#i like to think the second one is followed by Joel giggling uncontrollably at the sneefs. because im normal about people laughing

[sharpilu]

werewolf!Etho x rabbit!Joel...i'm normal

i planned on doing a third one of them cuddling while Etho isn't full werewolf, but. i didn't feel like it.

[pedropascalsx]

Restless Spirits. Joel Miller x F! Reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Word Count: 2.4k.

Summary: Joel finds respite in you after being visited by the ghosts of his past.

Warnings: P in V sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Oral (F) Receiving, Creampie, Fingering, Squirting, Some Angst and Mentions of Child Loss. 

A/N: This is my first attempt at smut for Joel. I hope you like it.

Thank you to my loves @djarinispunkk @theewokingdead & @chaoticgeminate for reading this over and providing support. 

And a big hug to my beloved @foli-vora​ for providing feedback, support and encouraging me to continue with it!

The grip on your hips is bruising, you want to wince from the pain but you know that he needs this. He needs you to be pliant, he needs you to be still, he needs to mindlessly fuck you until the only thing his body feels is a wave a euphoria that’ll be quickly followed by exhaustion. He needs to wear out his already tired body until it can’t do anything except succumb to whatever amount of sleep his brain will give him.

This isn’t about your pleasure, he’ll give that to you tomorrow, or maybe when he wakes during the night. But right now this is almost for survival, a quick respite from the hell that’s currently ravishing his bones and tormenting his mind. 

“Take it,” he grunts as his hand fists your ponytail, his rhythm getting sloppy and sloppier as he nears high. “Good- good fucking girl.”

He pulls out and fists his cock furiously for a few moments before groaning in pleasure as thick’s ropes of his seed start to coat your thighs. 

*

You can’t help but think about that look in his eyes from earlier. Before the ghosts of his past unknowingly haunted whatever hope he held for the future.

It’s a look you think you’ve seen once before, but you can’t quite place it. His eyes had something that years ago someone would have described as a glimmer of hope and maybe that’s what it was, but it just seems easier to disregard it as desperation. But right now you can’t. 

She was giggling like a child, the shredded remains of a newspaper printed decades earlier crumbled up in her hands as she read an obscure comic strip of a large ginger lasagna loving cat. 

Youth coats every inch of her face, she’s still tiny in stature, puberty is still very much a work in progress but still it’s easy to forget that she’s a child.

The way she talks, the unexplainable bravery she exhibits… and then in these passing moments she’ll remind me that she is just a child. One who giggles uncontrollably at stupid comics. 

He studied her for a few moments, he watched the way her eyes lit up as she laughed, it was like for a second he truly believed she could be the way out of all of this. And then it fizzled out. The demons he’s created in his mind coming out of the woodwork to shame him for feeling anything but numbness or a crippling sadness that he attempts to disguise with anger and an unfriendliness. 

After a few seconds he simply got up and left without saying another word, possibly to down a shot of whiskey or to quietly think about the daughter that lives on through his unwavering pain. He doesn’t speak about her ever; you only found out she existed through Tess. And Tess made it abundantly clear that any conversation that involves his daughter is strictly off limits. 

Instead he wears the pain of losing her on his face, it lingers in his bones and bleeds out of him like a wound that’s begging to be

cauterized and causes him to seek solace in debauchery and drink. And you can’t blame him. You never would. 

You’ve never experienced that kind of loss, you didn’t know your parents, you were the product of two fools that didn’t think before they acted and left in the hospital you were born in. Raised by the church for a while, before the epidemic hit and then you were carted off to a school for orphans. They attempted to protect you from the hell that you were living in, but you’d seen things, heard things that made your skin crawl. And the day you turned 18, you were left to fend for yourself.

Ten years on you still go to bed resenting the way they didn’t prepare any of you. Instead they made you sit in classrooms and learn about a country that had since crumbled and rotted away as the dead took over the cities and started to line every crack in each pavement. 

