#Marcus Burnett | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cuddl3s4shur1 · 4 months ago

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•𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄•

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐘/𝐍

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒, (𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏)

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎: What happens when Armando trys Protects Y/N

𝐀/𝐍:Had to rewatch Bad Boys for life just to see him

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄: 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒

Music: TELEKINESIS By Travis Scott, Future And Sza

Esa Mujer By Tony Vega

TGIF By Glorilla

Liquor By Chris Brown

“Time to go in, we're going to get the girl, she is a fighter, she can repair people and shoot a gun 20 feet away” James would say signaling for people to go in the house.

Silently a group of 6 men would walk in the house, leaving no prints. 2 Men would walk into your bedroom to get you. Sleeping lightly you would feel their touch. You would pretend to sleep for a while, before shanking the man closest to you in the neck.

The guard would fall back causing the other man to drop you, while on the ground shanking him in the leg. Feeling around in the dark getting the dead man's gun. Getting the gun shooting the other guard down. Putting the gun on your side you stayed low. Another man would enter your room trying to find you. Seeing his leg, you pulled it causing him to hit his head on the way down. Shanking him in the neck now hearing his blood curdle as he tries to stay alive.

3 down and whoever to go

A fourth now entered the room, You would play dead, Hiding the gun to the side of your PJs The shank in your hand still.

“Boss we have a problem, She and 3 other guards are dead,” He says, he gets close and squats to your body, checking your pulse, you shank him in his foot and shoot him in the head. Getting up you would hide by the doorway. Fifth guy walks in instantly you shoot him in the head. The leader James walks in. “Y/nn” he would hum your name, “Your doing all this, but you don't want to kill me” he says looking around for you in this darkness.

“You see if you kill me I will have my guys hurt your parents and all the other elders who are in this retirement home” he says he squats down and grabs your chin. “So, what do you want to do hmm,” he says tilting your head at you. “I’ll go” you admit. He would give you an evil toothy grin. His hand would leave your chin. He would get up and so would you.

Armando was awake, he didn't make a move because he knew how dirty the man plays. “Te llevaré de vuelta a casa sano y salvo, (I'll take you back home safe and sound)”. He would try to whisper, his accent was thicker than you had heard. You would nod your head in acknowledgment.

James would send four people to get the dead bodies on the plane as they were going to dispose of them later. He would hear the rest of the plan, which was them going to be in the car and the plane was only for disposal. Armando watched as it all took place, trying to decide if he wanted to tell the team. He would waste anxiously thinking of a plan. He got no sleep after seeing it go down, he was hoping nothing would happen to you.

Sunlight would approach, throughout the blinds being bright. Practically shouting for people to wake up. Kelly and Dorn had woken up and were talking about the last night between You and Armando.

“They may dislike each other now, but I guarantee to give them like 2 months and they will be locked in,” kelly said, Dorn nodded his head in agreement. Mike and Marcus had got woken up by a phone call. Mike answers the phone to make the ringtone stop.

“Look its rita” they would smile at eavhother before answering. “Can you guys call y/n she's not answering her phone.” Rita tells them, they would look at each other. “That crazy shes hear with us” Mike tells her, Armando would come out of the room. “If your talking about y/n than your wrong. She got kidnapped last night” His thick accent would come out, and he would try to be cold but they knew he felt some type of emotion. “We have new info, and y/n isn't with us she was kidnapped” Marcus would get up and start pacing the room. Kelly and Dorn had eavesdropped and heard the news.

“Shit, they came into her home and know of us did shit to save her,” Marcus said he was slightly angry. “Why, why did she go” He would ask Armando as he was the only one who knew what happened. “The guy threatened to bomb an elderly home that had her parents and other people's parents, so she went. She did give a fight killing 5 with a shank and depending if how he checked her she still has her gun. “ Armando would say they listened and still were trying to figure out who it was.

“I just know they were white, that's all I know to be honest, so what are we going to do to get her back, I made her a promise and I don't break promises” He says to them, they nod arms were crossed as they were thinking. “Well you have to Id him and all of the files that caption has left us is at my home. But knowing whoever did this they probably set a trap somehow to get to those files” Dorn admits, they all nod in agreement, trying to figure out what they would do if they were the villains trying to stop people from catching them. “They probably did something to either her car or ours, so we gotta figure out which one” Kelly says. They all go get ready to start the day.

Marcus was in the kitchen trying to see if she had any junk food. “Ahh man, all this organic shit, her roommate ain't got no junk food either” he would whine as he had checked all the cabinets and fridge. “Marcus stop trying to find some stuff that's not for your diet,” Mike says, Marcus huffs and puffs and gets all together. They would leave her crib, Armando getting the keys to her house and the truck they stole. Mike had got the keys to her car.

They left her home like how it was before hand, cleaned they all got their tech devices and headed to the truck.They took a risk seeing which car was going to be trashy and they were right, it was the one they stole from the country ones, as soon as he started it up the back of tje truck would catch on fire. Armando jumped out in time so he wouldn't get hurt.

They would extinguish the fire before getting in her car. Armando would sit in the driver's seat as they realized her car had the same vibe as her house, “pretty in pink” The outside of her car was black, she had a black car and her windows were tinted. The inside had pink seat covers bedazzled cup holders and other items like tissue boxes and purse holders.

He would Bluetooth his phone to the car, playing some music, and his playlist would be on shuffle. Some Travis Scott would play, as the dorn would give the directions.

As he would continue to drive for a good 15 minutes his music would still play. Each time there was a turn, he would turn sharply; burning rubber as he drove. “Thats him“ he would admit to everyone, dorn would open his laptop quick to Id him. He would drive in reverse as the guy was obviously trying to crash into them. Flipping him off as he drove in reverse they would all hear muffled gun shots. Than they seen y/n come to front of the car shooting the body gaurd in the head leaving it between...

“James, His name Is James McGrath“ he would Armando would smirk, They could obviously see that You and James had a disagreement. He would leave from the driver seat letting the car go wherever, Marcus and Mike would start shooting the tires so the truck would slow down. You and James would roll out in the middle of the street. Cars and trucks would hunk in this madness.

James would pick you up and run on the sidewalk. Armando would hit you in the middle of traffic and switch lanes yet still be able to keep a view on you at all times. James would try and shoot at your car but he missed. This would continue down for blocks. Armando would adjust himself in the seat. He would stick his head out the window and shoot McGrath in the leg. You would bite the tape off of your wrists. Getting ready to run but James would pull your leg so you fell as well. The plane for James would land, and his other bodyguard you would run but he would pick you up and place you over his shoulder, you would kick and scream.

“Marcus where are your glasses” Mike asks, Marcus would side eye him of disapproval.

“Man I don't need no goddamn glasses, also I'm sorry lord” Marcus would say before putting hid together to pray again.

“You sure because all of those shots you just did was missed” Mike would laugh.

“Fine hand me my glasses” Marcus says as he excepted defeat. Mike pulled them out of his pocket as he stored them there because he knew Marcus was totally gonna need them

Kelly would begin to read the lips of James wondering why Y/n was still over there. “If you help me I’ll let you go and I won't hurt your family alright” he says as he started to beg and plead. “Let me see your phone “ she hold her hand out. He gives it to her obviously in plane. “HURRY THE FUCK UP” the pilot shouts. “ONE MINUTE” his horse voice says. “Now tell your guys to stop whatever their Doing evacuate the retirement home and make them go to another retirement home or the family home” Y/n would order to him, she would prop him up, against the wall. “Yall, don’t hurt the elders don’t bomb or nothing, i got the wrong person so cancel those plans alright” he says basically pleading.

“You got a shirt on under their” You asked james, He would nod in agreement, you took off his shirt, she still had a wife better on under it. Looking to see if children were around you would face him to take your tank top off.

“Ahh what the fuck is she doing” Marcus would yell.Everyone would look to see what was happening. They would see you rip your shirt in half . You put on James old sure and tied it in the back so it would fit you. “By what I am mouth reading, She’s going to fix his bullet wound” Kelly tells them. Armando Would grit his teeth, He didn't like you of all people in his… shirt. He also didn't like how you you had your chest all exposed basically to Miami but mainly James. His focus would be lost for a minute as he looked in awe on how effortlessly pretty you looked.

Looking both ways while still in hurry you managed to run across the street you your car. You would signal to whoever was the driver to roll down the window. “Princesa, ¿qué estabas haciendo sin camisa? (Princess, what were you doing without a shirt?)”, He would ask as you were in a hurry looking back to see what condition James was in to see if you should engage with his conversation.

“Ese va a ser su vendaje, Pop the trunk (That's going to be his bandage) “ you tell him he nods his head and does what he's told. You get your medical kit and this time you run through traffic not caring. Pushing back his jeans to see the bullet wound. You would stuff 3 gauze into the bullet wound. Getting your ripped tank top you tie it around his leg. Tying it tight you help him up so he can limp to the plane as he makes it on the plane the other body guards goy didn't shoot.

You made it back to the car banging on the car door on the driver's side. “Open the door” you shout at him. He opens the door questioning you “where am I gonna sit its pack in there” he says to you, I don't know I don't care people gon have to lap up or something “ you tell him, an idea would click in his mind. A smirk would creep on his lips. “Oh no whip that smirks off your lips I know your idea exactly, “you tell him he lets out a chuckle.

You stick your head in the car “Guys does someone want either lap up or be squished because I am not sitting on that one lap” You point directly at him, his eyes plead as he looks at people in the back “How about I drive and I and Marcus are in front, kelly and dorn get their own seats and Yall are going to have to lap up” Mike says, you think about this idea, realizing you still had to lap up with Armando You eye rolled. In the corner of your eye you totally seen Mike wink at Armando.

Kelly would open the passenger door to get out and Mike and Marcus would replace them. You would give Dorn and Kelly their own space As you would have to sit in his lap. “Before you start the car can I put on my Hot Girl summer playlist” You ask and plead. Armando would disconnect his phone from the blue tooth so you could play your music. You would connect your music. “I’m letting y'all know this music is really ratchet” you say making sure everyone understood.

“Wait, wait wait” Uncle Marcus would say, Mike would start driving at a chill tempo. “What is a hot girl summer” He asks you, looking back to make eye contact. “It's being carefree so you can have fun and bag men in the summer so you will be warm in winter, Like if you're in a relationship you can't have a hot girl summer, it's only for when you are single” you explain to them, they nod of understanding. Smiling you turn your music on.

Your playlist would start off calm starting of with upbeat but chill-tempo songs. After a while your music did in fact get ratchet with your top 10 songs playing.

“aye its 7 pm Friday 95 degrees I ain't got no nigga and nigga ain't got me” you pat your chest saying it with your full chest. Armando would put his hands on his waist and turn you to the side. Looking back at him to sing the next lyrics you change your mind. As so did everyone else, they all have you a deep side eye as the lyrics would continue. “Así que no me tienes (So you don't have me.)” he would ask you being dead serious. “Quiero decir, no eres mi hombre ahora, ¿eres tú? (I mean your not my man now are you” You ask him being funny.

“Enough enough, no more hot girl summer music, if you don't turn on chill summer music that's not talking about getting ratchet in the club, in gonna pop your in the mouth next time I hear you let out a peep of those lyrics” Marcus would let out, you would look down trying to look all sad before putting your hands together to plead. “Please Uncle I'm just young and turnt” you would say. His head would disagree and just lay back letting your “chill” summer music play instead of the “others”

After a while you would be knocked out of sleep, lying on Armando's chest. Everyone would give a quick glance from time to time seeing that all her adrenaline was gone. “So son you lucky she's sleep but don't be breaking no hearts alright, I know you my nephew but she's my daughter's friend and my goddaughter so if you hurt her you gon get fucked up” Marcus explains to him, Armando would understand and have no intentions to hurt her whatsoever.

“I understand and I won't let it happen“ He would say the two guys in the front would nod, After A good 30 minutes you guys where finally at Kellys and Dorns Shared Home. Armando would pick you up bridal style and you in still trying to not wake you up. He knew you were probably sleepy since you where up and kidnapped and had to stay at high alert for all of the hours. Yeah she was nurse but being kidnapped and being a a nurse are 2 different things. Plus she didn't get her full sleep amount that she usually does.

“Can I get everyones attention” Mike would call out, They would start to huddle around mike wanting to know what he was about you say. “Now that we know it's James McGrath we don't stop here, because we don't know how deep caption was to finding him, so we are going to check every file, read 1-2-3-4 times if we have to just to see if its a secret code, Alright. Were not this for ourselves were doing it for Captains legacy and for the department because at the end of day we are Bad Boys for life” Mike says every nods and goes to get tote with files minus Dorn he would be on the computer.

You would wake up a good 15 minutes later and touch base with Mike about what was going on and what you needed to do, You would get a clear understanding of it. And Go sit down with Armando to Help him.

“What you gonna do, what you gonna do when they come for you” Marcus would start to sing everyone would join in sounding like a beautiful harmonized melody.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@omg-mymelaninisbeautiful

#armando aretas imagine #armando aretas fanfic #armando x reader #armando aretas #bad boys for life #bad boys ride or die #bad boys #marcus burnett #mike lowrey

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chaniceroses · 5 months ago

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Bad Boys Ride or Die (Armando x Reader) Part FIVE

(Audio to listen to while reading. :)

youtube

Pulling into the driveway, there was a thick dreadful moment of tension in the car. “Would you like us to come in and check it out for you. "Mike asked, looking at you through his mirror. You shook your head and got out of the car, the world felt dark and every shadow that was near the trees reminded you of the guy in the van. It took you a while but eventually you were able to unlock your door. Once you turned around and gave Mike a small smile, they pulled out the driveway and left.

Grabbing your gun from the holster that was wrapped around your leg. You went inside to be met by multiple figures inside your living room. Before you could respond, you found yourself on the ground with a pounding feeling coming from the back of your head. Your vision was blurry and the room was spinning.

“What the fuck.”, you whispered trying to pull yourself off the ground. You watched as a man walked up to you and kneeled down to your level.

“You know I've missed you, right?”, he laughed, picking you up and setting you in a chair. You thought to yourself, maybe you should’ve asked Marcus and Mike to search your house, then again, someone still needs to be alive to prove Captain’s innocence.

“What do you want?”, you sighed, holding the back of your head. You felt a warm substance on your head, and could feel chills move across your body. Blood.

“I hate it has to be this way. Especially between us.”, a hard rugged voice replied sitting right in front of you. You could see the lights being turned on, which made it hard for your eyes to be adjusted. Once your vision became clear, there he was. Sitting in front of you with a smile that could haunt you even in death.

“McGrath,”you muttered. Your eyes-widened in shock, what is he doing? Why was he doing all of this?

“You’ve finally recognized me. I was hoping you wouldn’t forget who I was or my name.”, he stated caressing his hand across your face. You threw your head back in rejection, which quickly made you regret doing that.

“I know you didn’t think I would forget about you and the things you did to me. Having me tortured…nearly killed years ago.”, he explained getting up from in front of you.

Memories started coming back from that night. Watching him and his team getting beaten by the Cartel. You had no choice, you were undercover and accidentally fell in love with him but had to choose your career. The only difference is, that you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place.

“McGrath, you know that I didn’t want to do that!”, you exhaustingly yelled. “I had no choice, they were my family too. I have no one now.”, you continued.

“And whose fault is that?”

You threw your head back in defeat, he had a reason to feel that way. You put yourself first instead of him, the person you had loved. He had helped you get to where you are now and showed you the way. All you could do was stare at him, the way his short gray hair stood up and the way he caressed his goatee mustache while being deep in thought.

“I cared about you then…and still do now but that shit doesn’t even matter.”, he continued standing up and walking to the backroom. You watched as he went down your hallway, what was he doing. Suddenly you heard a loud cry from your room.

“McGrath!”, you screamed in terror. The cries were getting louder and louder each step that was taken. You watched intensively to see who it was and when you saw him, your heart dropped.

“LadyBug…”, you cried, feeling a tear come down your face. “McGrath, please.”, you pleaded slowly, trying to get up from your seat only to be pushed back down by one of McGrath’s workers.

“McGrath, kill me. Please!”, you begged. “Kill me, he’s done nothing.” You watched as McGrath’s face softened while looking at you.

“I hate that in order for me to see you care for someone, is like this.”, he replied, keeping his grip tight on LadyBug while grabbing a pillow.

“The money is in his computer file, you know that already so why are you doing this.”, you replied hysterically. At this point your vision was blurry from crying and you forgot all about the pain on your side and neck. McGrath was sinister and believed in revenge. You knew that he would take LadyBug out because you cared about him. You had to figure something out.

“Let me help you.”, you sighed looking around at his workers then back to McGrath. “Please, I can help you. You know I can.” You slowly got up but before you could take a step, his assistants grabbed your shoulders.

“Let her come.”, McGrath demanded, holding the pillow behind LadyBug’s head.

You walked up to LadyBug and stared at him.

“Home. Late.”, he quietly replied, pointing towards the clock. When you turn to look at the clock and then the window, that’s when you put two-and-two together.

“You’ve been in my home the whole time?”, you sobbed looking at McGrath. There was anger and pure hatred in his eyes while he looked at you. You could feel it however, you felt the same. You grabbed LadyBug’s hand and started to caress it with your fingers. You knew if you were to tell him that everything was going to be okay, that would be a lie. So all you could do was wipe his tears.

“Mc…McGrath. Take me, kill me, torture me. Do whatever.”, you stuttered, swallowing a lump that you didn’t know that was developed in your throat. You watched as he searched your eyes for an answer.

“You look so beautiful when you cry y/n.”,he heckled, taking his other hand to hold up your chin.

You stared at each other for what felt like forever, until you felt your ears begin to ring. You felt yourself holding onto something but afraid to look down to see what it was. No more tears could fall down, you felt empty.

“I still love you.”, McGrath smiled, kissing you on top of your forehead. For that kissing placement to be such a soft gesture, it felt hot, hard and evil. You stood there holding onto whatever was in your hands as McGrath grabbed his things and headed towards the door.

“I want Mike, Marcus and Armando. You have some decisions to be making so I'll be saving you for last.”, he continued opening up your front door and holding it for the others to walk out. You felt alone, for the very first time ever. First you had to make a decision when it came to your career however, now this is different.

“I won’t be coming home, so don’t wait up for me but make sure you clean up.”, he sarcastically said, looking at you one more time before closing the door.

“LadyBug…I-”, you stuttered, holding his body up towards your chest. You could feel his body leaning against yours. You kneeled down until you were able to completely sit on the ground while holding his body to ensure that he wouldn’t get hurt.

“My badge…LadyBug, I can…my badge.”, you silently repeated. You were afraid to look down, to see his lifeless body being held in your arms. From the little boy that would come over your house, talk and eat with you everyday, and play in your yard to now being dead is in your arms. The boy who would stay up and hike out in a tall tree to be sure that you would make it home every night. The little boy with the sweetest spirit and the most soft spoken voice, was now dead while you held him ,lifeless.

You finally got the courage to look down to see that one of his lenses in his glasses was broken. He was covered in bruises and blood was coming from the top of his head.

“LadyBug, I’m so sorry LadyBug!! I’m so sorry!”, you screamed, grabbing his body and holding him tighter than before. Hours had passed since McGrath had killed LadyBug and you were still on the ground holding LadyBug close to your chest, until you heard a knock on the door.

“Help me!”, you loudly whispered, pushing LadyBug’s hair out of his face.

You watched as your door was kicked open and saw Marcus and Mike rush in. They stopped in their tracks and examined your living room until they saw you on the ground holding LadyBug.

“Y/N, WHAT THE HELL…”, Mike yelled running over towards him.

“He came, he came…and he killed LadyBug, he killed him. He came! McGrath!”, you whispered repeatedly rocking LadyBug back and forth.

“Y/n we have to call for help. Let us help-”

“NO! We leave him here! We have to kill him, we have to kill him before he kills us and Armando. We need Armando, I need him.”, you yelled looking at Marcus and Mike. They had a concerning look on their face.

“Why do you need Armando?”Marcus replied, coming closer to you. At first you were hesitant but now everything must go out on the table,

“It’s a long story.”, you sighed, sniffing the snot that was trying to come out of your nose. “We have to leave now, help me”, you pleaded, falling into Mike’s arm while holding LadyBug’s in yours. You watched as Marcus carefully picked up LadyBug’s body and carefully laid him on the couch and covered him.

