Pucking Around Quotes

Hey, princess.” “Hey,” I whispered, as Ash slipped his arms around my waist from behind, drawing me close. I could feel his glare aimed at Puck over my head, a silent, protective gesture that spoke louder than any words. Mine. Back off.

Good idea,” Puck echoed from the back of the cave. “Why don’t you take first watch, prince? You could actually be doing something that doesn’t make me want to gouge my eyes out with a spork.” Ash’s lips curled in a smirk. “I would think you’re better suited to the task, Goodfellow,” he said without turning around. “After all, that’s what you’re best at isn’t it? Watching?” “Oh, keep it up, ice-boy. You’re gonna have to sleep sometime.

Jealousy isn't something we deal with well, but some of us have been around long enough to know when to let go, and what is most important. The happiness of my two best friends should be more important than some ancient feud. - Puck

You know, I’m really starting to hate the insect life around here,” he muttered. “Next time, remind me to bring a can of Off!” -Puck

There was a soft chuckle beside me, and my heart stopped. "So this is Oberon's famous half-blood," Ash mused as I whirled around. His eyes, cold and inhuman, glimmered with amusement. Up close, he was even more beautiful, with high cheekbones and dark tousled hair falling into his eyes. My traitor hands itched, longing to run my fingers through those bangs. Horrified, I clenched them in my lap, trying to concentrate on what Ash was saying. "And to think," the prince continued, smiling, "I lost you that day in the forest and didn't even know what I was chasing." I shrank back, eyeing Oberon and Queen Mab. They were deep in conversation and did not notice me. I didn't want to interrupt them simply because a prince of the Unseelie Court was talking to me. Besides, I was a faery princess now. Even if I didn't quite believe it, Ash certainly did. I took a deep breath, raised my chin, and looked him straight in the eye. "I warn you," I said, pleased that my voice didn't tremble, "that if you try anything, my father will remove your head and stick it to a plaque on his wall." He shrugged one lean shoulder. "There are worse things." At my horrified look, he offered a faint, self-derogatory smile. "Don't worry, princess, I won't break the rules of Elysium. I have no intention of facing Mab's wrath should I embarrass her. That's not why I'm here." "Then what do you want?" He bowed. "A dance." "What!" I stared at him in disbelief. "You tried to kill me!" "Technically, I was trying to kill Puck. You just happened to be there. But yes, if I'd had the shot, I would have taken it." "Then why the hell would you think I'd dance with you?" "That was then." He regarded me blandly. "This is now. And it's tradition in Elysium that a son and daughter of opposite territories dance with each other, to demonstrate the goodwill between the courts." "Well, it's a stupid tradition." I crossed my arms and glared. "And you can forget it. I am not going anywhere with you." He raised an eyebrow. "Would you insult my monarch, Queen Mab, by refusing? She would take it very personally, and blame Oberon for the offense. And Mab can hold a grudge for a very, very long time." Oh, damn. I was stuck.

You think I don’t know pain?” Puck shook his head at me. “Or loss? I’ve been around a lot longer than you, prince! I know what love is, and I’ve lost my fair share, too. Just because we have a different way of handling it, doesn’t mean I don’t have scars of my own.” “Name one,” I scoffed. “Give me one instance where you haven’t—” “Meghan Chase!” Puck roared, startling me into silence. I blinked, and he sneered at me. “Yeah, your highness. I know what loss is. I’ve loved that girl since before she knew me. But I waited. I waited because I didn’t want to lie about who I was. I wanted her to know the truth before anything else. So I waited, and I did my job. For years, I protected her, biding my time, until the day she went into the Nevernever after her brother. And then you came along. And I saw how she looked at you. And for the first time, I wanted to kill you as much as you wanted to kill me.

Why?” I whispered. “Why do you hang around? You and Ash could’ve died today.” Puck’s heartbeat sped up under my fingers. His voice, when it came, was very soft, almost a whisper. “I would’ve thought you’d’ve figured that out by now.” ~`~`~`~ Puck loves me, it whispered, thrilled. He’s in love with me. I knew it. I knew it all along. “You’re kind of blind, you know?” Puck whispered, smiling to soften his words. “I wouldn't defy Oberon for just anyone. But, for you…” He leaned forward, touching his forehead to mine. “I’d come back from the dead for you.

Oy, ice-boy,” the real Puck called, still fighting his two doppelgängers. “Quit playing around with my evil twin—you have your own!

I closed my eyes instead. And Puck kissed me. “If you are going to do that, would you mind not jostling the bed so much?” came a sarcastic voice near the headboard. “Perhaps you could roll around on the floor.” Blushing furiously, I looked up. Grimalkin lay on the pillow, watching us with a bemused, half-lidded stare. Puck followed my gaze and let out an explosive sigh. “Did I ever mention how much I hate cats?” “Do not blame me, Goodfellow.” Grimalkin blinked, managing to sound bored and indignant at the same time. “I was minding my own business long before you and the princess started humping like rabbits.

