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jomiddlemarch · 4 days

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until men fell at their women's feet and asked for forgiveness

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you already had a headache from the changing barometric pressure when the phone rang-- you almost didn't pick it up.

warnings: heavy petting, references to child abandonment, adults drinking alcohol, casual use of obscenities, Joel is the epitome of single DILF, TLOU AU where cordyceps never happens but Joel is still Joel

wc: 1.7k

an: this is my submission to summer lovin', brought to you by @pedgito, @chaotic-mystery and @amanitacowboy. The title is borrowed from Jack Kerouac's On The Road as it seemed roadtrip appropriate.

“Get in,” you said.

The sky was a leaden grey, the clouds wadded up as if they’d stanch a wound, but there was a sickly green tinge that you recognized. Joel ought to as well, unless he’d forgotten, like he’d evidently forgotten so much else.

You hadn’t forgotten anything. Not the way he shrugged, the way a tee-shirt clung to his broad shoulders, the way his hair curled when it was wet with rain or sweat. How he’d sounded, crooning a song to his guitar, humming under his breath when he scrambled eggs in the morning, a dishtowel slung over his shoulder, the roughly choked off moan when you took him in your mouth. How he’d tasted, how he felt, his hands on your hips, his lips on your forehead, the base of your throat. How he’d said he’d call, how he’d let the machine take your message, your messages plural, and his brother Tommy, who’d sounded embarrassed and annoyed, who hadn’t known your name though you’d known his.

“Didn’t mean to make you—” he began.

“Get the fuck in, Joel, and then we’ll talk. There’s a tornado watch. I didn’t buy a house with a cellar to get killed chatting on the shoulder of I-80,” you said sharply, your knuckles turning white where you grasped the steering wheel for dear life. Something dear, because otherwise, it meant you were imagining squeezing the life out of him and you were too tired and too old to buy that love and hate being two sides of the same coin bullshit.

It was probably the tornado that got him into your truck, though something in his dark eyes said maybe it had been your tone. Maybe that he remembered, though you’d used it rarely enough with him. A couple of times and then that third message on his machine, that you’d ended slamming the phone down, hoping he’d wince.

He sat quietly next to you, having thrown a beat-up canvas duffle in the back of the cab. He didn’t say anything about calling for a tow or asking if you knew the nearest mechanic. He just sat there, staring out the window, which was maybe a better choice than staring at you as you drove home, your foot heavy on the gas pedal, trying to beat the storm. Anyway, you thought he was staring out the window, his face obscured by his baseball cap and you weren’t about to go all Miss Priss and ask him to take it off inside, as if inside the truck’s cab was a place that deserved some sort of civilized etiquette.

He followed you into the house wordlessly, stood just inside the doorway while you turned on the radio to check on the storm’s progress and the likelihood that you’d both survive the night. The watch had been downgraded, so you went to the fridge and grabbed two bottles of beer and gestured for Joel to sit down at the kitchen table before you plunked one down in front of him.

“Church-key’s in the drawer next—” you said, breaking off as he fished the bottle opener out and used it to flick off his bottle’s cap before offering it to you.

“I know,” he said. He waited for you to open yours before he lifted his towards his lips.

“Sláinte,” you said, taking a long swallow. It was cold, there hadn’t been a power outage while you were on the road, so there was that. You had a pound of ground chuck in the fridge for a meatloaf or burgers, you hadn’t decided, and now it looked like you wouldn’t poison yourself when you did. You still sort of wanted to poison Joel, but not with E. coli.

He watched you and you looked right back at him, like it was a dare or a staring contest. Something you could win.

He drank, letting his eyes drift closed for a moment, then set the bottle down and took off the baseball cap. His hair was greyer, curling around his ears. He was overdue for a haircut, ought to look like a slob but instead he looked like every dream you’d had of him over the past three years, dreams that you woke from trembling, slick, fumbling around for the vibrator in your bedside table drawer to finish off and have a chance of getting back to sleep.

“Road trip hasn’t exactly gone how I’d hoped,” he said.

“Yeah, unexpected stay with the ex I ghosted wouldn’t be on my goddamn mood-board either,” you said.

He chuckled, a low, dirty sound, that reminded you of too much.

“You haven’t changed,” he said and the smile he gave you was appreciative and not polite.

“How would you know?” you snapped.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. I don’t,” he said. He fiddled with the bottle’s label, peeling away with the condensation. Fidgeting, a rarity for him. “I don’t want you to think I was happy about how it went down.”

“You mean the ghosting me part? Or me blowing up your machine or cursing you out to your brother?”

“I was an asshole, yeah. Everything you did I had comin’ and more,” he said. “There’s context, if you want it. Or I can shut the fuck up and drink my beer and try to keep out of the way until morning and then get out of your hair.”

“There’s context?” you repeated, the disbelief in your voice almost rude. “Context?”

“Yeah. Don’t sound much like you wanna hear it though,” he said, taking another swallow of the beer. You wanted to smack him and sit on his lap, to scream you were over him and murmur how much you’d missed him, how bad it had hurt when you thought you’d never see him again. How bad it hurt when you saw him leaning against his broken-down truck in the rain.

“Joel, why’d you even call me?”

“Yours was the only number I could remember,” he said.

“Oh,” you said, pretending to yourself oh was a word, an appropriate, cogent, thoughtful response and not just the shape of your mouth around breath, half-sigh, half-sob.

“You could’ve hung up on me,” he said.

“That supposed to make me feel better?” You felt dizzy, still trying to make sense of what it meant, that he’d memorized your number, that it was the only number he could remember. You felt like you’d stumble if you stood up and you’d barely had any beer, there wouldn’t be any plausible deniability.

“It’s me sayin’ you’re treatin’ me better than I deserve. Like you always did. It’s me sayin’ I’m sorry, but doing a fucking piss-poor job of it,” he said.

“What’s the context?” you asked abruptly.

“I got a call. My kid’s mom left. Took off, didn’t leave a note, nothing,” he said.

“I thought your daughter’s mom was dead,” you said, not trying to soften it with some bullshit like passed on. If he was going to lie to you, you weren’t going to let him get away with it.

“My other kid. Turns out I had another one. One-night stand, condom broke, she never told me but she put my name down on the birth certificate. I had to fly out to Virginia to get her before they put her up for adoption or into juvie. She was raising hell at the foster home they put her in,” Joel said.

“You took her in?”