“Come here…”, Mike whispered, picking you softly bridal style. You winced in pain from the bruise on your side but soon found yourself comfortably in Mike’s arm.

“I couldn’t get my things, I couldn’t save him Mike.”, you cried as Mike carried you to his car.

“It’s not your fault, y/n. We will catch that son of a bitch. I promise you that.”, he replied, taking off his jacket and covering you with it.

You thought things would change and be different. If you would’ve known that McGrath would’ve come back and chased, you like a dog and caused all of these problems. You would’ve killed him years ago, to avoid all of this, especially Ladybug’s death. Your mind felt cold, and you wanted to be sure that McGrath saw the pits of hell. His death belonged to you, and you were sure you were going to get it. That was the last thing on your mind before you passed out.

#armando x reader #jacob scipio #armando armas #bad boys armando #bad boys ride or die #bad boys ride or die armando #armando aretas #x reader #Youtube #will smith #martin lawrence #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #new writers on tumblr

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fictionalreads · 4 months ago

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This Was Never Meant to Be What It Feels Like (Part 3)

A/N: Heeeeeeey...How y'all doing?....I know it's been a couple weeks when I said days but a part of this just did not want to be written! Also, this one is a bit of a beast, just over 5,200 words. This is the final part of this lil mini series, I hope y'all enjoy and the conclusion is satisfying for you guys.

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Armando Aretas x Original Female Character

Fandom: Bad Boys Movies

Prompt: Mike gets a couple visits, Shay has some news and Armando makes a decision.

Warnings⚠️: Cussing, Mentions of bad parental relationships, uh.... I think that's it for this one.

Mike Lowrey was no stranger to being called into back rooms for an off the books meeting. What was unusual was the CBI agent waiting for him when last time he checked none of the cases he had been part of lately had anything to warrant federal attention. Well, besides the one with his son but he had been cleared almost a full year ago now and Julie had corroborated his story. Nah, this was something new.

“Officer Lowrey, I’m Agent Garrett with the California Bureau of Investigations. Please have a seat.” She was standing at her full height on the other side of the table while gesturing to one of two chairs in the room, the only one near him. He saw straight through her bullshit tactics to make him feel like she was in charge and had the upper hand.

“It’s Detective Lowrey and think I’ll stand. Now why don’t you cut the shit and tell me what the hell you want.” Her jaw tensed and he just barely managed to hold back a smirk. She wouldn’t get what she wanted by using the same perp tricks he had been using when she was still in diapers. You can’t bullshit the bullshitter.

Coming clean, she began, “I’ve been put in charge of running a task force out in LA, similar to your AMMO squad here. Our goal is to find and stop cartel drug from entering the country, maybe stop a few murders while we’re at it.”

So this was about Armando, just more recently than he thought. Damn son of his was definitely payback for the hell he raised when he was younger. If he was back on his shit, he might not be able to help him this time.

“Sounds like a good idea. I wish you luck,” he stated, feigning ignorance as to what this was really about.

“Your son Armando Aretas has many connections on the west coast that could be useful. Figured I could use him to knock down some of my open cases.”

She clearly had found out their connection, but he still wasn’t sure what she wanted from him. “I don’t know if you’ve been watching the news lately, but my son isn’t here in Miami. He’s been on the run for the better part of a year. I don’t know where he is.”

“You’re his father.” Agent Garrett takes the chair on her side of the table. “If anybody could find him, it’d be you. You’d know where to look right?” The flattery, the subtle leading questions to confirm what she believed and the sitting gave her away.

She was desperate.

If he had to guess, those open case files were all big cases that had her boss breathing down her neck. She’d probably been given an ultimatum with her job on the line and now she was desperate to do anything that would get her back on top, including working with a wanted man.

Mike sat. “What are the terms?”

“Terms?”

“What does Armando get in exchange for helping you?”

She looked at him in disbelief. “Terms are you don’t go to prison for aiding and abetting a murderer and he doesn’t get a bullet in his head immediately. Don’t know if you know this but cops aren’t a big hit in prison and I’m betting that’s especially true for you.”

“Don’t fucking insult me, please. Aiding and abetting implies I know where he is and I’m actively helping him. I’ve already told you I don’t know where he is. But like you said I’m your best shot at finding him. I’m also your best chance at not getting your men killed and losing him again. I’m not doing this shit without some assurances on his end. So I’ll ask again. What does he get for helping you?”

She shook her head. “You know when I came up with this whole thing, I did my my research on you. Figured I should know who I was getting into bed with. Everything I read told me you were one hell of a cop, always got your guy and made Miami just that much safer. Are you, this great cop, really going to bat for a murderer like him?”

That was where her approach was faulty. She was trying to appeal to his cop side, but he was a father first. “No, I, a father, am protecting my son.”

“I can offer him protective custody, knock some time off his sentence depending on how fruitful his tips are.” She offered lightly.

Too lightly. This was her throwaway offer, the one she knew was shit but was hoping he’d take anyway. So he called her bluff.

“He won’t come in for that. He had that deal with me already. All the shit that went down last year? The bodies dropped had to be put on someone and he got ‘em since he was a convicted felon, one that was alive and a part of the mess. Not to mention he ran off and became a fugitive. He’s looking at almost double what his sentence was when I arrested him. You’ll have to do better.”

Agent Garrett seemed to be debating with herself. She let out a heavy breath,”I’ve been authorized to grant him a special deal.”

Now they were getting somewhere.

“What kind of deal?”

“The kind that puts my ass on the line.”

Something about this whole interaction was bugging him. “Tell me something. Why are you willing to put your badge on the line for someone you clearly can’t stand?”

“I don’t trust Aretas. But this isn’t about me. Its about making my city safer. His intel could be the key to shutting down major operations. He has connections everywhere, and that’s what I care about. I’m not putting myself on the line for him, I’m doing it for my city.”

“You sure you’re not doing it for your bosses? They up yo ass about getting shit done?”

“I proposed using Aretas. They were against it. Said we were cleaning up just fine but I’m tired of cleaning up after the fact and only getting low level dealers. I want to cut this thing off at the head.”

“At the end of the day that’s my son. I need to know that somebody has his back. Why should I trust that that’s you?”

“Like I said this is my proposal. My bosses made it clear that if he fails I fail. He gives me the wrong intel, he leads us astray, he turns on us, I’m fired. I’m just as invested in his success because I have something to lose too.”

“What’s the offer?”

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

“Hi, I’m looking for Mike Lowrey?” Shay swallowed down the feeling of nausea, hoping it was just the nerves making her feel this way.

“He’s not in at the moment, but I’m his wife Christine. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Shay hesitates. Could she do anything? Hell she wasn’t sure what this Mike Lowrey could do for her either. She flew all the way to Miami, and for what? Some detective Armando had left the name of in case she needed help? This was a bad idea. She knew he was a cop, and after looking him up a supposedly good one, but how could she trust him when he socialized with a murderer? Ignoring her own dalliances with the man, she could only think about the fact that Detective Mike Lowrey had sworn to arrest people like Armando, not be someone they trusted.

She felt overwhelmed for the millionth time in the past month and a half and was debating just leaving when Christine offered, “why don’t you come in? Mike should be home soon and you can wait inside for him instead of in the heat.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the heat, Christine's sweet voice coupled with the endearing British accent or the way her face screamed warmth, but she found herself saying, “yeah. Yeah okay.”

Christine opened the door wider for her to enter and Shay marveled at the inside of the house as much as she had the outside. This guy was definitely a dirty cop. There was no way he was able to afford this on a detective’s salary. What the hell was she getting herself into?

“Please have a seat,” she gestured towards the couch. It looked like it was more for the aesthetic than actual use but she was pleasantly surprised to find it very comfortable. “Would you like something to drink? I have water and that disgusting stuff my husband calls sweet tea,” Christine joked.

“Water is fine,” she replied with a smile. Shay watched as Christine stepped past a wall into what she assumes was the kitchen. The creeping sensation of nausea hit her once more. Digging in her purse and finding a ginger chew, she didn’t see Christine come back in the room with a bottle of water. Almost instantaneously she felt relief, so maybe it was all psychosomatic. Just her nerves going haywire.

“How far along are you?” Shay startled at the question.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.

“It’s okay. What makes you think I’m pregnant?”

“I saw the chew and just assumed.”

She didn’t believe that for a second. “Some assumption based off just a ginger chew. What if I just like them?”

“Honestly the chew was just the cherry on top for my assumption. You hold yourself the same way my sister held herself when she was pregnant for the first time. A bit unsure, scared definitely, but ready for war all the same.”

Well, damn. She didn’t know she gave off that much with just how she stood.

Ignoring how unexpectedly open she felt, she answered Christine’s question from before.“Thirteen weeks.” Suddenly Shay realized how this could look, a random pregnant woman showing up looking for her husband and not telling her what she wants, so she quickly explained. “It’s not your husband’s!”

Christine laughed brightly, “Oh darling the thought never crossed my mind. Mike may have once been that guy, but he’s not anymore. He’s a good man.” Shay kept her doubts to herself.

“Christine? Who’s car is that out front?” The man she assumed to be Mike Lowrey was juggling a duffle bag and struggling to get his keys out of the door, not once looking in their direction.

Smirking like it was a game, Christine replied, “It’s a rental.”

“Why do we need a rental?” He finally looked up, noticing Shay in the room. She could see his guard go right back up.

“Mike, this is Shay. She was hoping to speak with you,” his wife explained to him.

“Do I know you?” He was blunt but not unkind with his words, something she hoped would continue in their conversation.

“Mike!” Christine admonished before turning to Shay with, “Please, excuse Mike. He can bring his interrogation tactics into other parts of his life sometimes.”

“It’s okay. If a random woman showed up saying she needed to speak to me, I’d probably question it too.” She was hoping her understanding would get her some traction and not immediately thrown out when he found out why she was here.

Mike still held caution in his face. “So…?” He left the obvious question unspoken, wondering who she was and why she was here in his home.

Shay paused. She wasn’t sure how to bring it up and didn’t want to say anything in front of his wife in case she truly had no clue her husband was a dirty cop. She may have been desperate enough to find this guy, but she wasn’t going to be the one to ruin this poor woman’s marriage.

Luckily Christine picked up on her reluctance to speak in front of an audience and excused herself. “I’m going to head upstairs for a moment, give you two some time to talk.”

While Shay relaxed, Mike tensed. Once Christine was gone, he questioned her. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

“I was told if I ever needed anything, I should find you.”

Mike carefully focused his attention on sitting his duffle near the armchair, going to take a seat himself. He might not be looking directly at her anymore, but she knew all of his attention was on her as he spoke. “Who the fuck told you that? Better yet, why my house? Why not meet me in the station?”

Ignoring the second question, she replied, “Armando Aretas.”

Mike’s head snapped back to her. She was almost concerned for his neck with how fast he moved.

Continuing at his silence she said, “I figured you wouldn’t want to discuss him at work.”

“What about him?”

“He was in LA a few months ago.”

He first whispered to himself, “Dumbass don’t listen.” Then he spoke louder, clearly to her this time, “What does this have to do with you and why you’re here?”

She wasn’t sure where to start. How does one tell a dirty cop working for one’s murderer baby daddy that you need him to tell said baby daddy you were pregnant? “We were…together. I’m pregnant now.” She hoped he would catch on without her spelling it out but he didn’t.

Instead, Mike blinked. “What?” A million unidentifiable emotions ran over his face before he carefully shut it down, facing her with no emotion at all now.

“I am with child, in the family way, carrying a bun in the oven, whatever you want to call it.” There was still no response from him so she continued her rant, “look I’m not asking for him to come back or pay for anything. I’m fully prepared to take care of this kid myself, but not even trying to tell him was weighing on my conscience. So I figured if I found you like he said, you could pass on the message for me. I just need to be able to know I did everything I could to let him know.”

She had prepared for a lot of responses to her plea. Anger on Armando’s behalf, a dismissal, hell even laughter at her audacity, but his next words were ones she somehow missed in her spiral. “I’m not in contact with him.”

Shay tried not to be hurt at his response, not for herself, but for her baby. Okay, well a little bit for herself. She was in love with the man-yes, still- and knowing he truly didn’t leave a way to contact him again crushed the little bit of hope his note had left behind. Why would he send her to Mike if it wasn’t a way to get in touch with him? “So why would he tell me to find you?”

A pause.

“Armando’s my son.”

The statement was so far from what she was expecting to hear that she paused. “Wait so you don’t…you don’t work for him? With him? Whatever.”

Mike laughed loudly, “nah, I don’t work in that world. I stand by the badge.”

“So how did he…?” She trailed off, confused.

“Look our situation is…complicated, but if he sent you in my direction I’m gonna help you in any way I can. I mean, I’d love to get to know you and be in my grandchild’s life if you’ll let me.” His words were reminiscent of the night she had asked Armando about his family. He too had called his relationship with his father complicated.

Despite the unknown of it all, his offer was partly the reason she had found Mike. A family for her child, something she never really had. “Yeah. Yeah I’d like that.” It may not be exactly what she was looking for, but she would take what she could get. At least her baby would have some connection to their father’s side of the family. But she still had a question, one that had no answer now that her assumptions were corrected.

“So if you aren’t dirty, how do you afford living like this?”

Mike let out a laugh louder than the one from before. “I’m a trust fund kid. Never really had to work but all I’ve ever wanted was to be a cop.”

“Sounds like one hell of a trust fund,” she scoffed.

Turning serious he impressed, “One that continues to grow from a few investments made along the way. This kid will have that same freedom. They’ll be able to do whatever they want in life and never have to worry about money.”

That statement alone almost made her cry. She didn’t have much growing up, wondering if she and her mother would even be able to eat everyday. When she had found out she was pregnant, despite making more money than her mother did she found herself worrying her child would have those same experiences.

She may not have Armando, a partner she’d hoped to have, but he had made sure she had everything she needed.

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Habitual but flexible.

That was Armando’s motto. Habitual in the precautions he took but flexible enough everywhere else to not create patterns. Patterns were how you got caught, and Armando refused to be put in another cage. He always double checked his locks when he left his place, checked his surroundings before leaving and arriving at his place so as not to run into his neighbors. The less people who could identify him the better.

Which is why seeing his door wide open as he turned onto his street was so unsettling.

Normally he would just leave town, dump this alias and start over with another elsewhere, but there were a few things he didn’t want to part with. Upon his first return to Mexico, he had managed to find his mother’s emergency stash and in it was a photo of the two of them before he was forced out of the prison when he turned six. Despite his conflicted feelings on his mother’s choices and the lies she told him, he still loved her and this was all he had left of her.

If she were around she’d chastise his sentimentality.

He also had a letter his father had written him when he left Miami that he kept because even with the complexity of their relationship, he still wished he’d had the opportunity to get to know him. He wished he could have done things differently. That letter may be his only chance to know his father, even a little bit.

The last thing was a photo of Shay. He had taken it one morning before he left on a polaroid camera she had lying around. The sun had been rising and he remembered wishing what they had could be real, that he could stay in bed and wake up with her instead of having to run out and lie all the time. It was the only thing he had left of the only relationship he’d ever have again.

So he weighed his options. Either he went in and fought whoever was there, grabbed his things and hopefully made it out in time to not get caught, or he left now and hoped whoever it was left without calling for backup so he could get his things before leaving town. He either risked his freedom or he risked losing the only items that reminded him of his humanity forever.

He pulled his gun and carefully made his way into the apartment he’d called home for a couple weeks.

“Don’t shoot, it’s just me.”

Armando relaxed, but kept his gun in his hand. “What are you doing here Detective?” His tone was snippy, as though his father speaking to him was a bother. He knew that wasn’t true, but it was like he couldn’t help the animosity that came out when he spoke to his father. No matter how much he’d love to try with the man, he’d just get so angry about it all that it came out confrontational.

“What? A man can’t see his son?” Mike didn’t rise to the obvious bait of his tone, instead trying to lighten the mood with a tease.

Armando simply raised an eyebrow at the deflection. “Not when that man is a decorated detective and his son is a fugitive,” he coldly stated. He needed to know what Mike wanted so he could get on with his life. Who knows how many eyes are on the man, he was risking Armando’s freedom, not that he seemed to care. Irritated at the lack of concern for him, he accused, “you risked the badge once just to let me go, you won’t risk it again, not even for me. It means too much to you.” I don’t mean enough to you went unsaid but not unheard.

“Armando I’d risk everything for you.” The fight left Mike, and he sighed, finding a seat on the edge of the bed. “You’re my son and I know I’m not the best at showing it, but that shit means something to me. Our relationship means something to me. I didn’t have the best relationship with my father so I told myself I wouldn’t have kids cause I didn’t want to repeat the cycle. But then I found out about you. And despite the fact that circumstances made it so it isn’t easy, I still don’t want the cycle to be repeated. I love you man. I’ll do whatever you need me to, to prove that to you. Including walking away if you say no to my proposal.”

There it was. The real reason he was here now, he needed something like always. Armando put his gun away in exasperation. He was so tired of just being used that he couldn’t help but get a jab in. “Whatever man. This don’t mean shit to you. It’s all transactional for you, I’m good enough to help you get what you want and that’s why you come around. So what is it this time?”

“Is that what you think? That I don’t care about you?” What the hell else was he supposed to think?

“If you did, you would have come to see me in prison without needing my help on a case.” He argued before quietly following up with, “I would have been enough of a reason to visit.” He hated when this stupid hurt boy routine flared up. He looked weak, like una puta.

Mike stood and stepped close to Armando. Refusing to back down, Armando met his stare head on, ignoring the way his throat was getting tight and tears were pooling in his eyes. “Armando I never needed you on those cases. I knew that if I could get intel from you and put you down on paper, it would help you out. I was trying to help.” He blinked and a single tear made its way down his face. It was too much now and he had to look away.

Mike placed a hand on his shoulder, continuing, “I love you. Nothing is more real than that. If I had known you would take my help as me using you, I never would’ve asked for your help.”

Facing his father once more, Armando spoke lowly, “Si lo hubieras sabido, ¿te habría importado?” He didn’t explain what he meant, knowing his father understood what he was asking.

“Nada me hubiera importado más.” Mike asserted.

He nodded, finally having an answer to the question that had been burning inside him. He focused on the reason Mike was in front of him, not the emotions his answer stirred in him. “What’s the proposal?” He asked much more calmly this time around.

“LAPD is starting up a team like AMMO. They were hoping to recruit you to be a part of it, use your knowledge to help stop cartel drugs from entering the states.”

“And go back in a cage? No I’m good.” He shook his head, a clear no coming from him.

“You wouldn’t be arrested again, you’d be put up in an apartment. Free to walk the city after an initial probationary period of just work and home. After that, there would be twenty-four hour surveillance, random drug tests and check-ins. Eventually you would become a private citizen.”

It sounded like a trap. “If I don’t give them what they want I get arrested right?”

“Yeah, but I have all the faith you’ll be great at it. Plus I made sure it was as ironclad for you as possible.”

“Why would I agree to this? Sounds like a lot could go wrong and land me back in prison. If that happens I’m never getting out again.”

“You aren’t the killer your mother made you into. You only did any of it because she fueled you with rage and ideas of revenge before she pointed you at a target. If you were really a killer, you would’ve killed me anyway. You live by a code, and only do what’s necessary. No more, no less.”

Sometimes when he was feeling really low he’d think about what his life would have been like if he’d had a normal life. Would he have chosen violence anyway? He’d like to think he’d hav e chosen to protect. Maybe be a firefighter or an EMT cause he was still an adrenaline junkie, but maybe he wouldn’t have to hurt anybody. If his father was saying the same thing he thought, then maybe he could believe it to be true. Before he could think on it, his father spoke once more, shifting his whole world.

“Besides, Shay’s pregnant. We not giving another generation of Lowrey these bullshit daddy issues.”

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Six Months Later

“Marcus we ain’t got time for that shit.”

“I just asked the man a question!”

“No, you used the question as a cover to try and buy some damn skittles.”

“Oh so now you the skittle police? I thought we worked narcotics?”

“Yo ass ain’t supposed to have that shit and you know it. Don’t try to make it out like I’m the one that’s going overboard.”

“Aye Mike what would they call the skittle department? The rainbow division? Don’t worry everybody! Mike Lowry is working the rainbow!”