You’re awakened from your thoughts by the sound of metal hitting the concrete. Her beloved knife slamming against the cold ground after a miscalculation of her party trick. “Be careful,” you tell her and she shoots you back a look that could kill you instantly. 

“I’m hungry,” she eventually says after getting bored of her knife and losing interest in the comic, “Where’s Joel?” 

“He’s in the other room,” you say as you silently order her to remain, “He’s tired. He needs a break and you have food in your backpack.” 

She scoffs loudly in response this time, her signature eye roll accompanies it and you can’t help but choke out a laugh. “Eat. And get some rest. Lord knows how long we will be staying here.” 

*

It’s cold. Colder than it has been in the past few weeks. A sign that winter is well under way and is likely about to get a whole lot worse. You’re holed up in an abandoned apartment. The building was surprisingly clear and secluded enough for him to deem fit to stay. 

Of course he insisted that the large bookcase from the hallway was to be pushed in front of the door but seemed to almost relax a little when he realized there was no balcony or other way of entering or leaving the apartment than the front door.

Ellie had perked up a little once she saw the amount of reading material in the place, old newspapers, magazines and books. Enough to keep her entertained for a little while and a mattress that didn’t look too dirty in a room that she could have to herself. You were assigned the living room couch and Joel took the other room. He gave you a silent nod that told you to join him once she was definitely asleep.

Creeping into his room, you're surprised to find him awake. Silently watching you as you tiptoe over to the bed he’s sprawled out on and carefully climbing into. 

“She asleep?” he asks as you tuck yourself in.

“Yeah. For at least an hour.” 

He hums and your stomach flutters at the way his southern drawl seems to drip into every sound he makes. 

“You tired, girl?” he asks as his eyes dart around the room seemingly looking at everything but you. 

“No.” You respond and he wastes no time, he pulls the blanket from you and starts gesturing for you to take off your panties.

“Good, ‘cause last time you didn’t cum,” are the last words you hear from him before he’s impatiently yanking your underwear down the rest of your legs and spreading them in front of him. 

Joel isn’t generally the most patient man but at this moment you’d never know. He’s got you exactly how he likes you, bare to him, pliant and ready to take whatever he’ll give you. And right now he’s savouring the view, slowly palming at the obvious bulge in his threadbare boxer shorts whilst bringing his tongue out to wet his lips.

“The prettiest goddamn pussy I ever saw,” he mumbles before running a finger through your slit and tutting at the obscene amount of arousal that coats it, “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you whimper as his fingers work magic on your clit, “It’s all for you.”

“You gonna be a good girl and keep quiet for me?” he asks before ripping his fingers away.

“Yes,” you immediately moan out, the loss of his fingers making you groan beneath him.

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, Sir.”

His face immediately dives into your pussy, his tongue licks a wide stripe through your folds and you whimper his name as his groans vibrate against your core; as he laps up the arousal that had started to spread down your thighs. The taste of you is heaven. Tangy yet sweet and the noises that filter through your lips as his tongue flicks against your bundle of nerves makes his cock throb even harder with need. 

“Please,” you whisper as he teases a finger around your vagina, circling the entrance a few times before chuckling, “Please, Sir.” 

And without a beat he thrusts two of his thick digits into your heat, curling them up into that spot that only he is able to find before thrusting them in and out of you.

He groans in delight as your fingers entangle in his locks, pulling on his curls as he sucks on your clit. You quietly chant his name as his lips let go of your clit, and his tongue begins its glorious assault on your bundle of nerves again. A moan of his name falls from your mouth before your thighs are squeezing tighter around his head and your pussy is clamping down around his fingers. It’s glorious, white explodes behind your eyes as your body convulses from the pleasure he rips from you.

He doesn’t stop, his tongue continues to lap against your clit, his fingers continue to work their magic inside of you and it becomes clear that this isn’t coming to be the only one he’s pulling from you with his mouth. 

His fingers curl up against that spot inside of you one more time and you see stars, your body trembles and an intense pressure builds and immediately snaps as a trickle of liquid gushes from you and coats his face. 