“I brought her home. She’s my kid. She’s mine, no one else’s,” he said. “I didn’t have a hell of a lot of bandwidth for anything other than dealin’ with her and Sarah, gettin’ them both settled. Honeymoon lasted all of a weekend but they’re good now. Good enough, anyway. They gang up on me, which is what sisters are supposed to do, if brothers are anything to go by.”

“Where are they now? You left them both with your brother?”

“Hell no,” Joel laughed. “I just dropped them off at Girl Scout camp for three weeks. Sarah’s Auntie Michelle fixed it up for them. I was driving around for a while before heading back to get them. Cheaper than flyin’ home and back and Tommy’s got all the subs lined up for the next couple of projects.”

“This was your vacation, your single dad vacation, living off truck stop diner food, just driving around aimlessly?” you said.

“Not aimlessly,” he said. “There was a reason I was in your neck of the woods—”

“You were hoping a fucking tornado would force me to take you in to save your life?” you said.

“I was just gonna call you. Or show up here with a huge bouquet of roses and a bottle of that white wine you liked and hope you didn’t kick my ass clear to Tampa,” he said. “I didn’t factor in a tornado.”

“Well fuck me sideways,” you said, the kitchen briefly illuminated by lightning followed so fast by a roll of thunder you knew the storm was right on top of you. Joel’s lips curved in an expression equal parts sly and tender, which you hadn’t understood was even a thing until you’d met him.

“I was working up to that, darlin’,” he said. “I wanted to start with rose petals though—”

“I don’t need them,” you said.

“No?”

“What’s her name, your other little girl?” you asked.

“Ellie. Doesn’t have a middle name,” he said. “You want more context, before you forgive me?”

“Later. Context can come later,” you said, pushing your beer bottle away, getting up and walking around to where he sat. “I want you to come now.”

“You first, darlin’,” he replied, pulling you down onto his lap, trusting you to find your balance because he took your face in his hands, drew you near enough to kiss. “Can I stay?”

You knew he didn’t mean for the night or even the morning after. Lightning must have flickered again but you didn’t see it, your eyes closed as he kissed you. You only dimly heard the sound of the thunder over your half-swallowed moan as his tongue did wicked things to you. You broke away, gasping, his arms wrapped around you tight, just far enough to whisper.

“I never wanted you to go.”

#summer lovin #joel miller #tlou AU #romance #inspired by a moodboard #joel x you #no age-gap #DILF joel #TLOU AU with no cordyceps #pedro pascal characters #ellie williams #sarah miller #tommy miller #no physical description of f! lead

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lotusbxtch · 3 months

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and I lost you [TS drabble challenge]

Here's my entry into @beskarandblasters's Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! I got Maroon and Joel. Get ready for Angst City®️! (Divider by @saradika-graphics)

Song: Maroon (Midnights) Pedro boy: Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x ex!afab!Reader (written in Joel's POV) Word Count: 686 Warnings/tags: post-outbreak, Joel's POV, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, alcohol consumption, infidelity, aaaaangst, heavy reference to Taylor Swift lyrics, not beta'd

Joel lay awake in his bed, shifting his position for the umpteenth time while his memories play over and over in his head. No matter how he wraps his flannel sheets around himself, the bed is never as warm as it is when you were in it with him. But that’s all gone to shit now that he’s lost you.

He knows he’s made a fool of himself. Knows that he’s failed you. You - beautiful, charming, the only one to slip past his defenses, the walls he put up around himself to keep out everything, even the good. He let you into his home and his heart, let you fill it with laughter. He remembers how you told him stories about your college days before the outbreak, about your vinyl shelf full of records, of nights where you woke up on the floor in the late morning after too much cheap rose wine. He told you stories about Sarah, whom he never talked about to anyone besides you and Tommy. Her prowess at soccer, how she would help out their elderly neighbors, the watch she got fixed for him for his birthday - the day before his world ended. He felt safe with you, and you with him. You chose him, and he chose you.

He doesn’t know when it started. But you’d been frustrated with Tommy’s reliance on Joel for border patrol; you felt that he was putting himself in unnecessary amounts of danger. Arguments started cropping up, and more than once you’d left the house to stay at Tommy and Maria’s after particularly bad fights. On more than one of those occasions, he’d trudged to the Tipsy Bison to drown his sorrows and avoid his feelings. And on one of those nights, he let temptation win out.

She was one of Maria’s friends, older than you were, closer to Joel’s age. She’d always blatantly flirted with him, despite him mentioning you and everyone knowing you and Joel were together. She was one of those women who liked challenges, who wanted to play games. She didn’t like that Joel resisted all of her advances, so she waited until he was at his weakest to pounce. Too many whiskeys in, Joel had let her drag him behind the bar. Had let her kiss him, his lips barely moving back against hers in response. She promised she could make him feel better than you did, that he didn’t need a girl like you, he needed a woman - despite you being more of a woman than she could even dream of. He didn’t stop her when she kissed down his neck, when she left marks along his collarbone - ones he knew you’d notice. He was just so mad at you for being right about the patrol shifts, but he felt guilty saying no to Tommy after all this time apart from him. His awful defense mechanisms figured that if you had left the house, it meant you didn’t want him or need him, and he wanted to forget.

But he was so wrong. When he stumbled back to the house, he didn’t expect you to be there. Didn’t think you’d be sipping red wine at the counter, waiting for him. So when he entered the living room, his button-up disheveled, the darkening hickey across his collarbone clear as day, you looked shell-shocked, then distraught, then more angry than you’d ever been before. You took the glass you’d been drinking out of and flung the contents at him, the burgundy splashing onto his t-shirt and face. You said nothing as you stormed out of the house, but right before you slammed the door, he heard the most heart-wrenching sob begin to wrack your chest as you held your head in your hands.

He felt like his heart had been strangled, but he knew everything was his fault. He deserved the full weight of the hurt he made you endure. Laying awake with your memory over him, he realized what a real fucking legacy his betrayal was to leave to you, the one he chose, the one who had chosen him.

#pedro pascal #ppcu fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #taylor swift #taylor swift inspired #writeblr #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller angst

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for-a-longlongtime · 9 months

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Songs and musings in the Key of Peña-Rockford

(Those gun holsters have me all fucked up. Seriously.)