Puck flapped up to the happy couple. "Wait a minute! You have to ask someone to marry you? No one told me that! I thought you just hit them with a club and dragged them back to your cave!" Henry put his arm around Sabrina. "You're officially grounded from ever getting married." "Thank you," Sabrina whispered sincerely.

Puck rolled his eyes. Holding out his hand, he gave me an encouraging smile. “Come on, Princess. Don’t want to get separated in here.” I clasped his hand, and he curled his fingers around mine. “Let’s go, then. Rusty can bring up the read. That way, if we’re jumped from behind, we won’t lose anything important.” I felt Ironhorse’s indignant snort as we entered the tunnel, and I pressed closer to Puck as the shadows closed in on us like grasping fingers. - Puck, Meghan Chase, and Ironhorse, page 152.

... What do you want, Ash?" "Your head," Ash answered softly. "On a pike. But what I want doesn't matter this time." He pointed his sword at me. "I've come for her." I gasped as my heart and stomach began careening around my chest. He's here for me, to kill me, like he promised at Elysium. "Over my dead body." Puck smiled, as if this was a friendly conversation on the street, but I felt muscles coiling under his skin. "This was part of the plan." The prince raised his sword, the icy blade wreathed in mist. "I will avenge her today, and put her memory to rest." For a moment, a shadow of anguish flitted across his face, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were cold and glittered with malice. "Prepare yourself." "Stay back, princess," Puck warned, pushing me out of the way. He reached into his boot and pullet out a dagger, the curved blade clear as glass. "This might get a little rough." "Puck, no." I clutched at his sleeve. "Don't fight him. Someone could die." "Duels to the death tend to end that way." Puck grinned, but it was a savage thing, grim and frightening. "But I'm touched that you care. One moment, princeling," he called to Ash, who inclined his head. Taking my wrist, Puck steered me behind the fountain and bent close, his breath warm on my face. "I have to do this, princess," he said firmly. "Ash won't let us go without a fight, and this has been coming for a long time now." For a moment, a shadow of regret flickered across his face, but then it was gone. "So," he murmured, grinning as he tilted my chin up, "before I march off to battle, how 'bout a kiss for luck?" I hesitated, wondering why now, of all times, he would ask for a kiss. He certainly didn't think of me in that way... did he?

Charming,” Puck commented, gazing around in distaste. “I love the barren, dead feel they’re going for. Who’s the gardener, I wonder? I’d love to get some tips.

He nodded. "I think you're good for him, Meghan," he said, smiling in a small, sad way that was completely different from the Puck I knew. "I see the way he looks at you, something I haven't seen in him since the day we lost Ariella. And...I know you love him in a way that you can't love me." He looked away, just for a moment, and took a deep breath. "Jealousy isn't something that we deal with well," he admitted. "But some of us have been around long enough to know when to let go, and what is most important. The happiness of my two best friends should be more important than some ancient feud.

I could almost feel Meghan against me, shaking with sobs as she mourned her Winter prince. I could feel my arms around her as I whispered that it would be okay, that she still had me, and I would never leave. Ant then I wanted to kick myself in the head for thinking that

Me? Robin Goodfellow, a family man? He, not likely, ice-boy. I mean, think of what that would do to my reputation." Glamour shimmered around him, and he gave us a wink. "Later, lovebirds. Gimme a heads up when the kid arrives. 'Uncle Puck' will be waiting.

You don't think I know that?” Puck was shouting now, green eyes feverish. “You don't think I regret what I did, every single day? You lost Ariella, but I lost you both! Believe it or not, I was kind of a mess, too, Ash. It got to a point where I actually looked forward to our random duels, because that was the only time I could talk to you. When you were freaking trying to kill me!” “Don't compare your loss to mine,” I snarled. “You have no idea what I went through, what you caused.” “You think I don't know pain?” Puck shook his head at me. “Or loss? I've been around a lot longer than you, prince! I know what love is, and I've lost my fair share, too. Just because we have a different way of handling it, doesn't mean I don't have scars of my own.” “Name one,” I scoffed. “Give me one instance where you haven't—” “Meghan Chase!” Puck roared, startling me into silence.

Puck swung the cannon around in anger. The nozzle spun and hit Sabrina in the chest. The force was so pawerful she was knocked right off the platform and fell backward off the tower. She saw sky above her and felt the wind in her hair. How ironic, she thought, as she fell to her certain death, that at that moment she would have given anything to be a giant goose again. Air rushed past Sabrina's ears and suddenly she felt her back tingling again. A moment later she was hanging upside down, inches from the ground. She looked up to find her savior, only to find that her her wasn't a person but a long, furry tail sticking out of the back of her pants. It was wrapped around a beam in the tower a kept her swinging there like a monkey. Puck floated down to her, his wings flapping softly enough to allow him to hover. "I bet you think this is hilarious. Look what you did to me with your stupid pranks. I have a tail!" she raged. Puck's face was trembling. "I'm sorry." "What?" Sabrina said blankly. "I almost killed you. I'm sorry, Sabrina," he said, rubbing his eyes on his filthy hoodie. He lifted her off the tower and set her on the ground. "Since when do you care?" Sabrina said, still stunned by the boy's apology.

