Little Puck Hucow Novels & Stories

POV: KAI The press box smells like musty coffee and old popcorn. I sit in the back row, laptop balanced on my knees, hoodie zipped to my chin. The collar still hides most of the mark, but I feel it every time I swallow. Like a reminder I can't delete. Game starts fast. Puck drops. The crowd roars. I type without looking down much—habit now. The Ice Hawks are up early, but it's not the score I'm watching.

When the ref drops the puck, the game officially turns into a battle between our speed and their experience. Every time I try to sprint past a defender, hulk-guy who I'm finding out is their captain is already there. It’s frustrating. I’m skating as hard as I can, my heart thumping against my ribs, but the alumni move the puck in perfect circles. They don't even look winded.

"You can't. None of us can. Soccer and pussy. They're the only things we need." Several of my teammates snicker, and I wonder how I've never noticed what fucking cavemen half these guys are. I've never been one to party with them anyway, but I know what they do behind closed doors, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't give me pause sometimes and wonder why they think it's okay to participate in activities like that. Shivel makes his way around the room, inviting more of the guys to his place and I turn to Christian. "He's such a dick," he says under his breath.

Most of them have a word in common. "Tits... tits... tits... breasts, huh," I lift my eyebrows in surprise, this one particular hockey fan is very respectful, "He said, 'This broad has the best breasts I have seen. Good job, Kent' well, at least he didn't say tits. I'm going to like that one." Bram chuckles and I continue reading out loud. 'Who is she?' 'Puckslut' 'Are you okay to play again? Please say yes.' 'I missed you, I love you. She's not good enough for you.'

I bet you look good in it, too. The bass from the party downstairs thumps through the mattress, a slow, steady beat that matches the pulse in my cock. I lie there, alone in the dark, waiting for the next buzz and it comes too quickly. Barnabythebear: Tomorrow at the rink by 8 PM. Come if you want *wink emoji*

“Walk in late, act like you own the place, then disappear when real responsibility is mentioned.” I glanced at him. “I didn’t disappear,” I told him calmly. “I left to pursue my dream.” “That’s the same thing!” Adrian shot back. Our mother raised her hand slightly. “Please—can we not start like this?” But no one listened. My father began. “You think hockey is a career worth building an empire on?” My jaw tightened. “It already is.” A cold laugh from Adrian. “Sports?” he said. “You’re betting your entire life on sports?”

he asks, “or something else?” I smirk a little at that. “Hockey,” I answer. I’m not sure what he’s implying or what it is he thinks he knows. He studies me for a long moment like he doesn’t quite believe me, then pushes off the SUV. “There’s a pack meeting this week. I’m sure everyone will be very interested to see you,” he says before getting into his vehicle. I watch the SUV drive off and then look down at my bloody knuckles again.

They were teething and trying to chew the entire house up. Kyran chuckled beside me. "She's got your inquisitiveness, you know." I nudged him playfully. "And your knack for getting into trouble." Kael emerged from the hallway, carrying a laundry basket overflowing with tiny clothes. "Has anyone seen the other sock to this pair?" He held up a lone blue sock adorned with little wolves. Huck's favorite. "Check under the couch," I suggested. "That's where Huck hides his treasures." As if on cue, Huckley waddled over, clutching a spoon he'd swiped from the kitchen. He waved it triumphantly before plopping down to examine it more closely.

my hips bucking toward his touch. "You like that?" he murmurs against my neck, his breath hot as he nips at the skin there. "Yes," I breathe, my voice already ragged. He pushes a finger inside me, then two, curling them to stroke that spot that makes my thighs tremble. I moan louder, "Oh god, right there," my pussy clenching around him as he pumps steadily, his thumb still working my clit. The pressure builds fast, heat coiling tight in my core.

1802 John stood still as he saw it happen again. On the surface of the Lake, there was a figure. A figure, trapped behind a barricade, moving round and round, chanting, then it would try to step past it but the barricade didn't let it through. He rose a hand to wipe his eyes but when he looked again, he saw the same thing happen over and over again. He looked around and looked back at the Lake and still saw the exact same thing. He began to laugh. He laughed so hard, the creature got tired of simply ignoring the noise, and looked up to see who the noisy Mortal was.