I warned y'all about how obsessive my hyperfocus can get, right? Damn ADHD. The choke hold (all the puns intended) that this fic idea has on me is unreal, haha. But all of your comments and encouragements about this Rockford Pena WIP are making me so happy and relieving some of the stress I feel about writing it - thank you! I don't have another snippet to share just yet (so I hope this post isn't too much of a cock tease), but since I always love to read about character thots and writing processes (e.g. the extra posts by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings about her Destiny & Deliverance series, and @gracieispunk with her White Lotus posts), I figured I'd post a little update with some musings and songs I'm associating with this fic.

My Spotify currently is curated by @sin-djarin, who somehow knew just the right songs that relate to this WIP. Particularly these three tracks are on constant repeat. Going back and forth with her about little things that come up, or question ‘why this and not’ has been so much fun really. It makes me giddy because it turns the fic into something collaborative rather than just something from the inside of my brain, you know?

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Whisper - Morphine

I included this track the other day already with the WIP snippet; it’s sexy and slow and that bass line really gets to me, then the saxophone ups it even more. @sin-djarin sent me several Morphine songs (I have to admit that somehow I wasn’t familiar with them) but this one stands out. The push and pull that’s happening in the lyrics is also delicious, and a lot of it feels like it’s coming from Rockford’s POV about Javi - that’s all I’ll say about it for now.

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A Perfect Twist - Mike Patton

This song has an exuberant, rather bombastic vibe to it that I would’ve never associated with anything related to Peña. Although, those lyrics... they are definitely about brat taming.

I'll bend you over my knee Let's see what you can take You're never gonna break

And I'll squeeze that noose a little tighter Breathing like a snake How much can you take? You're never gonna break

And I'll turn those screws a little tighter You can hardly wait You're never gonna break

Just one more twist of the pliers Got you on the brink How much can you take? You're never gonna break

There’s something about the dizzying tune and pace that somehow evokes the noir-like Rockford vibes in the Merge Mansion clips, laced with liquor and cigarette smoke and things spinning kinda out of control.

Wait who said Masquerade Mansion? 🎭

In relation to these two?

Shhhh let’s pretend you didn’t see that. Keep your eyes wide shut. 🎭

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Broad Daylight - Gabriel Rios

This is the only song that suddenly came to me re: this fic, and I was all… the fuck is this. I like the song, it's catchy, but it just didn’t make any sense to me with regard to Javi and Tim. The only thing I could think of in relation to the track was maybe a vague reference of Peña getting caught up with Los Pepes, things that were done in the dark and shouldn't come out in the daylight:

Back in the old days, tight like a fight Used to hang with the devil in the broad daylight

But still, it puzzled me. I think something in one of the Morphine songs musically led me to Broad Daylight, weird as that may sound. After way too many replays of that song (and @sin-djarin joking about 'what are those Polaroids Tim has on Javi?', since the song mentions polaroids), the relevance of the song finally clicked with me;

Look at you shaking you can't find his plight Got you scared of ghosts in the dead of night While you're making up stories trying to make it ok He'll be bringing them in to let them out and play In the broad daylight

We'll see how it goes from there.

At some point, there's also going to be a bit of Marcus Pike in the fic (pancakes!). I have to be honest - I don’t really read a lot of Marcus!fic, so I’ve been trying to figure out how he fits in and some of his character traits etc. But the wonderful @secretelephanttattoo was very quick to offer me some insights about Marcus that I needed! Go read it here.

TBH, I had absolutely not planned to write anything about Peña any time soon, because why I love him in canon and in the many fics I've read, I didn't exactly feel like I had a good enough handle on writing something about him that has some plot rather than just fucking. But then this fic idea popped up. If there's anyone who knows him really well, it's @goodwithcheese (you'd better be reading her incredible new story Paranoid Heart about Javi!). So I dropped some questions and fortunately she was totally up for some character chat right here, which is really helping me figure out some things. Thank you babe, and I hope more people will contribute thots to your 1K Celebration Confessional about their sins!

Also, I've been trying to put a time and place to the fic, but I've decided to not get too hung up about that because it's really not literature but Fic/Porn With Plot. It doesn't all have to make sense. But in case you're curious, I'm leaning towards this taking place in the US in recent enough times that smartphones are a thing.

Age wise, I'm seeing Tim Rockford as being 48/50 years old probably. Javier is about 40, 41 years old - just to give you an idea of 'which Javi' I'm looking at, I've got a sense of him as he is in Narcos S2 around episode 4-9, after Carillo is murdered, and Berna takes him to see Judy Moncada.

Reader insert (I know, I haven't spoken a lot about her yet!) is probably about 40 years old too. And finally, Marcus Pike is give r take about 37 years old, which corresponds with his Mentalist appearance.

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BTW, I came across an edit that had all of the Tim Rockford bits from the ads without the additional stuff. A whopping total of 48 seconds. Man, I hope that Pedro is aware of how fucked up he has us about Rockford with less than a minute of his acting. Even my wife said 'I would totally watch a show or movie based on this character' when I played the Merge Mansion ads for her.

Finally, here's a video of Pedro talking about "real fantasy fullfillment in terms of getting to immerse yourself in an experience" and how he "loves being a detective, that's fantasy fullfilment for me" re: the Merge Mansion event day.

*hits replay*

Say 'fantasy fullfillment' one more time? Respectfully.

Like I said, I hope he knows how fucked up he has us all about Rockford. I sure am glad he did these ads and whatever he got paid, it sure wasn't enough.

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Updated tag list (comment if you want to be added, or if I added you by accident!) based on folks who commented/reblogged on the prev posts:

@sin-djarin @legendary-pink-dot @imalrightllama @secretelephanttattoo @rhoorl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @trulybetty @goodwithcheese @linzels-blog @rifflovesjoey @maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @youandmeand5bucks @morallyinept @5oh5 @missredherring @avastrasposts @anavatazes @imaswellkid @pedrit0-pascalit0 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @survivingandenduring @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @sheepdogchick3 @inept-the-magnificent @northernwindd @alltheglitterandtheroar @readingiskeepingmegoing @txlady37 @rebel-held @alwaysmicado @heareball @clawdee @covetyou @bellsbluebrd @alltheglitterandtheroar @axshadows @casa-boiardi @bastardmandennis @stealyourblorbos @chronically-ghosted @katw474 @beabliss @nerdieforpedro

I don't know why some usernames don't seem to link when I try to tag them, btw. Does anyone have any suggestions on how to fix this?

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morallyinept · 8 months

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Yes, it's scary. Really scary.