“Oh, fuck,” you splutter as you realize what you did, “I’ve never done… I’m sorry.”

You fingers unclench in his hair as you gently move his face away, finally getting a glimpse at the way your arousal is glistening on his face and beard.

“You apologize again and I’ll give you something to apologize for, pretty girl,” he warns before bringing the fingers that were buried in your cunt to his mouth and sucking them clean, “You want to sleep? Or do you want me to fuck this pretty little pussy?”

“You already know,” you mumble as you writhe beneath him, studying his face as he licks his lips, his eyes still focusing on your glistening cunt.

“Yeah, but I ain’t doing shit until I hear you say it, pretty girl.” He says as his eyes slowly sweep up your body and burrow into yours.

“I want you to fuck me, sir,” you say as he pushes your t-shirt above your tits, and bends down to take a nipple in his mouth. His teeth grazing the sensitive bud before his lips envelope it and he sucks hard. You moan quietly as he snakes his hand between you both and starts rubbing your overstimulated clit. He chuckles as you hiss as he works your clit. “I need you to fuck me, Joel.” 

He lets go of your nipple with a loud pop before shaking his head. “Not good enough, girl,” he taunts before moving across to the other nipple. 

“Please, Joel,” you beg as his nimble fingers work your clit a little harder and faster, “Need you inside of me. Need you to take whatever you need from… Please, please, sir, -ooh- please fuck me.”

His tongue teases your nipple as he pulls a third orgasm from you, “Let’s make this pretty pussy come around my cock, pretty girl.”

He finally pushes his boxers down and lets his cock break free, it bobs up and down a few times before he takes it in hand and strokes himself roughly a few times. You wet your lips at the sight, the tip of him almost purple with a bead of pre-cum that’s begging to be licked clear. 

He reaches over and grabs his pillow with his free hand and you lift your hips for him ready to place it beneath you.

“Be a good girl and keep quiet for me now,” he orders as he lines himself up to your entrance and slowly pushes himself in. Your breath hitches at the stretch of him, and he takes it slow. No matter how many takes he fucks you, the way he fills your tight heat always takes a few moments for you to get used to.

“Like a fucking glove,” he murmurs as he waits for the okay to move, “Always feels so perfect around me.” 

“Fuck me,” you moan as clamp down around him, “I need you to move.” 

Without missing a beat, he pulls out and immediately pushes back in, his hips finding a steady rhythm as he fucks into you. His thrusts are perfectly precise; his cock dragging against that spot inside of you with every punch of his hips. “Good girl,” he grunts, “Always taking my cock so fucking good.” 

You keen at his praise, your walls fluttering around his cock as he builds you up and towards the edge of paradise once more and then you see it.

It’s fleeting, unbearably quick and almost undetectable but you catch it. That look in his eyes again. The one that almost resembles hope, this time aimed at you and this time replaced by a look of exhilaration instead of misery as you clamp down around him. He continues thrusting in and out as you deliriously chant his name. You feel the warmth of his pleasure begin to coat your walls as you rip free his pleasure. A groan of delight floods the air with every one of his thrusts until you’ve milked him dry. 

His mouth possessively envelopes yours and takes you by surprise as his tongue licks its way into your mouth. You keen at the feeling of his fingers gripping your jaw as he swallows the moans you breathe into his mouth. His teeth capture your bottom lip and he gently nibbles before letting it go and resting his forehead on yours. 

You see it one more time, just as briefly as before, his lips slightly curling upwards before the ghosts of his past chase it away. 

Hope? Excitement? Happiness?

He retrieves his pillow from your underneath your hips and snuggles down beside you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face into your neck. 

“So, no one has ever made you squirt before, pretty girl?” He mumbles into your skin and you can feel the grin that’s clearly spreading across his face.

“Go to sleep, Miller,” you murmur back as you close your eyes. Enjoying the warmth of his skin settling onto yours. 

Maybe you won’t ever truly know what it is, but what you do know is that you’ll give him whatever he needs to see it pass through his eyes again.

