#the last of us jesse imagine

[heartpascal]

joel’s place

▹— joel miller x platonic!reader, hints of jesse x reader

▹— summary: you visit the cemetery

▹— a/n: this is inspired by the song robert’s place, simon robert french. i think it fits the situation perfectly :( — also i wrote this over many months so it may read a bit inconsistent, sorry! it also isn’t proofread, and by the end might’ve turned into just a string of consciousness idk

▹— warnings: major character death, grief and all that follows, mentions of scars & previous injuries, TLOU 2 SPOILERS, once again MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, lots of angst, talk of canon typical violence, abby mentioned, ellie and dina mentioned, also can be read as platonic for jesse i think, long lasting injury effects (please add if there’s more! i’m rusty)

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything!) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915  @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa  @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @miss-celestial-being @hqkon (pedro!)

MASTERLIST if you can click on my masterlist, you can also do your daily clicks!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Eventually, the snow bled into summer.

Time tumbled and warped, moved on, the world spinning, seasons changing and months passing by like nothing had ever happened. Sometimes, when you wake up, the sun shining in your eyes from a gap between curtains, the world feeling warm, you could pretend that nothing had. That the world was as it had once been.

And in the moments of waking, that’s easy. It’s second nature to slip into the past, into better times, where autumn fell and so did you. Where everything felt right in the world.

That, unsurprisingly, didn’t last very long.

But still.

You’re here, your house in Jackson unchanged, despite the year passing by unrelentingly. The only difference being the bloom of flowers at your doorstep, colours bright in the warm sun.

And you, of course.

If you’re honest, it’s probably you that changed the most.

With scars in new places, still aching with a pain that you were certain would never go away. Hair cut shorter, choppier, done by you in the middle of the night some time in the spring. Then there’s the shakiness to your hands, the tremors that linger despite the warmth. A slight limp when you would inevitably tread wrong on your ankle. And a new age to your face, a new hardship reflected in the bags that continue to weigh you down, after all this time.

You’re not sure that the people who were lost that winter would recognise you, had they been here now. There was a whole new air about you, too, lingering in every space you stepped into.

But still. You try not to think too much about it.

Instead, you gather a handful of flowers from your doorstep, bunched together into a makeshift bouquet that you tie with twine. The remaining blooms get a splash of water before you’re setting off from your house, stepping on soft grass until you reach the road.

From there, you wander along the path you know so well, that you have walked so many times. Gravel crunches underneath your soles with every step, unearthing the split second longer it takes for you to put weight on your ankle. It still hurts, but you don’t mind so much anymore. It allows some of your pain to be physical, rather than emotional. It’s a small mercy, really.

People used to call out to you when you walked this route, but they know better now, and don’t bother you when you carry flowers. That, you think, is a small mercy, too.

If you were to glance to your left, you’d see his house. Instead, you focus on your feet, ensuring you don’t roll your ankle again. As much as you try, you can’t accept that there’s someone other than him living there now. You don’t want to see his name pried off of the mailbox, Miller outlined from the five years that the sun bleached the uncovered wood around it.

You like to think that he’s still in there, somewhere, just down the hall. So long as you don’t look, Joel lives on in that house.

You could almost pretend that you weren’t going to his new home. His final home. His resting place, Tommy had called it once. But if you knew anything about Joel, you knew that the man couldn’t rest, not even in Jackson. Not fully. You’ve resigned to calling it Joel’s place.

It comes into view quickly, a mere stone’s throw from his house, and like every other time, you feel dread.

A wave of it crashes over you, leaving you gaping for air. It sinks down your throat and fills your lungs, your stomach, your very being. It’s an all consuming thing. You know his name is going to be carved upon a stone, instead of the mailbox where it should be, and every time you come here, it shatters the illusion. Each time, you have to pick up the pieces, and painstakingly put it back together again.

The flowers sit nicely, giving his place a burst of colour. It makes that pit in your throat open up again, and threaten to swallow your tongue. You know Joel wasn’t really a flower guy, but there’s not much else you can do. If he was here, you’d give him the bag of coffee that still sat useless in your cupboard. But he’s not.

“Hi,” You say into the still air, because you still can’t bring yourself to say his name here. There’s a part of you that refuses to believe it’s him, even after all this time. You practically fall to the floor as you lower yourself, and huff at the inconvenience your old injury still caused you. “It’s been a while.”

And it’s true — it’s been long enough that Zahir, the man who took care of the graves on a more regular basis, had removed the flowers from the last visit. They must have died quickly, which you found to be quite ironic. Still, you hoped these ones lasted longer.

“Dina’s going to have her baby in a few weeks, we reckon. She said that if it’s a girl, she’ll name her Talia. But if it’s a boy…” You smile faintly, just imagining what Joel would look like if he was truly here. “She said JJ. Jesse-Joel. I hope it’s a boy, if I’m honest. I think he’d have Jesse’s smile.”

A breeze shifts the air around you, and you fidget with the tongue of your shoe for a moment.

“Her and Ellie are still living up at that farm, with a whole bunch of sheep. It’s not far, but I don’t see them too often. Ellie doesn’t really show her face around here, much. I think she avoids it because of Tommy, and Jesse’s parents. I don’t blame her.” You continue, breathing in the warm air and hoping it’ll soothe some of the pain in your chest. “Jesse’s parents have tried to visit me, a few times. You would think I’m so stupid for avoiding them like this, I just know it.”

You swallow roughly, trying to push down the lump in your throat. More than anything, you just wish that he could answer you, wish that he could confirm your suspicions on what he would think.

“It’s just… it’s been hard, here. Since we got back. Everything just feels so different.” You scoffed. “Probably because everything is different. You should see Mike and Astrid trying to lead the patrols. Without you and Jesse…” You shook your head, trailing off.

The breeze shook some leaves free from their branches, and sent them swirling down to the ground, where Zahir would sweep them away later. You liked the man. He had been kind and respectful every time you had seen him here, and you appreciated how much care he put into the upkeep of graves of people he hadn’t even known.

Sometimes when you were here, it felt like you were the only person in the world. As if when Joel died, everybody else died with him. And in some ways, you think that might be true. Jesse died right after him, and Tommy was almost right behind him. And Ellie… she lost a part of herself in that basement. After Seattle, you were surprised there was anything left of her.

It was why you always felt relieved when Zahir showed up. He allowed you to realise that there were still people around you, that not everybody was buried with Joel. Zahir reminded you that other people were grieving, too. It helped to know that you weren’t actually alone in this experience, even if it felt like it.

You wanted to tell him how much you missed the two of them, how your life felt incomplete without them in it. You wanted to let the words fall from your mouth, wanted to observe as the breeze caught them and swept them away to somewhere that Joel just might have heard them. But you already felt silly, doing this. Speaking to him, knowing that he couldn’t hear a word of it.

What else could you do, though? Where else were you meant to put all of these unrelenting thoughts? What else could you do with the grief that threatened to bury you right beside the people you missed most?

“So much has changed here. It doesn’t feel like home, the way it used to.” You admitted to the open air, trying not to let regret or embarrassment consume you. The breeze could be comforting, if you allowed it to be.

It’s been a long time since you’ve allowed yourself to be comforted. Maybe too long.

All you can think is haven’t you suffered enough? Do you have to continue the seemingly endless cycle of pain that you have been trapped in for years? Shouldn’t you, after everything, be allowed some comfort?

“If I’m honest, I don’t think it’ll ever feel like home again. Not really. I guess that’s why Ellie doesn’t really visit.” You said, listening to the rustle of leaves, watching the petals on the flowers you’d brought shift. You believe it, too. You believe that Ellie refuses to visit because Jackson has lost its spark. Its livelihood. That, and you’re pretty sure she can’t bring herself to visit Joel’s place, or Jesse’s.

You don’t blame her. It had been one of the hardest things you’d ever done, coming here after returning from Seattle. You felt like some sort of sorry animal, failing to come home with the prey it was supposed to. Despite your best efforts, your jaws remained empty of prey. Your hunt had failed, had turned sideways, had left you feeling more sorrow than before.

How could you come here knowing that Abby was still alive out there? Knowing that, while Joel had been rotting underground, she had a life.

It had taken you a long time to accept that fact. To let it go.

Ellie was still holding on.

You suppose that you have always been better at knowing what went through Joel’s head. At rationalising things. You knew that going after her was never what Joel would’ve wanted for the two of you. But Ellie had always struggled with seeing his point of view. With seeing anyone’s perspective but her own, really. She could never understand Abby, just like she had never understood Joel after what he did to the Fireflies.

Joel would want the two of you here, not on some cross country journey for revenge. And you understand why — because that trip had caused you even more loss. It hadn’t fixed a thing, and at the end of it all, Abby was still alive.

Going after her wasn’t worth Jesse’s life.

If you had known the cost of that journey before you had left Jackson in search of it, you don’t think you would’ve gone. Not if it meant losing him, too.

A glance across the cemetery had your eyes locking onto another familiar headstone. It was still hard for you to face that one, knowing that you were the direct cause of Jesse’s death. Would he had left the safety of Jackson, if you hadn’t joined Ellie on her quest for vengeance? Would Abby have felt the need to defend herself, the kid with her, if you and Ellie hadn’t been so intent on killing her?