It seems like an insurmountable feat to produce a finished article that you're immensely proud of, but keep to yourself out of fear.

It's terrifying to put a piece of you out there for the whole world to see, and strip apart scathingly down to the bones.

Fucking terrifying.

But, what if it resonates with someone else?

What if it stays with them and touches them so?

What if, that piece of you - that tiny morsel you kept safe in the back of the drawer, gives someone else the strength to do it too? Gives them a reason to try and fly?

Then what?

Someone out there needs your voice, your words. Needs that magic dust you keep sealed in a jar, terrified that it'll lose it's glitter if you blow it into the sky. It won't, bub. It won't.

You, my friend, are an inspiration to someone else.

Never forget that.

🖤

YOU. ARE. STRONGER. THAN. YOU. THINK.

Do you. Then do Dieter.

More Dieter & Jett here

🖤

#self care with dieter & jett #dieter bravo #pedro pascal characters #be an inspiration #you are stronger than you think you are #do you #then do dieter

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violetbranwen · 1 year

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@daddysfavoritesexkitten prompted this - I hope it’s good. GIFs by @a7estrellas

First time’s the Charm

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given. Specific Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Oral (F! Receiving), PiV Sex, Unprotected sex (wrap it up folks irl pls folks even if reader is on BC), Cheating, Cocaine mentions, alcohol consumption, pool sex

Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

Your feet dangle in the cool water of the pool, you swish your feet through the clear water, admiring turquoise and teal mosaic illuminated by the tungsten lights that lined the pool. You sip slowly at the large measure of whiskey in your hand, it was your first drink of the night and you planned for it to be your last.

Your boyfriend, Brian, had slipped off to do coke in the bathroom and you just weren’t prepared for yet another night of babysitting the coked out dude-bro at one of the numerous functions he dragged you to. Some day you were going to break up with him, but you were never good at confrontation.

You’re lost in thought as the most surreal scene plays out in front of you. You watch as a grown man on an inflatable pool lounger floats towards you, he toasts to you with a similarly full glass of whiskey and you smirk as you raise your glass in return.

“What’s a gorgeous creature like you doing all alone out here?” His honeyed voice washes over you like sunshine as you can’t help but respond.

“My coke-head boyfriend ditched me for some other coke-heads, I’d much rather drink alone with my feet in a pool, sue me.” You shrug but the smile doesn’t leave your lips as the man bumps up against the side of the pool to your right, you take him in and realise he’s pretty hot.

You feel the tingle at the base of your spine as you see he’s raking his dark eyes over you. You return the favour and notice the cute swell of his belly, the soft flesh intimately touchable as you watch the droplets of water bead on his tan skin. He’s vaguely familiar but you can’t place why.

“I mean, coke is great,” The stranger drawls with a mischievous smile on his plush lips, “But I bet it’s not as fun as you baby.”

“Oof, hard pass, not going there with yet another coke-head,” You sigh as you drain your whiskey, “Have a good night.” You curse your shitty luck, but as you draw your legs out of the pool a firm hand grips your left ankle. The touch sends arousal through you as his thumb grazes the sensitive skin there.

“Hey, don’t go bonita, I was just pulling your leg.” He winks as he lets you go, you hesitate, ignoring your better judgement as you slide your legs back into the pool. You squeeze your legs together to provide some friction between them. You sigh softly and lock eyes with him.

“That was smooth, what’s your name stranger?” You ask as you roll the cut crystal tumbler around in your hands, your need to touch him building as he drains his glass. His tongue snakes across his bottom lip and you hum as the wetness between your legs builds.

“Javi, Javi Gutierrez.” He flashes a goofy, pearly white smile and you falter. You place the glass down beside you and lean forward, forearms resting on your knees as you regard him once more.

“So this is your party? And you had the balls to question why I was out here?” You tease, the alcohol coursing through your system making you bolder.

“You got me, I’m secretly not actually into all this pageantry shit.” Javi slides off the lounger and swims over to you, he looks up at you with glassy eyes and you raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a hard life being a playboy billionaire.” You say mockingly but he only smiles wider.

“Why don’t you join me in here bonita? The water’s just fine.” He purrs as a hand falls to your knee.

“I don’t have a bathing suit Javi.” You breathe as his hand slides further up your thigh, ghosting the hem of your tight black dress. Your legs part slightly as your breath leaves you.

“No-one else is around, skinny dip, I won’t look I promise.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, your cunt twitching at his soft, alluring voice. You hesitate for a moment, glancing around the pool before giving in to your desire.

“Fuck it.” You say as you pull your dress over your head awkwardly, shimmying it over your ass while you were seated was a small ordeal but you managed it. Your vision goes dark as the fabric covers your eyes. The sensation of two broad palms on either knee makes you moan, and your knees clamp together, only to find the firm torso of Javi Fucking Gutierrez between them. The dress is over your head and you sit there, marvelling at the water breaking against Javi’s golden skin as he drinks you in. You were in a matched set of red lace bra and panties and he seemingly approved.

“You’re even more gorgeous without that dress bonita.” He mumbles into the flesh of your thigh as he leaves hot, sloppy kisses against the sensitive skin. His one hand ghosts the thin fabric that clung to your cunt, soaked through already and he smiles.

“I don’t usually do this,” You breathe, feeling a hint of bashfulness rise in your chest as you continue to look around to check no one else was nearby, “Fuck I’ve never done this.” You say gesturing to the pool.

“First time for everything I guess.” Javi groans as he scoots you closer to the edge, his hot breath against your cunt unbearable as you squirm in his grip.

“Fuck Javi, touch me.” You breathe, the fear of getting caught made you bold, it excites you, and you could tell Javi loves it too. He pushes aside the thin strip of fabric and his mouth finds your core, his tongue slides through your folds slowly, purposefully as he moans into you. His lips find your clit with ease and he begins a slow, punishing rhythm as he alternates between sucking gently before flicking his tongue against the swollen bundle of nerves. You moan as the pressure builds between your legs.

“You’ve got a pretty little mouth bonita, such a pretty little pussy too.” He murmurs against your mound as he brings a finger up to your entrance, pressing gently at your desperate hole.

“Javi please, put it in.” You beg, twitching against his hand.

“As you wish.” He breathes and you feel his smirk against your swollen clit as he pistons into you, curling his finger up, just right to hit the spot just shy of your cervix that made you ache and writhe around him.