[letaliabane]

Last Connection

warnings: MAJOR spoilers for last of us 2!!

pairing: joel miller x reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 2K words

prompts (If you would like to request a prompt, please include the name of the list and the number of the prompts)

21. A chaste kiss given to each other because they are in mixed company (50 Types of Kisses Prompts)

27. Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap (50 Types of Kisses Prompts)

‘I still can’t believe that bigot Seth said that in front of everyone! Couldn’t just keep to himself could he?’

Leaning against the open doorway, I watched Joel as he paced across the back deck. He had only just returned from the small get together Tommy and Maria had put together in the main hall. 

I had skipped out due to the queasiness in my stomach that I had been feeling for the past few days. But it wasn’t too long before I heard shouts of disdain erupt from the area, watching from the bedroom window as Joel made his was back to the house, silent as many of the other men of Jackson yelling after him.

‘So he called Dina and Ellie a-’

‘A dyke, that's what he called them.’

I shook my head, scoffing in disgust. Many people in Jackson weren’t as modernised as the young groups within the settlement, and many of them were just plain old bigots.

‘Well, in that case he deserved what he had coming to him. I’m glad you knocked some sense into him.’ 

Joel just huffed, collapsing against the chair resting against the wall, running a hand down his face.

‘Y/N ... Ellie wasn’t happy. She was quite forward with me, told me to keep out of it.’

I sighed, remaining silent. 

I knew why there was so much tension between the two. When they had returned to Jackson, Joel confessed to escaping with Ellie from the hospital where she was to be operated on, explaining how he couldn’t just give up the girl he came to see as his own daughter. I didn’t question his motives, only took him into my arms, and hugged him tightly.

However a few months ago, when the two were on the lookout, they returned a week later than promised, both silent, and Ellie ignoring Joel at all costs. That’s when I realised and was later confirmed, that she had found out the truth about why they had left the hospital.

He glanced towards me, sighing heavily before tapping his thigh. I made my way over to him, sitting on his lap and wrapping my arms around him, allowing him to lean his head against my chest.

‘Just give her time. I know that’s the last thing you want to do but just allow her to come around.’

He hummed against my neck as I ran my fingertips through the ends of his hair. I looked down as Joel pulled away, squeezing my cheek gently, ‘You have any idea of how much I love you?’

I smile at his words, pretending to think, ‘Well, I think I have some idea.’ 

He chuckles, quickly pecking me to quiet me down, pressing an even firmer kiss barely seconds later, pulling me close against his chest, his hand gripping the back of my head and waist. 

It was only when the distant knocking upon wood rang through the rest of the house that I pulled away, Joel groaning as I did. ‘No, just ignore it-’

‘But darling that would be impolite,’ I say with a giggle as he rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he reached for his guitar that rested against the wooden railings. Quickly, I crossed the house, opening the door to find Ellie, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck. 

‘Hey Ellie, how you doing this evening?’ 

She smiled gently, walking forward into my open arms, squeezing me tightly. 

‘Hey Y/N, I’m alright. Um-Is Joel back? I noticed he left early tonight and I just wanted to check in on him.’

‘Of course, come in, he’s just out back.’ She nodded, making her way in, but as I shut the door, I noticed she wavered, nervously picking at the skin of her nails.

‘What is it El?’

She looked up, wide-eyed before sighing, ‘I may have snapped at him at the dance. I’m guessing he told you.’

I nodded, still smiling, ‘He did indeed. But I think you two need to talk more than anything else. He really wants things to be good with you El. I just hope you know all he has is good intentions towards you.’

Ellie nodded, giving me a weak smile before I nodded towards the back door where the strumming of the guitar could be heard, ‘Go on.’  

I groaned as I was shaken awake gently at the shoulder, sighing as Joel’s lips grazed my ear, ‘Sweetheart I’m heading out.’

‘Already? It’s not even light out yet,’ I murmur tiredly, barely peaking my eyes open as I glanced towards the bedroom door where Tommy stood, his gun over his shoulder. 

