Novel & Cerita Jack Frost X Reader

“It is very beautiful. A firebird egg. I always knew that your spirit was strong. I can feel your soul in the egg, so full of potential. You will be the kindest goddess of all.” “And you will be the crankiest Father Frost the world has ever known.” Morozko laughed. “There is already a Father Frost. It is Jack Frost in English, technically. Like that awful Soviet film. There is already a Big Frost and he is Ded Moroz.”

It looked like a promising place to start, Julian decided as Luther pulled into the motel only ten buildings away. "Another bloody defeat," Vic muttered, his displeasure giving even more bite to his British accent. "Gwen Frost, you couldn't kil a Reaper to save your bloody life. " I narrowed my own eyes and glared at Vic, hoping he would get the message to shut up already before Logan and the others heard him. I didn't want to advertise the fact that I had a talking sword. I didn't want to advertise a lot of things about myself. Not at Mythos.

The wind howled through the narrow, snow-choked streets of Snowridge, as if warning anyone who dared to venture out into the deadly storm. Asha Frostheart, her face partially hidden beneath a fur-lined cloak, moved swiftly through the thick snowfall, her white wolf companion, Ghost, at her side. The blizzard's icy bite pierced through her layers of clothing, but her focus remained unbroken.

Jaxzim asked, completely ignoring Chassy's question. Frost just smirked devilishly. "I see you're a luminescent. Well, hello brother," Corbyn said. Jax don't see these men at their star but he really doesn't see anyone there. Only Austin and their Aikee. Mostly when they don't have a mission, they don't come home or never goes out their room so it's really confusing. Jax looked at Frost who can't say anything. "It looks like I got you, now" Frost just chuckled. "Don't worry, I won't harm her" then Frost faced Chassy "I'll see ya later," he said and winked, saluting at her before he vanished.

I smirked, flipping it open to the first page, 'Snowbound Enemies: A Hate-Fuck Holiday'. Fuck, the title alone had my cock stirring in my sweatpants. As I started reading her words in my deep rumble, her hand casually drifted to my thigh, nails tracing lazy circles. "I stumbled through the blizzard... Jax Coulter, the smug bastard..." Her story poured out, rivals turned sex-enemies, stripping in the cold, brutal hate-fucks in the snow. The dirty banter leaped off the page. "Take it, you thieving bítch, my cock's owning this pússy!" My voice grew rougher with each line, dick thickening painfully against the fabric as I pictured it, her as that fiery Kingston, me as the dominant Coulter, pound

Communicating: alive, engaged, buying time, probably going to die but fighting anyway. She tried to reach back. Kade severed it before full contact. But not before she sensed his message: survive, fight, don't look back. Two alphas, both severing connections to protect her. Both willing to die to buy her time. Raven got up and moved to the library. If she had seventy hours, she was using them to understand everything Darius hid from her. Everything her family died protecting. She started reading. At hour thirty-two, Elara found her. "You need to stop. You'll destroy your consciousness at this pace."

* The fantasy merged with the comments, one reader painting a scene of Jax returning, finding her like this, phone in one hand, fingers buried in the other, then joining, making her squirt across the keyboard. Her orgasm hit sudden and fierce, back bowing off the bed, a strangled cry escaping as her pussy spasmed, fresh wetness soaking the sheets. She rode it out, reading the flood of shared depravity, each one a spark to her sated but insatiable fire. Panting, Zelda dropped the phone, a wicked smile curving her lips. The tease worked readers hooked, fantasies unleashed in the comments below. Jax had left her marked, but this? This was her claiming the narrative. Drop yours now. What's your

We say our goodbyes and I toss my phone onto the couch next to me, looking around the room. It's quiet when Santos has the kids. Almost too quiet. And there's nothing to do. I've deep cleaned the entire apartment from top to bottom. I've done four loads of laundry and put it all away. I even threw dinner in the crockpot already, so my regular chores are done. I tap my fingers on my leg and the Kindle shoved between couch cushions catches my eye. Ooh. I could read for a bit. What is the name of that author I like? The one who writes about all those bearded brothers? Penelope Reads? Penny Reads? Penny Reid! That's it!

I wrote about the manipulation, the public appearances that were more performance than partnership, the way I’d felt trapped long before anyone knew it. Jaxon read everything. He didn’t flinch when I described the worst parts. Instead, he’d circle sentences and write comments like, “Expand on this feeling,” or “This will hit hard—keep it.” One night, after hours of typing, I realized I was staring at him more than my screen. He was sprawled in the armchair, reading through my latest chapter. The lamplight caught the sharp angles of his face, the faint crease between his brows as he focused.

'Warning- Hi, so I'm the author and I've come with a warning dear readers. This is in Jaxon's view, and you all know him to be a Mafia, which means this chapter will have discussions on illegal things. Things like rape, to trafficking and other things like that. I'm putting this warning for those who are sensitive to those stuff. So, beware…' Jaxon had to resist looking back to stare at her before finally turning the corners. How could one woman be so intriguing?