“Fuck yes Javi, fuck.” You mewl as his tongue swirls around your clit, his desperate mouth relentless as he lapped your arousal up like a starving man. He inserts a second finger and you feel your orgasm building as he makes long, slow thrusts into you up to the knuckle. Your hands find his hair and you scrape your manicured nails along his scalp as you tug on his hair. You cry out as it hits you. You feel his fingers thick inside you as your pussy clamps down on him, you shudder and gasp as the ebb and flow of your orgasm rocks you hard. It feels like minutes pass but you know it must only be seconds as you twitch helplessly around him.

“Good girl, you taste so good, you want to go another round with my cock this time?” He asks as he slowly removes his fingers before sliding them between his slick coated lips. You answer him by removing your bra and pushing him back from the edge with a gentle nudge of your right foot against his sternum.

“That’s what I like to see, come on in baby, let me show you what a real man’s dick feels like.” He growls, the playful nature all but gone as the arousal makes him desperate.

“How could I say no to that?” You breathe as you roll your panties down and fling them far into the middle of the pool. Javi’s eyes light up at the act and if you hadn’t slipped into the water right that second you knew he would have dragged you in.

You float together for a moment, treading water as you watch the fire behind his eyes dance in anticipation. You swim to him but he treads backwards, retreating further into the pool as you narrow your eyes in frustration.

“Come on bonita, show me how much you want this dick.” He goads you on as you shake your head defiantly.

“I dunno Javi, I’ve already gotten the best orgasm of my life, why would I need to chase you now?” You whisper as the water laps at your skin, the weightlessness is exhilarating as you ride the soft overstimulation that treading water brought. Your thighs rubbing together just brushing your clit with every stroke.

“You’re a sassy one bonita, I like that, your boyfriend, Bruce? Bob-?“

“Brian.” You laugh, correcting him but you knew he was messing with you.

“Yes, Brian, he’s missing out on some of the best pussy I’ve every tasted, and if you’re out here with me and not him, you must be ready for a real man inside of you.” He taunts and you whine as you launch yourself through the water at him, your bodies collide before he can react. He laughs and wraps his arms around your waist, steadying you as he hoists your legs around his hips.

“You going to put your money where your mouth is Gutierrez?” You ask, your lips against his ear, he shudders and you feel the pressure of his cock through his trunks as he grinds against you.

“You know it.” He lifts you just out of the water and latches his mouth on your right nipple, nipping lightly between light flicks of his tongue against your hardened bud. You feel him shift under you as he frees his cock and without warning he was inside you, pulling you down all the way to the hilt on his large cock. The stretch burned slightly but you didn’t care, the glorious pressure of his thickness tearing you open was blinding. Your back arches as he kisses your neck, sucking bluntly at the skin, hard enough you knew it would leave marks.

“Can I kiss you bonita?” He asks softly as he starts to move inside you, gentle, teasing thrusts that rock you to your core as you yearn for more.

“Yes, and Javi?” You breathe as his strong nose presses against yours.

“Yes bonita?” He shudders as he pistons into you slowly, his one hand at your clit rubbing lazy circles as he fucks you.

“Make me scream.” You whisper before crashing your mouth into his, you swallow the moan that rips from him as his tongue presses forcefully into your mouth. He pushes you back in the water, your bare back hitting the poolside as he continues to lick into your mouth forcefully, dominating you as he positions himself to get a better angle.

You melt into him and relish at the hard, unrelenting rhythm of Javi’s thrusts. He nips at your bottom lip and groans whenever you fight back, pressing your tongue into his mouth, pulling on his bottom lip with your own. The pressure inside you builds once more as Javi’s thrusts quicken, his thick cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside you as he expertly thumbs your clit.

“Javi I- I’m-“ You cry out as your second orgasm floods you with hard, blissful pulses of euphoria. Javi stutters only a second later and you know he’s filled your throbbing, desperate pussy with his spend, it didn’t matter you were on birth control. You pant together, forehead to forehead, floating adrift in the pool as you both come down from your climax, Javi is still inside you but you know it can’t last.

“Well that made this boring ass party worth my while.” You say as you force yourself from his sweet embrace. His hand catches your wrist and he smiles at you with a genuine smile, his eyes creasing endearingly at the corners.

“If you’re ever at one of my parties again, find me, let Brian get coke dick and cry himself to sleep, I’ll take care of you chica.” He says softly as he lets you float away. You climb out of the pool and slip your bra, shoes, and dress back on before turning to look at Javi floating blissfully into the pool as he watches you.

“You want these back bonita?” He calls to you, soaked panties dangling from his one hand as you flash him a dazzling smile.

“Keep them, to remember me by.” You wink and the laugh Javi lets out is a delightful, deep belly laugh that makes you grin like a fool.

“Not going to forget you any time soon, enjoy your night bontia!”

You stride back to the party with confidence as you smooth down your dress and when you rejoin Brian he is as out of his mind as you had expected. You sigh and prepare to take him to your room when you spot Javi entering the room to a round of applause.

You roll your eyes at the hero worship but then he catches your gaze and blows you a kiss. You feel his spend leaking out of you and you smile to yourself at the sensation. Heat rises to your cheeks and you blow one back. You ride the high all the way back to the room and consider not dumping Brian until the next time you could meet Javi, then maybe you’d stay in his room instead.

[ Hope you enjoyed this! C&C encouraged and reblogs/comments/likes are appreciated! ]

[ Open for requests! ]

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604to647 · 4 months

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Let Me Carry It for You

(A Safest with You “Big Game” Drabble)

880 words / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din’s love language is Acts of Service.

Warnings: None! All fluff! New-ish established relationship, pet names as usual (Pretty bird, baby, etc.) Contains absolutely no football at all 🏈

A/N: I wrote this on my phone while waiting for the UsherBowl to start 😂 Set after Ch. 11 - The Poker Game but can be read as a standalone ☺️

Series Masterlist

Al races you to the top of the stairs at Din’s place and wins easily; tail wagging, he noses open the door and runs in as soon as you’ve turned the key and pressed down the handle.

“Alfredo!!!”

“We put the Puppy Bowl on for you, bud!!”

Din gets up from his place on the couch, giving you a disapproving look, “Pretty bird, you should have let me help you with the bags,” as he kisses you and takes the offending bags from your hands.