‘Sorry to pull him away from you Y/N, but watch just sighted a hoard of infected and we’re the next on duty so I thought we should take care of it as quickly as possible.’ 

I waved him away. ‘No, no! Duty calls Tommy. Just bring him back in one piece and I’ll spare you.’ 

He chuckled, giving you a nod, ‘Will do.’ 

I looked back up to Joel, cupping his face gently with a sleepy grin, ‘Come back to me, alright cowboy?’

‘Always,’ He said with a small smirk as he gave me a chaste kiss, pressing one more to my forehead before following his younger brother out of the room. 

I couldn’t help but wrap my shawl around my shoulders as I padded towards the window, watching as the two mounted their horses before disappearing into the thick smog. 

A few hours later, after completing a few chores around the house, I sat on the front porch, embroidering blossoming carnations into the satin Joel had found spare in one of the knitting baskets left behind in one of the houses he had scoured through on duty. 

I sighed softly as I paused, taking a look over my work with a smile when I heard shouting and cries in the distance. I peered up to see people moving towards the entrance of the settlement, discarding the embroidery ring to also follow the crowd.

As I grew closer I could hear gasps of horror, crying and yells of anguish. Pushing through I made my way to the front, stopping at the sight of Ellie. 

Blood and bruises painted her face, helped by Dina and Jesse shoulder to shoulder, barely standing on her feet. At the sight of me, a sob left her lips as she threw herself at me, clinging to me as she cried uncontrollably. 

'Ellie? Sweetheart what’s the matter?’ 

When she continued to cry, I looked towards her friends, their heads turned away with tears filling their eyes. It was only when my eyes fell upon Tommy that I noticed the wrapped up body on the back of his horse. 

‘Tommy?’

It felt as if the air had left me as I pulled away from Ellie, stumbling towards Tommy as he laid the body down in the snow. 

‘Tommy who is that?!’ His eyes flickered up towards me, rimmed red, swollen as I stood before him, my chest rising and falling quickly as he just shook his head. 

‘I’m so sorry Y/N.’ 

I pulled away from him, shaking my head as I looked down once again at the body, the cloth that was tightly wrapped around it stained with patches of blood. I fell to my knees, my hand shaking as I pulled the sheet away, only for a choked gasp to leave my lips. 

The man’s face was barely recognisable, face bloodied, bruised, and crushed. It was only for the small brooch that was on the coat that I recognized instantly. A blue carnation. 

The tears fell fast as I grasped Joel’s face ever so carefully as if he was made of porcelain glass. 

‘Joel? God no please ...’ I whimpered, pressing my forehead to his cheek, ignoring the fresh blood that painted my face as I press kisses to his cold skin, gripping his lifeless hand to my chest. 

‘Darling please open your eyes. Please, please ...’ 

The cries that left me where loud, the words that left me almost inaudible as I struggled to breathe, my hands roaming Joel’s body, shaking him as if he was in a deep sleep. 

I staggered to my feet, taking a mere few steps backwards before collapsing, someone clambering to grab me, eyes slipping shut as Ellie distantly called my name. 

A WEEK LATER

I awoke suddenly as knocking echoed throughout the house, whimpering softly as I unwrapped Joel’s large coat from around me. I couldn’t help but sigh heavily, pressing the material against my cheek, inhaling the smell of wood, pine, his strong cologne- 

I flinched when a second round of knocking erupted through the house, and slowly, I made my way out of bed, pulling on the coat as I made my way through the silent house. 

Opening the door, I paused at the sight of Ellie and Dina, giving them a very tired smile. Both had dark circles under their eyes, drained and emotionally exhausted.

‘Afternoon ladies, come on in.’ 

Ellie nodded quietly, walking straight inside. Dina on the other hand, paused to embrace me, just as quickly pulling away as she squeezed my hand, leading me inside. 

‘How are you Y/N?’

‘As best as I can be Dina.’ She nodded with a smile, not pushing any further on the subject before following me to the dining room where Ellie fidgeted, once again playing with the skin at her nails as she had weeks before. 