He drew in a shaky breath. "How can you ask me to let you die?" he choked, still keeping the blade at the prince's throat. A thread of blood formed under the knife, and ran down to Ash's collar. "I'd do anything for you, Meghan. Just...not that. Not that." Gently, I reached up and closed my fingers around the knife hilt, easing it down and away from Ash's neck. Puck resisted for a moment, then stepped back with a sob. The dagger fell from his grip and clanged to the floor.

You’re awfully quiet, Princess,” Puck said as he arranged the firewood into a tepee. His slanted green eyes shot me a knowing look. “In fact, you haven’t said a word since his royal iciness left. What’s wrong?” “Oh.” I cast about for an excuse. No way was I telling Puck about my feelings for Ash. He’d probably challenge him to a duel the moment he walked through the door. “I…um…I’m just weirded out, you know, with all those wiremen bodies around. It’s kinda creepy, like they might come to life and attack us while we’re sleeping.

Glitter and streamers of light swirled around us, and a chorus of tiny voices sang out a single note. I winced, knowing there was only one person who thought a normal entrance, like walking through a door, wasn’t good enough for her; she had to announce her presence with sparkle and glitter and St. Peter’s choir.

She looked around. "Oh, I've just got to hug somebody! You!" And she hugged Puck, the little ghost horse. "And you." She hugged Pook, and Peek, and even the nose of the moat monster. "But not you," she decided, encountering the zombie.

Three platonic fuck buddies and a hyperactive dog. What could possibly go wrong?

He did something so un-Pucklike, Sabrina couldn’t believe it. He got up sat behind her, and let his enormous fairy wings sprout from his back. Then he wrapped them around her to keep the bitter cold away. It was the first truly nice thing the so-called Trickster King had ever done for her.

Death by too much dick. And this is a death I mean to die over and over and over again.

Oh baby, just you wait. I’ve got the next ten months to slow burn the fuck out of this.

Hey!” Whirling around, he stalked back toward the fire, and its now- empty spit, waving his arms. “My rabbit! Grimalkin, you sneaky, gray…pig! I hope you enjoy that, ’cause the next thing over the fire might be you!

That is what Frederick is like. He’s part man, part fantasy. He gathers your wild imaginings about him, wraps them around himself like a garment. Until eventually he is a figure made mostly of the mystery you endowed him with yourself. And you don’t try to unravel it. Because you’re afraid that all you’d have left is a pair of brown eyes and a limp. And by that point, you’ve already given him so much.

So, what's the big emergency, princess? You and ice-boy look fine to me, and the Nevernever isn't crumbling around us. What's going on?" "I'm pregnant, Puck," I said quietly, and watched his eyebrows shoot into his hair. Briefly,I explained what had happened at Elysium, the oracle's mysterious appearance and invitation, and Grimalkin's instruction to meet him at the Wishing Tree. By the time I was done, Puck was still staring at me openmouthed, struck mute for maybe the second time in his life, and I would've laughed if the situation wasn't so serious. "Oh," he finally managed. "That's, uh... Wow. That's not something you hear every day. Not exactly what I was expecting, though the entire prophecy thing does get old after a while." He shook himself, seeming to regain his composure, and glanced at Ash. "So, it's the ever so popular Firstborn Child of Doom prophecy, huh, ice-boy? How very cliche. Why can't it be the third nephew twice removed who's fated to destroy the world?

Because, if she leaves us, she didn’t love us enough to stay, respect us enough to let us make our own decisions, or want us enough to fight through this storm,

You really think I could forget my Seattle Girl? Baby, you’re all I think about.

Wow,” he muttered, his voice choked with tears. “Here we are, the last night and all, and I can't think of anything to say.” I pressed my palm to his cheek, feeling the moisture beneath my fingers, and smiled at him. “How about 'goodbye'?” “Nah.” Puck shook his head. “I make a point of never saying goodbye, princess. Makes it sound like you're never coming back.” “Puck—” He bent down and kissed me softly on the lips. Ash stiffened, arms tightening around me, but Puck slid out of reach before either of us could react. “Take care of her, ice-boy,” he said, smiling as he backed up several paces. “I guess I won't be seeing you, either, will I? It was...fun, while it lasted.” “I'm sorry we didn't get to kill each other,” Ash said quietly. Puck chuckled and bent to retrieve his fallen dagger. “My one and only regret. Too bad, that would have been an epic fight.” Straightening, he gave us that old, stupid grin, raising a hand in farewell. “See you around, lovebirds.