One of the worst parts about his death is that you could understand. Had you, Ellie and Joel not killed many people, defending those you cared about? Hell, hadn’t you killed WLFs to protect Jesse? You’d caused people this loss, too. Perhaps his death was just karma, finally catching up to you. But to reduce Jesse to that felt… wrong. He was more than that. So much more.

He should’ve been here. At your side, grieving Joel right alongside you.

Had you chosen to just grieve, rather than avenge, you wouldn’t have to do it all alone. If you had remained in Jackson while Tommy, Ellie and Dina left, you could’ve asked Jesse to stay. You’re almost confident that he would have.

But then you would’ve lost the others, too.

Either way, Jackson would’ve lost its spark of life.

“I think that, maybe, you guys were my home. And that’s why it feels like this.” You look away from the stone with Jesse’s name carved upon it. Admitting it just makes it feel more real, and you know that you will never feel at home again. Not like you did with them.

Your eyes water before you can do anything about it, trailing saltwater down your cheek. It crawls across the scar underneath your eye, and you feel the phantom pain of Abby’s fists upon your face once more. Everything in you aches, particles of loss and decay floating through your veins until it feels like it’s all you are.

But it’s not.

There’s still life within you, waiting to be let out.

Joel and Jesse don’t have that luxury. Which is why you feel like you have to honour them, like you have to actually live, instead of sitting here, wallowing in the pain of it all.

“I miss you.”

The wind brushes against your hair, your face.

“I’ll come back soon,” You promise, resting your palms against the ground to help you stand without aggravating your injury. “Maybe next time I’ll bring your guitar, show you what I’ve learned since we lost you.”

There’s a lump in your throat, and you can’t seem to swallow it. Your goodbye can’t get past it, and you know it will only worsen if you go across to Jesse’s place. You turn, swearing that you will have something more hopeful to tell the open air next time you come.

[ellies-enrichment]

ND remake part 2 for ps5 and add cute outfits in the extras but let me make the trophies PLEASE

[webdollzz]

Luke: Don't get me wrong, I'm straight, but we've all thought about being in the arms of derek right?

Spencer: yes

Aaron: no

Spencer: noo

[beforeimdeceased]

SWEET TOOTH — toothache ❤️‍🩹

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° synopsis: a follow from a cute stranger on the internet upends your life in ways you never expected.

☾⋆｡ 𖦹 °✩ author’s note: oh wow this is getting quite juicy…have you guys seen control z? it’s a netflix original it’s like my favorite show of all time give it a looksie. i’m so excited i habe the rest of this smau planned out and maybe after i’ll give you an academic rival!abby drabble

⋆.ೃ࿔*: warnings: none for this chapter!

𓇼 taglist: infinite kisses to @castasplla @machetegirl109 @theganymedes @xnoviee @peejayurple

꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟmasterlist

[saintgoths]

ꜰᴀᴅᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ

JEALOUS!ELLIE X READER - FADE INTO YOU.

WORD COUNT - 2,195.

RATING - G+ [aside from subtle slut shaming, angst & arguing].

SUMMARY - fem!reader is an eye candy and ellie hates it.

[requests are open until i continue posting a song of thorns]. if you want to join a the last of us discord/joel miller discord here you go! 𓆩♡𓆪

if this reaches more than twenty-five notes maybe i'll post a part 2 :)

It had been at least a week subsequently after the eminent disaster of a break-up both you and Ellie had shared, everyone had remembered what they were doing when the argument had disrupted and people had believed that it would be impossible for the both of you to get back together, rude words were being exchanged, one side of the connection jealous and the other defensive.

It couldn’t be denied that both parties should’ve controlled their behaviour and responses, but Ellie had believed that she had been as patient as she could be when it came to you, she had desperately tried to be, but it was difficult when everyone swooned over you, when everyone radically wanted to get into your pants and what made it worse was that you didn’t necessarily play their game but you would giggle at every person who’d flirt with you.

Though as a week passed, you had made hints that you wanted to reconcile and conciliate with Ellie and she was up for it.

Today was your birthday, and you were throwing a gathering at your place, and much people would arrive, specifically people who shared the same age you, you had recently turned nineteen and next year you would have to turn twenty, it scared you shitless, but it made you feel better that you had loyal and honourable friends that would be by you every step.

It would be two hours before the party started but already there was much booze and weed scattered around the surroundings and you had loud music Maria would sure complain about the next day. You had been dressed in a tight attire, a garment that had flattered your physique and make-up that had exalted your features; plus, Dina and Jesse had arrived an hour before your party started to help you set up the rest of your decorations.

You had given them pre-drinks to set them in the mood which they had happily drank, Dina wasn’t one to drink all the time but since it was your birthday, she had given in. “You look sexy,” Dina forwardly complimented as she examined your outfit you had carefully picked out, you were one to have nice clothes by any means, you actually had much people ask to borrow your clothes from time to time.

“Thank you,” you attentively thanked with grace and beckoned your head towards Jesse as a sign of hello.

“Is Ellie coming over?” Jesse asked and you had thought that him hanging around with Dina had caused him to become too blunt compared to his usual self.

“Yeah, she’s coming,” you simply replied as you finished your task of decorating whilst Dina began her course.

You had figured they had wanted to speak about what had happened between you and Ellie, and you were too unbothered to stop them, so you had allowed Dina and Jesse to roll in their questions and comments. “People still speak about the argument you and Ellie had because of that guy.”

You had furrowed your eyebrows, you had moved on from the situation, but people in Jackson consistently loved to gossip. “I remember how angry Ellie was when you two were breaking up, it wasn’t a pretty sight,” Jesse joked as he slumped himself down on your sofa, you had rolled your eyes at him and towards Ellie’s precedent behaviour, she was one to get quickly riled up, sometimes you had felt like you were walking on egg-shells when you were with her.

“Well, Ellie needs to work on her jealousy, insecurities and anger,” you shrugged.

“Well, you need to stop purposely getting Ellie jealous then,” Dina commented, which you had thought was rich for her to say.

“All I do is be hot and she’s mad,” you joked, “plus, the guy wasn’t even my type.”

They had both laughed but you were being honest, the guy Ellie had gotten angry at you about was not so much as close to what you would want in a guy. You were just being friendly, perchance too friendly for Ellie’s liking but she had no reason to blow up like that in front of everyone, she had embarrassed you and made you look like something you were not, a cheat.

In spite of the trio laughing and bickering amongst each other, to a greater extent, people had started to arrive to your birthday party and every time someone had knocked on your front door you had wished it was your auburn-haired ex behind the door, but you had been quietly disappointed when you have been proved other-wise numerous of times.

As time passed on, you had accepted your defeat and wallowed within the conversations and danced, there had been moments you danced with Dina and comically pranced and played with Jesse and Dina while uncontrollably drinking booze you had been continuously offered.

You had then been alerted by someone who had heavily knocked on your front door, it was loud, but you couldn’t complain since the music you had blasted was louder, you had unsealed the door to be met with Ellie, she had appeared more cleaner than you had last seen her, and she had radiated the tough and fierce steaminess you had always been drawn to.

“Hey,” you choked out, surprised that Ellie had in point of fact arrived to your birthday gathering, she had hesitatingly brought you into an embrace, another operation you had been taken aback with.

“Hey,” Ellie kindly whispered, during the moment she had pulled away from you, she had briskly examined the outfit you had clothed yourself with, which had silently developed into a stance of desire, she was impressed by how you were always able to pull of whatever you wore.

“I didn’t think you would come,” you shyly spoke only to be responded with a shocked look composed on the freckled girl’s face.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Ellie curiously inquired as she stepped into your cabin and took off her jacket which had unveiled the outfit, she was clothed in.

You had closed the door, confused by Ellie’s aghast nature. “Um, one it’s because you turned up late so I didn’t think you would come, and two, because of what happened last week, you were really angry.”

“Well,” Ellie began as she rebounded to look at you, “I hope we can push it past us.”

You had gently slumped your shoulders, if you were being outright plain, you would have rather push it past the both of you and enjoy the celebration.

You had guided Ellie to the function where people were slow dancing and downing more beverage you had provided.

You had sat down beside Ellie after you had chaperoned cuisine and eatables for the guests who hurriedly took as much food they could. The fare had calmed down the company who joined both you and Ellie; they sat down and enjoyed the aura and efficiency of the party while the music that once played loudly was slowly dialled down to a state where it was comfortable for everyone.

Everyone had then been engaged in a conversation began by Dina whilst Ellie had comfortably immersed herself with pre-rolled weed you had perfectly handled. You had your arm linked with Ellie’s free arm yet engaged with other people’s questions and comments.

“Wait are you and Ellie back together?”

The simple and facile questioned had been bulky and laden enough for Ellie to feel a closed tightness in her chest, she awkwardly tightened the connection she had around your arm in anticipation and buoyancy you would answer with the reply she had wished for. You had stared at the guest who had urged to know about the bond between you and Ellie; and you had just awkwardly smiled. A breathy laugh emerged from your lips whilst you gracelessly shuffled on your seat.

“No.”

Furthermore, what had made it worse for Ellie was the look you had on your face, as if the guest’s question was bizarre. Speedily, Ellie had let go of your arm and had comforted herself as she rebounded on smoking the pre-rolled blunt. She had genuinely believed and adhered things were getting better between the both of you; she had gently clicked her tongue; how stupid and idiotic she had been. To think you would expeditiously fall back into her arms when she turned up to your party. How could she? With the way she had treated and spoken to you that night, of course you wouldn’t willingly come back to her.