“That’s homophobic.”

“It’s the slogan! What else would it be called Mike?”

“Why the fuck are you here?”

“Man fuck you-“

“Your presence really wasn’t needed-“

“I’m just trying to be a good friend-“

“This is a moment for my family-“

“And now I’m not family to you?!”

“You called my family fucked up remember?”

“Yo son was tryna kill us and his mama was gonna let us burn in a fire!”

“Are you pendejos done?”

“Mike! That mean assholes right?”

“Yeah he just called us assholes. But Imma let it slide cause he got to be high on that new father shit to call me an asshole.”

“Nah I just think he don’t respect you. That’s what you get for not raising him. My boys would never.”

“Marcus!”

Shay knew this could devolve again if she didn’t get their attention. “Guys! Do you want to meet her?”

The men focused their attention on the baby Shay was holding against her chest. Marcus visibly melted at the sight, Mike simply softening his shoulders with a small smile.

Armando joined Shay, leaning on the bed using a finger to trace down their daughter’s arm. When he spoke, he kept his eyes on his daughter. “This is Amada Rose Lowrey.”

“Lowrey?”Mike coughed.

Armando shrugged. “I wasn’t actually an Aretas, I was supposed to be a Lowrey. Figured she and I could claim our real family name.”

Mike nodded. “That’s cool man. Real cool,” he choked out.

“Awe Mike,” Marcus cried.

“Mm-mm Marcus. Stop it right now.”

“But Mike he’s taking your last name!”

Ignoring his bumbling partner, Mike walks over to Shay, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “How you doing Mama?”

“Extremely sore, but happy.”

“Well you did good, she’s beautiful.”

“You wanna hold her?”

Knowing his father’s aversion to holding babies, he goads hims, “Yeah Papa, wanna hold her?”

Surprising them all, he said, “You know what? I will.”

Shay handed her daughter over to Mike, making sure he supported her head correctly.

Armando joined Shay on the bed and wrapped her in his arms now that she wasn’t holding the baby. He simply watched his father holding and whispering to his baby girl with fond eyes, knowing his daughter would know nothing but love and presence from the man. They would have a real relationship right from the start. He and Mike themselves had been working on things, talking through the lies and anger and getting to a better place.

“How’s work? They give you any time off?” Marcus asked him.

In the end there hadn’t been a choice. He was going to be present in his child’s life, no matter what and sneaking into LA would just get riskier every time he did it. If he didn’t get caught just trying to get to his family, he would’ve gotten caught because if how much he would’ve been there to see them. And he’d be damned if he was raising his child from behind bars so he took Agent Garrett up on her offer.

He turned to face his uncle, replying, “Good, we wrapped a case a day before Shay went into labor. I’ll have about a couple weeks at home with the girls before I’m expected back.”

It had somewhat surprised him how seriously Marcus had taken to being his uncle. The man was supportive of his new role with the LAPD and called almost as often as his father did, checking in and making sure he was being safe. Seeing him at the hospital now wasn’t a shock at all.

“I’m just glad they gave him any time at all,” Shay interrupted. As his employment with the LAPD wasn’t under normal circumstances, he wasn’t sure if they’d grant him time at home with his girls. Agent Garrett had stuck her neck out for him once again and gotten him twelve days exactly.

Armando leaned down and kissed her, forever grateful for the woman who stood by his side despite his past. She had lost a couple friends when they found out who he was, the ones that stayed had definitely judged her and never truly came around to him as a person. She never wavered though, taking it all with grace and holding his hand as they planed for their future. He couldn’t wait to ask her to marry him.

Amada let out a cry, disrupting his internal debate on the pros and cons of asking her right that moment. He knew it probably meant she was hungry again, so he shifted his hold on Shay so she could get the b baby again and feed her.

“I think that’s a cry for mommy,” Mike chimed as he passed the baby back.

“Yeah Mike you ain’t got the right equipment,” Marcus tossed out.

Mike turned to Marcus incredulously. “Now why would you say some dumb shit like that?”

“You don’t!”

Armando turned his attention from the bickering men, whispering to his little family, “Here they go.”

Honestly, though? He wouldn’t trade his family for nothing.

A/N: Don't forget to leave a comment or reblog/like! What did we think? I have a few other ideas in mind for Armando but I'm not sure how they'll play out, so I'm CAUTIOUSLY open to prompt from you guys for drabbles. Please keep in mind that I can't do smut.😅

Translations:

Una Puta - A bitch

Si lo hubieras sabido, ¿te habría importado? - If you had known, would you have cared?

Nada me hubiera importado más. -Nothing would have mattered to me more.

Pendejos - Assholes

Taglist:

@yeahnohoneybye @bootlegroach @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful

#armando aretas #Armando x ofc #Armando aretas x ofc #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #original female character #christine lowrey #fan fiction #minors dni #Jacob scipio #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life

145 notes · View notes

lyubovsdiary · 19 days ago

Note

Hi, can u do Armando x Vampire Reader(Lucy). Where, Armando, Mike, and Marcus were on a mission and they got captured and held hostage. Around 30 minutes, Mike and Marcus were trying to figure out a plan while Armando was listening till they heard screaming outside and then more screaming inside. The shots fired down and then the door was busted with great strength. Few men were guarding Marcus, Mike, and Armando. Then Lucy killed the first two by biting and breaking till the last one got his heart ripped out. Marcus and Mike were screaming but Armando was smiling little bit till it revealed Lucy. She said hey guys. Her mouth was all bloody and she got them out. In the end, Armando kissed her like crazy.

yeah ofc!!

Monster

a.aretas x vampire!reader

summary: due to a mission gone wrong, armando’s girlfriend has to come rescue her lover, his father and his father’s partner. what better time to meet his family?

warnings: violence, blood, graphic killing

a/n: i hope i could do your request justice!! i had some issues capturing mike and marcus’ humour and the way they talk, so i hope it resembles them at least somewhat. the smell problem marcus has with dead bodies is actually canon!! it’s mentioned in the first movie. also it’s my first time writing a supernatural reader, but i tried my best. the 5 eps i watched of the vampire diaries really paid off

“I thought when I joined las fuerzas del orden, shit like this wouldn’t happen no more,” Armando said while looking pointedly at Mike.

Said man just looked at him incredulously. “That’s too damn bad then. I’m gon’ call the guys over real quick and tell them to let us go because my bitchass son didn’t think policemen ever got kidnapped. Don’t piss me off,” Mike replied. This wasn’t how the day was supposed to go and Armando knew that damn well. He didn’t need to rub it in.

“Nah Mike, you can’t talk to yo son like that. What kinda role model are you gon’ be for him?” Marcus decided to pitch in.

“Now I know you ain’t tryna give me tips on raising my son, Marcus. Besides, what bullshit advice is that? He’s a grown ass man now, he has no role models,” Mike complained.

While the two continued to argue, Armando inspected his surroundings. The chair he was tied to was made of metal, so he couldn’t break it and have his hands and feet free. The room they were in was dimly lit and the walls were bare, if not for the grime and dirt sticking to them and the floor. In the nearest angle there seemed to be badly cleaned up blood and a fingernail. This really wasn’t what Armando expected would happen.

When he was briefed earlier today about the mission’s details together with the rest of the AMMO team, it had seemed simple enough. Infiltrate this new gang’s base, collect as much information as possible and then knock out and arrest everyone they could find. They were supposed to be quiet and sneaky to not alarm the gang’s members and make them run.

But things had not gone to plan. As soon as Armando, Mike and Marcus entered the bulding, they had been drugged with some kind of substance which made them pass out. Next thing Armando knew, he was tied to a chair next to the two idiots who were still talking next to him. He knew that every connection he had to the AMMO team had been ripped out and taken by their captors. But they hadn’t accounted for one thing: You.

Now it was just a matter of time before you got him out of here. Armando would just have to be patient and trust you.

In this moment he decided to listen in on the conversation currently held between the other two men in the room.

“I’m telling you Mike, if you make yourself sweat enough, you’ll be out of these ropes in no time,” Marcus insisted.

“Let’s see it then. C’mon, show me how the hell that’s supposed to work. And even if you did somehow succeed, what would you do after that? You ain’t got weapons, or a plan of what the building looks like. How many people are even in here?” Mike ridiculed. He knew damn well Marcus had no idea, ‘cause he never listened when team meetings were had. 25 years with his partner had given him enough experience to be sure of that.

“We can figure that out later, man. The first step is to get out of these ropes. See how my hand is moving already? I’m almost free Mike, you just wait and see how my genius gets us out of this place,” Marcus assured, wrists barely moving an inch.

Armando then decided to stop listening to them to protect his common sense and his peace. Their plan certainly wasn’t the best he’d ever heard of, but he had done much stupider and more reckless things, so he didn’t judge too much.

Suddenly the conversation between the two men was interrupted by loud screaming far away. Though that was cut off by a sickening ‘crack’. Someone started to yell something about “Shoot her! Shoot her now, you idiot!” but more screaming picked up and even more nauseating sounds of bones breaking, flesh tearing and knives meeting flesh could be heard.

Soon one couldn’t distinguish between the different sounds and they were combined to a vile symphony of chaos.

“What the fuck is happening out there?” Mike questioned, looking at the door like it might explode at any given moment. Marcus wasn’t looking too well either, fearing this may be the day a mission proved too much for him and his partner to handle.

Meanwhile, a small smile had formed on Armando’s lips. His saviour was coming.

You didn’t often kill people, moreover choosing to steal blood bags from the hospital you worked at and rarely harming a human. When Armando was in danger though, it was a completely different story. No one who dared lay a finger on him stayed alive long enough to regret ever touching the one person you loved more than anything.

Armando rarely used that to his advantage, usually using his own skills to defend himself if needed, but in situations like these, it was very useful to have a girlfriend who could hear your heartbeat a hundred miles away. You also tended to stay in the area of their mission, just as an extra precaution.

The sounds of destruction were coming closer and closer and Mike was slowly starting to panick too. Whatever was coming wasn’t anything good, and it seemed like it was coming for them next. He didn’t want to die here. He also didn’t want Marcus and his son to die here next to him due to some kind of psychopath targeting the wrong gang at the wrong time.

But he guessed wishes didn’t always come true.

The door was busted down, revealing a person biting into the neck of what seemed to be a gangster guarding the three men. Another gangster tried to punch the figure in the face, but his shoulder was quickly dislocated and his neck was bitten into as well. Dropping to the floor next to his companion shortly after, the men’s attention now focused solely on the figure they couldn’t see properly before.

You lifted your head and gave them perfect view of your fangs glistening with blood in the light streaming in from the outside. The red liquid was dripping down your chin, staining your clothes and the ground beneath you. Your pupils were dilated, high off the rush fresh blood granted you. A knife was sitting in your hand, stained in the crimson colour you loved so much. You looked like the monsters mothers warned their young children about and fathers looked under beds and in closets for.

Marcus couldn’t contain a terrified shriek, when out of nowhere another gangster threw herself at you, trying to stab you with a dagger she had hidden in her shoe. Deciding you had had enough, your hand reached inside her chest, and returned with her still beating heart sitting perfectly on it.

The girl looked at her heart and the hole in her chest with big, terror-filled eyes. She couldn’t even whimper before slumping down the nearest wall and losing her life.

Throwing her heart next to her lifeless body, you stepped over her, turning to look at the three men held captive.

“Hey guys. Need some help?” you asked evenly, scanning the faces until you found who you were looking for. Crouching down next to him, you inspected his face, arms, and any visible part of him to see if you could make out any injuries.

“Are you okay? Did those bastards hurt you? I swear I’ll find a way to bring them back to life just to kill them more painfully this time around,” you muttered with a tight voice while undoing the ropes wrapped around Armando’s wrists and ankles.

“No, mama, estoy bien. They didn’t get a chance to, because mi hermosa novia was too quick for them to even think about it,” the smooth man praised you, knowing it always made you feel better. Praise was something you loved to hear, especially coming from him.

While the two of you were having your sweet moment, Marcus and Mike were having trouble comprehending what exactly had just happened. In all the years they had worked together they had never been quiet for as long as they were now. Their speechlessnes was partly due to the fact that Armando seemed to know you very well and partly due to the mess you had left behind.

The brutality of the deaths of the gangsters shocked the two detectives. They had seen a lot in their careers, but this was a whole new level of freak that they didn’t know how to deal with. Especially Marcus had to breathe through his mouth, because the stench was deadly. The smell of corpses wasn’t something that ever got easier to smell, even after more than 25 years on the force.

After finally freeing Armando, the two of you went over to his two teammates to free them from their ropes too. Armando went to his father and you went to Marcus.

“Nah, don’t you touch me! I have a wife and kids! If you drink my blood or whatever you and your father Dracula do, she’s gonna kill you, I swear!” Marcus shouted, trying to lean away as far as possible from you.

“Relax, I won’t hurt you,” you promised, having to suppress your laughter at his comment. You had to admit it wasn’t as bad as what others have said when they found out what you were. Granted, they usually didn’t have time to say anything much, because the next thing they saw after your fangs was either heaven or hell, but still.

Freeing the detectives as well, the four of you started to make your way out of the bulding, with Mike leading the way, Marcus watching his six and Armando and you following behind them.

Before stepping into the hallway though, Armando grabbed your arm and spun you around to face him. After looking in your eyes for one magnetic moment, he leaned down and kissed you passionately. Borderline making out with you next to the people you had killed for him. The two of you were certainly meant to find each other, since neither of you minded.

Translations:

las fuerzas del orden - the law enforcement

estoy bien - I’m fine

mi hermosa novia - my beautiful girlfriend

#armando aretas #armando lowrey #armando armas #armando x you #armando x reader #armando aretas x you #armando aretas x reader #armando x f!reader #armando x female reader #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life #bad boys #vampire au #lyubovvwrites #lyubovsdiary

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cloveroctobers · 4 days ago

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NO STRESS — Armando Aretas [Fall Crumbles] 🤎

A/N: Going back to my roots of my first official drop on this man, which was a angsty-based Armando piece. It’s a kinda short thing and what I do best! Believe me I’m not pushing for a sad girl autumn by any means and I don’t think this is that?

WARNINGS: Language! + Moving onto bigger things? You tell me. Definitely inspired by current events but this won’t be too deep on that, especially if you’re looking for a break, yet I always find Novembers to be full of grievances but still looking at the positives towards the end of the month and thanks to this album dropping during this time…also helped inspired these chapters I’ve been writing.

SYNOPSIS: Set some time in the future in which every state in the U.S. solely has a president now and Armando Aretas holds that title. What happens when your easy going or dysfunctional? nature becomes too much after Armando’s new actions hits headlines?

ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ

“Mami, don’t piss me off.” Armando spews at you, eyes locked on you from the moment you walked through the doors of your shared palace.

The way you sauntered along the marble floor, natural sway in your hips, with a strut in your step as your heels clacked along the texture, and your jacket slightly hung off your shoulders as you made your way over to the grand table, implied you were onto something lethal.

You oozed luxury as you took your seat so elegantly at the opposite head of the table, fixing your Prada shades back along your fresh silk press, all while beaming to your right, Mike’s hand going out to grab yours with a smile, as you almost pressed your glossed lips to your other fingertips to silently kiss at him in greeting.

One of your young servers—named Romil—you did the simple task of learning all of your employees names, immediately came to your left, your fizzy speciality already awaited for you in a flute glass, which you plucked into your grasp and always thanked your workers with a warm smile, “Thank you, Rom.”

He quickly sent a smile your way with a dip of his head before moving to stand away from the table in one of the corners. The servers were always supposed to give those at the dinner table space, waiting hand and foot on you. At times you found it ridiculous, knowing you can do these basic tasks on your own, (which you often did) especially on holidays when they should be off with their own loved ones, but you always made it a oath that they were included on gifts every year.

As the First Lady of Miami (Technically it was Florida but “Miami” just sounded better, especially since that’s where you all resided), it was not in your nature to ever treat anyone as less then. You were not that type of bitch, Lady of Georgia, the nasty shady Southern Belle, gratefully held that title.

A loud clearing of a throat and a side of a fist hitting the table, made the utensils on the table jump, and eyes turn to Armando, except for you who took your time facing your husband as you swallowed the Prosecco.

“Excuse me? Did you hear what I said?” Armando hissed.

Your smile could make anyone weak in the knees but Armando looked right past that since you were irking his nerves, “Hello to you too, baby. And No, I didn’t. What’s wrong?”

The way Armando’s eyes went into slits while resting his elbows on the table and pressed his clasped hands to his lips for a moment made his father, Mike Lowrey mumble to himself, “Oh shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Armando repeated, “Where were you huh? You weren’t there at the press meeting—

With a dramatic sigh you interrupted as you picked up a utensil to stab into the kale salad, “You mean the press meeting where they slaughtered you for the fuck shit you’ve been pulling? Why would I need to be there for that?”

Armando raised his brows, “You’re my lady, did you forget? You’re supposed to be beside me whenever I speak to the public, why are you acting brand new?”

Covering your mouth as you let out some laughter, you finished eating your portion of an appetizer, “That’s the thing, I’ve been by your side and when I don’t want to? I won’t be. I had better things to do today. It’s that simple.”

Armando’s eyes went to everyone else at the table, to make sure that he wasn’t hearing things. It shouldn’t be a shock to him, neither of you two were strictly by the book and marched to your own drums, just ask the people of the state who were not a fan of you two, they automatically felt like Armando was and still is a crook. Then there were those who felt like you could do better.

The opinion of sheep in some cases, right?

He was just a businessman that got shit done.

Like it or not.

“A First Lady’s obligiation is to be involved in social affairs. That’s just one of many.” Armando states which makes you tilt your head to the side, laughing once more.

He should be the last one preaching to you.

“Sure and my obligation today was to prioritize self care.” You inhale as you return back to your plate of salad, “I’m glad that I don’t have to beg for your attention, since you apparently miss me so much that you care more about how the public is labeling you. That’s something you should have thought about before you picked the streets over your queen, no?”

Armando immediately knew what you were getting at. It was tossed at him by one of the journalists who outed that the woman Armando was seen spending many outings with behind your back, had been talking about their quality times together for the right price. Fresh off the press, it was something you were aware of at 2 this morning which was sadly confirmed by Dorn over the phone before it hit news.

You had no issue collecting your things around 5 in the morning, when you could have slapped Armando awake but you couldn’t bring yourself to be blind sided. It was suspected every time Armando extended his trips in Key West. You can’t fix stupid and choices have consequences. This has all come to a hilt and this is exactly what the people wanted, to see you upset so why bother trying to save face when you already knew the truth?

“Maybe we should let you two have this conversation in private?” Theresa, Marcus’ wife speaks up, already placing her handkerchief on the table.

Shrugging your shoulders you say, “We’re all a family here right? What happens in the palace stays in the palace. Except…not with what’s her name? Dinah. Thee aspiring photo journalist who comes from a lineage of racist assassins…I know her family is having a field day with this one. How many nights did you let her stay in one of these rooms or better yet, our bed?”

“It was never our bed.” Armando snaps, making Marcus widened his eyes, and lightly scratch at his ear at what his new nephew let slip through his lips.

This time you cackled with your head thrown back.

Armando glared at you, “I don’t know what you’re laughing at because ain’t shit funny.”

Wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, you nod in agreement as you stared over at your husband in the dim dining hall, “You’re right. It’s hilarious because I just realized I can’t be bothered anymore.”

This is what November’s are for. Saying no to things that no longer have use to you. Getting rid of things to allow the growth to start all over again.

So why was this man playing in your face?

It did sting because it felt like your time was wasted, with a man that should have loved you better. If he wanted to play around, he should have just said that instead of trying to make you out to be a fool. Shouldn’t have even married you if he was going to later second guess your time together. Maybe that wasn’t Armando’s intentions but you just didn’t have the energy to do too much back and forth tonight.

The both of you got into this position of power because of Armando’s mother mainly. Isabel and her husband, Benito—although Mexico City natives—had strong ties to Miami but with their power was also handed down to Armando. It turns out that this was what they were training Armando so hard for as a kid. It was an ugly business, gritty and brutal with the way it turned out but with the way the government was forever changing? Thanks to Benito who had connections with the (dirty) American government, Armando was next in line regardless and knew if he didn’t take his shot, he would miss out on this big opportunity and he wanted nothing more than to take you right with him. Once upon a time, Armando couldn’t picture anyone else ruling this state with him.