Ash didn't say anything, but I heard his faint sigh, as if he'd been holding his breath, and he drew me close, wrapping his around me. I lay my head on his chest and closed my eyes, shoving thoughts of Puck and my dad and the false king to the back of my mind. I would deal with them tomorrow. Right now, I just wanted to sleep, to sink into oblivion and forget everything for a little while. Ash was still quiet, thoughtful. His glamour aura glimmered once, then flickered out of sight again. But all I had to do was listen to his heart, thudding in his chest, to know what he was feeling.

You deserve every good thing in life. Don't wait for it to come to you. Go out and get it.

I want him on his knees. I want him drowning in my pussy, and I want to scream his name as I come apart.

Puck rolled his eyes. Holding out his hand, he gave me an encouraging smile. "Come on, Princess. Don't want to get separated in here." I clasped his hand, and he curled his fingers tight around mine. "Let's go then. Rusty can bring up the rear. That way, if we get jumped from behind, we won't lose anything important.

But this isn’t just sex for me, Rachel,” Jake adds, his face solemn. “Hell, at this point, I’ll settle for just breathing your air. I’ll rub your feet on the couch after a long day. I’ll do your laundry. I’ll hold your purse while you shop for trail mix. That’s how crazy I am about you. I have to be me, and this is who I am. This is how I feel. Move in and be with me. With us. Whatever that looks like to you, we’ll figure it out. Just give me more than this nothing. I can’t bear another second of the nothing.

In the background, the stuffed beaver I gave her hangs from a ceiling fan with a makeshift noose tied around his neck.

When you spend so long living in the cloud of your mistakes, it's difficult to see your way out of the fog.

You can’t stop the bad things from happening—to yourself, to your brother, to any of us. I know because I’ve lived the same as you, trying to keep my life small. Really all I did was build myself a cage. And then I trapped myself inside that cage and told myself the bars weren’t real.

I snort. “Yeah, well I had a 6’5” blond Viking saying ‘bend over.’ You tell me what you would’ve done in my position, Tess.

Just call me Reddi, ‘cause I’m fucking whipped.

My parents are locked in their room, so I don’t have to engage in mindless chitchat. Sometimes Sidney walks around in his underwear. I’m used to dealing with his abundance of chest hair, but the white briefs are too much. I have a solid understanding—pun completely intended—why my mom married him, beyond his stellar personality.

Over my opponent's shoulder, I saw Other Ash block an upward strike, then lash out with a kick that sent Puck sprawling onto his back. The reflection stepped forward, raising his sword, but Puck reached back, grabbed a handful of twigs and flung it at his assailant. They turned into a swarm of yellow jackets, buzzing around the fake prince, until a vicious burst of cold sent them plummeting to the ground, coated in frost. "Hey!" Other Puck stabbed forward viciously, making me keep back to avoid him. "The fight's here, ice-boy. Don't worry about your boyfriend, worry about yourself.

Right,” he laughs. “Well…these are the guys, right? What are you calling them—your boyfriends? Your squad? Your pussy posse?” Jake snorts, his mouth open like he’s about to speak. “Don’t,” I snap. “The first of you to refer to our relationship as the ‘pussy posse’ will be the first voted off the island. Agreed?

Real love doesn't come around often. Hell, sometimes it never comes around at all. But when it does ... it's worth waiting for. Trust me.

She didn’t seem to be protesting,” I add darkly. “Oh, she will protest,” he huffs. “When I rip them out of those fucking jerseys and spank their asses raw. Come on.

What kind of psycho drinks peppermint mocha in the middle of summer?

Stronger together. Never to be parted. Ilmari Price is my husband. My lover, my friend.

Wear my jersey, you better be ready to wear my ring and my name, because that’s where this is going for me. Don’t fucking tease me again unless you’re all the way there too.

Seeing you in another man’s jersey? Well, it’s a rare kind of torture. One look at you, and Jake is gonna play his best game of the season.

I love you, Caleb Sanford, and I am not afraid of your darkness. You’d have to do a lot more than break a knee and become an alcoholic to dance all night with my devils. I dare you to let me in,

I see you, mun leijona. They see you too,” he adds, gesturing at Caleb and Jake. “You would brave any danger for those you love. Climb any mountain, leap from any clifftop. A love like yours is wild and dangerous. You need men who will not seek to harness you or break your spirit. You need men who will protect you. Who will provide a safe space for you to love as freely as your heart will allow. We are those men.

Place yourself in our care, and we will never stop fighting for you," Ilmari says. "We will never stray. never waver. We will seek no exit. Love us and watch how we love you in return. One family. One unit. Unbreakable.