Dina and Jesse had caught the unsatisfied look Ellie had all over her face and you hadn’t bothered to look at Ellie who had deeply pouted at your carefree behaviour. The couple had thought Ellie was on the verge of saying something, but she didn’t.

Time had passed and currently people had begun to leave, and you had dreaded the fact that you’ll wake up the next day with a hangover but having to do much cleaning. Dina and Jesse were one of the last ones to leave, the remaining guests being Ellie who comfortably but awkwardly still sat on the spot she had been for the past hours.

“Why are you still here?” You had questioned, sincerely suspicious to why Ellie had decided to remain in your cabin.

Ellie had sat up, her mind cloudy and convoluted to the previous events. “Well, I didn’t want to storm out and make a scene after you made it seem like that person was nuts for asking if we were back together.”

“That’s a surprise because you’re always one to make a scene,” you plainly joked ere you had given yourself the idea to begin to clean up some of the mess that was left by the previous company, back turned towards Ellie who had her mouth open, bothered by your casual and indifferent persona.

“You can be so oblivious, and you don’t realise your behaviour hurts people.”

Finally, you had turned around once again, face very expressive with an entertained and satiate mask. With a sagged bin bag in your hand, you had gently put down the canister bag and forwardly looked at your ex-partner. “You really thought things were going to get better that quick?” You thoroughly asked, face analytical and meddlesome enough to rub Ellie the wrong way. “The way you behaved last week hurt me, because it showed that you don’t trust me, like at all.”

“Then, I’m sorry,” Ellie roughly apologised, disappointed in all aspects that had brought them into this position. You, herself and the guy. “I was insecure, because you are someone who has everyone wrapped around your finger and you can easily move on to someone new if I do the slightest thing wrong.”

“But that has never happened though?” You complained, your shoulders had dropped, unhappy that the bond between you and Ellie would never function the same like old times. “You know if you actually want this relationship to work you have to work on your jealousy,” you muttered before you rebounded on picking on dirty items to put in the binbag, “amongst other things.”

Eventually, humoured, Ellie pushed out a breathy laugh, ashamed and penitent that she had even come to your birthday party. “Well, maybe I’ll start that after you stop flirting with everything that breathes in your direction.”

You had remained silent, calm and hushed to her curt words, withal, your quietness was enough to bear tension. “I’m sorry,” once more, Ellie briskly apologised as she set herself in her habit of playing with her fingers whenever she had felt apprehensive.

“Just get the fuck out Ellie,” you tiredly whispered, you had suddenly ached the warmth of your bed so you can sleep and forget about what had just happened, although, you had forgotten how stubborn Ellie could be.

“Wait---no, I’m sorry, it just came out---”

“That can’t be your excuse every time you say something mean. You always attempt to cover up your harsh ways as a moment of unhappiness when it’s just usually something you’ve always wanted to say.” Frustrated you had walked towards the unsealed front door of your cabin and briskly opened the exit which had loudly implied that you had wanted to her to go in an instant.

Unhappily, she had put her hand on her hips as she walked towards the door, however, before she attempted to leave, she turned to look at you, her face regretful and ashamed of her irrational behaviour. “[Y/N] …look, can we just talk about---”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you sternly cut off, your scrutiny avoidant of Ellie’s stare which was deeply fixed into your skin, her hazel-green eyes were always so steel-like that it unceasingly made you nervous. Nonetheless, Ellie had hoped that you would look at her one last time before she left, but as you have consistently done, you had ravaged her wish and left her hopeless. As her hands left her hips, she had dishonourably left your premises, sure that she would over anticipate about what she could’ve done or said that would’ve detoured the current circumstance.

songs that fit this song ⬎

⟶ mazzy star - fade into you. [evidently]

⟶ tame impala - let it happen.

⟶ billie eilish - when the party's over.

[requests are open until i continue posting a song of thorns]. if you want to join a the last of us discord/joel miller discord here you go! 𓆩♡𓆪

masterlist

♆

[nickeverdeen]

Can you write an imagine for jesse from the last of us pls?🙌🏻 So, I've been watching these videos of sexy guys on motorcycles like this one here https://www.instagram.com/reel/C53ki6gItdc/?igsh=em1hMzN6Z2ZyZ29u (shame on me, I know🤭) and I thought "an imagine about motorbiker!jesse AU???". So, fem!reader is a bit tipsy after saying goodbye to her friends on the local bar, and when she gets out of the there, she sees a stray cat walking onto the road just as a motorbike is about to pass at high speed, so she runs (practically jumps) in the road to get the cat, making jesse stop his motorcycle abruptly. At first, he's a bit angry someone did such a dumb move (he had a bad day, he's already stressed) but after taking his helmet off and taking a brief look at reader, he notices she's kind of disoriented/drunk-ish and that's why she didn't think twice before doing such a thing (as much as her intentions were good), so he softens a bit. He parks his motorbike and gets out of it to help reader to get out of the street (and from the few angry drivers in other cars complaining). I just think it would be so cute to see jesse being so nice with reader, talking to her (slowly falling in love too) and making each other laugh while he waits for her ride with her to make sure she doesn't do anything inconsequential again (even if she says she's fine). I like the concept of guy that looks like a badboy but is actually a chill dude.

Midnight rescue | Motorbiker!Jesse x fem!reader

Warning: Alcohol, near death experience, one cuss word

PS: I absolutely love this idea, thanks so much for requesting it.

———————————————————

The bar’s neon sign flickered against the darkness, casting a wavering glow over the dimly lit street. Inside, the remnants of laughter and conversations faded as the night wore on. You stumbled slightly as you exited, waving goodbye to your friends, your mind buzzing pleasantly from the drinks you’d had. It was a rare night out, and you were savoring the last moments of your tipsy haze.

As you stepped onto the sidewalk, you noticed a small movement near the curb. A stray cat, thin and scruffy, was cautiously making its way towards the road. Your heart melted at the sight, and without a second thought, you crouched down, calling softly to the feline.

“Hey there, little guy,” you cooed, extending a hand.

The cat hesitated for a moment before inching closer. Just as you were about to scoop it up, the roar of a motorcycle echoed down the street. Your head snapped up, eyes widening as you saw the bike speeding towards you two. Panic surged through your alcohol-clouded mind, and you acted on pure instinct.

You darted into the street, practically diving to snatch the cat out of harm’s way. The screech of tires was deafening, and the smell of burnt rubber filled the air. The motorcycle came to an abrupt halt mere inches from where you stood, cradling the frightened cat in your arms.

“What the hell?!” The rider’s voice was sharp, laced with irritation. He removed his helmet, revealing a head of dark, tousled hair and a pair of intense, dark eyes that seemed to bore into your soul.

For a moment, you were too stunned to respond, your heart pounding in your chest. The rider dismounted, his leather jacket creaking as he moved. He was tall, with a lean, muscular build that spoke of both strength and agility. Despite the initial anger in his voice, there was a hint of concern in his eyes as he approached you.

“Are you crazy? You could have gotten yourself killed!” he exclaimed, his tone softening slightly as he noticed the dazed look in your eyes.

You blinked, trying to process his words. “I… I’m sorry,” you stammered, still clutching the cat. “I didn’t mean to… I just didn’t want the cat to get hurt.”

Jesse sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had already been having a rough day, and this was the last thing he needed. But looking at the woman before him, clearly a bit tipsy and disoriented, he couldn’t bring himself to stay angry. Your good intentions, albeit reckless, were evident.

“Alright, alright. Come on, let’s get you out of the street,” he said gently, placing a hand on your arm to guide you back to the sidewalk.

As you both reached the safety of the curb, a couple of angry drivers honked their horns, yelling obscenities as they drove past. Jesse shot them a glare before turning his attention back to you.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, still holding the cat. “Yeah, I think so. Thank you for stopping. And sorry for… you know, almost getting run over.”

Jesse chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“Y/N” you replied, offering a small smile. “And you?”

“Jesse” he said, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Even under these… shitty circumstances.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Yeah, I guess it’s not every day you meet someone like this.”

Jesse glanced at the cat in your arms, which was now purring contentedly. “You got a ride home? Someone to come get you?”

You hesitated, your mind still a bit foggy. “Uh, I was just going to call a cab, but I think my phone died.”

Jesse raised an eyebrow. “Tell you what, why don’t I call you an uber and wait with you until you get a ride? Make sure you don’t try to save any more cats.”

You blushed embarrassed, nodding gratefully. “That would be… really nice. Thanks.”

You both moved to a nearby bench, Jesse parking his motorcycle nearby. As you sat down, the cat curled up in your lap, Jesse couldn’t help but notice how you seemed to radiate warmth and kindness, even in your slightly inebriated state. It was cute.

“So, what’s a girl like you doing out this late, rescuing stray cats?” he asked, genuinely curious.

You shrugged, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Just saying goodbye to some friends. It’s been a while since I went out. Needed a break, you know?”

Jesse nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes you just need to blow off some steam. Though I usually prefer doing that on my bike, not in bars.”

You looked at him, curiously. “You ride a lot?”

“Whenever I can,” he replied. “It’s a good way to clear my head. Feel the wind, the speed. It’s freeing.”