Power can make you do questionable things and Armando unfortunately fell into that.

“What does that mean?” Armando quizzed.

“It’s means you’re not as calculated as you think you are,” you pointed the fork in his direction, “And I’m going to move on. Consider this a lesson learned.”

Armando tightened his jaw at your words, “I should have known that you’ve been working against me.”

“No, no. Don’t try and spin this.” You express, “I’m the only one that gets to point fingers. I loved you through your flaws, which is why I don’t love you any less after you’ve been shitting where you shouldn’t eat. You don’t know who to trust and I’m your wife. We’re supposed to be some sort of a union but I guess we’re not. Doesn’t that sound problematic to you?”

Armando scoffed as he let his back rest against the extravagant chair, “What’s problematic is you secretly plotting against me.”

Kelly can’t help but to step in, although Dorn attempts to firmly squeeze her thigh underneath the table, a signal for her to not get involved but she shoves his hand off her, “Look Armando, I’ve been working with you for a good while on this term and your paranoia is out of this world. We can blame your mother for that sure but you got to work through that shit at some point man. You got in your head and now look at you, about to lose your wife. Someone you loved enough to want to spend an eternity with just to let this presidency get to you. It’s clown behavior, I’m just saying.”

“Well nobody asked you, Kelly.” Armando muttered with a strong side eye.

“I don’t care.” The dark haired woman sassed, “I’m not going to be the one enabling you. You’re a dumbass.”

That made you smile.

Kelly scrapped her chair back, looking at all the faces that sat at the table, “And neither should the rest of you, especially you two.” She stared hard at Mike who raised his brows at Kelly’s usual bluntness and Marcus who raised his hands in innocence, “I know where I’m going once you don’t win a second term.” She finishes, looking at Armando one last time before giving you a sharp nod and taking her exit.

Armando stared after her in disbelief, although his usual blank facial expression shielded that well. Yet when he settled his eyes on Dorn, who looked torn, since the two managed to build a solid friendship and partnership—it was actually Armando, Dorn, and Reggie that were the main faces of his term.

“Sorry man,” The blond found himself apologizing but Armando just shrugs his shoulders, knowing Dorn had no true aim on leaving—at least he didn’t have that conversation with Armando.

Wait a minute…

Armando tightened his gaze on you, “You mind telling me what Kelly is getting at?”

It was your turn to shrug your shoulders, “Not everyone can be yes men, ladies, or people. People want balance, I wanted balance. You couldn’t even give me that because you value chess over love and it’s really sad.”

The tone you were taking with him, speaking so at ease with a wicked smile at the corner of your lips, and the glint in your eyes did not feel warm. There was a chill right underneath it. The longer Armando searched your eyes, he started to feel his heart race.

And not in a good way.

“Oh those gears are turning now aren’t they, Mr. Soon to be Ex-President?” You grinned.

Armando stands up so fast that he knocks the chair he was sitting in back, “You can’t be fucken serious?!”

Giggling, you dabbed at the corners of your mouth, “Why wouldn’t I be? Always best to be a few steps ahead right? That is what you once said. And I have you to thank for that, so, thank you. Thank you for making me realize what’s worth my time since I’m not yours. Are you ready to be my First Gentleman?”

Armando felt his eye twitch at the ball you just dropped. “Did you know?” He turns to his father.

Mike shakes his head, “No ‘Mando I didn’t but can you fault her?”

“So you’re taking her side?!”

Christine speaks up so her husband didn’t also raise his voice, “Honey, I know you’re upset but let’s turn it down a notch and just hear each other out.”

Before Armando can say more, you shake your head, “I don’t have anything else to say quite frankly. I’m running and if I don’t win then that’s fine too but as long as you don’t get a second term? That’ll be even better. Too much stress isn’t good for the baby.”

All the older adults whipped their heads to you at this news.

“What did you just say?” Mike splutters out.

Christine and Secada both shared a deep frown.

Marcus said, “I know I’m in no position to ever speak on a woman’s body…were you not just sipping on some fizz?”

You scanned all the faces in the room, and the amount of times Armando caressed his facial hair made you think he was about to pass out.

“Ah, I had y’all going didn’t i?” You winked, which visibly made everyone relax, “Can you imagine? Me trying to take over the world while carrying a heir? Real queen shit but…hopefully Dinah doesn’t pop back up talking about a bundle of joy of her own within the next few days because I might just actually have to bury your ass, and pretend you went missing, I don’t know.”

You said all this with a smile that made Christine share a worried glance with Theresa who couldn’t blame you. Reggie quietly finished his meal, wanting to finish it all before they all got kicked out but it’s not like he would have said much in the first place but he was definitely listening. He was the only one who knew what Armando was up to with Dinah until you approached Dorn to gather information (hack into Key West’s cameras and common areas Armando would be at out there) that was slowly about to released into the world.

“Don’t joke like that.” Armando muttered, palms flat on the table.

You blink, “Why? You took this marriage as one.”

Armando shakes his head, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so we’re gaslighting now? Were you or were you not involved with another woman?” You interrogated.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” Armando tried to tell you, he wasn’t physical with Dinah at all but if he looked back at it, it was still a form of cheating.

“Screencaps say different. Yapper Dinah says different…but no stress…maybe there will be a divorce or open marriage if that’s more your speed…I’m not sure what I’m feeling just yet though. TBD?”

Armando clasped his hands above his head, low lidded eyes settled on you as he tried to control his breathing, “Are you loca?”

“Nooo! Don’t say that.” Mike immediately shook his head already aware that was the wrong thing to say, shifting his gaze from a collected you and his iritated son.

Marcus also tried to intervene, “Nope.”

Instead all at the table watched you give off another round of laughter. This was not a good sign, it sounded chaotic and everyone can sense you were over it.

Resting one arm along the table and resting your cheek against the knuckles of your other hand you respond, “I could show you but I’ll let the universe do her thing, baby.”

With that you take your entree plate and start to leave the table but not without saying over your shoulder followed by a wave, “Thanks for coming to dinner everyone, my apologies for my late arrival but most importantly, I’m sorry Arman wasn’t the best host. Have a great night, I know I will.” You sing-song, feeling giddy at tonight’s plans.

Armando began to walk after you but Mike was already up and on his feet as well. He latched onto his son’s shoulder, “Aye, you gotta eat this one. Let some steam off before y’all can have a civil conversation, without us being your audience, ya know?”

“You might need some witnesses just in case she murder yo ass.” Marcus attempted with a chuckle, just to be slapped on his chest by Theresa, “Ow! Y’all all heard what she said right?”

“Shut up, Marcus.” Theresa tells her husband before Mike can.

Armando felt his eyes close once the guards shut the door behind you. You being out of his life out of something so one sided, was frustrating and not only that? Now you wanted to run against him during the next election? Then on top of that, you were considering ending this marriage and being so at peace with it too? That didn’t sit well with Armando.

So yeah, he was stressed.

“You know, you screwed up right? When a woman is that calm over your mishaps…that means deep shit.” Secada tells Armando at the front door of the palace, who huffs and rolls his eyes, “Hey as your SecDef who did just see you get your ass handed to you, again, I’m just stating the obvious and trying to help.”

“If I wanted your input, I would have asked.”

“Don’t take it out on me.” Secada affirms, “Usually your defense is better than this which already tells me, whatever you got yourself wrapped into with Dinah, is clearly messing up your judgment and now there’s consequences.”

Armando waved his hand along, still holding the front door open, “Tell me something I don’t know, General.”

Secada placed her hands on her hips as she now stands outside, “…Sitting on top of the world can be lonely, Aretas. Look at your mother—hell just talk to Mike. Don’t let that be your story when you truly have someone who only wanted to be loved by you and has loved you in return.”

“…Heard you.” Is all Armando says with a dip of his head, and Secada can tell that he was taking that part of her words in.

With a final hug of the night to tía Theresa, Christine, and a unwanted one from tío Marcus, Armando shares another somewhat lengthy chat with Mike on not pressing the issue anymore but after Armando remembered that you were trying to go out tonight, that went in one ear and out the other.

He wasn’t shocked to not find you in the primary bedroom, searching one of the ten rooms, finding you on the east wing, tucked far into the palace and out of sight. Armando knew you were in there based on the music vibrating from the door and a bowl you had resting outside the door on a tray.

Armando knocks hard, knowing you should be able to hear him over the bass. You take your time, coming to the door now dressed in a corset, mini skirt, tall boots, and hair in a claw clip. There was no shame in Armando’s game as he drank you in with his eyes, damn you looked good, but that was not the point.

“Where you goin’?”

“A girls night out on the town and that’s all I’m saying on that.” You announce with your chin up in the air before spinning to head back into the room, “Are you going to try and hold me hostage in here? If so, then you’re really asking for a fight.”

“No,” Armando lifted his shoulders with his lips pushed out a bit, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t go out tonight though.”

With a long sigh, you picked up your necklace, placing it in Armando’s palm so he could put it on you. “Well…we can’t always get what we want, right? It’s just like auntie Whitney said, it’s not right but it’s okay, I’m gonna make it anyway.”

Once clasped you turned back to face your husband. Your fingers went to his forehead to smooth out the lines there, “Stress brings wrinkles.”

“Kelly keeps telling me to get Botox…just in case, although my melanin should work in my favor.”

You snort, “Your body your choice, baby. Anyways! I’ve got to run, don’t wait up.”

It was Armando’s turn to grab your wrist, which you halt although you wanted to snatch it right back. However you kept your breathing steady and slowly faced the brown eyed man, questioning what he wanted silently. Something the both of you commonly did, socializing with just your eyes.

“…I hope you’re not for real thinking about ending things?”

Brushing a strand that fell into your eye, thanks to tilting your head to the side you say, “is that really a conversation you want to get into tonight? It’s been a long day.”

“Mine’s longer.”

He was the damn president after all.

“Ah yes, a competition with my unfaithful husband.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

How else could he have meant it?

“What is it exactly you want from me?” You question Armando, “To yell, scream, or cry? All the above? Drag your name through the press so you really end this term in a dumpster fire? That’s not me, never has been and I thought you knew that. I’m just done…probably numb? If I look into your eyes long enough, I can feel my heart wanting to race because I’ve really adored all parts of you until now. Then there’s this stronger side of me that says, maybe I’ve had enough too and just waited too late to see that.”

Armando can feel you fading from his grasp but he only had himself to blame for that. He cleared his throat, scratching at the side of the bridge of his nose as he followed you down the hallway before speaking up, “I think we still owe one another a final convo…once we sleep on it.”

“Okay, Arman,” is all you say texting away on your phone to let him know you heard him but still dreaded that, you knew the most important part of that talk would be the election because over the last few years, that became more important than your marriage, “Goodnight, don’t let the thoughts bite.”

And he stops following you, letting you disappear from his sight.

In bed, Armando lays on his back staring up at the ceiling constantly checking his socials, skipping over the constant talk of his fuck ups with Dinah being put on blast, ignored her texts, and searched for you, to see what you were up to.

Ultimately he would be the one up all night stressed over you.

And if you really chose to think about it, that would be fine by you.

ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ★ ᯓ

Read my final autumn anthology slice here.

#Spotify #queued #armando aretas #armando aretas x black reader #fall fanfiction #fall fiction #jacob scipio #bad boys for life #bad boys ride or die #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #theresa Burnett #Dorn bad boys #Kelly bad boys #alexander ludwig #vanessa hudgens #Rita Secada #Christine Lowrey

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sunrisesfromthewest · 5 months ago

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First Encounter Part 5

Warnings: SMUT+18,Armando finally getting that 🐱,R-rated Language ,Armando causal taking a piss like it’s normal between y’all 😂Very little Breeding kink,Shower Sex, (Poor Kitty Abandoned and Marcus still traumatized by his decision😭) Previous Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6

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As you enter the shower you moan in relief as the hot water cascades against your exhausted body. Soaking up the heat, that is now surrounding you, you grab your exfoliating sheet and favorite body wash, eager to wash off today's stress and worries.

As you run the soapy sheet against your legs you couldn’t help but to let your mind wander to the steamy make out sesh with Armando. Running your hands over your thighs you sigh with need, ”Damn..maybe I should’ve asked him to join me.”

Continuing your shower routine, you began to hear water running, confused you take a peek from around the curtain only to freeze at the sight before you. Armando stood in front of the toilet; shirt tucked under his chin, tan muscled stomach flexing slightly, as he peed.

Eyes trailing down his figure you let out a gasp as he turned, giving you a beautiful view of his thick lengthy member. Hearing a gasp Armando looks up only to see you gazing at him, specially at a certain body part. "Enjoying the view, princess.", he says with a smug look while shaking his member lightly before tucking himself back in his boxers.

Realizing you been caught you pull the shower curtain back, blocking his view as you yell, "Why didn’t you knock!”

Hearing a laugh and a flush, you step back away from the water already knowing that it would briefly become cold before returning back to its normal temp. “The real question is do you want me to join you, princess.” tensing at his words, you stop, brain spitting out multiple reasons on why you should decline, but you feel a light throb between your legs at his offer.

Sticking your head out the shower, you see him drying his hands, while leaning against your bathroom sink. Brown eyes meeting yours while he gives you a teasing smile,” What’s it gonna be mamá?”

Biting your lip trying to contain your smile, you open the curtain partcially,allowing him to get a view of your chest. Watching as the water rundown the valleys of your pretty brown breast, Armando releases a hungry growl,” Definitivamente te voy a dejar embarazado, cariño(I'm definitely getting you pregnant).”

Giggling in excitement as you see him strip, you move back under the water, thanking your past self for getting the wet and wavy sew ins. Watching as his tan sun kissed body steps in the shower with you, you let out a sigh in anticipation and admiration.

“Are you sure that this is what you want,cuz once I start ain’t no stopping." he says as he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you into him. Moaning from the embrace you nod your head not trusting your voice at the moment. “Don’t go mute on me Y/N, I need to hear your pretty mouth say yes."

Lifting up your chin, with a single finger, your brown eyes connect with his, "Use your words, mamá”.Letting out a breathy yes, Armando brings you into a sloppy kiss, arms wrapping around his neck you run a hand against his head pressing him forward.

Sucking on his tongue, Armando groans into the kiss, body shaking from the sensation, hands gripping your waist he pulls you closer grinding against you. Not breaking the kiss, he nips at your full lips, while giving your ass a smack. "Keep teasing me like that Y/N and Imma make sure you have a limp while you attempt to walk.", he says in between kisses.

Shuddering from his words you pull back running your hands against his firm pecks” Promise", you say already feeling dazed by the kiss alone. Feeling his dick jump at your words, you smile trailing a hand down his wet chest and pass his stomach.

Hearing him release a sigh, you began to jerk him off, wrist moving up and down, at a slow pace. Moaning he grips your ass harder, sucking at your neck while deeply muttering, “"Te lo prometo… A la mierda nena…. ¡Lo prometo!(I promise.... fuck baby.... I promise!)”

Tracing your thumb over his tip, you feel him shiver against you, while you rub his precum against him member. Armando bites your neck, while trailing kisses down your chest, feeling him flick your nipple with his tongue made you moan loudly.

He growls as he began to nip, suck and bite your breast: listening as he sucks on your breast made you slick between your legs. As he gives the same attention to the other breast you feel his hand wonder down to your inner thighs.

Gasping he begins to rub your clit in hard circular motions, throwing your head against the shower wall you moan, which only seemed to make him move faster. Moving away from your breast his eyes darken as he watches your expression change, "You like that baby, does it feel good." he says eyes trained on you waiting for a reply.

To loss in the sensation, you failed to hear what he said resulting in him pinching your clit,gulping you say, "What?" Smirking at your loss expression he says,”Y/N you better start listening or this is going to be a long night." Nodding your head, you feel him roughly rub your clit,”What I say about that nodding, shit.” Sighing as he begins to run his fingers through your wet folds, you moan while saying "Okay, Daddy!" Feeling his hands freeze you look up at him confused on why he stopped.

Licking his lip he gives you an intense stare, "What you just say, baby?”, blinking as you watch his eyes switch to predatory, you say Daddy raising an eyebrow. Seeing you give him a confused innocent look only made him, harder as he grabs your left leg wrapping it around his waist.

“Say it again,” he says rubbing his thick length between your wet folds, blinking you look into his eyes moaning Daddy. Armando grinds into you hard repeating his words, again as he kisses your moist lips.

Kissing him harder your breath hitches as his tip rubs against your clit.” No sabes lo que me estás haciendo, princesa(You don't know what you do to me,princess),” he says chuckling darkly, "I haven’t even given you my dick yet and your already about to cum.”

Trembling from his words and his merciless grinding you kiss at his neck begging. "What you want baby?” he says as he hears you plead, while dragging his dick against you, "Use your words, I ain’t telling you again.” Smacking your ass hard, he waits for your reply, "I want you inside of me!" you whine as you feel a stinging sensation from the slap.

Carefully picking you up Armando presses you against the shower wall, body getting soaked by the shower head. Giving you a soft kiss on the lips, he presses his toned body against your soft one while grabbing his member eagerly. Lining his tip up with your entrance he asked if you were ready.

“I’m more than ready, Mando.” you say sucking at his neck, while running your nails against his back. After hearing you confirm that you were ready, he pushes in the tip letting out a shaky sigh. Reaching a hand up to grab your chin he pulls you into a bruising kiss, as he eases his thick dick into your wet pussy,inch by inch.

“Damn,baby you taking my dick so good." he groans, voice deep and raspy. "I barely done anything to you,Y/N and your pussy is soaking!" Wrapping your thick legs around his tan waist tighter, as he begins to slide in and out of you, made you shiver with pleasure.

“If this was any other time, I would’ve made you wear a condom," you say in between pants, while kissing his shoulder. Gripping your ass harder, he starts drilling into your shit,which in return caused you to hold onto him for dear life.

“Cariño, este coño es mío, ya no tienes que preocuparte por la protección.(Baby, this pussy is mine, you don't have to worry about protection no more.)”, he says growling in your ear, while pounding into you.

You couldn’t tell if it was water or slick running, down your legs but the way your body was twitching against him, leaned you more towards the second option. Gasping as he hit a certain area had you moaning like crazy, while throwing your head back.

"Is that it baby....is that the spot." He said thrusting into you, more anxious to see you come on done. Locking your low lidded brown eyes with his dilated ones almost made you cum on the spot. Running a hand through his hair you give him light praises, while shifting your hips against his hungrily.

“Fuck,right their baby.... you're making me feel so good!" you said trying your best to grind against him from the position you were in. Clenching around him, you set one of your legs on the shower floor, attempting to meet his thrust with your own, as he hits that spot again.

“I’m close Mando...so fucking close!" you said kissing at his neck, while reaching between y'all to rub your swollen clit. “Damn it, baby, I can feel you gripping me, warm pussy just sucking me up......and the noises your making is driving me crazy......” he says, breathless, thrusting harder as he tries to hold back and savor the feeling of being inside of you.

Your orgasm sneaking up on you caused you to throw your head back, eyes closed as you let out a loud moan, body freezing up. Kissing against your open mouth, his movements begin to studder as he feels you clench around his dick hard. Gulping he talks you through it, "There you go baby... just like that...keep sucking in my cock, baby......I'm so close!"

Hammering into you he chases after his on release, pulling your head back by your hair as he attacked your already bruising neck. Becoming overstimulated you didn’t know whether to push him away or pull him into you. As he gets close to the edge his thrusting turn into a frantic uncoordinated thrust, he asked you where you wanted him to cum.

Mind to fucked to think straight you mumble, "Inside....I want you.... inside." Hearing you say that sent him over the edge as he cums,inside you ,hips stuttering, eyes squeezed shut as he holds onto you tightly.

Laying boneless against him while the now warm water trails, down your combined bodies had you relaxed. Pulling you closer to him, as he rocked against you, had your nerves trembling, thrusting up once more into you, made you slap his back.

Letting out a breathless laugh, he asked if you were okay, moving his head back to look at your flustered fucked out expression." Peaches and cream......literally, "you say giving him a content but teasing smile.

Bursting out laughing, he reached for what he assumed was your body wash and proceed to rub the soap against your body, opting to use his now wrinkled tan hands. Pouring some in your wrinkled hand as well you began massaging it in to his skin.