Oh my GOD! He’s coming over to your house, isn’t he? I can smell it. I can smell the promise of sweaty, hot hockey sex in the air.” “What’s hockey sex?” Alex asks. “You know . . . the kind where he rips her clothes off, lifts her above his head, and eats her out while spinning around the room like he’s on the ice.” “That’s not fucking hockey sex. That’s figure-skating sex. Hockey sex is more like she holds pucks over her nipples while he fucks her on the bench in

We all deserve a second chance,” I say. Feeling like this is a moment of truth, I lean in. “But just know that, if Ilmari is a lion, I’m his lioness. Hurt my husband, and I’ll rip out your fucking throat. Agreed?” He smirks, giving me a nod. “Joo.

There was movement on its broad shoulders, and Puck appeared, clinging to its back, a huge grin splitting his face. “All right,” he announced grandly, as the troll jerked and spun around, trying in vain to reach him, “I claim this land for Spain.” And

I love you, Hurricane. So fucking much. You made me a father, a husband. You’re the reason I have any of this,” he adds, gesturing around the room. “You make Mars feel whole, but you make me feel seen. You see me, baby. And I pray to god you never look away.

Caleb laughs too, dropping his hand away from me. “Don’t worry, Pop. It’s just a little team-building exercise.” He gives me a wink, his hand dropping back down between us to take mine. We’re the only two who know the truth: the Rays aren’t the team he’s talking about. Not at all.

I flip up my collar and turn my back to him as I pick my way back up toward the cliff base. I don’t think I can watch him disappear into the water. It will break my heart. Puck’s scrubbing her eyes busily as if she has something in them. George Holly bites his lip. The cliffs tower above me and I try to console myself, I will find another capall uisce, I will ride again, I will move to my father’s home and be free. But there’s no comfort in my thoughts. Behind me, the ocean says shhhhhhhh, shhhhhhhhh. There’s a thin, long wail. I keep walking, my bare feet slow on the uneven stones. The wail comes again, low and keening. Puck and Holly are looking past me, so I turn around. Still at the shoreline, Corr has noticed my going, and he stands where I left him, looking back at me. He lifts his head again and keens to me. The irresistible ocean sucks around his hooves. But still he looks over his withers at me and he wails, again and again. The hair on my arms stands with his call. I know he wants me to go to him, but I can’t go with him where he needs to go. Corr falls silent when I do not come to him. He looks back out to the endless horizon. I see him lift a hoof and put it back down. He tests his weight again. Then Corr turns, stepping out of the ocean. His head jerks up when his injured leg touches the ground, but he takes another labored step before keening to me again. Corr takes another step away from the November sea. And another. He is slow, and the sea sings to us both, but he returns to me.

I smile up at his beautiful face, feeling so at ease in his arms. So safe and content. For so long I’ve felt like a small boat set adrift on a perilous sea. Ilmari Kinnunen came skating into my life as this closed-off, moody bear of a goalie. I smile, knowing with such clarity how he fits with us. He’s my safe harbor.

mun leijona.” More tears fall as I wrap a hand around his wrist, leaning into his touch. “What does that mean?” “It means ‘my lioness,’” he replies. “For that is what you are to me, and have always been: a fearless, dark-haired lioness. Look at yourself through my eyes, Rakas. Through Jake’s eyes. Through Caleb’s eyes.

I loved you from the moment I saw you. You stole my breath away, and I’ve been living on borrowed time ever since. Be my life support. Keep my heart beating. Marry the fuck outta me.” I grin, my own hands cupping his cheeks. “I love you so much, Jake. You walked into that bar, and I never stood a chance. I am so irrevocably yours. Be mine forever.

I want to say that yes, it was worth it; that I could suffer through pain and torture for her and go through a lot more than what Puck and his friends are capable of, and I can do it for all of eternity; suffer, until she realizes how much I love her. But she’s gone before I can say any of it. I wait till she’s left. And then I reach for my wallet. Hidden inside one of the flaps is a piece of paper that barely conceals a razorblade. Its frayed edges still have my blood on them. The blood is from the previous cuts I’ve made and I carry it around like a trophy, like Dexter carries around his victims’ blood on slides. I use that blade to give myself a cut and it starts bleeding. Right away, it feels as though the pressure that has been building inside me ever since that confrontation with Puck is lifted. I feel free again.

Well," Puck commented, looking around at our odd party, "this is it, huh? I must admit, this is probably one of the stranger things I've had to do, with one of the stranger groups I've had to do it with." The Wolf snorted. "No stranger than usual, Goodfellow." "I guess not." Puck sighed, then straightened with a bright grin, rubbing his hands. "Welp, as a certain furball would point out, time's a-wasting. Who's up for saving the Nevernever one more time?

shiver at the memory. Jesus, I’m getting hard again. It’s like I can’t get enough of this guy. “Turned you on, huh?” I drawl. “Oh yeah.” He nudges his cockhead forward, and I open my mouth, letting him slide inside. My hands drift around his body to cup his ass. I squeeze and he groans again, pushing in a bit deeper. With my hands occupied, it’s hard to control how much of him I take, but he’s not a jerk about it. He doesn’t plunge deep and force any deep-throat action on me. He seems to sense my limits, the same way he senses shit on the ice—when to pass the puck, when to take his time until that perfect opening reveals itself so he can slap one in.