You sighed dreamily due to the alcohol in your system. “That sounds amazing. I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

Jesse’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Well, maybe someday you’ll get a chance, maybe I’ll let you be my backpack”

You continued to talk, your conversation flowing easily despite the unusual circumstances. Jesse found himself laughing more than he had in a long time, your stories and comments a welcome distraction from his stressful day. You, in turn, felt a surprising sense of comfort and safety in his presence.

As the minutes turned into an hour, Jesse’s initial frustration melted away completely. He couldn’t help but feel a growing admiration for you. You were brave, kind-hearted, and had a certain spark that drew him in.

“So, art college, huh?” Jesse asked, glancing at you.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’ve always loved drawing and painting. It’s my passion. I can’t wait to start.”

Jesse smiled, impressed. “That’s really cool. Takes a lot of guts to follow your passion like that.”

You blushed, looking down at the cat in your lap. “Thanks. It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.”

You fell into a comfortable silence, the city’s noises fading into the background. Jesse glanced at his watch, noting the time.

“Your ride should be here soon,” he said softly. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

You looked up at him, your eyes bright. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for staying with me, Jesse. You didn’t have to, but… I appreciate it.”

Jesse shrugged, a warm smile on his face. “It’s no big deal. Just glad I could help.”

As your ride finally pulled up, you stood up, gently placing the cat down. You turned to Jesse, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and reluctance to say goodbye.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” You said hopefully.

Jesse nodded, his smile widening. “Yeah, maybe you will.”

You gave him one last smile before getting into the car, the cat hopping in beside you. Jesse watched as you got drove away, a strange sense of contentment settling over him. He hadn’t expected his night to take such a turn, but he was glad it had.

As he mounted his motorcycle and put his helmet back on, Jesse couldn’t help but feel that this encounter was just the beginning of something new and exciting. And for the first time in a while, he felt a spark of hope and anticipation for what the future might hold. Maybe once he’ll see you and you’re not tipsy he’ll take you out for dinner

[mariatesstruther]

the last of us x hunger games au in which a young and rebellious ellie is chosen in place of katniss and mentored by joel, district 12’s one and only victor. he’s not at all interested in helping her, too busy being a dick, left cold jaded from his own daughter’s death in the games a few years prior

[softbeebee]

How would it be like dating Jesse (the last of us 2 / tlou2) (sfw) |

Jesse is a good boyfriend, always there for you and willing to sacrifice things if you need him.

He goes all out on date nights if he can, loves spoiling you however he can.

Whenever he goes out, patrolling brings back something for you, obviously after cleaning it up

He is very independent but loves when you cook or take care of him.

Jesse loves to cook. His mother, Robin, grew up teaching him some recipes and teaching him to cook. He cooks you meals more often than not.

He loves watching movies with you. He loves to hold you and snuggle close throughout. If it is a horror movie, that is a bonus.

The two of you might meet through a mutual friend or being paired on patrols. He is a pretty popular guy and is known about town as well as is trusted by most. If it is a modern-day setting, you might meet through the same way or maybe through work such as coworkers to one another.

He would make sure to spend time together and alone, understanding that the constant time together as a couple can be tiring.

However, Jesse can be clingy at times. Such as he prefers to sleep with your back against his body and cuddling into him.

He loves when you play and touch his hair, if you do that while laying down he might fall asleep.

More than likely, he will show you off at the dances and make sure everyone knows how lucky he is to be with you.

More than likely might adopt some animal babies such as a dogs or cats, even a mix of both.

He would go anywhere with you, even outside of Jackson. He is committed to the end of time, a polite yet humorous and trusted boyfriend overall.

Jesse is a big and little spoon, can swap between while snuggling/cuddling with you.

If it rains, he brings you out in the rain and will mess about it in it.

Jesse will cover you with kisses before he goes out onto patrol, he loves you dearly.

He will do self care days with you, learn how to make homemade masks, massage you, and more. Jesse is happy to do so.

If you get sick, stay with you despite the chance he might fall ill. He takes care of you, showers you with care and love, and then makes your favourite soup/meal.

[magentagalaxies]

the number of times i have cried over an old man in the past twenty four hours is not FAIR (/lighthearted but also this is definitely because i'm so stressed)

[softgrungeprophet]

the real reason au kaine wears a braid suited up...to keep his hair from fluffing up with static electricity

[raeniskaies]

you need to fix your attention span ♡

- it is rumoured that human beings have an attention span shorter than a gold fish' . can you believe that such intelligent , amazing creatures as us can't even concentrate for more than 7 seconds ?

000 , just a short notice

- i apologise for taking so long to post ! life has been so busy and im sorry I left you guys ! also ty for 200 + followers ! i love you guys !

001 , don't have multiple tabs open

- stop having multiple tabs open ! this can cause frequent distractions and decreases your attention span !

002 , minimize multitasking

- just as previously stated , multitasking can help you lose focus on what you're trying to focus on !

003 , create no phone zones

- you don't need to take your phone everywhere with you ( at home ) , create no phone zones to reduce screen time and additionally regain more of an attention span ! no phone zones can be in your washrooms , kitchens & gardens , in those places you can focus on more important things other than your phone!

004 , say I'll do it after [x]

- if you had planned on doing something , do it. just because Jess or Ella asked you to call + play dress to impress + watch tik toks with them , doesn't mean you abandon your work. tell them you'll do it after [x] ( your work ) and just watch your attention span increase !

005 , automate school hours on school

- this chapter is just about using school for work and not for your phone !

006 , be okay with boredom and be curious

- if you're on a road trip or if you're waiting at a doctor's appointment , remember that your phone isn't your last resort ! for entertainment , try and look outside , imagine who has visited the area hundreds of years ago and how much it had changed or if you see any people , imagine their story ! be curious & imaginative !

007  , consume longer content

- watch long form videos til the end ; don't watch it on x2 speed ; don't read comments as you watch it ; don't skip past it ; watch it to its proper ending ! once you get used to focusing on long form content , your attention span will improve !

008 , consume to absorb , not skim

- when watching long - form content , don't skim past important details , watch it to absorb its content + not to get an uninformative gist !

[pedrospatch]

safe and sound

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Your daughter has a nightmare—her daddy makes it all better.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. slight canon age deviations (Joel is 56, Ellie is 17) READER’S AGE IS NOT SPECIFIED. she’s a child bearing adult woman so do with that information what you will. established relationship, reader and Joel have a toddler (her age is not specified in fic but she’s 3 ish years old), reader has NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION and neither does their child except she has Joel’s eyes and his dark curls, no mentions of her skintone. Joel and Ellie are fine bc he deserves it, Joel’s an overprotective girl dad, reader is the chill parent. implications of a toddler being told about clickers, bad dreams, almost smut, Joel and reader get cockblocked, SOFT Joel who comforts his babygirl, mention of Sarah towards the end. very minimal editing.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: listen, i love me some daddy joel but tonight i needed a bit of actual daddy joel. this was whipped up last minute bc i haven’t had the best weekend and needed some comfort. also i didn’t have the mental capacity or energy to come up with a moodboard, so gif it is.

Joel looks down at the old, worn book in his hand.

Winnie the Pooh.

He never would have imagined it. This.

Reading a bedtime story to a toddler. His toddler.

He’s in his fifties—he shouldn’t have a toddler.

He shouldn’t have a teenager, either.

Yet, he has both.

The toddler has his blood, the teenager doesn’t.

But that doesn’t matter to him.

Joel still considers her to be his own kid.

Only, she’s not a kid anymore, not really.

She’s seventeen now. She doesn’t need him much anymore, not the way that his toddler needs him.

“Ellie’s not coming home tonight,” you’d said from where you stood at the stove, stirring in chunks of potato and chopped carrots into the pot of stew in front of you. “There’s a birthday party down at the bar. She’s going with Dina and Jesse.” You can feel the look of disapproval on his face and add, “I said she could go, Joel. She asked me permission.”

“She didn’t ask me,” he’d gruffed. He looked down at the little girl sitting in his lap, scribbling away on an old state map. He had given it to her along with the pack of crayons he’d found during patrol when his group stumbled across a schoolhouse. Though crumbling on the outside, the inside had remained untouched throughout the last two decades—little coats hanging over the back of little chairs, papers scattered all over little desks, little lunch boxes still stored in their cubbies at the back of the room. He instructed the group to search for anything useful, anything that Jackson’s teachers could use for the children in their classrooms. Joel knew that taking without trading was against the rules, but that did nothing to stop him from secretly slipping the box of crayons into his jacket pocket when no one had been looking.

His daughter’s squeals of delight when he’d gifted them to her had been well worth the theft.

“Because she knew you’d say no to her.”

“I would have. Kid’s got no business going to a bar at her age. She’s fuckin’ seventeen years ol—”

The little girl had gasped and stopped coloring.

“Daddy said a bad word.”

You’d turned around and glared at him. “He did.”

She looked up at him with her wide, brown eyes.

Those she’d gotten from him. His dark curls too.

Everything else?

Her smile, her nose, her softness?

That was all you.

“M’sorry, babygirl,” he apologized, sheepishly.

“S’okay, daddy.”

And back to coloring she went.

“Joel, let’s face it. Ellie’s growing up. She’s turning eighteen in a few months and truth is, she has one foot out the door.” Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the counter. “She was telling me how she wants to turn the garage into her own space.”