Once you two were done washing each other bodies (more like groping), you turn off the water and stepped out the shower with shaky legs. Grabbing two towels out your cabinet you handed Armando one, which he accepted, and begin drying off.

Wrapping a small towel around your head, you paused in realization, "Where's my baby at?” Towel wrapped low around his waist ,he smiles brightly, "Like I said I wanted to play with his mamá pus-” not even giving him the chance to finish, you walk away or at least attempt to, in search of your abandoned kitty.

Meanwhile.......

Kelly and Dorn have returned to their lake house after saving Rita who was almost killed by Lockwood. Kelly looks around for you to see if you can check out Rita's bruises, but is only left confused when you and..... Armando is nowhere in sight.

Kelly walks up to Marcus to ask where you went; who she just noticed bawled up on the couch looking traumatized, "Hey, did Y/N go to her house?” Mike looks up as he heard the question but before he was able to cut in, Marcus still bawled up started rocking, whispering quietly.

Kelly screws her face together, not quiet hearing him, Dorn walks over to see what is going on but is pulled back by Mike who sent him a ‘trust me on this’ look.

Grabbing his shoulder to ask what’s wrong, Marcus sits up suddenly, giving Kelly a dead serious look, "You think Latino Mike is going to force my baby to birth little gangsters?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note:I ain’t even gonna lie y’all,I struggle so hard writing this😃,I never realized how hard it was to write Smuts…………………………………..

But for now Imma stick to reading them hopefully y’all enjoy💕💕💕(I tried y’all 😭😭)

#armando aretas #bad boys ride or die #x black fem reader #Armando #jacob scipio #armando armas #bad boys #new writers on tumblr #Armando aretas x black reader #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #Will smith #martin lawrence #Armando x daughter Burnett reader #x black y/n #x reader #smut starter #First Encounter Series

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nelo0wesker · 4 months ago

Text

Does she like me?

Armando X reader and son and father bonding

I will do a part 2 of this if anyone wants me to

@violetmuses

————

Armando watches you pass by him getting some food. You were a friend of Mike and Marcus. Marcus thought of you as a daughter.

Armando watches you laugh at what Marcus said and sighs watching you wondering if he’ll ask you out if you’ll say yes or no. It mattered if you even liked him to even go out. He gives a small smile watching you play with one of the kids. While watching you Marcus taps Mike. Mike turns to him with his eyebrow raised and then looks to where Marcus is pointing. “He’s in love Mike” he whispers watching the longing look Armando has at you. “If only he knew she liked him back” Marcus whispers to Mike and then smiles getting an idea. Mike turns to Marcus and sees the look. “I don’t like that look Marcus. What are you planning?” Mike says wanting to know. “How about you talk to your son Mike while I talk to Y/N… convince Armando to ask her out” Marcus says giving him a dumb smile.

“That ain’t gonna work Marcus. Armando is too closed off to me. I’m still trying to get him to talk and it isn’t much when he does. How am I gonna convince him to ask her out?” Mike questions him. “Mike you got this. Just convince him man. He’ll listen to you somewhat” Marcus says, not really sure if Armando will listen. “That’s very helpful Marcus it’ll never work” Mike says sarcastically. “At least try!” Marcus says pushing Mike towards his son and having his thumbs up when Mike looks at him.

Mike sighs walking towards his son and sits down right next to him watching where Armando is looking. He was looking straight at you. Mike clears his throat and Armando's eyes leave you to turn to his father. “You gonna ask her out?” He questions his son watching Armando immediately shake his head no. “No she doesn’t even like me” he whispers, not looking at his father anymore turning back to you with a longing look. “She wouldn’t even date me-“ he was gonna say it but Mike cut him off. “Don’t down yourself. You haven’t even tried asking her out yet. You can’t down yourself man.” Mike tells him. “You don’t know how she feels. Y/N could have the biggest crush on you without you realizing it” he says chuckling. “Ask her out and see if she likes you back” Mike tells him, getting up ruffling Armando's hair and walks away.

Armando looks at you thinking a little bit. “He’s not wrong. I haven’t even tried yet” he whispers, getting up walking towards you.

Marcus smiles seeing Armando go to you. “See Mike your talk worked” Marcus says watching the two. Mike turns watching you and Armando talk. “Matters if she actually likes him” he tells him and Marcus turns to Mike giving him a glare. “Did you not hear me before? Y/N has a crush on Armando” he tells him and turns back to you and Armando watching you blush and smile as Armando confesses his feelings for you. “See your pep talk worked” he tells him as Armando kisses you for the first time. “Damn it actually did” Mike says watching how his son got the girl he wanted. “Bet they’re gonna get married?” Marcus says and Mike immediately turns to him. “Marcus!”

Marcus laughs, smiling. “You bet or not. Cause I don’t think those two are gonna break up” he tells him and Mike rolls his eyes. “How much are you betting?” Mike asks him. “50” he tells him. “50 it is then”

#armando aretas #bad boys #jacob scipio #armando aretas x reader #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #my writing

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ghettogirly · 5 months ago

Note

how do you think armando would react if y’all had the most passionate sex and you left in the middle of the night, acted like nothing had happened at work

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍:

-> synopsis. you and armando had the best night, yet, why do you still choose to pretend to not feel the same?

-> pairing: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐂 “𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀“

-> warning: heavy smut, slight dumbification, mix of bodily fluids, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!), angst, mature language, Selena is really annoying, Minors DNI.

-> authors note: thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! this is probably my proudest work yet. If anyone wants to be apart of my taglist, comment below.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆: Screwin - Summer Walker ft. Omarion.

[🕷️]

𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 and red roses slowly glided off the duvet as he moves up and down, matching the male’s thrusts into the helpless girl beneath. Triads of gasps and moans filled the room as the two made love, slaps echoed throughout while the two lovers’ skin connected with each other.

The connections created a white ring around the latino’s cock, caused by the mix of juices between the woman and him. Selena’s back arched as she gripped on the man’s broad shoulders, giving him small, red scratches that would probably lift up by tomorrow.

“Fuck… just like that.” She breathed, running his hands through his hair as he continued to thrust into her.

“You like that?”

Selena doesn’t even have time to answer, the man diving into her neck. Kissing her soft, melanated skin while he leaves a trail of burgundy marks. He quickens his pace, pushing his whole length inside of her, bottoming her out causing her to whine out in pleasure and a little bit of pain. “Ohhh, fuck!”

“You’re taking me so well baby..”

He laughed at your whining, enjoying seeing you lose yourself further and further for him, seeing yourself get frustrated. “You’re so fucking wet..” biting her earlobe ever so gently as he speeds up his pace. His cock pistoning in and out of you cashing him to grunt, losing the ability to control himself more and more.

“Oh fuck baby, please please please..” Selena babbles, the pleasure now being the only feeling there as it clouds her mind. This being the only thing now controlling her cognition and behaviour.

“Agárrate por mí, nena, ya casi estoy ahí..”

“I can’t, i can’t!”

A random act stops her continuous period of babbling, feeling something enter her mouth. It was his thumb, he quickly pulled it out, it making a small ‘Pop!’ sound while a string of saliva comes with it. Dropping on the woman’s exposed torso. Too blinded by the pleasure going on within her, she fails to recognise what he’s just done, until she feels it.

Wet trails of just saliva lead from the top of her vagina to the clit as he slowly presses on it and starts running gently. Armando wraps his one arm around your shoulders as he now continues to pound into the hispanic woman while circling her clit, sending shockwaves through her body due to the temperature play demonstrated by the man. The hot sensation of your clit contrasts with the cool temperature of your man’s thumb, causing them little hairs on your body to stand up, generating goosebumps. Selena’s jet black hair sticks to the pillow as the sweat generating from her head creates a glue type consistency onto the silk pillow behind her.

Her eyes roll back and she stops clawing on the males back, instead throwing her arms to the sides of her. The emotions of arousal causing her to submit to them being too much for the poor girl. Pulsating on the latino’s dick, her lips part. “I can’t wait, i need to..”

The man looks into her eyes. Her heterochromatic eyes stare right back at him. A connection of lust, passion, and weirdly enough, love. Leaning forward, Armando embraces her into a kiss, roughly attacking her lips like a wild animal chasing its prey. Not getting enough of her taste. The woman engages with it just as hard, seeming as if though, she does not want to let him go either. His thrusts become more erratic, clearly reaching his climax too.

“Let’s do it together baby, i’m going to cum in you so fucking bad. i need to-“

“Oh fuck!!”

Without warning, a rush of pleasure cascades down the light-skinned girl, causing her toes to curl as she releases all her juices on him. The woman’s orgasm elicited a sense of relief from the latinx male as he too begins to move faster, his skin slapping against hers before releasing his load into her. His pace begins to slow down, his hips still jolting but dying down ever so slightly. “te sientes tan bien nena..” Armando whispered to the exhausted woman below.

“I fucking love you.”

[🕷️]

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 3 am in the morning. Selena looked to the left of her and saw a muscular arm over her stomach with the caramel toned male, nuzzling into her neck. His expression was unreadable but he seemed to be at peace with the slow, shallow breathing he did. Finally having a good nights sleep, the first in a while.

Still, even with the comfort of the man lying next to her, she felt ashamed to be here. Or yet, embarrassed. She slept with her boss’s son again. Only supposed to be a one time thing, yet, she foolishly agreed to be friends with benefits. However now, her feelings were involved. She was confused on what to do..

Sighing, she slowly removed his arm before throwing a shirt over her. Selena began to collect her things, guilt washing over her face as she looked back at the male.

He was still sleeping, his pink lips slightly parted as he begins to exhale out of his mouth too.

“I knew i shouldn’t have done this..” The woman whispered to herself, holding the silver crusted pendant that was hanging off her neck, the one Armando got her. Sadness began to creep down her as she basked in her thoughts, negative thoughts at that. “You’re leading him on, he deserves for you to tell him straight up.”

But, how was she leading him on if she loved him too?

How does she love him, if one day she pretends she hates him?

How do you love him if you feel like you’ve sinned after making love?

A deep voice suddenly breaks her train of thought as she hears a ruffle of sheets on the bed and someone clearing their throat. “What are you doing mamí..?”

Selena looks at him with regret filling her eyes, the brown iris now illuminating as the male turns on the lamp next to him.

“Armando..”

“¿De verdad estás huyendo de nuevo?”

“I am not running away. Don’t fucking insult me like that. We haven’t even established what we are, are we lovers, friends with benefits or am i just a girl you use whenever you’re bored!”

“I just fucking said i love you, dejar de tratar de jugar a la víctima. To think that the first time you did this i thought you was overwhelmed because of how sudden it was.”

“You could’ve just said that in the moment-“

“SHUT UP!” Anger boomed from his voice as he shouted, knocking the lamp over in the process as he looked at you with rage but love in his eyes. “Do not try and manipulate me just because you are confused with what you want.”

That silenced her. At a loss for words, she didn’t even bother saying anything else. Was she really manipulative?

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄. Not only was she ignoring Armando, still hurt about what he said, he was ignoring her too. Making her job easier, which only hurt her more. Was Selena upset because he was right? She loved him so much but why did she not show him that?

Every-time the group had to talk, they would sit apart from each other. Group celebrations were awkward too, Armando didn’t even glance at the poor girl, treating her as if she didn’t even exist. A game that she started, ended up being ran by the true player as she realised she could never beat him in his own game.

She noticed. As did everyone else too. It wasn’t until Kelly had to ask you what was wrong was where you just fell apart. “I fucked up so so bad Kelly. He hates me.” She sobbed into her hands, her hair a mess as sadness yet desperation hung over her head. All the other woman could do was comfort her as she cried into her arms.

Little did she know there was someone behind that door who heard it all.

However, footsteps trailed away from the door, leaving the love they had behind.

[🕷️] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“Agárrate por mí, nena, ya casi estoy ahí”-Hold on for me, baby, i’m almost there

“te sientes tan bien nena..”- You feel so good baby..

“¿De verdad estás huyendo de nuevo?” - Are you really running away again?

“dejar de tratar de jugar a la víctima.” - Do not try and play the victim.

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xjaylyn · 4 months ago

Text

PART 3 - Bad Boys: Second Chances

Pairing: Armando x Black! OC (Rya)

Warnings: blood, graphic, guns, death, mature, language (use of the n word), and some other stuff I probably forgot about sorry

Summary: Its been two years since Captain Conrad was framed. Another mission brings the team back together and new relationships are formed. It's said everyone deserves second chances and room to grow. So maybe this is that second chance

a/n: It's a really long chapter like 2 chapters long because I will be out of town for a few days and probably wont have time to update. But I will try if I have some free time. Chapter 4 will be shorter.

"This is it,"

Mike pulls into an apartment complex. At a glance, you can tell it's a quiet place, slightly run down; not many people living here. Getting out of the car, the duo follows Armando to his unit. Unlocking the door, Armando steps inside and turns the light on, it flickering slightly for a second before focusing. His place is small, about the size of a hotel suite, with a small kitchen barely able to fit two people. Tight space but enough for someone who doesn't own much but himself anyway.

"I just need to pack some things and we can head out... don't touch nothing," Armando says while walking into his room. Still standing by the front door, Mike and Marcus look around the place.

"Barely looks lived in... well shit, at least he has a TV," Marcus says, walking towards the small couch to take a seat. Mike steps towards the kitchen, opening the small fridge to see barely anything in there: only a couple of water bottles and simple ingredients to make a sandwich, but that was it. Closing the door, he spots something in the corner on the counter: two small cut-out pictures. One of Armando's mother, Isabel, and one of him. Feeling his chest tighten, he gently places the photos back in the corner.

Hearing Armando walk back into the small space, he steps out of the kitchen. "Nephew, what games you play on here?" Marcus asks, pointing at the PlayStation lying next to the small TV.

Armando looks at the man, raises his brow, "why is that important?"

"Because if it's Call of Duty I'll whoop yo ass, what's your tag?" Adjusting the bag strap on his shoulder, Armando turns his body completely towards his uncle, "What's your rank?"

"Diamond 3 rank 2," Marcus says, crossing his arms.

Scoffing with a smirk on his face, Armando just shakes his head. Dropping his arms, Marcus furrows his brows, "what? What's so funny 'bout that?"

"Nothing, but you ain't whooping nobody ass with that weak ass rank," Armando says, walking up to the door.

"Oh, you a lil disrespectful motherfucker, alright, we gon' see 'bout that," Marcus follows behind him, pointing his finger at the young man walking out the door. "Mike, he just don't know how I do."

--------------------------------------------------------

Four hours into the ride, the three of them sat in peaceful silence. Armando looks at the two in the front, Mike focused on driving and Marcus knocked out, snoring a little bit. Looking at his father, he decides to break the silence.

"What's the mission?" he asks.

Mike glances in the rearview mirror, "Apparently the biggest case the government has ever had... was told you might know something about it."

"I don't know why your people think I know it all, I only worked on what my mother told me to do... she's the one with the answers," Armando shrugs.

"Well, that's fine... we have someone that may know something to help us out... we're picking her up when we arrive in Miami."

Nodding his head, he looks down at the back seat noticing a file sitting beside him. "That's the case file, you can look through it and see if you find something you might recognize."

Picking up the file, he skims through everything. Besides the people he has worked with in the past, he's not sure about everything else. Shaking his head, he looks back up at his father, "Nah, I don't know."

Another silence falls upon the two. Clearing his throat, Mike decides to fill Armando in on the past 2 years. "Things have been normal since the last mission... thank you, by the way, for helping clear Cap's name-"

"I didn't have much of a choice," Armando interrupts, raising a brow.

"Yeah, well, thank you anyway..." Another silence falls between the two. Clearing his throat, Mike decides to try for a conversation again. "You have a baby sister," Mike mentions, glancing at Armando through the rearview mirror to see his face.

Armando looks up at him, making eye contact but doesn't say a word.

"Yeah, uh, she just turned one yesterday... cutest thing too... she loves anybody that gives her food," Mike laughs. Dropping his hand, he digs in his pocket for his wallet. Opening it up, he reaches back to give it to Armando.

Taking the wallet from him, Armando sees a picture of a baby girl. 'Cute.' Mike notices how Armando's face slightly softens. It wasn't a big facial expression, but you can tell it did something to him. Looking at the picture a little more, his attention looks down to another photo, it was old... one of him as a baby. Closing the wallet, he hands it back to his father.

"Congrats," Armando says, cutting the one-sided conversation to an end and looking out the window watching everything pass by.

--------------------------------------------------------

...MIAMI...

Finally arriving at their destination, Mike pulls into the private base, security guarding every corner. Stopping at the gate, Mike and Marcus show their badges. The guard nods and lets them through. Getting out of the car, the three notice Chief Paul Nicola and a couple of guards walking towards them.

"Glad to see you all are here. This way, please," Paul extends his arm out, leading the small group into the private building. "For the past six months, we have kept our informant in max security... she was found in uniform so she is to be kept chained up as we do not know exactly what she is capable of. She has agreed to only speak to the people working with her to negotiate a deal," Paul says while scanning his ID to enter a private area in the building.

Stopping at a door, Paul turns to the trio. "Please don't fuck this up."

Allowing the men to step into the room, there's only one source of light from a small window making it dim. In the center of the room, they see a table and a person sitting down completely covered head to toe in chains that are bolted into the floor—securely fastened to ensure no way to escape.

The trio takes a seat at the table. A guard standing in the corner walks up to unlock the headlock. The sound of the metal mask dropping to the floor echoes through the room. She has a disheveled look to her: curly hair matted and covering some of her features, faded bruises on her face, and a busted lip. Looking into her eyes, they see she is scared and nervous. She stares at the men in front of her uncertainly.

Marcus clears his throat and softly speaks up, "Okay... I'm Detective Marcus Burnett and this is my partner Detective Mike Lowery and Armando." He points to his left and right where Mike nods at her and Armando just stares. "We know you know something that we need to know to get this shit together. So what is it that you need us to do for us to help each other?" Marcus asks, cutting straight to the chase.

The woman continues to stare at the men in front of her before nodding her head towards the guard behind her. "Get him out first."

Looking up at the guard, Mike waves his hand in a shooing motion. "We'll be good, sir," smiling at the guard who hesitates for a second before stepping out. Hearing the heavy door close, she starts, "I need one thing guaranteed to me."

"Layla Batiste... I need one of you to free her... she should be in the 7th cell on the right. Free her and give her anything she needs to make a living," the woman says, her voice shaking a bit.

"Okay, and who is this Layla? Why do we need to free her?" Mike questions.

"My sister... just agree to do that and we have a deal," she pleads, looking at Mike. "And write it down too so you don't forget... Layla Bat-"

"Batiste, 7th cell on the right. Yeah, I got it," Mike says, leaning back in his chair. "Done. Now, what do you know? Actually, what is your name before anything?"

Taking a breath, the woman sits back in her seat. "My name is Rya," she says.

"Okay, Rya, what do you know?"

"Do we have a deal?" Rya presses.

"Yes, we have a deal. We free Layla and you help us. Done. Sealed," Marcus says, leaning forward on the table. Armando just sits back with his arms crossed, watching the whole ordeal.

"You were captured by our military in a uniform... what were you doing in uniform?" Marcus questions.

Rya looks at Marcus then looks down. "I have been a prisoner since I was 10... a way for my parents to pay their debt... he sends us on missions as decoys... I was sent there as a distraction and ended up being caught."

Armando raises a brow at her wording, leaning forward to make his presence known. "Who's he?" he asks, looking at her with a hard expression.

Looking up, Rya makes eye contact with the brown eyes staring at her. She can tell he is studying her, looking for any reason not to trust her and her words. "A man named Sergio... he's dangerous and powerful. His family for decades has been a part of this big project to take over the world. For reasons I don't know... I just know his kind is powerful... and it's not just him. He has the military, doctors, scientists, judges, governments in different countries working for him. Any influence you can think of, he has someone there working for him. It's a world operation that has been growing nonstop... he's just the center of it."

The three men look at the girl in front of them and then at each other, taking in the information given to them. Mike looks back at the girl. "So why help us... what's in it for you?" he questions. She pauses for a second. "No one wants to be locked up and held captive for the rest of their life... this is my only chance and I can't do it by myself. I need your help." She looks at the men in front of her, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Hey, we are here to help as long as you can help us... you said he has connections everywhere... is there any place that you know that we can look into to gather evidence or something?" Marcus asks. Rya nods her head, closing her eyes to hold the tears back. "He has these liquid drops he's creating that's a mixture of different drugs and chemicals... there's a place on the strip... an abandoned lot that no one looks into, that's where he makes some of it."

