Pucking Novels & Stories

Turns out Ava’s stupid laugh was a lot harder to shake off than I thought. But soon, I picked up the pace. I was quick to use forward strides, then back strides to avoid my opponents, shooting the puck with enough force to tear through the net. I kept on for minutes, maybe hours, my energy not derailing. And when it was time for my last shot, I pushed it one more time with every ounce of strength. The goalie looked at me twice before turning his face towards the net. I was breathing hard, chest rising and falling. “Time out.” A whistle blew, and we all moved towards the sitting area. I gulped down all my water as I tried steadying my breathing.

Another score. He was breathing heavy now, hot air billowing in front of his face in thick white clouds. His shoulders burned, but he didn't care. He swept three more pucks into a line, his skates cutting deep, jagged ruts into the pristine, unworked ice. He raised his stick, putting his entire body weight into the flex— "Yo, Cap! Why you hitting that puck like it killed your dog?" Liam’s stick halted mid air. He dug his skates into the ice, sliding to a heavy halt and turning toward the voice.

The pure confidence radiating from him made my skin crawl with genuine dread. Dante accelerated rapidly, his powerful strides chewing up the distance between us in mere seconds. He did not look at the empty net behind him. He kept his pale eyes locked entirely on my terrified face. He crossed the blue line and pulled his stick back with terrifying speed. He unleashed a massive slap shot without ever breaking our intense eye contact. The heavy rubber puck launched through the cold air like a lethal bullet. The puck struck the water bottle resting perfectly on top of the net. The plastic bottle exploded violently, sending a massive shower of water cascading down the white mesh. The puck settle

It’s just a stupid fake dating shit for my reputation, why is it sounding like something more? Something stupid moved again in my chest and I crushed it immediately. I didn’t have time for that shit. She didn’t look at me once in the first period. I looked at her more than I should have. Wins before Bitches! I reminded myself again. I tried hard to focus, after which Buffalo scored first, it was my goal and it was fucking clean. Their goalie was slow, winning was my way of making him pay for it. I threw my arms up, angled myself toward the photo pit for an extra second just to be an asshole about it.

The black rubber puck had barely touched the center red line before the game turned into an immediate collision. Casper did not look at the defense formation. He did not look at the referee's hand. He launched his broad frame straight across the circle, his steel skates cutting a loud, sharp track into the fresh ice. He brought his carbon stick down with a violent force, striking Christian’s pads before the first whistle could even finish echoing through the speakers. The entire visitor bench erupted into a loud roar.

"You can't be backing down now or I'll call foul. Toss me the damned ball." Punting dynamics is much different than field goals and extra point kicks. First: A center with long snapping abilities hikes the ball to the kicker during a punt. I'm tossing instead because my long snapping skills suck. Second: The punter catches the ball and leads it to his foot to make the kick. A punter uses the top of his foot to kick; whereas, I use the side of my foot. It's a different mindset and why there's usually a separate kicker and punter.

The referee dropped the puck, and the game began in a flurry of movement. The rink was alive with the sound of skates slicing through the ice and the clatter of sticks colliding. Enzo and Matt worked together to create a fast break, passing the puck back and forth as they advanced down the ice. The opposing team's defense swarmed around them, trying to block their path, but Enzo's size and strength proved too much to handle. With a powerful shot, he sent the puck flying past the goalie and into the net.

Hawk has an arm around mine which is in full punch mode. “Go fuck your mother.” I yell at the asshole who has cornered me, the puck was mine, it was mine for the taking and it would have been a good shot. Sometimes, it can pretty mean and nasty on the ice like today. The guys we’re playing are total fuckers.

Which kind of made the corner of my mouth tip up. They take their kick and it's wide. Now it's defense. The ball is punted and the opposing team goes in for the toss. The catcher grabs the ball and runs. Sarah jumps to tackle, but he's a solid kid and she bounces off him. He barely falters. She gets up and runs at him again. Lunging at his ankles, grabbing them and making him fall on his face. Not the greatest play, but it worked. He dropped the ball.

I mean every fucking thing in me, not to snap that head off his neck. I couldn't imagine me, Riven Blackthorn. Alpha of Silverfangs picking pucks. Ok, don't get me wrong. I could pick pucks after practice and that would be considered normal. But picking pucks as a result of punishment and not just for anything but because someone was doing something wrong and I couldn't say it because if I said it, I will be tagged wrongly so I just acted and “Whew!” I breathed. “Breathe, Riven”, I said myself as I breathed again.