“There a reason she ain’t talkin’ to me ‘bout this?”

You’d smiled wistfully at him.

“Because she knows this is hard for you, Joel.”

It is hard. Because even though she isn’t his, she’s his and he’s afraid to lose her somehow.

Joel manages to snap himself out of his thoughts.

Rosemary’s now fast asleep, her well loved stuffed bunny rabbit wrapped in her arms. She’s a handful for him during bedtime—she has too much energy and most nights, you have to step in and help him. But tonight, after her bath, he had warmed a glass of milk for her to drink and it seemed to have done the trick because within minutes of him reading to her, her eyes fluttered closed.

Joel sets the book down and leans over to brush a kiss onto her cheek, quietly whispering goodnight. “Sweet dreams, babygirl.”

He switches off the lamp on the bedside table and steps out of his child’s bedroom, being careful not to wake her as he closes the door behind him.

“I still can’t believe she fell asleep within minutes,” you say, staring at him in utter disbelief. “How?”

“Gave her a glass of warm milk before I tucked her into bed,” Joel explains, tugging on a pair of faded black sweatpants. He peels off his shirt and tosses it onto the floor before climbing into bed. “Worked like a fuckin’ charm. She’s out like a damn light.”

You set your book down and raise an eyebrow.

“Joel, I brushed her teeth before her bath.”

“I brushed them again after she drank it, darlin’.”

He outstretches his arm, beckoning for you.

Grinning, you scoot closer to him, draping an arm over his bare chest. “It’s only nine,” you tell him. “I have no idea what we’re going to do with all of this free time we have. Rosemary’s asleep, Ellie’s gone for the night.” You slowly drag your hand down his chest and over his stomach, a finger skimming the waistband of his sweatpants. You hear the way his breath catches in his throat and tease, “I guess we can actually get some good sleep for once, huh?”

Groaning, Joel rolls over and pins you down to the bed as he positions himself on top of you, his eyes glazed over with lust. “We can sleep,” he murmurs as his mouth hovers over yours. He reaches for the buttons of his flannel you’re wearing and begins to single-handedly pop them open only to find you’re not wearing anything underneath. He groans once more. “Or I can make you feel good. S’your choice, baby.”

You gasp as he nips at your chin and starts trailing his lips lower, peppering kisses down the length of your body. Heat blossoms in your lower belly as he settles himself between your thighs. Hooking both arms around them, he nibbles at the soft spot that is right below your navel, the spot you hate, but he adores. Having a child had changed your body and while you two seldom had time to yourselves to do anything of this nature, when you did find time, he never failed to make you feel like you were still just as beautiful to him, if not a thousand times more.

“Fuck,” you whimper. “Please, Joel.”

“Please what, sweetheart? What do you want?”

His voice is low, husky.

Your hands reach down and tangle in his curls.

“Your mouth, Joel. Please. I need your—”

The sound of a teeny knock at the door makes you both freeze on the spot.

“You heard that, right?” you ask him breathlessly.

There’s a second teeny knock.

It’s then followed by an even teenier voice.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

“Fuck,” Joel hisses, scrambling off the bed. “What the hell is she doin’ out of bed?” Picking his t-shirt up from the floor, he quickly throws it on, ignoring that he’d put it on inside out. Watching you as you fumble to button his flannel, he calls, “Just give us one second babygirl, alright? We’ll be right there.”

“I’m decent,” you tell him, getting the last button.

Nodding, Joel opens the bedroom door. His knees protest when he squats down, lowering himself so that he can meet Rosemary’s tearful gaze.

“S’matter, Rosie Posie?” he asks her in a soft voice that he reserves for his girls. “What happened?”

She sniffles. “I—I had a bad dream, daddy.”

You sit on the side of bed and wait patiently.

Joel has it handled. He always has it handled.

He never stopped knowing how to be a father.

“You had a bad dream?” he repeats, frowning.

Rosemary nods, clutching her rabbit to her chest.

A single tear slips down the side of her little face.

Joel reaches out, gingerly wiping it with his finger.

“M’sorry it scared you, babygirl. Tell you what, just for tonight, how about you sleep with me and your mama in our bed? That sound good?” With a small labored grunt, he scoops her into his arms. She is getting heavier and you often tell him it’s not good for his back—he can’t care less. He’ll keep picking her up until the moment his little girl decides she’s a big girl and doesn’t want him to pick her up. Joel carries her over to the bed and sits her on your lap and reminds her, “But this is just for tonight, Rosie Posie. Tomorrow night you’re back in your own big girl bed, alright?”

“Okay,” she nods again and leans against you, tiny shoulders slumping.

“Rosie? What was your dream about?” you ask her gently, wrapping your arms around her. She hardly ever has nightmares—she’s too young to know the world outside the commune’s walls, smart but still too little to understand why she cannot go outside the gates. “What did you dream about, honey?”

She hesitates, then answers, “Monsters.”

“Monsters?” Perplexed, you glance at Joel.

He seems to be just as confused as you are.

“Who did you hear that word from, babygirl?”

“Robbie.”

Your neighbor’s unruly, troublemaker son.

Joel’s jaw clenches slightly. “Thought I told you he ain’t allowed to be around her. The kid is nine, ain’t got no business bein’ around Rosemary. Little brat ain’t nothin’ but a bad influence. He’s always up to no good.” He shakes his head at you. “Said I didn’t want that boy anywhere near our daughter.”

“The kids were out playing in the snow today,” you remember. “He must have been there too. It’s kind of hard to tell who is who when they’re all bundled up and flinging snowballs at each other, Joel.” You shoot him an apologetic look. “Rosie was having a blast playing with everybody—I’m sorry. I suppose I should’ve paid more attention to who was around her.”

He bites back a sigh. He knows it’s not your fault.

Rosie’s too good of a girl, too pure and innocent to know that not everybody is her friend.

“Rosie, what did Robbie say to you?”

Again, the child hesitates.

“He said—he said monsters live outside. They bite people and turn them into monsters too. He said it happened to his daddy.” Rosemary’s eyes flit from you to Joel. “He said it would happen to you, too.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “He said that to you?”

Hands curling into fists, Joel reminds himself now isn’t the time to let his anger take over. “S’not true at all, babygirl.” He reaches over and slides her out of your lap and onto his. Like you, he wants to lie—tell her those monsters she was told about are not real, that they don’t exist. But they do exist and as much as he wishes he could keep her from finding out about all that lies beyond Jackson’s walls, Joel knows that one day, she will. “Listen to me. M’real sorry to hear ‘bout Robbie’s daddy, baby. But I can promise you, that ain’t gonna happen to me.”

She points a chubby finger at you.

“What about mommy?”

“Ain’t gonna happen to her either.”

Rosemary drops her hand, fear clear in her tone as she asks the both of you, “What about me?”

“Of course not,” you say, smoothing back her dark curls. “You’re safe here, honey. As safe as can be.”

Joel nods. “Your mama’s right, darlin’. You’re safe,” he reassured her. “You’re safe and sound.”

“I am?”

He gives her body a warm, gentle squeeze. “Mhm. Always will be. Y’know how I know that, babygirl?”

“How?”

“‘Cause. As long as daddy’s around, he will always protect you,” he promises her. “He’ll never, ever let anythin’ bad happen to you, Rosie. I swear it.” Joel kisses the top of her head, his gaze meeting yours. He murmurs his oath quietly, “On my life.”

Flashing him a small, grateful smile, you reach out and touch his forearm and he places his hand over your own.

“And mommy too?” Rosemary questions him.

“And mommy too.”

“And Ellie?”

“And Ellie,” he nods, firmly. “M’always gonna keep my girls safe. S’long as I’m around, you’re all safe.”

Rosie tiredly snuggles into his chest, yawning.

“What about you, daddy?”

“Huh?”

You squeeze his arm. “Think she’s asking you who is supposed to keep you safe, Joel.”

The little girl nods sleepily. “Yeah. Who?”

“Well.” Joel’s throat bobs nervously. He knows the moment he says what he’s about to say, there’s no going back. Not that he never planned to tell Rosie about her sister, but he’d always imagined doing it when she was older and understood death. “I—uh, I have an angel in the clouds who looks out for me. She watches over me, keeps me safe and sound.”

Rosemary’s curiosity is all that is keeping her from completely passing out in his arms.

“Really? You have an angel?”

Your heart squeezes tightly in your chest. “Joel—”

He lightly shakes his head.

“S’fine sweetheart. I don’t mind tellin’ her.”

Rosie’s fighting to stay awake just a little longer.

“Daddy? What’s your angel’s name?”

Joel answers in the steadiest voice he can muster.

“Her name was—her name is Sarah.”

“Sarah,” she mumbles, her eyes closing. “S’pretty. Your angel has a really pretty name.”

“The prettiest name,” you agree, softly.

Rosie yawns again. “Daddy?”

“What is it, babygirl?”

“Will you tell me stories about Sarah? Please?”

Joel chuckles, rubbing her back. “I sure will. I have plenty of them to tell, Rosie Posie. But not tonight. I’ll save them for tomorrow ni—”

You cut him off. “Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s out cold.”

He glances down and sure enough, she’s asleep.

Moments later, the three of you are in bed. Rosie’s in the middle, curled up against Joel’s chest—your chest is pressed against her back but you’re being careful not to sandwich her in too tight in between your bodies.