"You know the exact place and where these drops would be?" Mike asks. Rya nods her head yes.

Slapping his hands on the table, Mike stands up looking down at the young girl. "Well, let's take a look at his little operation and make some shit happen." The three men make their way out of the room. Paul, standing in the hall on his phone, looks up as he hears the door open. Quickly putting his phone away, he walks towards the trio. "So what do we got?" He asks, putting his hands in his pocket, looking back and forth at them.

"The man we're looking for is Sergio. His family is the center of this operation and has connections everywhere. She said there's a secret lab on the strip. Claims he's making liquid drops laced with different drugs. We're gonna check it out and build up the case," Marcus says.

"Okay, good, we have something... I'm going to release her to you guys. Make sure she is protected at all costs. We can't afford to lose her," Paul tells them before walking off.

"Well... now we're babysitting... great."

--------------------------------------------------------

Walking out of the building, Paul and two guards on each side of Rya, her hands and feet cuffed. She looks up at the sky, squinting her eyes, and takes a deep breath, finally getting fresh air and light after being confined in a tight cell for 6 months. Looking down, she sees the three men from earlier standing by a car, waiting for her. She wasn't lying when she said Sergio is a dangerous man... his nickname to the people was "The Devil". With the type of connections he has, it's considered damn near impossible to take him down. But still, with the right people and enough evidence... there's a chance. She can only hope she made the right choice and that those three are the ones that can help her.

Feeling a slight tug, her body is forced to a stop. The guard on the right unlocks the cuffs on her feet. Leaving the handcuffs on, he hands the keys to Mike. "The hands are to remain locked." Mike nods, opening the back door to the car. Rya gets in, the door closing behind her. Looking out, she can see Paul exchange a few words with the men before the car doors open and they get in.

"We're going to the station to meet with the team. There you can change and we'll run down everything. Okay?" Mike says, looking back at her in the back seat.

Nodding her head, she feels eyes on her and turns her head to the right, seeing Armando staring at her. She looks him up and down, raising her brow when he doesn't look away. She hears Marcus speak from the front. "Don't worry about him," Marcus says, looking at the two in the back. "He's in his moody teenage phase where he hates his life and everyone in it..." He whispers to Rya. Furrowing his brows, Armando breaks their eye contact by slowly turning his head towards Marcus. "He'll get over it... eventually he tolerates you," Marcus winks at Rya and looks at Armando. "You ever eventually shut the hell up?" Armando asks, causing Mike and Marcus to look at him surprised. "Whoooa," Marcus exclaims, looking at his partner. Mike looks at Armando, "Hey, too much."

Armando rolls his eyes and looks at Rya one more time before he looks away and out the window. "You hear how he talks to me, Mike?... Just no respect for his elders!" Marcus whines from the front seat. "Yeah, I heard him..." The two continue to go back and forth. Rya raises a brow at the dynamic between the people she was put with. Glancing over at Armando, seeing him in his own world, she leans over into the corner of her seat, laying her head back. 'What the hell did I get myself into?'

--------------------------------------------------------

...Miami Precinct...

Stepping out of the shower, Rya wraps her towel around her body and walks over to the locker room mirror. She was able to wash her hair and brush it out, leaving it down to air dry. Wiping the mirror, she looks a little more like herself. The scars and light bruises all over her body are still visible, serving as a reminder of what she had to go through. Shaking her head, she looks over at the folded clothes given to her and quickly puts them on. It's a simple Miami PD t-shirt and black cargos along with black socks, comfortable enough to move around in. Slipping on her shoes, she walks out into the foyer where everybody was waiting for her.

Looking up from the computer, Mike claps his hands and points to Rya. "Everyone, this is Rya, our informant. Rya, this is Rita, the boss, and Kelly and Dorn. They are our tech kids, formally known as AMMO," he says, pointing at everyone. They all wave at her with a small smile, causing her to nod her head in acknowledgment.

Marcus walks up to her with her handcuffs. "Sorry, but they said at all times," he looks at her apologetically, putting the cuffs on her.

"Alright, I have the map of the entire strip. I marked up the abandoned buildings. I just need you to point it out for us," Dorn says, walking up to the table in the middle and laying the map flat on it.

Rya skims over the map. "This one," she says, pointing at a building.

"You sure?"

"Yes, it's that one," she says, looking up at the team.

"Alright, here's the plan," Mike starts. "Rya, you are going to go in and grab a sample of the drops. Grab anything you think we might need that can be used as evidence."

Rya looks at Mike, her eyes widened. "By myself?!" she asks.

"No, uh, Armando will go with you to make sure nothing happens to you. The rest of the team will be watching on the drones, so there's no need to worry."

Calming down a little bit, Rya nods her head. "Okay."

"Armando, you good with that?" Mike asks, looking back at his son who was standing in the back of the room. Armando shrugs and walks off.

"Okay. Well, the plan is set. Let's get ready."

--------------------------------------------------------

...3 Hours Later...

"Alright, can you hear me?" Dorn asks, looking at Armando and Rya who both wore protective gear and their earpieces. Both of them nod their heads as they make their way out of the truck.

"Alright, we'll be right behind you guys. Just grab a sample and get out safely," Rita says, looking at the two before closing the truck door.

Armando starts to walk toward the building, not paying Rya any attention. Rolling her eyes, Rya follows behind, picking up her pace to catch up to him. "Alright, we'll enter first to make sure it's clear," she heard Dorn say into the earpieces. Watching the drone fly into the building a couple of minutes later, she hears Dorn clear them to enter.

Walking into the building, there were broken pieces of glass and boarded-up openings. "You know where the stuff is at, right?" Armando questions, looking back at Rya.

"Yeah, it should be a little further down in a locked room," she replies. Making their way around the building, the two end up at a dead end.

"It's a dead end," Armando says, looking at the wall.

"No, it's just made to look that way," Rya corrects him.

Armando looks at Rya for a second before looking back at the wall. Stepping back a little, he kicks at the wall, and it easily crumbles, revealing a laboratory full of different substances. Skimming the room before stepping in, Armando picks up a bag full of white pills. "Opioids?" Armando mumbles, setting the bag back down. Watching Armando look around the place, Rya sneaks her still cuffed hands into her pocket, pulling out a flash drive. Looking around, she sees a desk off in the corner with a computer on it.

"Where are the drops?" Armando asks, looking back at her.

Quickly hiding the flash drive in her palm, she looks back at Armando and clears her throat.

"It should be in a case or one of these tubes," she says, stepping into the room.

Walking around, she makes her way towards the computer, quickly putting the flash drive in and pressing a button to turn on the computer. Looking back up to make sure Armando was still looking around, she presses around until she sees a downloading screen. Quickly walking away from the computer to look around.

"What are you doing?" She hears Armando question, staring at her.

"Looking for the drops, it should be around here somewhere," she replies, glancing around and noticing a small black case sitting on top of a shelf.

Lifting her cuffed hands, she points at the case.

"There, I think that's it."

Walking over, Armando picks up the case and places it on the counter. Unlocking it, he opens it to see a bunch of little tubes full of a liquid labeled 'OPP.M'. Glancing at Rya, who is looking at the tubes, he grabs one of the tubes and puts it in his pocket.

"Alright, let's go."

Suddenly, a beeping sound goes off.

"What is that?" Armando says, and Rya looks over at the computer.

Quickly walking over, she sees an error displayed on the screen.

"Shit," she mumbles, quickly grabbing the flash drive. She feels Armando grab her shoulder roughly, causing her to turn towards him.

"What the fuck is that?" His face hardens.

"Guys, we have people coming in," Kelly speaks into the earpiece.

All of a sudden, a man fully covered in black with a gold star stitched on his vest comes in firing at the two. Armando swiftly dodges, pulling Rya with him. Getting pushed under the counter, Rya watches as Armando grabs the man, making him stumble. Taking his gun away from him, Armando shoots the man.

More men in black come into the room. Armando fights each one coming at him. Watching him get outnumbered, Rya runs out, taking her cuffed hands and grabbing one of the men from behind, choking him with the chain.

Turning around, she takes the man with her, using him as a shield as one of the other men tries to shoot at her. Dropping his body, she drops to her knee, sliding across the floor, picking up a gun and shooting the men coming towards her. Running out of ammo, she runs up to one of the men, dodging the bullets before hitting him with the butt of the gun.

Grabbing one of the glass flasks on the desk, she breaks it and picks up the sharpest piece. A man comes up to her, throwing a punch. She strategically maneuvers, causing him to fall forward and land on the desk. Stabbing the man a few times in the back, she then turns around and slices the neck of another man coming towards her. A few minutes pass of her and Armando fighting, the last body dropping. She looks up at Armando, slightly roughed up and out of breath, already staring at her. Looking down at her bloody cuffed hands, she drops the piece of glass.

"What the fuck?" she hears Mike in her earpiece. Taking a breath, she looks back up at Armando.

"We got what we need, let's go," she says before turning around and walking out of the room, Armando following behind, glaring at her.

Making her way out of the building, she sees the doors of the truck open up, the team looking at her and Armando coming over. Stepping into the truck, she makes her way over to Dorn's computer and screens. "hey thats my seat" Dorn says pointing at her.

"What the fuck was that?" Marcus says, furrowing his brows and looking at Rya with his arms open.

Armando sits on the seat, unstrapping his vest. "Clearly your informant isn't just an informant," he says, glaring at her.

Rolling her eyes, she pulls out the flash drive from her pocket and swiftly inserts it into the computer, a bunch of files popping up. "Hey, who the fuck are you? Because that wasn't the same helpless girl that was crying and shit, pleading for us to help her back at the prison?!" Marcus says, pulling her shoulder back, forcing her to face the team, all looking at her with confusion apparent on their faces.

"You got some explaining to do," Mike says, crossing his arms.

Staring back at the team, Rya leans back in the chair. 'Well, shit.'

Tag List (lmk if you want to be added!):

@blackgirlmagicforever @believeinthefireflies95 @wizewhispers @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @sarcasticbitchsblog @maybepersuasivetom @d4rno

#armando aretas #armando imagine #armando x reader #bad boys #armando aretas x black reader #armando aretas x reader #bad boys second chances #jacob scipio #bad boys for life #bad boys ride or die #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #will smith #martin lawrence #armando aretas x black!oc

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probablyintensemuses · 3 months ago

Text

Hey Brother, pt 2

summary: in the present, you and Armando have an even rockier start.

authors note: read part 1 if you haven’t already. This one is mostly in Armando’s POV which I think is extraordinarily important.

Read Part 1 Here

Armando let the water run over him, each splash hitting a wound, causing him to wince.

The fight with McGrath’s people had been tougher on his body than he thought, and truthfully, on that tiny boat floating adrift, he didn’t think he’d make it here alive.

Luckily he had, trailing blood up the stairs and into your apartment as he waited for you to come home.

Mike had instructed him to come here and stay until things died down, until there could be some type of resolution for him, one that wouldn’t require more jail time.

He had said you would be fine with it, that you wouldn’t hesitate to help.

Armando wasn’t worried about that, he could see it in the way you’d placed a blanket over him, tucking him in, and stitching him together.

What he was worried about, truly, was facing you.

Yes, big bad assassin Armando was afraid to face his baby sister.

He couldn’t pin point why, exactly.

Maybe it was a mixture of fear, anger…guilt.

Guilt that you, his own little sister, almost died because of him all those nights ago.

Fear that you’d always be afraid of him and what he could do to you.

Anger that he even had to got through any of this shit at all.

Armando’s ran a wet hand through his sleek black hair, dragging water through his strands.

His fist shook and he wanted so desperately to punch something, but this wasn’t his place and he didn’t want to make things worse than what they already were.

So he took a deep breath, counted to ten, and then turned the shower off.

He climbed out of the shower, wrapping himself in the towel you had given him, walked out of the bathroom, droplets of water still coating him.

He tried to be as quiet as possible when closing the bathroom door as not to disturb you.

From the hallway he could see you sat on the couch, a bowl of cereal to your right, textbooks and pencils to your left.

You were studying with soft music trilling in the background, your glasses hung low on the bridge of your nose and your curly hair sprawled out.

Armando felt frozen in time as he observed you.

He hadn’t the slightest clue who your mother was or what she looked like, or the story between her and your father.

But from what he could see, you did look somewhat like Mike. Your brown eyes, thick, dark hair, warm brown skin and rotund face.

The only thing missing was his height, really.

Armando continued to watch as you turned a page in your text book, “you know staring isn’t polite, right?” You said, not looking up from your studies.

Armando coughed, adjusting himself. “I wasn’t staring.” He lied.

“Okay.” You roll your eyes. “Sure.”

“Why would I be staring at you?’ Armando trudged on.

You raised a brow, snatching off your glasses. “I don’t know, you tell me? Perhaps you’re planning to drug me again.”

Armando huffed. “Trust me, princesa, if I wanted to do anything to you, I’d have done it already.”

You look up at him, your eyes widening and your mouth opening and closing like a fish. “That’s not comforting…at all.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Armando reassured again, a pang tugging in his chest.

You didn’t trust…and some part of him felt the same about you. What was to stop you from calling the cops on him right now? Especially since Mike dumped him on you without so much as an explanation.

But in another breath it somehow hurt that you didn’t trust him. Wasn’t that part of being an older brother, trusting that he’d never hurt you?

“Why, because we’re family?” You question.

Armando frowned at that word, his nose scrunching. “No,’ his next words were slow to come out. “Because you’re not worth it.”

You scoff, gathering your things. “Wow.”

Armando watches you gather all your study materials in a haste, not sparing him anything more than a cold shoulder.

“Have whatever you’d like,’ you brush past him. “Because you're right, I'm not worth it, to anyone.” You slam your bedroom door in his face, leaving Armando with his thoughts.

Armando threw his head back with a sigh before gathering the clothes you had laid out for him and slipping them on.

Of course they hardly fit.

But that was the least of his worries right now.

The FBI was undoubtedly after him, he had wounds all over his body, he was shaking with his long-lost little sister who hates him, and he hasn’t the slightest clue when he’d be free from all this.

All the lies.

All the trauma.

All the pain.

It be a miracle if he could shake it all.

You force captures his attention, washing over his thoughts and beckoning him towards your door.

Armando leans against the wood, getting a better shot of your conversation.

“Dad?” You whisper.

“Babygirl, are you okay?” Mike asks.

“Am I okay?’ You scoff. “No I’m not okay! You completely violated my privacy by sending him here, not to mention I had his literal blood on his hands and I’m complicit in a fucking crime!”

“Hey! Watch your mouth.” Mike said, sternly.

“Really, my language is your biggest concern right now? Not the fact that you are the one who’s being disrespectful by going behind my back and brining him here!”

Armando winced at the conviction in your voice, you really didn’t like him. And if he was honest, you had no reason too.

Mike was silent for a beat before he responded. “You’re right.” He sighed. “I was just trying to do right by him. Do you know how it feels, having missed out on nearly thirty years of his life, knowing he was lied to and mislead?”

“No, I don’t. But I know how it feels to be thrust into an impossible situation just to make everyone else feel better.’ You sniffled. “I mean dad, I get that he’s your son…but I’m your daughter, and you could have at least taken into consideration how much this sucks for me too! Or even the fact that I’m fucking terrified of him!”

Mike sighs. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“If you know, why couldn’t he have stayed with you and Christine?”

“It would have to much of a risk for us.”

Armando jumps at the sound of something crashing behind the door. “What about me! Do you even care about how I fucking feel!”

“I do baby girl!”

“No you don’t, ever since you found out he was your son, you’ve been obsessed with redeeming him because of your own fucking guilt. So much to the point where you’ve put me in the backseat!”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is,’ you growl. “It was him, then Christine, Callie and Judie, and I just fall wherever else. If you feel all this guilt for all these people, you should have at least saved some for me.”

“Why would I save guilt for you, huh?” Mike said, clearly getting angry now.

“You know what,’ you took a deep breath. “I really hope your find a home for your murderous, bastard son soon, because I’m done being the pile you load all your shit on.”

“Don’t—,”

The line when dead before Mike could let out another word.

Armando swallows the last of your words a sharper knife than any he'd ever been stabbed with.

And maybe it wasn't exactly your words that hurt but the fact that you hadn't been lying.

Mike had been obbssesed non-stop with finding the good in all the bad things he'd done, like finding a shining diamond in a dirty, muddied pond; a miracle and an impossibilty.

Instead, he should have been focused on mending the fallout his actions left the both of you, in particular you.

Armando almost felt bad for you.

No, he did feel bad for you.

You were only seventeen when he kidnapped you, he and his mother threatening your life several times, only for you to find out it was all over a lie.

One big, fat fucking lie.

And instead of your father being there for you, shielding you from your greatest trauma, he exploited it by bringing Armando here.

It hit him then, maybe it wasn't hurt he felt when it came to you...maybe it was empathy.

He knew exactly how you felt.

Being exploited by a parent sucked, let alone two.

Armando wasn't sure what came over him, but he found himself knocking on your bedroom door.

It took a few minutes, but eventually you opened up the door.

Your brown eyes were swollen with tears and your bed was a clear mess of fustration and anger.

"I'm not apologizing for anything I said."

"I'm not asking you to."

"What do you want?"

"To apologize.' He swallowed.

You let out a low, sad chuckle. "For what?"

"I don't really know yet, maybe because I know no one's said it to you yet." He admits. "And if anything, you and I both deserve it."

Armando watches you straighten. "And why's that?"

"Because our parents suck."

You shrug. "That's true."

"So, I'm sorry."

"For our parents sucking?"

"Yes...no, I don't know. Look, I just don't want us to hate each other."

"I don't hate you." You say, using your feet to play with the hem of your pants.

"It sounded like you did back there." Armando nods to your cellphone.

"I was upset....I didn't think you'd hear all that."

"You were pretty loud."

"Well it is my house, and you did break in...so."

Armando sighs, "Touché."

"So now what?" You say.

"What?"

"You just say sorry and then what? Do we act like some happy family or do we skate around each other?"

"Up to you."

You sigh, playing with your nailbeds.

"Do you like ramen?" You eventually ask.

Armando shurgs. "I've had worse."

You leave your room. "I'll take that as a yes."

It wasn't much, but at least you were sitting across from him, enjoying a bowl of spicy ramen instead cowering away in fear.

For a moment, Amrando could actually enjoy some peace, a little calm before the storm.

He never imagined it be with the sister he never knew he had.

Life is really...something.

#fanfiction #armando aretas #bad boys for life #armando aretas x reader #jacob scipio #armando and mike #mike #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #bad boys ride or die

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hyper-trash-panda · 2 months ago

Text

Bad Boys — Legacy

Pt 2/?

Warnings: Blood, violence, cursing

Rated R

Chile, I’m over here bootlegging the Bad Boys movies trying to make gifs 😆😆

The clink of silverware against plates echoed through the dining room. The smell of smothered chicken and roasted vegetables filled the air, but the usual warmth of Theresa's cooking were overshadowed by the heaviness that had settled over the table.

Marcus, sitting at the head, glanced around the table, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took a bite from his fork. To his right, Theresa meticulously adjusted her napkin, her lips pressed into a thin line, betraying her discomfort. Next to her, their daughter picked at her food, her usual chatter replaced by an uncharacteristic silence. Reggie was focused on his plate, completely unhindered as he scarfed down every bite. Marcus grimaced.

Mike, sitting to Marcus' left, was still; his fork hovering over his plate as he stole glances towards Valerie. She sat beside him, her smile polite but strained. The air between Mike and Armando, who sat beside Valerie, was charged with unspoken words. Armando's jaw was tight, his eyes flicking between his father and his fiancée, the muscles in his neck taut.

From the living room, the sound of the kids' cartoons provided a distant, cheerful contrast to the uncomfortable quiet at the table, but it only seemed to deepen the discomfort in the dining room.

The scrape of Marcus' chair against the floor as he leaned back to take a sip of water seemed louder than it should have. An awkward, "Sorry." Left his lips before silence overtook the table once more.

Theresa cleared her throat softly. "So, Valerie," she began, her tone warm but slightly forced, "how was your flight?"