“I thought the point of you giving me a key was so I wouldn’t have to buzz you all the time to be let in,” you say, as you follow behind him to the kitchen. You pat the heads of the Mandos sitting in a row on the couch as you pass behind: Mayfeld, Woves, Jimmy, Paz. Duck, duck, duck, goose.

Din starts unloading the dips and sandwiches from the bags, “I gave you a key because I wanted you to know that I like having you around all the time, that you can make my place, your place.”

His back is turned to you, but you can tell he’s sighing, resigned. It’s always been hard for you to let other people do things for you and it’s been no exception with Din. Din’s love language is acts of service, and sometimes when you don’t let him take care of things for you, whether because you’re used to doing them yourself or you don’t want to burden him, it feels like you’re not letting him love you. He knows that’s not the case, it just feels that way sometimes.

You snake your arms around Din’s middle and lay you cheek against his back, listening to the gentle rhythm of his breathing, “I’m sorry, baby. I’ve done it all on my own for a long time. It’ll just take me a beat to feel safe relying on someone else.”

“Safe?” Din turns to wrap you up in his arms; that wasn’t the word he was expecting you to use.

Pressing your cheek deep into his chest, you murmur, “What if I get used to you doing things for me… then one day, you’re gone? Then where will I be? Or what if you get annoyed at doing things for me that you know I could just do myself? And…”

“… and leave?”

You shrug; it sounds kind of silly when he says it like that.

Din’s hand comes to gently pinch your chin and tilt your head back so he can look in your eyes, “Pretty girl, listen to me. I’m not going anywhere. And if it were up to me, you’d never lift a finger for anything but I know that’s not what you want. Just want to do things for you that make your life easier. Better, okay? I just want to make your life better.”

Tears well along your lower lash line, your chest swelling with emotion. Of course, he does. Din is so caring and respectful of your boundaries, never pushing you to give more of yourself than you’re ready. If anyone is worth the effort of stepping out of your comfort zone, it’s him.

“You do! You do make it better,” you nod and press your lips gently to his, “Okay, I’ll let you carry things for me.” Din smiles, the both of you knowing that your meaning is both literal and figurative. “But, please be patient with me? I’m out of practice.”

“I have all the time in the world for you, pretty bird,” Din cradles your head in his hand and pulls you in for a long, tender kiss. Never parting from your lips, he presses his plush mouth to yours over and over, each touch a self contained promise.

“When you guys are done making out, do you think you can bring out some more wings?” Paz’s voice carries across the apartment.

You giggle and after locating the right takeout box among the many on the counter, tip a generous amount of wings onto a plate. As you go to head back out to the living room, you’re stopped when the hand you have in Din’s is held back. Still leaning against the kitchen counter, Din’s holding your hand but not moving, looking at you with a playful expression. It takes you a second to get his meaning when he looks at you, then looks down at the plate in your hand, then back at you again.

“Omigod,” you roll your eyes as you hold the plate of wings out to him, “Din, can you please carry this for me?”

Din smirks as he takes the plate from you, “See, that wasn’t so hard wasn’t it, baby?”

You stick your tongue out at him as you turn to walk back to the group that’s now loudly cheering some play that’s being replayed in slow mo on the big screen. Din’s long strides catch up to you easily and as he does, he reaches out with his free hand to squeeze your ass, whispering as he passes you, “After the game I’ll reward you for being such a good girl for me.”

Grinning after him, you don’t think you’ve ever been this excited for the live play of a football game to resume.

#the big game inspired #I was bored 🤷🏻‍♀️#din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #modern au #modern!din djarin #din djarin fluff

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ohforficsake · 3 months

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WIP Wednesday Thursday

Thank you as ever for the tag @for-a-longlongtime!

I've been working, very slowly and very much in the abstract, on @wannab-urs' Hozier Drabble Challenge because I love exactly two men . My prompt is "Talk" featuring Ezra and it has been a really interesting experience having never written him before.

Everything is fairly malleable at this stage, but here are a few lines that make enough sense for me to share.

"The nymphs haven’t our flesh," you gasp against his curls. "They have our desires." His lute lies discarded in the grass, wildflowers poking up through its strings. "The nymphs know fertile things in ways we never shall, my darling Eurydice," he whispers against your breast. "And surely they know what comes of something flush with want." He tips his face to brush petal-soft lips against your frantic pulse. "To deny that nature is to deny the nymphs themselves, little dove." "For you see, they don’t care." And the breach of him causes your back to arch, nails digging into the corded muscle of his arms. You bend enough for your eyes to land on the grove of oak trees. Unsure if begging forgiveness. Or reveling in their jealousy.

If you haven't yet shared and you want to, I'm tagging you! Please do tag me, because I'd love to see what you're working on!

#wip wednesday #wish me luck #prospect ezra #hozier drabble challenge #fun bonus fact #Andy in YBMPF is inspired by Andy #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 1 year

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Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 1

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC

SUPPORT YOUR CREATORS. REBLOGGING & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: “Why the hell do I keep doing this to myself? I hate it.”

I sat preparing for my latest virtual meeting to discuss the final report that I had sent to the company I was currently working with. I work as a Technical and Organizational Consultant for one of the largest consulting firms in LA. While I loved what I did, I hated the people part of my job. People could be combative or downright insulting when they didn’t like what I had to say about their company or their role. For someone with high functioning anxiety, these meetings could be literal torture. After reading through my report for the third time that morning, I sat back in my chair staring at the wall, unblinking. My right hand was sitting just below my collarbone with fingers lightly tapping on the curve of my shoulder. It was one of my many nervous habits. Outwardly it just appeared that I was deep in thought. On the inside, I was working myself up to a mild internal panic attack that never had any obvious signs to the casual observer. I could feel my chest tightening and my heart was starting to pick up pace. I took a deep breath and tried to relax a little.

My phone buzzed on the table. It was a text message from my best friend, Lauren.

LAUREN: I swear the nerve of some people. I had a lady criticizing everything I said during my stained-glass workshop this morning. Like, why are you even here if you know how to do it already?!?! Respectfully ma’am, please go back to your bridge. What a ducking troll. Anyway, long story short, I’m done early. I’ll be there soon with coffee.

LAUREN: Damn you autocorrect. Let me be angry!

I laughed to myself. She was such a nut.

ME: Lol! Can’t wait to hear all the gory details of how that worked out for her. Come on in. I’m about to jump on this virtual meeting so I can get yelled at.