‘The things are upstairs El, I’ll get it for you.’ 

She nodded, ‘I’ll come with you.’ 

I made my way up, distantly hearing Dina explain she’d remain downstairs. Reentering the bedroom, I made my way over to a table. As I took up the box, I glanced over the photo of Joel and Sarah, and the second of him and Ellie. 

A great sadness filled my chest as I turned once more to Ellie who stood not too far away, taking in the many carvings Joel had completed recently, some unvarnished, some half painted. 

‘Here is what I found after clearing his clothes, I think he would like you to have these.’ 

She took the box carefully, opening it with a gasp as she sighted Joel’s gun as well a pair of his jeans and jacket that I knew still had his smell. Ellie looked up at me, lip trembling as the tears filled her eyes. 

‘Y/N I’m going after Abby. I know Tommy probably told you and wants you to stop me but you can’t I’m still gonna go after them because I can’t let them get away with this-’

‘Ellie,’ I stopped her, placing my hands on her shoulders, ‘I will not stop you. And I know that even if I tried you would still go. And Tommy and Maria will completely disagree, but I would do the same thing.‘

Her eyes widened, almost hopeful, ‘Then come with us! Y/N we can do it-we can take her together-’

‘I would Ellie ... if I wasn’t pregnant.’ 

‘W-what?’ Ellie said, the box falling from her grip, slamming against the floor. I sighed softly, taking her hands into mine, ‘I found out a few days before he-you know. I was waiting to tell him when he returned from patrol.’ 

‘Oh Y/N ... why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Because you have enough on your plate sweetheart. I’m sorry for keeping it from you I just didn’t want to stop you from your journey. I would come along, I really would, but this is our last connection to Joel, and I’d hate to throw it away. But Ellie, know that I believe in what you’re doing, and always know that I will be here for you if you decide to come home because you were always mine and Joel’s baby girl.’

The loud sob that erupted from the young girl’s throat tore my heart, her arms wrapping around me, holding me tight to her as she cried into my shoulder, tears staining Joel’s jacket. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, my own tears falling against her hair, squeezing her tighter.

A/N: THIS WAS SUPER LONG I APOLOGISE. But I’ve had this idea in my head for ages I thought I’d write it. I think I may make an epilogue? We’ll see. ALSO PLEASE DON’T COMMENT SPOILERS, I HAVEN’T ENTIRELY FINISHED THE GAME STILL FINISHING IT! 

Requests are open for Last of Us Requests! You can also request with prompts just remember the list(s) and number(s) you wanna include. 

Masterlist

[queeniewriteshockey]

Playoff Loss || BDJ + Reader

Brendan De Jong + Reader Requested - Sorta. More like HEAVILY encouraged. You know who you are. All... two of you LOL. I wasn’t going to write anything for the WHL players I follow closely but I have a few persistent people in my life who encourage bad behavior. Sorry... Not sorry.  Word Count: 2,037 Summary - Winterhawks lose 3-4 in OT to make the playoff series 3-1 SPO

The stands are moderately packed, the crowd is loud. It's hard to believe it's a weekday game with how many people fill the seats. You can feel the charge in the air. The stress and the panic that comes with a playoff game. It's not an elimination game, but the fear hangs off people, dragging their smiles to the ground and suffocating their good moods. This isn't your first playoff game, it isn't even your first playoff year. You were there last year, in the stands as your boyfriend's team was eliminated in the second round.

You know what's at stake, understand that it's hard on all the players, particularly the overagers. You saw it last year, but you see it more, this year. Perhaps because your boyfriend is one of those overagers. Each loss takes him a step closer to playing his last game with the team. It's not an easy feeling for you. It's worse for him. You know the stress and worry that's been plaguing his mind - the team's mind - of late. It's not one person on the team, it's not just him, its all of them. They are a family and they work as one.  They win together, they lose together. That's how one plays the game. At least, that's how the Winterhawks play.

