Unikitty Brock Novels & Stories

That stupid ass flutter. ------------------------------------------------------------------- Happy Spring break. Happy New Month and Happy Birthday to whosoever has his or her Birthday this month. Love you. Don't forget to Like/Comment/Vote/Follow and most importantly Enjoy. Unicorn_Kaki Just a daily reminder:

Thankfully, they were all from the Campus Buzz community chat I’d followed last week. Curious, I tapped on it to see what everyone was talking about when I froze. The smile on my face instantly faded as I read the caption. MAYA JENNINGS DUMPED?! 👀 Star hockey player Caden Duke caught in an intimate poolside moment with a mystery girl. Fuck. Below the caption was a picture of me and Caden from last night—right after he saved me from the pool. I was in his arms, and our faces were so close anyone would’ve thought we were kissing.

When Brock got onto the highway and started accelerating I yelled inhumanely for Nick to floor it. "I'm not going to get myself pulled over for your love life!" Narrowing my eyes at him and seeing Brock's bumper a ways ahead of us I growled threatenly. "Haul ass! I will pay for any ticket you may get!" Swallowing uncomfortably, Nick pressed more against the gas. "You do realize that Brock Johnson is a warlock, right, and can use magic?" I gave him a bland glance as I listened. "I think that I saw them put Raija in the back of his car and she didn't look alive," I asserted. Nick was glancing over at me like I was nuts.

Tanaka didn’t miss a beat and replied with, “Emotionally, I have a lot to give, you know, and plus, the idea of suggesting it makes me an even better character.” Kieran sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is why no one takes us seriously. Like, look at this guy, goddamn.” Brock had resumed his window-gazing, and as he saw a little kid crying, he smirked. Honestly, I also found it funny. He murmured. “She weirdly fits; that’s disturbing.” Annie smirked. “You know what, I’ll take that as a compliment, window guy.” He murmured under his breath, saying it wasn’t, but she didn’t hear.

He stopped in front of me and gently tilted my chin up with calloused fingers—the same fingers that had once traced constellations on my bare skin, wiped away my tears, and held me through every storm. “I do know you,” he said, voice thick with grief. “That’s what makes this so ugly. That’s why I want to rip my own chest open.” He pulled a small glass vial from his pocket. Frost immediately formed on the glass, crawling across it like something alive. Waves of icy cold radiated from it, turning my breath into visible steam. “This is Mercy Frost,” he explained quietly. “From the northern springs. One drink and you’ll forget the accusations. You’ll forget the blood on your hands. You’ll forget

Kyle rushed through his morning meetings and tidied up some stuff so that he wouldn't have to be back for a long time. He couldn't wait to get back to his little pain in the ass, princess. He touched his inside jacket pocket to make sure the box from Harry Winston was there and patted the packages on the seat next to him.

You're right. That's all the text from Nicholas says. Despite its terseness, I know exactly what he's talking about. We haven't spoken since our conversation about Homecoming a few weeks ago. I'd left him with lots to think about. But he's a good kid. His dad may be a dick, but stepdad Aaron's been around a while, and before that, my brothers and I made sure Nicky had good male role models. I text him back as soon as I pull into Quincy's lot and park my car.

I groan internally. My name is Mariah Cruz. I'm 17 years old and starting my junior year today. My Father, Mark Cruz, is the current Beta of our pack, The Royal Moon Pack, and my mother, Jennifer Diaz, is the Beta female. My Brother Josh Cruz is 18 years old and a senior in High School. He is training to become the next Beta when our Alpha, Jason Adams, decides to retire and hand the title to his eldest son, Nick Adams. Nick is 18 and is also a senior in high school. He is also my brother's best friend.

“Be a sport. I offered to give you a ride the other night. And not just on my lap. Now, how’s about you return the love?” Bottom dropping out of my stomach, I blinked at him, certain I’d misheard what he’d just said. But this made no sense. Because sexily named Broderick—and stepbrother of Kaitlynn—could not be the same guy who’d coined me Mayhem the other night. He couldn’t have overheard me telling anyone about that either, since I hadn’t actually told anyone what Black Crimson had called me. And he couldn’t be— No way. Brick Carmichael was rich and connected and would have no reason to be out wandering around that neighborhood.

Making them work for everything. "What the hell?" one guy says after I check him into the boards harder than necessary. "Sorry," I say, but I'm not. I play like that the whole time. Using anger instead of skill. Can't keep up with the fast guys, but I can make their lives difficult. Coach Williams starts watching me. "Transfer kid," he shouts during a break. "What's your name?" "Bryson." "You ever played before, Bryson?" "No sir." He nods and writes something down. Can't tell if that's good or bad.