LAUREN: Engage bitch mode. You’ll be fine and they will regret their existence.

ME: Don’t worry, you know my face is in perpetual bitch mode anyway and I can’t seem to fix it. At least I have that going for me.

LAUREN: I am happy you are finally embracing it.

I set my phone back down and joined the meeting. I could always tell who was going to be the problem as soon as we got started. This time it would be one of the division heads, Mr. Smith. He wasn’t fully engaged with the small talk and pleasantries while we waited for everyone to join. He looked agitated and fidgety. I had a feeling he would be a problem when I was on-site for the visit. He didn’t like all the questions and was reluctant to provide details on his processes. Once everyone joined, we immediately dove into the report and discussions about ways to improve the company.

Lauren walked in just as we were getting to the part I was dreading. She set my coffee to the side of my laptop and sat opposite me at the table, scrolling through her phone. Intently listening to the drama unfold.

Mr. Smith interrupted me as I began going over my findings for his area.

“Sorry, to interrupt…,” I could feel the tension form in my jaw. I could only imagine what my face looked like. He continued, “I don’t really think this is necessary. I’ve got everything figured out with logistics and it seems to be working pretty well. I don’t understand how making all these changes and getting some fancy software is going to do anything but cause more issues. If we are trying to save money, how is spending more money going to solve whatever perceived problems you think we have? I am not even sure why we wasted the money for you to tell us things we could have figured out ourselves.”

I hear Lauren mutter, “oh he is about to find out” as she shakes her head from across the table.

I took a deep breath and slowly bobbed my head up and down. Everyone on the call was completely silent. The owner of the company, Will Stevens, looked completely mortified.

I smiled, “Mr. Smith, I don’t feel the need to explain why I’m qualified to do what I do and I’m not going to. What I will come back with are facts. This company currently has a 1.5 star rating for shipping times. When you have companies regularly shipping within 2 business days, don’t you think up to 2 weeks for your items to ship is a little excessive? That isn’t going to keep customers coming back. Furthermore, there are a high number of complaints indicating that part of your customer’s orders arrived incomplete, or no order arrived at all. There are also a high number of complaints relating to poor packaging and items arriving broken. Now, forgive me if I am wrong, but the logistics of these issues is your area, correct?”

Mr. Smith sat there wide eyed and gave a slight nod. Clearly my point was being made. I could see Lauren in my periphery pumping her fist in the air and trying so hard to keep her laughing quiet.

“Now, your current method of using spreadsheets in a share drive that everyone has access to is a little antiquated and doesn’t properly track orders. Not to mention the human error that goes into everyone accessing and editing that spreadsheet. That may have been doable when the company was small and just getting started, but not now. You have expanded too much. Add all that to manually requesting each shipping label online from the carrier resulting in incorrect address entry and you are failing before you even get started. If you use custom software that handles all this it will cut out a lot of the steps, increase shipping time and accuracy of orders, while also automating a lot of the steps. Therefore, increasing overall productivity and customer satisfaction and leading to more sales. This is only a small piece of the puzzle. All divisions need to be better streamlined in different ways, so they work better as a unit. Quite frankly, your division needs the most work in order for all the others to fall in line as they need to. Now, do you have any further questions you would like addressed Mr. Smith?”

Multiple staff members were clearly trying to stifle a laugh, including the business owner. Mr. Smith sat with his mouth agape for a brief moment before responding with, “No, I think that covers it.” Then he proceeded to turn off his camera and eventually left the meeting as we worked through some strategies and plans for moving forward. As soon as I logged off and closed my computer, I let out a shaky breath. I needed a drink after that one. In my mind, I immediately started running through everything I had said, second guessing myself. What if I was wrong about something? Should I have been so blunt in my response?

Lauren pulled me out of my thoughts. “And that my dear is why you are so badass. The nerve of that guy! I bet he won’t talk down to anyone like that ever again. Maybe he can hook up with the troll lady from this morning. I think they were made for each other!” She said and laughed at her own joke.

I stared at her for a minute. “Why the hell do I keep doing this to myself? I hate it.”

“Because you make a shit ton of money and you’re good at it.” Lauren says with conviction.

I rub my face with both hands and look up at her through my fingers, “I don’t know what I want to do anymore. I just feel lost. I think I’m hitting my mid-life crisis. This is not where I saw myself at 38 years old.”

Lauren looked at me with concern, “you absolutely cannot be talking like that. You are my life advisor and supposed to have your shit together.” Her look quickly changed to amusement. She was trying to cheer me up.

“I’m sure once things settle down with the divorce and everything, you’ll figure it out. You’ve just had a lot of changes recently and need time to adjust.”

“The divorce is final. It’s done. As of Monday,” I said with a deadpan look.

“Oh. Well, that’s good! Right? Now you don’t have to have anything to do with that asshat anymore.”

“Yeah, I guess. I just don’t know myself anymore. He really fucked me up. I don’t know how to be on my own. I mean, we had been together since college. I basically molded myself and my life around that asshole. I just don’t know where to start.”

I got up and poured myself a very large glass of wine, which had become routine as of late. Lauren stared at me disapprovingly.

“It’s a little early in the day for that, don't you think? Maybe stick with the coffee.”

“Coffee doesn’t have the desired effect. Besides, I might need to lay off the caffeine. I can’t sleep as it is. I’m not even sure how I’m functional if I’m being honest. I think my anxiety may be getting worse too. I’m fairly certain I almost had an actual panic attack the other day because I couldn’t handle picking out clothes for work. Who fucking does that? I’m literally second guessing everything I do.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. This is all on him. I just wished you had been open with me about the way he was treating you sooner. Maybe I could have talked some sense into you years ago. I feel like I’ve been such a shitty friend because I didn’t even realize what was actually happening. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“Lauren, stop that. You didn’t know because I didn’t want you to. I was really good at hiding it. That part is on me.”

Lauren had been my saving grace the last six months. We had been best friends since high school, and she was literally the only one I had left. I lost touch with most of them when I married Justin, which was by design as I realized many years later. Everyone else that came into my life after that was his friend first. They got me by default and dropped me as soon as I filed for divorce. I was starting over in all aspects of my life and it was terrifying and depressing. Luckily, I had Lauren to help me through everything and keep me sane.

My phone rang. It was my boss, Aubrey, calling. Most likely to see how the meeting went this morning. Aubrey and I had a long history and tended to be pretty blunt with each other. She was a little older than me, but not much. I had been her TA back when she used to teach college courses. We became close and I looked to her as a mentor in my early years. I was one of the first people she brought on board when she opened her own consulting firm.