You don't get to see him before the game like you wanted to. It's spring break, school is out, but you still have a job to deal with. Your boss held you over, some asinine project that needed to be finished then and there despite his knowing you had tickets to the game. He must really hate you, considering he knew traffic through Portland to the VMC was going to be a nightmare in rush hour. You get there just in time to miss warmies. Number 21 skates off the ice just as the song came to an end signaling that everyone should follow him back to the locker room. You barely catch sight of the name De Jong on the back of the jersey before it's gone.

You try not to let it color your mood as you find your seat. You've got his jersey around your waist and a sweatshirt you stole from his closet on over your work clothing. You rock the look, even if you do look like you're swimming in the sweatshirt. It's easy to forget how big he is when he's on the ice, a blur of white and red and black, but when you wear his clothing you're reminded of the fact that he's 6'5 and a solid foot and nearly a half, taller than you.

The Winterhawks sweatshirt keeps you warm and cozy in the cold arena. It smells like him and it makes you feel like he's right behind you, his arms wrapped comfortably around you. This feeling becomes increasingly important as the game begins. The first minute and a half of the game makes you groan, but you're not willing to let it get you down. So what they scored? You know they can get that goal back.

And they do!

It isn't just anyone on the team, though. It isn't one of the many forwards that make plays, sets up goals and catches rebounds. It wasn't the point scorers of the team, this time. This time it was a D Man. Your D Man. You're out of your seat, voice screaming to the rafters even before the light above the goal goes off. You saw the goal a second before anyone else because of course, you did. You can't help it, when Brendan's on the ice, your focus is almost solely on him. He's not a point scorer, though he has gotten riskier when it comes to taking shots. He's got a hell of a slap shot, but that wasn't what this goal was. It was around the Chiefs D and through their goalie's legs. What a beautiful shot and you scream yourself hoarse. You doubt he can hear you, but he knows where you sit and you see him look up at you, even through the celly.

The game moves in a hopeful way, Patty scoring two more unanswered goals before the third period takes all the wind out of your sails. The crowd grows frantic and the mood becomes somber, even Tommy and the Rosebuds can't bring the mood around. It really dies the last minute of the game when instead of looking at a win, you're staring at a full-length overtime period. You could have cried when the tieing goal got past Joel but the tears come when the Chiefs are giving the power play for Mannek being an idiot. With the strongest PP in the league, you knew what was coming, even before it happened. It was like waiting for the trainwreck you knew was going to happen but being unable to stop it from taking place. You were helpless in the stands and despondent as the buzzer sounded and the boys made their way to the locker room.

You file out of the VMC with all the other sad and depressed fans, politely ignoring the drunk Spokane fans who try to rub the loss in your face. You will not let it get you down. You will not show your disappointment, even if you are disappointed. You know for a fact that if you’re disappointed, your boyfriend is downright pissed off.

He's so calm when you finally see him exit the arena and meet you at the spot you'd designated yours over a year ago, but the hardness of his eyes tell you the calm sits just on the surface. A glass-smooth lake, hiding the dangers of the treacherous journey before you. You chew on your bottom lip as you watch him wave off Blich and a few of the other guys, hands stuffed in your pockets.

"Hey," you say as he gets closer to you. His smile is sweet, but it doesn't reach his blue eyes. They're too lidded, hidden behind exhaustion and disappointment. You understand the look and don't bother to ask how he's doing. You know how he's doing.

"Hey," he says softly as his arm wraps around your shoulder. He pauses for a moment, examining your outfit before an actual smile curls around his lips. "I should have suspected you were the reason I couldn't find this." He plucks at your sweatshirt before he leans down and presses a kiss to your lips. "I blamed Blich, I guess I should apologize."

You can't help but chuckle at him. He should have suspected you. What a knucklehead. "Why would you blame him? Everyone knows you're the one stealing his clothing," you glance down at his pants, which were typically no less than two inches too short for the giant. They weren't Blich's but you liked to give him hell for the high waters he typically sported anyway. It was a running joke that they belonged to Joachim, given the height difference between the two of them.  "Not the other way around."

