Booktok Ice Hockey Novels & Stories

I grabbed my two friend’s arms and dragged them out of the lunch room to our next class. I had to hang around after school, waiting for Jake and Liam to finish their hockey practice. I snuck into the rink and hid at the back so I wouldn’t be seen. We weren’t allowed in here during practice because their coach said that girls distracted the players. I loved to watch their hockey games; there was just something about the way they glided over the ice so fast and gracefully. They were doing sprints at the moment, skating from one line to the other as fast as they could, then they had to dribble a puck around a load of cones, and finally they were all taking turns shooting at the goal, with my br

The rink was empty, except for the faint scraping of skates against the ice. Mila pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders, her breath visible in the chilled air. She had stayed late to check the equipment, organize some notes, and make sure everything was ready for the next day’s session. The solitude was familiar, comforting even. She liked this quiet moment after the chaos of practice, when the echoes of shouting and skates pounding the ice had faded, leaving only stillness.

I have a girlfriend who isn't really my girlfriend and a father who measures my worth in goals and a whole life waiting for me that I'm supposed to want, and instead I'm standing on the ice at ten at night showing a scholarship kid how to fix his wrist shot because some part of me wanted an excuse to be near him and didn't want to admit it. "Like this," I say, and I get behind him, close, closer than I need to be, my hands adjusting his grip on the stick, my chest nearly against his back. "Keep your elbow up. Follow through toward the target, not down." He's gone very still. "Try it," I say, and my voice comes out lower than I mean it to. He shoots. The puck rockets into the top corner of th

“Nothing special. Just... stuff.” Alan grabbed another box. “Come on, Toby. You were reading something big in the cafeteria. Looked smart. Astrophysics? That’s space stuff, right?” I felt my cheeks burn. He noticed. “It’s just a book. For fun.” “Fun?” He raised an eyebrow, but his eyes were kind. “Most people think hockey is fun. Or parties. You’re different. In a good way.” We kept working side by side. He helped sweep corners I couldn’t reach and even took the mop for a bit when my arms got too tired. His hands were big and rough, but careful. Every time our arms brushed, a spark went through me.

Dark hair messy beneath his helmet like a cologne commercial designed to ruin women financially and emotionally. Still an asshole though. “You’re watching this again?” she asked. Ethan finally glanced at her. “This was his hat trick game.” “You say that like it’s supposed to mean something to me.” “It means he scored three goals in one game.” “Congratulations to him and his violent ice soccer.” Ethan gasped in mock offense. “Did you just call hockey ice soccer?” “Yes.” “That’s offensive.” She bit into her toast. “You know what’s offensive? The fact that this man has rejected me four times this month.”

I could hear the distant sound of skates cutting across ice. I walked toward the entrance, my bag slung over my shoulder, my notebook clutched in my hand like a shield. The moment I stepped inside, the cold hit me. Not the cold of the outside air, but the cold of the rink. The players were already on the ice. I spotted them immediately, a blur of movement and color, skating in formation, passing the puck back and forth with practiced ease. The coach was standing at the edge of the rink, clipboard in hand, his voice cutting through the cold air like a whip.

“Nah, it can be that bad. I have friends who’ve broken their arms and busted their knees from a hard fall on the ice.” Now Ryder was the one hissing and wincing. “Yeah, we men can be so brutal at times.” I inwardly scoffed. Men. The way he said it made them sound like middle-aged dads discussing life experience. These guys were barely even in their twenties. “Alright alright,” Ryder conceded. “So hockey is a no-go. If you don’t like rough sports, then what are you into?” “Chess. Golf.” Clint took another bite of his muffin. “Indoor games that don’t require you to get body-checked into another dimension and also guarantee my safety.”

Game night Friday. The Black Ice team of Michigan rolled into Providence early. The arena was loud enough to shake the glass. He could feel it beneath his skates as he stepped onto the ice for warmups. Division One hockey always drew attention, but conference games brought something different. They had come to Providence, and the stands were packed with students, alumni, parents, and scouts. Every mistake would be seen, and every goal remembered.

Bonded. Unbreakable. 🏒🔥

He laughed "I love you, Ravenna North" "And I love you, Axel North" * This is the literal end of Fire and Ice! Finally! I just wanna say a big thank you to all the people that read to this point and also to the people that cared enough to text me on my g***l which is still ojegift99@g***l.com. I love you all so much and I'd miss you all terribly ಥ╭╮ಥ If you're asking if they would be a sequel on Briar and Kyle?