I moved the phone to my ear as I answered.

“Hey, I was just about to…” she cut me off before I could finish the sentence, “so I heard your meeting went well.”

It was a statement. I couldn’t read much from her tone, but I didn’t think she was mad.

“Yeah, I mean, you know, the usual stuff. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“I just got off the phone with Will. He says he has a job opening. He joked about hiring you full time.”

The phone was loud enough that Lauren could hear the conversation. She started to chuckle. I rolled my eyes at her and started pacing around the kitchen.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear he is down an employee. Did he say who?” I said with thick sarcasm.

“A Mr. Smith I believe. Apparently, he turned in his resignation as soon as your meeting was over. He refuses to learn new software. Will said it saved him the trouble of firing his ass, so that made his day.”

“Well, I’m happy to be of service then, I guess,” I said flatly. She laughed at my tone.

“Well, now that you’re wrapping up that account, I would like to talk to you about the next one. I know it’s kind of last minute and completely out of your service area, but I need my best one on this. It’s a big contract and without saying too much to cause some bias inclinations on your part, they possibly have some issues that I don’t trust anyone else to handle. I need someone who won’t be bullied into submission or be afraid to say what they are thinking to the CEO.”

“So, is the CEO on board with this? Or…? I’m not following.”

“Yes, the CEO is one hundred percent on board. He is actually an old college friend and trusts that I will send my best to handle it. He has suspicions about some things, which I have asked him to not discuss with you at all, by the way. I made it clear that you do not like knowing personal suspicions before your evaluation.”

“Ok. This sounds like it’s gonna be a blast. That’s sarcasm by the way in case you missed it.” I sighed heavily, “So, out of my service area…where is it exactly?”

“It’s in New York. I’ve had your flight scheduled for Sunday. First class, I might add. You will be there until the following Friday.”

“Waaaait a minute! New York?!?! That’s WAY out of my service area and you know I hate flying. That’s literally the farthest away from where I’m currently at. No way. I’m not doing it.”

“You took that well. Can’t wait for the updates. I’ll have the details sent over and I will talk to you next week.” Then she hung up.

I pulled the phone away from my ear, staring at it in utter shock. “Fucking bitch. Did that really just happen?”

Lauren ran over to me with a concerned look on her face and turned me toward her, “What’s wrong?!?!”

“I guess I’m going to New York.”

“I thought you didn’t have to go anywhere you couldn’t drive to?”

“Apparently, it’s a special account. I knew it, I am going to lose my shit.”

“Well, maybe while you’re there, you can find a hottie to entertain you. I think getting laid would do you some good. Seriously, how long has it been?”

I gave her an annoyed look and sat back down at the table. “We are not talking about my sex life right now and that is out of the question. A man is the last thing I need right now.”

“I’m not saying you gotta keep him. It’s just for a night, or three.” She shrugged and smiled at me.

“You are so ridiculous. As your life advisor, I totally do not approve of that type of behavior. Is that the shit you're doing these days?”

Lauren feigned shock that I would even suggest such a thing.

“Absolutely not. I am not that type of girl. I am looking for a serious relationship. I just haven’t had any luck with that. The dating pool around here is sooo ridiculous. The last guy I thought might be decent, gave me a belt buckle as a gift on our last date. Initially I thought it was a neat and unique gift, but I think it was just his weird way of saying he wanted to get into my pants. So, I dropped him real quick.”

I gave her a blank stare for a few seconds, then doubled over in laughter. Tears started to pour out of my eyes, and I was gasping for air. Because of the serious way she said it and the look on her face, I absolutely lost it.

Lauren stood there with her hands on her hips giving me a sour look.

“He seriously gave you a belt buckle?!?!” I said through laughter. Once I calmed down a bit, I asked, “what the hell did it look like? I hope it was at least expensive.”

“I don’t know. It was gold, oval, and bulky. Very tacky. Not something I would ever actually use. I don’t even wear stuff like that.”

“Well, thanks for the laugh. I needed that,” I said as I chuckled.

She huffed then sat back down across from me with her elbows propped on the table.

“That’s enough about me. Back to you. Seriously, if you find a guy to waste some time with while you are there, go for it. Please don’t spend the whole week working. At least get out and explore the city or something.”

“I never have time for any of that when I am doing visits. I’ll have a lot of stuff to review. You know that. This seems like an important contract too. I need to focus. At least it will be a decent distraction and get me away from here for a bit. Maybe it will do me some good.”

“Well, when you get back, we are doing something fun. I don’t know what, but it’s happening. I will plan a girl’s day for us.”

“Greaaat. I can’t wait.” Lauren looked offended and I laughed. “Well, I guess our lazy Friday evening has been ruined. I need to pack and prep,” I said as I downed my glass of wine.

“I’ll help you pack. I’ve got to make sure you’re looking hot.”

I rolled my eyes at her as I got up and started walking to my bedroom. “Stop that shit. I’m going to work, not looking for a one-night stand.”

Lauren followed behind me as she laughed. “Hey, you never know what destiny might bring your way. Don’t knock it.”

She spent the next several hours helping me pack and picking out my clothes for the week. I am pretty sure she snuck some unnecessary items into the suitcase, but either way, I was thankful for her help. It was less decisions I had to make and then question later.

I spent Saturday prepping and reviewing the documents that had been sent in advance. They were pretty thorough, containing organizational charts, job descriptions, operations manuals, financial processing details…the list goes on. Pretty much anything I might need, they sent. At least they had it all on paper and I wouldn’t have to document as much during the on-site visit. That was a relief. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so I wasn’t sure what the big deal was with this one.

On Sunday, I was a bundle of nerves. I hardly slept any and was dreading the five-hour flight from LA to New York. I was actually wishing I had talked to my doctor about some anti-anxiety medication. She had offered it in the past, but I declined because I hate taking any kind of medications unless I absolutely had to. I have been determined to deal with things without being medicated. I also tend to have weird reactions to meds. I really could have used it at that moment though because I absolutely hate flying. I had a large glass of wine before the Uber picked me up in hopes it would help me relax. I’m not sure it made much of an impact. I was a hot mess throughout the whole boarding process. A/N: Don't worry, Dieter makes an appearance in the next chapter.

NEXT CHAPTER

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