What do you want, Rachel?” he asks. “I want the world,” I reply. “I want to sail around Phuket Island, topless on a yacht. I want to fuck in the gardens at Versailles and get chased out by French police. I want to eat pizza by the hour and drink wine straight from the bottle, stumbling around the streets of Rome at two in the morning. I want to dance in a fountain, Jake. I want to be a doctor and travel the country watching men at the top of their game play hazardous sports. I want to feel their sweat and smell their blood on the ice. I want to live. And I never want to turn an opportunity down out of fear that I’m not conforming to that dream of normal. Because I’m not normal, Jake. We’re not normal. We’re extraordinary. Be extraordinary with me.

underground rivers, where the currents of blood follow ever-smaller branches of arteries until they pass back around into the veins, joining up to larger veins until they reach the surging heart. Red blood cells bounced and rolled along, squeezing through capillaries and then rebounding to their original puck shapes. White blood cells used their lobes to crawl into the vessels through lymphatic ducts, like doorways disguised as bookshelves in a house. And among them traveled the trypanosomes. I have looked at trypanosomes

As Remus stood there, helpless in a gas station parking lot, a very old urge came flooding back. Calf stretches before thigh. Two bottles of water on the bench. Right foot first to step onto the ice. Pasta and marinara before home games, chicken and broccoli before away. Eggs morning of, pancakes after a win. Drag the puck around the goal crease twelve times. Calf stretches before thigh, two bottles of water on the bench, right foot first to step onto the ice, pasta and marinara home, chicken and broccoli away, eggs morning of, pancakes after a win, goal crease, calf, thigh, two bottles, right foot first, pasta, chicken, eggs, win, goal, do it right, win, goal, do something— Remus sat down hard on the curb and put his head in his hands. He tired to remind himself that those were not the things that got him where he was today. But hockey was like that. Half control. Half commitment and work. And half chance. Half sheer dumb luck.

I thought the End of the World was supposed to be filled with monsters and here there be dragons and things like that. I don't see any...oh." I knew by the tone of his voice that I wasn't going to like what I saw next. "Don't tell me." I sighed without turning around. "There's some sort of huge monster out there, and now it's coming toward us." "Okay, I won't tell you." Puck sounded faintly breathless. "And, uh, you probably don't want to look down, either.

Eric?” “Yes?” “If your phone was in your pocket, then what’s that in your hand?” A short, yet awkward silence ensued— “There he is! That’s the pervert who stole my underwear!” —At least, it did until a horde of girls ran up and one of them pointed at Eric before shouting. “Uh-oh.” Eric leapt from his seat. “Here, hold these.” He shoved what he’d been holding into Lindsay’s hands and then bolted. “GET BACK HERE, YOU DAMN PERVERT!” “YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!” Eric shouted back at the girls. Unfortunately, because he had turned his head to do so, he wasn’t watching where he was going and tripped over a chair. The girls used that opportunity to swarm him like hungry piranhas. Soon, the perverted young man’s screams filled the air. Throughout it all, Lindsay sat there, blinking as she looked down at the item in her hands. It was an article of clothing. To be more precise, it was a pair of panties. She stared at the white lace garment in her hands, trying to resist the temptation. Don’t do it, Lindsay. You’re better than this. You’re better than Eric. You don’t want to do this. But she did. She did want to do this. After discreetly looking around to make sure no one was watching her, Lindsay held the panties up to her face and took several deep whiffs. “These… these smell really good,” she mumbled before noticing her audience. Alex and Andrew were gawking at her, their jaws wide enough that a fist could have passed through them, and their eyes the size of hockey pucks. Lindsay blushed and went back to her salad. The rest of lunch was very awkward.

Violet is a riot. She’s probably worse than most of the guys on the team with the stuff that comes out of her mouth. I’m not sure if she’s a nervous person or half-crazy, but she’s entertaining to be around. As

The stranded Daoine Sidhe knights of the Dark Court gathered at the ring of ancient standing stones under the pale light of the harvest moon. Whenever the Daoine Sidhe gathered, they raised the natural energies of the world around them.