"One time," he tells you indignantly as he pokes you in the forehead. It makes you fall apart laughing, both remembering that he had in fact actually worn Blich's sweater and that it was one time but you weren't going to let him live it down.

"On TV. You did it on TV. People SAW you! Brendan, you wear number 21. Blich is 20." The mood he was in when he came out of the locker room slips in the wake of your uncontrolled giggles and a smile cracks wide over his lips. Even a laugh sounds from somewhere deep in his throat.

"You know what?" He says, quickly, wrapping his arm around your waist and tossing you over his shoulder. "That's enough out of you."

You squeal sharply, inhaling a large gasp of breath as you find yourself no longer standing on the ground but looking at it from much higher up. "If you think this is going to shut me up," you say through giggles, "you got another thing coming big guy."

He laughs at you and starts walking off in the direction of your car. Or well, he assumed. One of these days you'd park somewhere else and really throw him off his game. Tonight was not that night, though.

You prob your head up on your elbow, the point of it digging lightly into the round of his ass. “I like this view,” you tell him, a grin coloring your words though it went unseen from behind him. 

After a moment he sets you down on the ground, a smirk on those lips you love so much and leans down to speak. This wouldn't be such a notable thing if you weren't so much shorter than him. "I like a challenge," he says quickly.

A shiver runs through your body at his words and you have to shake yourself out of your thoughts before he leaves you at the VMC. He's already four of his strides ahead of you and you have to run to catch up to him. "You're a tease!"

"Is it teasing if it's true?" He asks, not bothering to look back at you.

It takes all your speed and all your strength to leap at him and wrap your arms around his neck. It's nothing you haven't done a million times, though, so he's ready to grab your legs and lift you the rest of the way. Once you've settled yourself comfortably against his back and he's giving you a piggy back ride the rest of the way to the car, you press a kiss to his cheek and rest your chin on his shoulder.

You settle into a gentle silence as he walks, content with where you're at. He makes the world quiet around you and allows you to see the beauty in everything, even a loss like tonight. "I love you," you say softly. It seems like such a random statement, but when you speak it seems like the only thing you should say after a game like tonight.

A little grunt meets your ears and he turns his head slightly to press a kiss to your head. "Love you, too," he tells you though it comes out more like a sigh than anything else.

"You played well tonight, you know?" You ask because sometimes you're pretty sure he forgets that. Sometimes you're pretty sure he blames himself for the failures of the defense. Just like the awful fans who spew garbage on social media. "That goal was amazing! Did you hear me screaming? I'll probably have no voice tomorrow," you laugh a little,  "Lucky you."

He laughs too, this time it's more full. It sounds more like himself. "I couldn't really hear anything where I was. It was all just noise." You knew that, but you still had hope that he heard you. "The guys rushed me so fast I couldn't really find you in the crowd, but I knew you were there."

"That's what matters. It was a pretty sweet goal. Patty's were too." You like Josh, even if you don't know him all that well.

"Hof is being hard on himself, but Blich shut that down hard. Even Cody had something to say on the subject."

You smile into your boyfriend's shoulder but don't say much else on the subject. Joel was a good goalie, he didn't deserve the heat he caught for the last games. It's a team effort. Win together. Lose together. "It's good Cody was there, even if he wasn't playing."

"Yeah," Brendan agrees as he reaches your car. He holds out his hand as you slide down and plant yourself on the ground. "We've missed him. It was nice having him there."

You toss your key's Brendan's way and wait patiently as he opens the passenger side door for you. "You'll get 'em on Saturday. It's not over yet." It wasn't and you weren't going to let yourself or anyone else think it was. Saturday was a new game. They could do this. You had faith in them. "And I'll be there watching."

He presses another kiss to your lips, silently thanking you for your positive thinking. Neither of you wanted to consider that a loss meant no more playoffs. You especially didn't want to think that a loss meant his time in the WHL was over. A loss just wasn't allowed.