In a beam of silvery moonlight shining through the bedroom window, you meet Joel’s gaze.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He chuckles. “For what? Doin’ my job and soothin’ our daughter after a bad dream?”

You smile at him.

“For being so good to her. To me and Ellie.” Lifting a hand, you reach over and cup the side of his face in your palm. “You’re so good to all three of us and I can’t even imagine what we’d do without you.”

Joel turns his face, brushing a kiss into your hand.

“I mean it,” he says, quietly. “S’long as I’m around, you girls will always be safe and sound.”

credit divider @saradika-graphics

[webdollzz]

💌 helloooo and congratulations on being close to 200 followers!!! I'm gonna format this in a way that is hopefully easier to understand:

Character: Abby Anderson

Preferred name: Doe

Topic: ugh, a girlie is feeling positively STARVED of affection...how do you feel about writing a letter of Abby and reader in a long-distance relationship about Abby longing to visit her lover? I'm a bit of a romantic and adore cute nicknames (and it just so happens that @kittyt-hexxed had/has a headcanon list for them on Abby 👀), so if you could sprinkle some of those in, I'd greatly appreciate.

Pronouns: she/her

Don't hesitate to dm me if you need any other details!

My love, Doe

I simply cannot wait to see you..to kiss you..to hold you. only a couple more weeks and we can be together, sweetheart.

I'm coming home soon, and I'll be all yours. I've only thought about you on this trip, your voice, laugh, every beautiful thing about you.

I miss you so much baby, I don't think I'll ever be able to go on another trip like this again without you.

When I get home, I'm gonna take you on so many dates, get you breakfast in bed, whatever my girl wants. to make up for not being there.

Manny said he's okay with me taking 3 weeks off the job to spend time with you, so that's a plus. I'm always thinking about you,

today I found the most beautiful flower, I actually don't know what it's called but they reminded me of your eyes. I can't wait to see those beautiful eyes again.

I hope to receive a letter from you soon, darling.

I love you so much, baby. I'll see you soon. I promise. I'm proud of you.

Love from, abby. ♡

thank you so much for your request. I hope I did it justice! if not, lmk! lots of love.

If you'd like a love letter from your favourite character, my 200 celebration post is still happening for another three days! :)

[nickeverdeen]

https://www.tumblr.com/nickeverdeen/759892946103468032/accident?source=share

It's okay I can do it lol I might not remember exactly what I said that day but probably it was something in these same waters:

A jesse imagine with a fem!autistic!reader, just the same context as the first hcs you posted for someone a while ago. So, jesse and reader know each other, but this is set before they start dating. They know each other, they have brief talks sometimes (around ellie because she's their common friend, or in the in the gatherings at the millers when everyone is invited for dinners, etc) and, you know, he has a crush on her. Would even be cool to have some details in the imagine like since when he started having feelings for her, what was his first impressions of her, how did he got to know she was autistic (did someone tell him or he noticed something by himself? Or it was just a common knowledge in jackson for everyone?). But because she's introspective with people she doesn't really have intimacy, he finds hard to approach her in a way of finding a connection to her, he doesn't know if he would scare her or make her feel uncomfortable if he was too bold. So he begins to notice (by watching her) that she likes to paint and draw sometimes (he's pretty sure he heard someone say that it was one of her hyperfocus), he sees that she sometimes paints ellie's tattoo with markers or makeup when they hang together on her place, and he's pretty sure he saw Joel sitting on tommy and maria's couch and letting reader draw on his hand with a pen in some of the gatherings, when they were both bored.

So he has an ideia. He goes through his stuff until he finds some sketches his 12 year old self did (In my headcanon, he thought about getting a tattoo when Cat came to town and he found out she did tattoos, but he eventually let that idea go). Well, now he has a pretty good reason to have a tattoo. if it doesn't work, at least it will be covered by his shoulder.

So... Yeah he shows to her by the end lol I won't give details on this one tho, I'm pretty sure her reaction or anything that would be written after this point you would plan better than me.

I love you so much, cariño, and I’m so sorry again that you had to rewrite it

————————————————

A Sketch of Connection | Jesse x autistic fem!reader

Summary: The thriving community is a refuge for survivors, where life is beginning to feel a little more normal for Jesse when he meets you.

———————————

Jesse stood just outside of the mess hall, leaning against the wooden post as he watched the world move around him. His gaze was focused on you, sitting a few yards away with Ellie, both of you engrossed in some quiet activity. He couldn’t help but smile, noting how your concentration on whatever you were doing seemed to block out the noise and chaos of the busy day around you.

He’d been trying to get closer to you for a while now, ever since Ellie introduced you both. She spoke of you often, mentioning your incredible talent for painting and how you seemed to find solace in your art in a way that few others did. Jesse had noticed it too, in the small things—how your hands would twitch and fidget when you were in a room full of people, how loud noises would make you flinch slightly, or how you would sometimes eat your food in a very particular order, as if certain textures didn’t sit well with you.

Ellie had mentioned once, offhandedly, that you were autistic, something Jesse hadn’t fully understood but had since looked into. He learned about stimming, about the sensitivity to certain stimuli, and how social interactions could sometimes be challenging. It made him more aware, more cautious in his approach. He didn’t want to scare you off or make you uncomfortable, but he was desperate to find a way to connect with you beyond the surface-level conversations they shared at Miller’s house during group dinners.

As he watched, he noticed how you seemed completely absorbed in drawing on Ellie’s forearm with a marker, probably adding some intricate design around her tattoo. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you do that. He’d even seen Joel let you doodle on his hand once, a rare occurrence considering how much Joel guarded his personal space. It was then that an idea started forming in Jesse’s mind—a way to get closer to you, to understand you better, and maybe, just maybe, open a door to something more.

Later that night, he rummaged through his old belongings, finding the sketchbook he’d kept as a kid. Flipping through the pages, he found what he was looking for—an old sketch he’d made when he was about twelve. It was of a wolf, fierce and wild, something he’d thought was cool back then. Jesse had briefly considered getting it tattooed when Cat had passed through Jackson, but the idea had faded away. Now, though, it seemed like the perfect excuse. If nothing else, it would be a conversation starter, a way to share something personal with you.

The next morning, Jesse found himself in front of Cat’s place, the small parlor she’d set up in her spare time, tattooing those who wanted to leave a permanent mark on their skin. He explained what he wanted, showing her the old sketch.

Jesse sat down in the worn, comfortable chair in Cat’s makeshift tattoo parlor, a small room she had converted into her own little artistic haven. The walls were lined with sketches and ink samples, a testament to her skill. He handed her the sketch of the wolf he’d drawn years ago, watching as she studied it with a critical eye.

“This is good,” she said, nodding in approval. “Didn’t know you were an artist, Jesse.”

“Not really,” he replied with a shrug. “Just doodles from when I was a kid.”

Cat raised an eyebrow, still examining the lines of the drawing. “Well, it’s better than half the stuff people bring me. Where do you want it?”

Jesse hesitated, then lifted the edge of his shirt to expose his shoulder. “Here, I think. It’s kinda personal, so I’d like to keep it hidden most of the time.”

“Personal, huh?” Cat murmured, setting up her equipment. She nodded towards the chair, and Jesse shifted to give her better access to his shoulder. As she prepped the area, she kept glancing at him, clearly sensing there was more to the story. “So, what made you finally decide to get it done? This sketch’s been in your drawer for years.”

Jesse bit his lip, debating how much to share. Cat had a way of getting people to open up, even when they weren’t sure they wanted to. “There’s this girl,” he finally admitted, the words coming out quieter than he intended. “Y/N.”

Cat’s hands paused for a moment, and she shot him a knowing look. “Ah, so this is about that pretty girl Ellie’s been talking about.”

Jesse felt his face heat up, but he chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it is. I wanted a reason to talk to her more, something to connect us. She’s… she’s really into art, and I thought maybe if I got this, we could… I don’t know, bond over it?”

Cat smirked, clearly amused. “That’s sweet, Jesse. I didn’t peg you for the romantic type.”

He laughed, a little embarrassed. “Well, I’m not usually, but she’s different, you know? I just want to get to know her better, without scaring her off.”

“You’re doing something right,” Cat said, her voice softer now as she began to work on his tattoo. “From what I hear, Y/N’s not the easiest person to get close to. But you’re willing to take it slow, let her come to you. That’s good. Shows you care.”

Jesse smiled, relaxing into the chair as the familiar buzz of the tattoo machine filled the room. “Yeah, I do. I just hope she sees that.”

Cat worked in silence for a while, focused on her art. When she finished, she wiped down the tattoo and admired her work, giving Jesse a satisfied nod. “Looks good. You’re gonna knock her socks off with this.”

Jesse glanced in the mirror she held up, taking in the new addition to his shoulder. The wolf looked fierce, just like he’d imagined it would all those years ago. But now, it carried a new meaning, one tied to the hope of getting closer to you.

Cat cleaned up her tools, then glanced at Jesse with a teasing grin. “Don’t worry, Jesse. Your pretty girl’s gonna love it. And if she’s smart, she’ll see you for the good guy you are.”

Jesse’s heart skipped a beat at her words, and he couldn’t help but grin back. “Thanks, Cat. I really hope so.”