Valerie, mid-sip of her water, swallowed quickly, her eyes widening in brief surprise. "Oh, um, it was good," she replied, her voice steadying as she placed her glass back on the table. "It's only a two hour flight from the Dominican Republic, but it was hard leaving my kids."

Mike perked up. “You got kids?"

"In a sense," Valerie admitted, "I'm a school teacher."

Megan's eyes lit up, a spark of enthusiasm breaking through the tension. "Really?," she said, leaning in. "I'm actually working on my master's right now to teach English. What grade do you teach?"

Valerie turned to Megan, her expression brightening. "It's a small district, so we don't really have grade levels. I teach kids from about six to ten years old."

"Oh, those are the fun ages, I should know," said Megan, eyes gesturing to her brood in the next room. "What do you teach?"

"Science," Valerie answered, her smile widening. "My degree is in chemistry, but I also teach them astronomy, earth science, physics, the general basics."

As she spoke, Valerie's eyes drifted to Armando; his arm rested protectively along the back of her chair as he leaned back, picking at his plate. Sensing her gaze, Armando glanced at her and then straightened up, his posture shifting as if already anticipating what she was about to say.

"Actually, that's how I met Armando," Valerie added.

Armando's eyes softened, his usually guarded expression easing for a moment as their eyes met. If one were to squint hard enough, they might believe him to be smiling back.

Marcus interjected with a smirk. "Well don't leave us in suspense, Valerie. I've got to know who managed to melt the warlock baby's heart."

Before anyone could react, Mike's foot shot out under the table, landing a swift kick to Marcus' shin. Marcus winced, but the pain went unacknowledged by everyone else at the table.

"Well," Valerie began, her voice gentle as she thought back, "I was teaching my kids about the rock cycle at the time. My home is set near a small dock, so I was walking along the shore collecting rocks when I noticed a boat floating out in the distance."

Valerie paused, her brow furrowing slightly at the memory. "At first, I didn't think much of it—there are fishermen who pass by all the time—but the person inside this boat wasn't moving, and it gave me an eerie feeling."

The table was silent, everyone leaning in a little closer as Valerie continued. "I got my neighbor, who owns a boat, we set out to check on it. That's when we found Armando. He—um—" Valerie paused, taking in the audience, realizing some of the finer details to be inappropriate, "Wasn't in the best condition. We got him to shore and set him up in my spare room. I spent the next two days helping him through a fever, rehydrating him, and sewing up his wounds until he was strong enough to leave."

Theresa, her eyes twinkling, cut in with a knowing smile. "Well, clearly, he didn't, did he?" she teased, glancing at the engagement ring on Valerie's finger.

Armando picked up the story, his voice steady. "Val got me a job working maintenance for the school. It gave me time to find a fresh start. It was honest work, something I needed."

Valerie nodded. "It took two years, but eventually, Armando proposed." She smiled softly, the memory still fresh in her mind. "And, well, here we are."

Marcus grinned, "Ain't that something," he said, his voice warm. "Congratulations, you two." He nodded approvingly as he noticed Armando's arm had moved from resting behind Valerie's chair to holding her hand on the table.

Mike, who had been quiet, focused on the ring on Valerie's finger. It was a simple design—a double gold band encasing a half-line of small stones. Mike knew that with the kind of money Armando's former cartel life would’ve have afforded him, he could've easily bought something far more extravagant. But this ring, it was a testament to Armando's honest work, to the new life he was trying to build. Mike felt a swell of pride for his son.

Just as Mike was lost in thought, Megan broke the silence with a playful tone. "So, when's the big day?"

Valerie started to answer, "We've decided to wait until Armando joined—"

But before she could finish, Armando interjected smoothly, his voice firm. "Until I've fulfilled my contract with Miami PD," he said, his words carefully chosen.

Valerie blinked, momentarily confused by the shift in their story, but before she could question him, the simultaneous ringing of both Mike and Marcus' phones cut through the room. They exchanged a look, already knowing what it meant.

"Duty calls," Marcus muttered, already pushing back his chair as Mike did the same. Marcus leaned down to kiss Theresa on the cheek, then turned to Megan, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Take care, alright?" he said before turning to Reggie.

"Let’s move," Marcus ordered.

Reggie stood up immediately. "Yes, sir." he replied with a nod, wiping gravy from his lip. He then turned to Megan, his expression softening as he leaned in and gave her a tender kiss before following his father-in-law.

Mike turned to Theresa as he grabbed his jacket. "Dinner was amazing, Tee. I'm coming back for them leftovers."

Theresa smiled, already heading to the kitchen. "I'll pack some up for you."

As Mike headed toward the door, he looked back at Armando, who was still seated, clearly conflicted. "Armando, you're coming with us," Mike said, his voice carrying a hint of expectation.

Armando hesitated, his gaze shifting from his father to Valerie, who looked at him with a mix of confusion and concern. He didn't want to leave her without explaining, but he knew he had to go.

Leaning in close to Valerie, he spoke softly, "Hablamos después, ¿sí?" *we'll talk later, okay?* His voice was firm but gentle before giving her a quick, reassuring peck on the lips.

Valerie nodded, though the worry in her eyes remained. She watched as Armando rose from the table, his movements deliberate as he joined Mike, Marcus, and Reggie at the door.

Eclipse was a far cry from its usual scene. The neon lights that once pulsed in sync with the deafening beats of the music were replaced by harsh, clinical overhead lights that washed the space in sterile white. There was no music now, only the mechanical rhythm of camera shutters and the soft thud of boots across the slick, glossy floor. Crime scene tape flapped gently in the artificially chilled air, marking off areas that had been vibrant just hours ago but now lay in silence, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of a body bag being zipped up.

Forensics teams combed through the wreckage of the night, dusting for prints, collecting fibers, and snapping close-ups of every bloodstain. Detectives huddled in quiet conversation, their voices low, while uniformed officers kept curious onlookers at bay outside. A few clubgoers who hadn't made it out before the chaos were lined up against a wall, their once-carefree expressions now replaced with shock and confusion.

The hum of an Porsche 911 rolled up to the scene, its tires barely making a sound as it came to a smooth stop just beyond the tape. From the driver's seat, Mike stepped out, his crisp black shirt catching the glint of the overhead lights. Beside him, Marcus followed, already tugging at his shirt collar like the tension of the scene had wrapped itself around his neck. Reggie hopped out of the back, eyes wide, taking in the grim scene. Last out was Armando, his posture cool, but his sharp gaze sweeping over the mess in front of them.

The four moved as a unit, heading toward the yellow tape that separated them from the chaos. Mike led the way, his badge flashing like a beacon in the dim light as he approached the officer guarding the entrance. Without a word, the officer lifted the tape for him, nodding in recognition as Mike passed. Marcus followed, flashing his own badge. Reggie was next, getting a quick nod from the officer who had seen him enough times to know he was with them. But as Armando reached for the tape, the officer stepped in front of him.

"Whoa, hold up. Where's your badge?"

Armando didn't flinch, but his jaw tightened slightly as he glanced at Mike. Before he could say anything, Mike stepped back, his usual cocky grin in place as he clapped a hand on the officer's shoulder.

"He's with us. AMMO consultant," Mike said, his voice leaving no room for argument. The officer hesitated for only a second, then gave a quick nod, lifting the tape higher for Armando to pass through.

"Gracias," Armando said, his voice cool and even as he followed Mike and the others toward the center of the club.

They made their way through the scene, weaving past clusters of investigators, toward Kelly, who stood over a body in the middle of the dance floor. Her gloved hands rested on her hips and sharp eyes scanning the evidence in front of her like a puzzle that hadn't yet revealed all its pieces. She didn't look up when the group approached but spoke, her tone matter-of-fact.

"Took you long enough," Kelly muttered, finally turning to face them, her gaze locking on Mike and Marcus. "You're not gonna like this one."

Marcus tugged on his gloves, flexing his fingers as he glanced over at the body Kelly stood over. "Who we looking at?" he asked, his tone casual. Mike, following suit with his own gloves, gave the body a quick glance before focusing on Kelly.

"ID says Maddison Harrison, age twenty-two," Kelly started, but the flatness in her voice gave away the truth. "Dorn ran facial recognition. Real age is sixteen."

Marcus grimaced, his usual bravado slipping for a moment as the reality of the situation hit him. "Sixteen? What the hell's a kid doing in a place like this?"

Kelly handed the fake ID to Mike, her jaw tight. "Good question. And she's not the only one. Found the same quality ID on two other bodies over at the booth." Her eyes flicked toward the far corner of the club, where another pair of black body bags lay zipped up, waiting for the morgue to claim them. "Same story, both kids."

Mike turned the ID over in his hand, barely needing a second glance to recognize the poor craftsmanship. "Who's the genius letting a bunch of kids in with this shit?"

Before Kelly could answer, Dorn approached, tablet in hand. His sudden presence made Kelly stiffen, her posture visibly more rigid, but Dorn didn't seem to notice—or he pretended not to. "The bouncer. He was distracted by a fight that broke out just as the kids were coming in. He let them slide so he could deal with the guys throwing punches."

Mike exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Hell of a time to drop the ball."

"Bouncer remembered the two boys at the booth," Dorn continued, tapping on his tablet to pull up more info. "Said they came in with their dates. Names were Tyler James and Zachery Harris, both seventeen."

Marcus sighed, the weight of it all getting heavier by the second. He crouched down next to the body bag, reaching for the zipper. "Let's see what we're dealing with."

Mike's brow furrowed, and he stepped closer. "Marcus, don't-"

But Marcus ignored him. With a quick, sharp pull, he unzipped the body bag and uncovered the face of the girl. What he saw made him jerk back instantly, swearing under his breath. The teenager was streaked with dried blood that had poured from her eyes, nose, and ears, her expression frozen in a final moment of agony.

Mike, used to his partner's squeamishness after all these years, shot him an irritated glance. "Seriously? After everything we've seen, you still can't handle it?"

"Man, shut up," Marcus snapped back, holding his hand up defensively as he gathered himself. "It's gotta be Helios. Only that nasty shit does this."

Reggie, who had been lingering nearby, furrowed his brow. "Helios? What's that?"

Mike crossed his arms, glancing at the bodies being wheeled away. "Its a new drug. Fucked up shit. Started out west, moving its way east. In the last six months, it's been tearing through the southern coast from Louisiana to here. More addictive than heroin, deadlier than fentanyl."

Kelly picked up where Mike left off, her voice clipped and precise. "It's potent. A little too much, and your body goes into overdrive. By the time you know something's wrong, it's too late."

Dorn, still holding his tablet, added, "Gets its name from the warm feeling it gives you. Like you're being hugged by the sun."

Kelly snorted softly, the sound bitter. "Yeah, but it's more like being roasted alive. Burns you from the inside out."

Marcus, having regained his composure, stood up, though his face was still pale. "Helios literally melts your brain. Cooks you. Blood comes out of everything-nose, eyes, ears. Fucks up everything."

He gagged, clearly visualizing the horror in too much detail, and had to cover his mouth. Mike shot him another annoyed look. "Come on, man?"

"I'm good, I'm good," Marcus muttered, waving him off.

Reggie, his eyes drifting toward the row of body bags being taken out by the forensic teams, swallowed hard. "All of this... was because of overdoses?"

The silence that followed was heavier than any answer. Mike and Marcus exchanged a glance, the weight of it unspoken but shared. Kelly turned back to the body at her feet, her jaw clenched, while Dorn stood by, still tapping through files on his tablet before clearing his throat, "Well, there's some good news. We've got one survivor." He tapped on his tablet for a moment before holding it out to show a picture of a teenage girl with bright eyes and a wide smile, frozen in a moment of happier times. "Hannah Davis. She was rushed to the hospital. Unresponsive, but showing signs of life. Her mother's on her way there now."

Marcus, still shaken from the gruesome sight, glanced at the photo with some relief. "That's something, I guess."

"Yeah, but she won't be ready for questioning until tomorrow," Dorn added, lowering the tablet. "Docs need to stabilize her first."

Mike nodded, his gaze shifting toward Armando, who had been standing silently on the edge of the group, his sharp eyes taking everything in but saying little. "What about you, man? You know anything about this Helios stuff?"

All eyes turned to Armando. He shifted slightly but remained composed, meeting their stares without flinching. "Not much experience with it personally," he admitted. "But my mother buying a batch a few years ago. Back when it was still in its testing phases."

Marcus, leaning against one of the club's broken-down tables, raised an eyebrow. "What was it like back then? Anything like this?"

Armando shook his head. "Weak. Barely gave a buzz. Nowhere near lethal. It was sloppy, low-grade. I didn't think much of it."

Marcus let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Times have changed. This shit now—it's evolved."

Mike crossed his arms, his mind already working on the next step. "You remember who was selling it back then? Might give us a lead."

Armando paused, thinking back, before finally answering. "No clue which gang it came from. My mother handled most of the deals. But I picked it up from a man named Rojas in Mexico City."

Mike exchanged a look with Marcus before turning back to Dorn. "Look into it. Find out everything you can on this Rojas."

Dorn gave a quick nod, already typing away on his tablet as he walked off, disappearing into the maze of flashing cameras and bustling investigators. Kelly watched him leave, a tension settling over her that didn't go unnoticed by Mike. He stepped toward her, voice low, his concern clear. "You good?"

Kelly blinked, snapping back to the present. She gave a tight smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just... gotta help bag evidence." She turned quickly, heading toward one of the forensics teams before anyone could push the question further.

Mike's eyes followed her for a moment, his brows knitting together in thought before he let it go. He turned back to Marcus, who was now pulling off his gloves with a sigh.

"Looks like we'll be stopping by the hospital in the morning," Marcus said. "Hannah's the only witness we've got." He tossed his gloves into a nearby bin. "If she makes it. Who knows how much of her brain was fried from this shit."

The two stood in silence for a moment, the flashing lights and hum of the crime scene continuing around them, as the weight of what was ahead settled in.

The warehouse loomed in the shadows, hidden behind a strip of rotting dockyards on the outskirts of Miami. Once a bustling center for trade, it now stood as a crumbling monument to neglect. Its corrugated steel walls were rusted, streaked with years of saltwater spray from the nearby bay. Weeds and wild grasses had forced their way through the cracks in the concrete, their jagged edges curling around broken pallets and abandoned shipping containers. A cracked neon sign, long since burned out, clung to the roof by a single bolt, creaking in the wind like the last whisper of something forgotten.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of chemicals and mildew. The interior, gutted from years of decay, had been crudely transformed into an underworld den. Makeshift tables lined the walls, strewn with plastic tubs and half-empty bottles of unknown liquids. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting the room in a sickly yellow glow that made everything look like it was drenched in oil. The floor was sticky, littered with cigarette butts, empty fast-food bags, and discarded needles.

In the far corner, near a stack of dented metal drums, a group of men worked silently, mixing powders with practiced hands. They wore torn tank tops and bandanas over their faces, their eyes dull and focused on the tasks in front of them. A radio, perched on a filthy crate, hummed out muffled Spanish music, its static blending with the low hum of machines churning in the background. Beyond them, a staircase rose up to a second-floor office. The steps were rusted, each one groaning underfoot as if they might collapse at any moment. Their railings, once painted red, were now chipped and peeling, revealing raw iron beneath. The stairs led up to a large glass window, cracked but still intact, through which the shadow of a man could be seen.

At the bottom of the stairs, a hulking figure emerged from the shadows. His body filled the space, almost too large for the narrow corridor leading to the staircase. Alejandro’s heavy boots thudded against the floor as he moved, the sound cutting through the murmur of the workers and the hum of machinery.

He reached the bottom of the rusted staircase, paused for a moment, and then ascended. Each step groaned beneath his weight, and the metal beneath his boots seemed to scream in protest. His eyes, dark and unyielding, flicked toward the window of the office above. The dim light reflected off the cracked glass, but he could still see the figure inside waiting for him.

Reaching the top, Alejandro stopped in front of a door, its once-white paint chipped and faded to a dull gray. He didn't bother to knock. He shoved the door open with a grunt, the hinges squealing in protest.

Inside, the office was surprisingly neat compared to the chaos below. The furniture was sparse but modern, a sleek black desk with polished edges, two leather chairs positioned neatly in front of it. Behind the desk stood a man with slick black hair, combed back so sharply it looked like it had been painted onto his scalp. He wore a black button-up shirt, its sleeves rolled up to reveal smooth, tanned forearms. His expression was calm, almost bored, as he turned to face Alejandro.

The man with the slick hair raised an eyebrow, awaiting an explanation that brought Alejandro to his office. He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands together on the desk in front of him, his eyes sharp and calculating. Behind him, a large map of Miami was pinned to the wall, red pins marking locations across the city. A small, gold-plated revolver sat on the desk next to a half-empty glass of whiskey, glistening under the dim light of a single bulb hanging from the ceiling.

Alejandro’s eyes flicked to the gun before meeting the man's gaze again, shifting on his feet. He ran a hand over the tattoos snaking up his forearm before speaking, “That girl," he said, his voice low. "She survived. They've got her at Mercy. Cops all over it."

The man behind the desk didn't flinch. His expression remained unreadable as he stared out the window, watching the silent hum of activity below.

"I see."

Alejandro nodded, though his face remained stone cold. The man picked up his glass of whiskey, swirling the amber liquid inside. "I trust you won't disappoint me, Alejandro," he said, his tone soft but laced with menace.

Alejandro cracked his knuckles, a slow, deliberate sound that filled the silence between them. "I never do."

The man's smile widened just a fraction, his eyes gleaming. "That's what I like to hear." The man gave the slightest tilt of his head, a shadow of a smile ghosting across his lips. “Prepare everything for the morning."

Alejandro's eyes narrowed, his face hardened with understanding.

The headlights of Mike's Porsche cut through the quiet suburban street as they pulled into Marcus's driveway. The hum of the engine faded into the stillness of the night as Mike killed the ignition, but the tension in the car remained thick.

Marcus opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air. The others followed suit, the tension still hanging over them as they approached the front door. Theresa stood waiting, framed by the warm glow of the porch light. Beside her, Valerie stood, her arms crossed and expression unreadable.

"Hey, baby," Theresa greeted Marcus softly, her arms wrapping around him in a comforting hug. She pulled back, studying his face. "You okay?"

"Real bad scene out there." Marcus muttered, running a hand over his face.

Theresa's brow furrowed with concern. "What happened?"

Marcus shook his head, his voice low and tired. "Kids, T. Three teenagers. Overdosed right on the floor of that club. All three gone before we even got there."

Theresa's hand instinctively squeezed Marcus's arm, a soft gasp escaping her lips. "Oh my God..." She knew how much it tore him apart to see kids caught up in the darkness of drugs and crime.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her thumb rubbing small circles on his arm.

Marcus nodded, his jaw tight as he forced the images away.

Reggie cleared his throat and gave a quick nod toward the house. "Where's Megan and the kids?" he asked, looking over at Theresa.

"They're in the back room," Theresa said, her voice soft but steady. "I'm sure they're ready to head out."

Reggie nodded gratefully and disappeared down the hall, eager to see his family and escape the weight of the day.

While Theresa comforted Marcus, Armando drifted toward Valerie. She stood stiffly, her arms still crossed, avoiding eye contact. He stepped closer, hesitating for a moment before wrapping his arms around her. The embrace was tentative, but there was no warmth in her response. She barely moved, her body cold against his.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low and careful.

Valerie pulled back slightly, her expression distant. "Fine," she replied, her tone clipped. "What’s the case?"

Armando frowned, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "That's not what we need to talk about," he said, keeping his voice steady. "I don't wanna keep dodging this, Vee.“

Valerie sighed, rubbing her temple. "Armando, I'm not doing this tonight. I just got off a long flight."

His patience, already thin from the night's events, was wearing even thinner. "Val—"

Before he could press any further, she cut him off, glancing at the yellow suitcase by the door. "I'm staying at a hotel.”

The words hit him harder than he expected. The distance between them felt more than physical now, and the coolness in her voice made his chest tighten. Mike, Marcus, and Theresa, caught in their own conversation, suddenly fell silent as Valerie's statement hung in the air.

Armando turned to her, trying to mask his frustration, though the edge in his voice was hard to miss. "That's fine," he muttered, "I'll go get my stuff."

Before he could move, Mike spoke up, his voice casual but firm. "Hey, hold up. You cant do that, man. You're still under contract to stay here at Marcus' house."