Her moan of despair came through the phone all too clearly. “Oh…Christ. Whatever. Kill yourself, fine.” She hung up on him. “Fuck.” He rubbed his face. “Fuck!” Rehv sat up and fired the cell phone at the bedroom door. And just as it ricocheted off the panels and went flying, he realized he’d busted the only thing he had with her number in it. With a roar and a messy scramble, he launched his body off the bed, quilts landing everywhere. Not a great move on his part. As his numb feet hit the throw rug, he went Frisbee, finding air briefly before landing on his face. On impact, a sound like a bomb had gone off rumbled through the floorboards, and he crawled for the phone, tracking the light that still glowed from its screen. Please, oh, fucking please, if there is a God… He was almost in range when the door swung open, narrowly missing his head and clipping the phone—which shot like a hockey puck in the opposite direction. As Rehv wheeled around and lunged for thing, he shouted at Trez. “Don’t shoot me!” Trez was in full fighting stance, gun up and pointed at the window, then the closet, then the bed. “What the fuck was that.” Rehv sprawled out flat to reach the phone, which was spinning under the bed. When he caught it, he closed his eyes and brought it close to his face. “Rehv?” “Please…” “What? Please…what?” He opened his eyes. The screen was flickering, and he pressed the buttons fast. Calls received…calls received…calls r— “Rehv, what the hell is going on?” There it was. The number. He stared at the seven digits after the area code as if they were the combination to his own safe, trying to get them all. The screen went dark and he let his head fall down on his arm. Trez crouched beside him. “You okay?” Rehv pushed himself out from under the bed and sat up, the room spinning like a merry-go-round. “Oh…fuck me.” Trez holstered his gun. “What happened?” “I dropped my phone.” -Ehlena, Rehv, & Trez

He cupped her head with both hands. “You’re full of your own kind of magic, and it’s much more rare and beautiful than all the other spells around you. They are commonplace. You are unique.

Puck helped her out the door, wrapping his arm around her and guiding her through the snowdrifts.

Just about every kid in America wished they could be Kyle Keeley. Especially when he zoomed across their TV screens as a flaming squirrel in a holiday commercial for Squirrel Squad Six, the hysterically crazy new Lemoncello video game. Kyle’s friends Akimi Hughes and Sierra Russell were also in that commercial. They thumbed controllers and tried to blast Kyle out of the sky. He dodged every rubber band, coconut custard pie, mud clod, and wadded-up sock ball they flung his way. It was awesome. In the commercial for Mr. Lemoncello’s See Ya, Wouldn’t Want to Be Ya board game, Kyle starred as the yellow pawn. His head became the bubble tip at the top of the playing piece. Kyle’s buddy Miguel Fernandez was the green pawn. Kyle and Miguel slid around the life-size game like hockey pucks. When Miguel landed on the same square as Kyle, that meant Kyle’s pawn had to be bumped back to the starting line. “See ya!” shouted Miguel. “Wouldn’t want to be ya!” Kyle was yanked up off the ground by a hidden cable and hurled backward, soaring above the board. It was also awesome. But Kyle’s absolute favorite starring role was in the commercial for Mr. Lemoncello’s You Seriously Can’t Say That game, where the object was to get your teammates to guess the word on your card without using any of the forbidden words listed on the same card. Akimi, Sierra, Miguel, and the perpetually perky Haley Daley sat on a circular couch and played the guessers. Kyle stood in front of them as the clue giver. “Salsa,” said Kyle. “Nachos!” said Akimi. A buzzer sounded. Akimi’s guess was wrong. Kyle tried again. “Horseradish sauce!” “Something nobody ever eats,” said Haley. Another buzzer. Kyle goofed up and said one of the forbidden words: “Ketchup!

Just about every kid in America wished they could be Kyle Keeley. Especially when he zoomed across their TV screens as a flaming squirrel in a holiday commercial for Squirrel Squad Six, the hysterically crazy new Lemoncello video game. Kyle’s friends Akimi Hughes and Sierra Russell were also in that commercial. They thumbed controllers and tried to blast Kyle out of the sky. He dodged every rubber band, coconut custard pie, mud clod, and wadded-up sock ball they flung his way. It was awesome. In the commercial for Mr. Lemoncello’s See Ya, Wouldn’t Want to Be Ya board game, Kyle starred as the yellow pawn. His head became the bubble tip at the top of the playing piece. Kyle’s buddy Miguel Fernandez was the green pawn. Kyle and Miguel slid around the life-size game like hockey pucks. When Miguel landed on the same square as Kyle, that meant Kyle’s pawn had to be bumped back to the starting line. “See ya!” shouted Miguel. “Wouldn’t want to be ya!” Kyle was yanked up off the ground by a hidden cable and hurled backward, soaring above the board. It was also awesome. But Kyle’s absolute favorite starring role was in the commercial for Mr. Lemoncello’s You Seriously Can’t Say That game, where the object was to get your teammates to guess the word on your card without using any of the forbidden words listed on the same card. Akimi, Sierra, Miguel, and the perpetually perky Haley Daley sat on a circular couch and played the guessers. Kyle stood in front of them as the clue giver. “Salsa,” said Kyle. “Nachos!” said Akimi. A buzzer sounded. Akimi’s guess was wrong. Kyle tried again. “Horseradish sauce!” “Something nobody ever eats,” said Haley. Another buzzer. Kyle goofed up and said one of the forbidden words: “Ketchup!” SPLAT! Fifty gallons of syrupy, goopy tomato sauce slimed him from above. It oozed down his face and dribbled off his ears. Everybody laughed. So Kyle, who loved being the class clown almost as much as he loved playing (and winning) Mr. Lemoncello’s wacky games, went ahead and read the whole list of banned words as quickly as he could. “Mustard-mayonnaise-pickle-relish.” SQUOOSH! He was drenched by buckets of yellow glop, white sludge, and chunky green gunk. The slop slid along his sleeves, trickled into his pants, and puddled on the floor. His four friends busted a gut laughing at Kyle, who was soaked in more “condiments” (the word on his card) than a mile-