As he left the parlor, the new tattoo burning slightly under his shirt, Jesse felt more determined than ever to show you just how much you meant to him. And with Cat’s words echoing in his mind, he couldn’t wait to see where this new connection might lead.

He waited a few days before approaching you, nervous about how you might react. One evening, when the sun was beginning to dip behind the mountains, casting a golden glow over Jackson, he spotted you sitting on a bench outside, your sketchbook in your lap. Jesse took a deep breath and walked over, trying to keep his usual easygoing demeanor despite the knot of nerves in his stomach.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, taking a seat next to you. You glanced up, a small smile tugging at your lips, which gave him the courage to continue. “Got a minute?”

“Sure,” you replied softly, closing your sketchbook but keeping your hands fidgeting with the edge of the cover.

He hesitated for a moment, then pulled at the collar of his shirt to reveal his shoulder. “I, uh, got a tattoo the other day. Wanted to show you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, curiosity piqued as you leaned in closer to get a better look. Jesse noticed how your fingers stilled for a moment before you reached out, hesitating just before touching his skin. He nodded, giving you permission, and you gently traced the lines of the tattoo with a featherlight touch.

“It’s… really good,” you murmured, your voice carrying a hint of awe. “The wolf, it looks strong.”

Jesse smiled, relieved by your reaction. “Yeah, it’s something I drew when I was a kid. Thought it would be cool to finally get it inked.”

You nodded, your focus still on the tattoo. “It’s a good design… you used to draw?”

“A little,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “Not as good as you, though. I’ve seen your work—Ellie brags about it all the time.”

A small blush crept up your cheeks, and you looked down, clearly pleased but unsure how to respond. Jesse decided to take the plunge, hoping this would bring you closer.

“I was thinking,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “maybe… you could design my next tattoo? I mean, if you’re up for it. I’d love to have something of yours.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise. “You… you want me to design something for you?”

“Yeah,” Jesse said, his tone earnest. “Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course. I just thought it could be something we do together.”

You took a moment to process his request, your fingers idly tracing the pattern of the tattoo again as you considered it. Finally, you nodded, a small but genuine smile on your lips. “I’d like that, Jesse. I’d really like that.”

Relief and excitement washed over him. “Great! We can start whenever you’re ready. No rush.”

You nodded again, a bit more confident now. “Maybe… tomorrow? We can meet here, and I can show you some ideas.”

“Sounds perfect,” Jesse replied, his heart swelling with affection. He’d taken a step closer to you, not just by asking for your artistic help, but by showing you that he valued you—your creativity, your thoughts, and your presence in his life.

As the two of you sat there, chatting softly about possible designs, Jesse couldn’t help but feel that this was the beginning of something special. And as you began to open up, sharing more about your art and your ideas, he knew that whatever this was, it was worth every moment of patience and understanding.

[xervn]

like a french girl 🎨

part 1 - paint me | part 2 | art major ellie x dance major reader | ellie photo

ao3 link

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 2.2k words | tags; college au, pining, only a little explicit, no use of y/n, not proofread

disclaimer: not an art or dance major, don't shoot!

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Scribble, scratch, throw. This has been Ellie’s routine since she moved onto campus.

Why? Her professor told her that she draws the human body like it’s lifeless. Ranting about how they’re too one-dimensional and have no depth, her lines are too sharp or not sharp enough; flat and boring in looks and in feeling. 

Now listen, Ellie has nothing against criticism. She respects her professor and she’s aware that her drawings lack “vitality”. It’s been something she’s struggled with for a while now, an effect of some recent events and overall adjusting to college life. 

Ellie isn’t unable to grasp the anatomy of the body, in fact it’s the opposite. She knows the human body is complex and needs thorough observation. The way the sun hits the skin, the hairs on a knuckle, the creases of a smile. Wide, small, big, tall; no two bodies are exactly the same. 

Really, the imagery is so clear to her, but she finds it impossible to transfer the life and motion of the body onto a piece of paper without truly understanding the person. The way she sees it, every body has a story, and in order to make a good piece she needs to know that story.

Since art school is filled to the brim with inspiring, exciting, and vibrant people, she has, of course, tried to talk with them. She attempted to get to know the models, ask them general questions and hope something clicks. Unfortunately, that has yet to happen. She can’t really ask her friends either without it getting awkward. Imagine, “ Oh, hey guys! Can you guys get naked and pose in one spot for my homework?”   Hear how weird that sounds? Even though she’s sure Jesse would definitely be down, she values her eyes.

 Any “muse” she could possibly ever want was right in front of her, so why was it really impossible for her to find one?

 Well, because Ellie didn’t find anyone interesting enough. She’s not shallow or anything, it has nothing to do with how the model looked, Ellie has had several good-looking models. It was more about how she perceived them. It’s just that she hasn’t seen a model that made her ask questions like: “ How’d they get that scar?”  “ What does that tattoo mean?” Stuff like that.

The last interesting model she had was probably a fucking homeless guy she shared a blunt with outside a gas station many moons ago. Till this day, he might be one of her best pieces. There’s not a lot of moments like that here.

Nonetheless, Ellie saw this developing– extremely lame— personal requirement of hers annoying as shit. It’s holding her back big time, but she couldn’t help it even if she really wanted to.

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It’s practically useless to keep trying. The tiny voice in Ellie's head presses her to keep going, keep failing, but enough is enough. She is seriously burnt out and any more of this might kill her. The only thing that could help right now is a meaty slice of pizza and a blunt as soon as she thought of it.

Ellie clears out her desk, knocking the stack of crumpled paper into a conveniently placed trash can; a placement made from her constant trials and errors. She pushes up, and stretches widely, obnoxiously groaning like an old man by the end of it. She quickly tidied herself up, tying up half of her hair into a ponytail and throwing on a dark-green flannel shirt she had to sniff before wearing over her plain white tee. She takes a quick look into her floor-length mirror, making sure she looks presentable before grabbing what she needs to head out.

Just as her hand reached for the silver knob, Ellie felt this overwhelming urge to look back. God, she knows what she is going to look back at, but she really hopes she doesn’t. Unfortunately, her eyes land on her sketchbook, laid flat on the desk underneath a lamp’s warm light. She shouldn’t.

She needs a break. She knows she needs a break, but there is a twinge of hope, faith, lodged somewhere inside her. The same faith that’s kept her from dropping out every day for the past four months. Ellie groans as she drags her feet to her desk where she whisks up the brown book and shoves it in her tote bag with an accompanying pencil. She swivels back to the door and strolls out, silently praying her mood improves in the next hour.

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The cafeteria was surprisingly crowded, but Ellie managed to get her pizza without saying ‘fuck it’ to the line. Still, the thought of eating between this buzzing mess when she was in such a shitty mood turned her off. Thankfully, she knew that everyone would be everywhere but the upstairs balcony, especially during this chilly time of year. No sane person would eat out there, and she’s not particularly sane. Ellie saunters off to the balcony and sits herself at a small table facing the view.

It only took a glance around before she came to the realization that the view is not really a view. There’s only a dorm a few feet away, directly across. It’s a large brick-laid, generic building with wide windows. If it weren’t for the blinds, the view into a room would probably be good enough to read a label on something. Ellie’s freckled face grimaces at the thought, imagining what it’d be like if someone watched her rage as she messed up her homework over and over from this distance. Despite that, she thought it’d probably be a pretty good spot to live in. It’s close to the cafeteria and probably a lot bigger than her 1x1 dorm.

With a twinge of curiosity piquing her mind, Ellie glimpses over the windows, and for the most part, they are all closed.

All closed, but yours.

Yours doesn’t even have blinds. You’re on the 3rd floor and almost completely unobscured in a black camisole, sitting on your questionably roomy windowsill with a leg perched up. Ellie can see the fairy lights strung up in your bedroom, and a line of succulents closer to the window; ordered by size, which she briefly thought was cute. 

You aren’t facing the window, so she can only see your back. What she could see, though, is you doing your hair, occasionally swaying to what she can only imagine is music. Your room is high, but low enough for her to identify you if she had the pleasure of knowing you. Knowing you, reverberates in her head. Does she know you? Has she met you before? Amongst that babble, there is one more question she is slowly trying to gather an answer to. 

Time passes, most definitely shorter than Ellie would have thought passed. Her eyes have been glued on you the whole time, she even forgot about her, now freezing cold, pizza just so she could gawk at you. She still hasn’t seen your face yet, barely even a glimpse, but she already thinks you are stupidly beautiful just by the way you move.

From the graciousness of your movements alone, she thought there was no way in hell you didn’t know she was watching. At some point, your arms got tired, so you smoothly rolled your aching shoulders back; stretching into an arched, effortlessly perfect posture. Ellie’s eyes traced that slight curve of your back as if you’d disappear if she broke off from you.

There is no way it gets better from that, is what she thinks to herself, only to be shut up immediately after when she sees that perfectness of your back stay as you bend over and shift onto both knees to grab something far away, bringing your shorts in view. So short— so tight , they could easily be mistaken for panties. 

It was unexpected to say the least, Ellie could feel her face heating up and had to look around her to see if anyone else could see what she was seeing right now. Ellie wondered about the practicality of those shorts, wondered what exactly they were supposed to cover, leering at the plush of your ass peeking out. She thoughtlessly lets her jaw drop before muttering out a low, impressed, and barely over a whisper, “Well, fuck.”

