’s not cravings, Amelia. That’s a cry for help.” I rolled my eyes, twisting the pickle jar open with a satisfying pop. “Go back to bed, caveman. You’re useless to me right now.”

Heart thumped steady, thrill of sneaking amplifying the ache low in my belly. Kitchen door swung soundless; I flicked the under-cabinet light low, a soft amber glow pooling on granite counters. Fridge hummed open—chill blasting my bare legs, goosebumps prickling thighs up to my mound. Grabbed a glass, twisted the cap off a sparkling water, fizz hissing eager. Gulped half down, water cold-trickling my chin, dripping onto my chest. The silk darkened instant where it hit, clinging translucent to my nipple, turning it to a hard, rosy bullet.

I don’t want this. The following morning, I woke up with one mission in my head to accomplish. The guide who was taking us to the mountain had stopped on the way to show us a hot and cold water stream that comes from the same route, but when they separated, one side became hot and the other cold. It felt unrealistic, but it is real. “I want to put my feet on it,” Scarlett said as she took off her shoes to feel the water. Her eyes lit up as she stepped on the cold water side. “Wow,” she smiled from ear to ear as she looked at the rest of us. "Michael, join me."

By the time the clock hit 3:30, my chest felt like a hollow drum, beating without purpose. I got up and wandered back to the kitchen. The mug from earlier still sat there, a ring of dried coffee at the bottom. I picked it up, washed it under the tap just to keep my hands busy. The water was freezing. It stung my skin, but I didn’t stop. I washed and scrubbed until the porcelain shone, like maybe if I could erase the stains from the mug, I could erase the cracks in my life. Back in the hallway, I stood in front of the empty hook again. My hand lifted as if to touch it, but I stopped myself. Touching it felt too much like admitting.

When Nesha finally pulled back, she wiped a stray tear from her cheek and beamed, her Luna radiance returning full force. "Now," Nesha declared, linking her arm through Emerald's and steering her toward the long wooden tables piled high with food. "Let's get a proper meal into you. I hear the Frost pack cooks completely outdid themselves this year, and I want to try some of this legendary blackberry cobbler before the warriors eat it all."

I needed to taste her, even if it had consequences like a forbidden fruit. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, beckoning me to meet them. I thought I was going to drown. I needed to hear her whimper, moan, or something. I grazed her lips with mine, forgetting why I was doing all of that to her in the first place. It was to tease her and not the other way around. But that had changed; it was now about me, her, and my craving.

“Now go, handle it quickly. I’m not waiting forever.” Rufus knelt beside her, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Okay, my queen. I’ll be back soon.” “Wait,” she called after him as he began to walk away. “Tell the cook to prepare halo-halo for us. I’ve been craving it.” “Halo-halo?” he repeated with a chuckle, turning to look at her. “Yes,” she said, opening her eyes just enough to meet his. “You know, shaved ice, sweetened beans, leche flan on top—it’s perfect for this weather.”