he surprises me when he leaps forward and throws his arms around my neck, squeezing tightly. “I wuv you, Weed.”Jesus, someone’s cutting onions in here again. My heart constricts in my chest with something I never thought I’d ever experience. I lift my arms and wrap them around his tiny body, and we stay like that. Embracing. Me fighting back misty eyes, and Holland gazing at us with tears in hers. “I love you too, buddy.

The Chad McBoatface hogging all the air next to me hasn't stopped talking for ten minutes. This walking Patagonia model must not be able to read, because I've got 'FUCK OFF' all but stamped across my forehead.

Fuck, she’s the girl I want to kiss for the rest of my life. I don’t care how crazy that sounds.

Ten months,” I say, my gaze locked on her. “Ride out your contract. I’ll play nice.” I lean in. “But the second it’s over, you’re mine, Seattle. You’re not leaving me again.

Saatana,” I curse as I nearly take a puck to the face. It whacks off the crossbar and hits my shoulder before dropping into the net. White scores because I was too busy watching my coach flirt with the pretty doctor to guard my damn goal.

Jake and Caleb are pretty boys—perfect jaws, cheekbones for days, the floppy jock hair. All-American athletes. But Mars is…wild. He looks like the toughest guy on a hockey team had sex with a Viking and made a super baby.

How long will the hazing last?” I say, glancing at Hillary. She purses her lips. “With how pretty you are? My guess is forever.” “Great,” I mutter. This is going to be the longest ten months of my life.

CALEB (2:07PM): I had nothing to do with this. Asshole took my phone UNKNOWN (2:07PM): And now I have your number. Just face it, we’re inevitable, Seattle That message is followed up with a picture of Jake giving ‘fuck me’ eyes. Then a second of him with Caleb in a headlock. I groan. Just slather me with butter and jam because I am so fucking toast.

Tess just rolls her eyes. “Trust me when I say that no straight man on this earth would consider it a punishment to get an unsolicited tit pic from Rachel Price.

You give me a chance, and I’ll be so damn good to you. I’ll treat you so right, baby. You’re it for me.

I don’t melt for you, Jake Compton,” she murmurs, holding my gaze. “I burn.” With that, she slips over my knee and darts out of the van. Oh, baby girl, the chase is so fucking on.

How’s a guy supposed to compete with a surfing, sun-kissed Edward Cullen?

Are you seriously worried that I will?” “Of course, I am! You’re both so fucking smart. She’s a doctor and you were a chemistry major in college. You won all those awards,” I say with a wave of my hand. “You have way more in common with her than I do, Cay. The minute you set your tough guy bullshit aside and actually try for her, she’ll fall in love with you. Hard. And then I’ll lose her. She’ll walk away right into your kinky daddy dom arms. I’ll be the ring bearer at your wedding.

I cross my arms over my braless tits. No way is he getting more of a show from me today. He’s seen my dildo and now he’s seen me in my underwear. He’s not getting a glimpse of the girls too.

I’m not being self-deprecating here,” I add quickly. “My heart didn’t feel complete with Mars missing. And yours doesn’t feel complete without him. It doesn’t hurt my feelings to know with total clarity that I’m not enough for you, Cay. We are complex, emotional beings that live such full and beautiful lives. To think that one singular person can provide us with everything we need to best live out that life is…well, silly,” I add with a shrug.

I cross my arms over my braless tits. No way is he getting more of a show from me today. He’s seen my dildo and now he’s seen me in my underwear.

I had a stranger fondling my dildo in public—a dildo I totally use, by the way,

Rachel and Jake. Why does the thought of them together turn me on as much as it terrifies me?

I don’t melt for you, Jake Compton,” she murmurs, holding my gaze. “I burn.

He makes me believe that home isn't a place. It's a feeling.

mine, Seattle. You’re not leaving me again.

really think I could forget my Seattle Girl? Baby, you’re all I think about.