You must’ve noticed your shorts riding up, since you quickly pulled them down after you grabbed what you wanted. Ellie clears her throat, internally scolding herself for being so gross— so perverted. Her brows furrow in embarrassment from all the dirty thoughts she brewed up in that moment. But for some reason, she still doesn’t look away. Well, there’s a list of reasons for her to look away, but she feels like ignoring it. 

Then a cold gust of wind bites past her face, clearly a sign from the universe that she should snap out of it, and snap out of it she does. 

What the hell happened to her? What is it about you that she keeps leaning into? Suddenly something clicks in her brain. After months of creative agony, something finally clicked. She has sat here completely fascinated by you and she couldn’t tell sooner?

In all honesty, to say she is just “interested” in you would be an understatement. Yeah, now she thinks you’re the perfect model for her final, but she wants to know you beyond just the drawing. A plus is that you just happened to be hot, and Ellie has never been attracted to a subject before, so the whole thing was new and exciting to her. Just the thought of drawing you made her remember why she loved art so much.  Ellie reaches for her tote bag sitting in an empty seat beside her, pulling out her sketchbook with more enthusiasm than she probably ever has. She sets the book down, opening up a blank page with one hand and tightening her grip on her pencil in the other.

She looks back up at your window, ready to sketch your life onto paper and..  Shit. You’re looking back.

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Today has been a good day for you, your teacher chose  you to teach the choreo you’ve been working on for weeks to your classmates. It was an obvious ego booster for you. You felt good and you wanted to look good too, even if you weren’t going out anywhere. It was just one of those nights. You wanted to experiment with your hair, thinking maybe you’ll do something new before your next practice. Dye it, cut it.. something.

It’s been a while since you started, and after several wrist and shoulder cramps, you were finally finished. You take a look into your hand mirror, peering at your reflection. You’re satisfied now, looking exactly how you’re feeling if you minus the dingy sleep clothes you’re in. 

♫ My heart, I never be, I never see, I never know. ♫

Grimes? Really? You pout, upset that your playlist didn’t magically read your mood. What you need is real 2000’s hot girl music. Britney Spears, Nelly Furtado, or Beyoncé for crying out loud.

“Alexa, skip!” You shout across the room, just loud enough for the device to hear. 

The stupid thing doesn’t even light up, so you call out a few more times but to no avail. Isn’t the whole point of that thing to be voice automated? You sigh and look around for your phone, and seeing it’s nowhere in front of you, you figure it’s behind. You twist your torso to find your phone behind you and luckily you do. As you pick it up, you casually glance out the window without any expectations. 

Did you see a figure in the blur as you looked away? You question your eyes, but you decide to take another look and just find out for yourself.

You peer back down and your eyes meet with someone else’s. The sudden eye contact between you and this woman instantly mortified you. Your heart sunk, and all you could do was raise your brows stupidly. She was surprised too, even in the dim light you could see her shocked expression boring back at you. Not only that, it went on for way longer than it should have. Any normal person would’ve looked away, but her eyes lingered on you before she hastily turned away. 

You’ve been sitting here, dressing up your hair, listening to your music without a care in the world. Far too absorbed in yourself to realize there’s someone outside your window. You slide off your windowsill and out of sight. Just as your bottom finally hits the wood floor, you feel the coldness of it against your skin and you’re immediately conscious of the fact that your ass was literally out at some point. 

The poor girl was trying to eat her food and you were bending over in front of your window like a harlot. It certainly didn’t help that she looked kinda hot. Did she? You peeked over your windowsill, hoping to get another look to really assess her hotness, but she was already gone. Whatever, maybe she didn’t see? But she looked embarrassed… embarrassed for you probably!

You hide your face in your hands and topple to the side, letting out a fake sob. Oh, god. You can already imagine Dina’s face when you tell her. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that thought. That was humiliating as shit, but it’s whatever. It’s not like you’ll see her again. 

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side note: if you have any tropes you'd like to see w/ this universe pls do drop an ask 🤭

click 4 more!

[subformuscularalpha]

I was studying in my room when the door opened and Mike, my neighbour walked inside.

"Hey, didn't you forget to knock?" I turned my head to him.

He was wearing just a shirt and a pair of trunks. Without saying anything he walked to the window right next to my table and leant on it.

"You alright?" I asked.

"I am... but you know, Jess has been away for so long..."

I looked at him with concern, unsure what he wanted to say with that. Jessica, Mike's girlfriend had been doing her exchange semester in Spain for the last four month and he definitely missed her. Mike had been loyal to her all the time but he must've got some concerns over the time, after all long range relationships are never easy.

"You want to talk about that?"

"Not really", he stepped closer to me and put his big hand on my shoulder, "You know, I love her. But I also can't do anything with my... needs"

"Do you want to fuck another girl?" we had always been quite direct with each other, so I didn't want to beat around the bush with that.

"Kinda..." he squeezed my shoulder, "I wouldn't fuck around with a girl, cause I love Jess. But I thought about using your ass"

"What?!" I pushed my chair back and jumped to my feet.

"Stop it. Don't pretend like you're not into guys. It was quite obvious: you're always... staring at me", he emphasized the word 'staring', "Especially whenever I walk around the room shirtless. And I saw your laptop once... You should better lock it whenever you leave it in the living room"

I hesitated for a moment trying to think about an excuse but nothing came to my mind.

"Listen, it's ok. I'm not mad or something like that" he stepped closer to me and grabbed my shoulders.

"You don't understand... I'm..." my heart was beating faster and it was difficult to talk.

"Max", his voice sounded gentle but confident. He put his finger under my chin and raised it up until our eyes met, "I won't tell anybody about that"

I looked into his eyes, "But I don't have any experience. I'm not sure, if... if I even can do that", my voice was trembling.

Mike smiled, "Don't worry. I'l guide you". In a swift movement he removed his t-shirt and looked at me, "Undress. I wanna see you naked"

I quickly took of my t-shirt and pulled my shorts down. Then I hesitated for a moment.

"Completely" Mike added with an assertive tone.

I touched the band of my briefs and slowly pulled them down. For the first time in my life I was standing naked in front of another man, completely exposed to him.

"That's better", Mike smirked. He looked me up and down and then his gaze stopped at my hard dicklet. It was at its full mast but even then it was barely over five inches long.

Mike then took my hands and placed them on his massive hairy pecs. They were warm and rock hard. I started massaging them. I had often imagined myself in this situation but I had never had an opportunity to do that in the real life. I stepped closer and moved my hand up to his bulging biceps that he flexed for me.

Then Mike pulled me into his hug and started exploring my body with his strong caloused hands. He slowly slid down my back and softly grabbed my ass, as my face was pressed into his chest. I moaned quietly from satisfaction.

"How does it feel?" Mike asked.

"It's so strange but in a good way" I answered, looking up into his eyes.

Then in a swift movement he grabbed my hips and easily picked me up like I weighted nothing. And at that moment our lips touched. He started dominating my mouth with his tongue. His moustache and stubble roughly rubbed against my soft face, while my hands were caressing his strong arms and shoulder.

Mike carried me to the bed and threw me on the mattress. He quickly removed his trunks, revealing a massive shaft and two big balls hanging between his legs. He wasn't even fully hard yet but his cock seemed to be around six inches and thick as fuck.

I stood on my knees on the bed and crawled to the edge. Mike grabbed my head from behind and pushed my face into his deep hairy armpit. The strong aroma of sweat and his manly odor filled my nostrils, making me even hornier. I kissed and licked that armpit like a little slut. Then I moved to his massive pecs. His hair was scratching my face but I didn't care. I concentrated on the big red nipples. After I finished kissing and sucking on them, Mike pushed my head down.

Moving through the ridges of his chiselled six-pack I licked his salty sweat with all the way down to the thick bush. Without waiting for a command I took hold of Mike's massive shaft. Barelly able to encircle my hands around its girth I started jerking it.

"Kiss it!" Mike ordered.

Without hesitation I moved my lips to the big head of his dick and gave it a kiss. Mike's hand landed on the back of my head and he forced me to take it into my mouth.

At that time his cock grew to its full mast and must've been around 9 inches long. I started sucking and Mike slowly pushed me down on it. After taking half of it I started chocking. I patted Mike to give him signal to stop and listened to me.

"I... don't know... if I can take it all" I was breathing heavily.

"If you can't it's ok" he patted me at the cheek, "It's you first time"

"I'll try again but please don't push me, ok?"

Mike nodded and I took his cock back into my mouth. This time I was able to come to around the same point but I could hold it. I started to slowly move my head up and down over it, trying to sattissfy my man, while his hands were squeezing my butt. Then suddenly I felt his thick finger rubbing against my asshole. I wanted to say something but Mike put his hand back on my head. His finger slowly found the way inside of me. He was slowly moving deeper inside of me. He then pulled his finger out and then directly pushed it back inside. It was a crazy filling of being double fucked by Mike.

After a few jerks I felt another finger entering me and stretching my ass hole. I couldn't but to make a moan, or at least something similar to moan, considering that my mouth was busy with Mike's member.

I wasn't even close to taking his hole shaft into my mouth but I tried to go my best with what I could offer. And it seemed to work. His cock pulsating more and more, and after another jerk it erupted, filling my mouth with his cum.