Armando shot him a look, but the reality of his situation left no room for argument. With a quiet sigh, he glanced at her, searching for some kind of compromise.

Theresa, sensing the tension and trying to defuse the situation, stepped forward. "Valerie, really, it's no trouble. You can stay here with us if you want. You don't have to go to a hotel."

Valerie gave her a tight smile, polite but firm. "Thanks, Theresa, but I've already called a ride. They're pulling up now.“

True to her observation, a dark, four door sedan pulled up to the curb. Armando clenched his jaw as he grabbed her yellow suitcase. "I'll walk you out," he said quietly.

Valerie gave a small nod and thanked Theresa again before heading down the pathway. Armando followed closely behind, his frustration mounting with every step.

The night air was cool and still. The soft hum of the idling car was the only sound as they approached. Armando opened the backseat door, and Valerie slid in without a word. He handed her suitcase to the driver and then stepped over to her window as it rolled down.

His voice softened, almost pleading. "Text me when you get there, okay?“

Valerie met his gaze, her expression softer now but still guarded. "I will." She paused, hesitating before adding, "Maybe we can talk tomorrow. Meet up for lunch?"

Armando nodded, a flicker of hope in his chest. "Yeah, come by the station. We can grab something."

Valerie gave a small nod and leaned forward, placing a brief kiss on his cheek. It was quick, more of a gesture than anything intimate, but it left Armando feeling both grateful and hollow at the same time.

He watched as the car pulled away, the taillights fading into the night. The silence settled back over the street, heavier than before. After a long moment, Armando turned and walked back toward the house, the weight of the day pressing down on him.

Mike stepped out of his car; the late evening breeze carrying the scent of saltwater as it drifted up from the bay. His bachelor pad, perched on the edge of Miami's waterfront, stood like a modern fortress of glass and steel. The house was all sharp lines and wide windows, the city's skyline reflecting off the shimmering surface of the infinity pool out back. Inside, dim lights spilled out, casting a soft glow over the manicured steps that led to the front door.

Balancing a container of leftover smothered chicken in one hand and a stack of mail in the other, Mike felt a flicker of recognition at the car parked in his driveway. The Mustang. His lips twitched into a smile. As he stepped through the front door, the comforting hum of home washed over him—the quiet thrum of the air conditioning, the faint sound of the water lapping against the shore. But it was the sight on his couch that really brought the warmth.

Rita, dressed in one of his crisp, white button-downs and a pair of black leggings, was comfortably sprawled out on the couch, chopsticks in hand as she deftly twirled noodles into a bite. The Chinese takeout box balanced on her lap, its open top revealing their favorite order from a spot they hit up way too often.

She paused mid-bite, her eyes darting to him as he entered. "Yours is on the counter," she said with a grin, swallowing her mouthful.

Mike set the leftovers and the mail down on the kitchen island, his gaze catching the familiar red and gold logo of their usual spot. "Damn, you didn't wait for me?" he teased, crossing the room with easy strides.

Rita chuckled, shifting slightly on the couch to make room. "You know I can't resist their noodles."

He leaned down, brushing a kiss against her cheek, the soft scent of her perfume mingling with the savory aroma of takeout. "Good to know I'm not the only thing you can't resist," he murmured, his voice low with amusement.

Rita rolled her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Please, you're not that irresistible," she shot back, her tone laced with mock exasperation. Mike chuckled as he shrugged off his leather jacket, draping it over the arm of the adjacent couch. The light scent of leather and his cologne lingered in the air as he headed toward the kitchen, flipping open the stainless steel fridge.

"I already ate, by the way," he called over his shoulder. "Marcus had me over for dinner."

Rita raised an eyebrow and followed him, curiosity piqued. "Oh yeah? What did Theresa cook this time?"

Mike turned around, one hand rummaging through the fridge while the other held up the plastic bag of Tupperware with the leftovers. "Smothered chicken," he said with a grin, waving the container slightly as proof.

Rita's eyes widened as she groaned dramatically, resting her hand on the kitchen counter. "Did she use the special gravy?"

Mike gave her a knowing look and nodded. "The one and only."

"You should've brought me some!" Rita half-pouted, stepping closer.

Mike laughed as he began placing the takeout box inside the fridge. But before he could close the door, Rita reached for the container in his hand, making a play for the coveted leftovers.

"Oh no, you don't," Mike said, swatting her hand away as she grinned mischievously. "Woman, don’t you touch my chicken."

Rita threw her hands up in surrender, eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're really going to be greedy like that?"

"Hell yeah," Mike quipped, slipping the container safely onto a shelf. "You've got your noodles. This right here"—he tapped the fridge door for emphasis—"is sacred territory."

Rita chuckled, leaning back against the counter. "You're lucky Theresa's food is worth it. Next time, though, I'm claiming first dibs."

Mike leaned forward, resting both hands on the edge of the counter, his dark eyes locking onto Rita's as he absentmindedly fiddled with the buttons of his shirt she wore. The playful tension between them simmered down, replaced by something heavier. "You know," he began, his voice quieter, "if Theresa knew you and I were together, she might’ve packed enough for both of us."

Rita's sigh was almost immediate. She straightened up, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she avoided his gaze. This wasn't the first time he'd brought it up, and she knew where this was going.

"Michael—"

"Nah, don't do that." He shook his head, cutting her off. "It's been almost a year, Rita. A year since we got together, and it's still a secret." His words were firm but not angry, like he was trying to understand, to make her see his side.

Rita closed her eyes for a moment, frustration bubbling up inside her. "We've already had this discussion," she muttered, her tone clipped as she pushed away from the counter.

"We haven't, though," Mike countered, following her movement with his eyes, his voice rising a little. "Every time we try to talk about it, you change the subject or dodge the question. You’re it doing right now."

She turned to face him, her frustration evident in the way her lips pressed into a thin line. "Michael, it's not as simple as you make it sound.“ said Rita as she made her way back to her spot on the couch, wanting the conversation to end.

Mike exhaled, following her movements as they stood by the window. "I'm not saying it's simple. I get that. But we're not just coworkers, Rita. We're… this is more than that."

"And that's exactly the problem," she shot back, pacing now, her voice tight with the weight of what she was trying to say. "I am your captain. The moment people know about us, they'll start questioning everything. Whether I can make unbiased calls, whether I'm doing my job because it's right or because of you."

Mike ran a hand over his face, trying to keep his cool. He knew she was right, but it didn't make it any easier. "I just don't want to keep hiding," he said, his voice softer now. "I don't want to feel like we're sneaking around, like we're doing something wrong."

Rita paused, her back to him for a moment before she finally turned around, her expression softening just a bit. "I don't want that either. But you know how this works. We don't get to have it both ways. And I can't risk everything I've worked for—everything we've worked for—just because we're... together."

Mike let out a long breath, the tension between them hanging thick in the air. "Alright, I'll drop it," he muttered, stepping back.

Rita glanced at him, sensing they both needed a shift. "Since we're already talking work," she began, her voice lighter but still carrying the weight of their jobs, "how was the crime scene? The one you went to tonight."

Mike took a seat on the adjacent sofa to Rita, his arms spreading out across the back, "Seven bodies. All overdosed on Helios. Three of them were underage kids. One of 'em survived, though. She's in the hospital right now, barely hanging on."

Rita nodded, her arms coming to cross over her chest as she crossed her legs on the couch, “Helios is spreading fast. And with this many bodies, someone's got to be moving a lot of it. You know Ernesto Vargas, right? Cuban gang leader?" Mike’s expression tightened as Rita continued, “His body was found this morning at the docks. Him and several of his guys. Shot to hell."

Mike raised an eyebrow. "Do you know who did it?"

Rita shook her head. "We're still piecing it together. No witnesses, no clear leads. All we know is it was a bust—there was a bag of money left at the scene, untouched. No product.”

Mike crossed his arms, the wheels turning in his mind. "You think it's connected to the nightclub case?"

Rita sighed. "That's the theory. The timelines match up too perfectly. Vargas was a known distributor of Helios and he dies the same day we've got seven OD cases from that same drug. It's too big of a coincidence."

Mike nodded, his expression hardening. "Tomorrow, me, Marcus, Reggie, and Armando are heading to the hospital. See if that witness knows anything that can help us get a lead."

Rita's lips pressed into a line as she considered that. "How's Armando settling in?"

"He's doing alright," Mike replied, though there was something off in his tone. "He gave us a solid lead on someone in the Helios distribution line. Dorn is looking into it"

Rita studied him closely, her sharp instincts kicking in. “That's good news," she said slowly. "But you don't seem thrilled. What's bothering you?"

Mike exhaled, leaning forward. "It's not the intel. Armando's sharp, and he's been pulling his weight." He looked away for a moment, his frustration creeping back in. "It's just... he's got a whole fiancée. Showed up at Marcus' place tonight."

Rita's eyebrows shot up. "A fiancée? And you had no idea?"

"None," Mike said, shaking his head. "Two years and I didn't know a damn thing about it."

Rita's shock softened into confusion. "Is she connected to his past? To the cartel?"

Mike gave a small, bitter laugh. "No. He met her after the McGrath mission. When he was laying low in the Dominican Republic. Her name's Valerie. She nursed him back to health, gave him a place to stay while we were negotiating his deal with the DA."

Rita took a deep breath, processing the new information.

Mike's voice grew quieter, his frustration giving way to something more vulnerable. "I'm his father, Rita. We're supposed to be building something here, and he's still keeping shit like this from me."

Rita moved from her place to sit beside him, her voice softening as she spoke. "Michael, you've both been through a lot. He's spent most of his life not knowing you. This isn't going to be easy for either of you, but he's here now. You're working together, and that's a start."

Mike nodded, but the frustration still lingered in his eyes. "I just thought by now... I don't know. I guess I hoped we'd be closer. That he'd trust me at least.”

Rita placed a hand on his arm. "Give it time. He's working with you, with AMMO. He's in the states now, which means you have a chance to build that relationship. It's not going to happen overnight, but it will happen."

The tension in Mike's shoulders slowly eased, and he gave Rita a small, appreciative smile. Rita gently squeezed his arm, sensing that he'd had enough of heavy conversations for one day. "Come on," she said softly, standing up and offering her hand. "It's late, and we've got a long day tomorrow."

Mike watched her for a moment before taking her hand and letting her lead him. He rubbed his face, trying to shake off the lingering frustrations and doubts as they reached his bedroom. Rita was already at the foot of the bed, pulling the covers back, her movements fluid and familiar. Mike watched her for a beat, appreciating the quiet routine they'd developed, even if it wasn't something he could show off to the world. Here, in the dim light of his home, it felt... real.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, revealing a bustling hospital corridor bathed in the unforgiving light of late morning. The scent of antiseptic and the quiet murmur of medical staff hit them immediately. Mike led the way, his crisp, tailored jacket cutting a sharp contrast against Marcus's more laid-back attire, while Reggie and Armando followed closely behind, their eyes scanning the sterile surroundings.

They approached the reception desk, where a nurse in light blue scrubs sat typing on a computer, her fingers moving with practiced precision. Mike, ever the charmer, leaned in slightly, flashing his badge with a brief smile.

"Miami PD. " he said, his voice smooth. "Can you tell us if Hannah Davis is able to answer a few questions?"

The nurse's fingers stilled, and she glanced up at the four men before her eyes settled on Mike. She exhaled softly, a shadow passing over her face.

"She's awake in room 324," the nurse said, her voice measured. "But... she's suffered severe damage to her brain." She paused, her gaze shifting slightly as if unsure of how much to reveal. "Her short-term memory has been... hindered."

Marcus, standing just behind Mike, frowned and stepped forward, his brow creasing in confusion. "What does that mean exactly?"

The nurse's eyes flicked to Marcus, her expression softening as she elaborated, "She's lost the ability to make new memories. She won't remember anything that's happened since the incident. Every few minutes, it resets."

A cold, heavy silence settled over the group. Marcus shifted uncomfortably, his usual humor drained from his face as he processed what the nurse was saying. A kid, just sixteen years old, stuck in a loop, her life paused indefinitely because of a drug overdose.

Mike nodded slowly, the gravity of the situation written in the tight set of his jaw. "Thank you," he said quietly, stepping back from the desk. The nurse gave them a sad, knowing look before returning to her screen.As they made their way down the hall, the weight of the news sat heavy on their shoulders.

Marcus stopped just outside the door, his hand on the handle, and glanced over his shoulder at Reggie and Armando. "Hey, y'all hang back. We don't want to overwhelm the girl with too many faces."

Reggie gave a small nod with a sharp, “Yes sir.”while Armando just shrugged, not taking it personally. They both found chairs along the wall in the hallway, Armando into them while Reggie took to standing.

With a quick exchange of looks, Mike and Marcus steeled themselves before entering the room. Inside, the soft hum of machines filled the space, and the sterile white walls were softened only by the presence of an older woman sitting at the bedside. She had dark hair streaked with silver and light eyes that glinted with fatigue and heartache. Beside her, a young girl lay propped up on pillows, her complexion glowing with youthful health that seemed at odds with the reality they had just been told. Hannah Davis looked like any other teenager, but the hollow space between who she had been yesterday and who she was now seemed to fill the room.

The two men greeted the woman, their voices quiet but professional.

"Ma'am, I'm Detective Mike Lowrey, this is Detective Marcus Burnett," Mike began.

The woman stood and offered her hand, her grip firm despite the tremble in her lip. "I'm Helan Davis. Hannah's mother."

Mike nodded, glancing over at Hannah. The girl's eyes flitted between the detectives and her mother, a nervous energy radiating from her. Marcus softened his stance a little.

"Mrs. Davis," Marcus began, "if you're okay with it, we'd like to ask Hannah a few things. We'll take it slow. If she needs a break at any time, just let us know."

Helan hesitated, looking down at her daughter, her fingers brushing lightly against Hannah's hand. "It's okay, honey," she said softly. "Just tell them what you can remember."

Mike stepped closer to Hannah's bedside. "Hannah, we just need to know what happened last night. Anything you remember can help us."

Hannah swallowed, her eyes darting to her mother, seeking permission or maybe forgiveness. When Helan nodded, Hannah looked back at Mike, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maddie... my friend... she wanted to go out with this guy from her Geometry class—Tyler."

Marcus raised a brow, waiting for her to continue. She paused, her eyes welling up with the weight of the truth.

"But Tyler didn’t want to go out unless Maddie found a date for his friend, Zach. So... Maddie asked me to go with them."

Marcus exchanged a look with Mike, both sensing the nerves in Hannah's words.

Hannah hesitated, glancing down at the blanket in her lap. "I thought we were just going to the movies." Her voice wavered. "But then... in the car... Maddie gave me a fake ID. She said we were going to sneak into a club."

Helan's jaw tightened, though she stayed silent, squeezing her daughter's hand.

Mike nodded, taking this in. "Do you know who gave you the fake IDs?"

Hannah shook her head. "Zach got them. From some guy at a gas station... in an alleyway."

Marcus cut in, his tone gentle. "Did you or Maddie plan to meet anyone at the club?"

"No," Hannah whispered, shaking her head again. "At least, not that I knew of."

Mike pressed forward, his voice soft. "What about the vape pen? Where'd you get that?"

Hannah hesitated again, looking back at her mother. Helan squeezed her hand tighter this time, offering a small nod of encouragement.

"Maddie... Maddie went up to a guy at another booth. She got the pen from him. The same guy Zach got his from." Her voice cracked, and her eyes brimmed with tears. She turned to her mother fully now, her voice breaking. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to—"

Helan wrapped her arms around her daughter, pulling her close as she started to cry. "Shh, honey. It's okay. We'll get through this," she whispered, her voice steady, though her eyes betrayed her fear.

Mike waited a beat before asking the final question. "Hannah, can you describe the guy Maddie talked to? The one with the vape pen?"

Hannah sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I never saw his face... but I remember he had wings."

"Wings?" Marcus asked, puzzled.

"Yeah," she nodded slowly, her voice distant, like she was trying to reach for the memory through fog. "Tattooed on his chest. They were... big, like angel wings."

Mike and Marcus exchanged a glance. It was a small detail, but one that could make all the difference. Mike nodded, taking a mental note of it.

Just then, Hannah turned to her mom again, her voice smaller this time. "Mom... I need to use the bathroom."

Helan nodded quickly, helping her daughter out of bed. Hannah stood shakily but managed to walk the short distance to the bathroom door on her own, closing it softly behind her.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Helan's composure shattered. Her body slumped as she pressed a hand to her face, choking back sobs that came in short, sharp gasps. Mike shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether to approach, while Marcus stood still, giving her a moment.

Helan's voice was choked with emotion as she spoke. "I just... I don't know what happened. I normally keep such close track of her. I'm always so careful. But with my husband away on his business trip—he hasn't answered a single call—and the workload piling up at the office... I thought she was fine. She's always been so independent. I never imagined..."

Marcus stepped forward, his tone comforting. "None of this is your fault, Mrs. Davis. Kids make mistakes, and sometimes things slip through the cracks. It's not a reflection of your parenting."

Helan's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and despair. "Not all kids end up dead or with their memory permanently damaged, Detective. It's not just a mistake. It's—" Her voice cracked, and she buried her face in her hands, sobs escaping despite her attempts to stifle them. “She'll never be the same, will she? She won't even remember this conversation in a few minutes."

The weight of that truth hung in the air, pulling all their hearts down with it.

Marcus cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. "We'll find the people responsible for this, Mrs. Davis. I promise you that."

Helan's eyes met his, searching for something—hope, maybe, or a reason to believe. She gave a small nod, wiping her tears away as best she could. Helan wiped her eyes, trying to pull herself together. "The doctors want to run a few more tests before they discharge her later today. They said it's important for Hannah to return to familiar surroundings to minimize her distress when her memory resets."

The weight of Helan's words settled heavily in the room. Mike and Marcus shared a solemn look.

"Mrs. Davis," Mike said gently, "we'll make sure to keep you updated on our progress. We're committed to finding the people responsible for this."

Helan nodded, her face pale but resolute. At that moment, the bathroom door opened, and Hannah emerged, her face fresh from washing up. She looked between her mother and the detectives, her confusion evident.

"Mom, who are they?" Hannah asked, her voice tentative.

Helan's face fell as she realized the implications. "They're detectives from Miami PD, sweetie. They were asking about last night."

The realization hit Mike and Marcus simultaneously. Hannah's memory had reset; the last twenty minutes had vanished from her mind as if they never happened.

The hallway was quiet, the kind of quiet that amplifies every small noise. Armando sat leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, arms crossed over his chest. Across from him, Reggie stood like a sentinel, his posture rigid, the muscle memory of his Marine days still alive in the way he held himself. His eyes were fixed forward, scanning the hall as if waiting for something—anything—to happen.

For several minutes, the only sound was the hum of distant hospital machines and the quiet shuffle of medical staff moving in and out of rooms. But soon, Armando became aware of another sound—a rapid, relentless tapping. His eyes stayed closed, but his brow furrowed in annoyance.

Reggie's foot was tapping against the tile floor, the pace picking up every second. Armando let out a small sigh, trying to ignore it. The tapping, though, became impossible to drown out. After a few more moments, Armando's frustration peaked.

Without opening his eyes or changing his posture, he asked, voice casual yet irritated, "You waiting for permission to piss, or what?"

The tapping stopped immediately. Reggie looked down at his foot, realizing Armando was addressing him. "Uh... no," he said awkwardly, "Detectives Lowrey and Burnett told us to wait out here."

At that, Armando opened one eye and cast a dubious glance in Reggie's direction. "Detectives Lowrey and Burnett, huh?" he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You always refer to them like you're in basic training?"

"It's called respect," Reggie replied, crossing his arms. "Something you wouldn't know much about."

Armando let out a low scoff, now sitting up a little straighter. “Yeah? What's that supposed to mean?"

Reggie shifted his stance, his voice calm but pointed. "You still call your father by his first name like you're a stranger. You clearly don't respect Detective Lowrey."

Armando straightened up completely, his easygoing facade slipping. His jaw clenched as he leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Watch it, man. You don't know anything about me."

Reggie didn't back down, though. "That's the problem, Aretas. No one knows anything about you because you don't let anyone in. Hell, your own father didn't even know you were engaged."

The tension in the air snapped like a wire pulled too tight. Armando shot to his feet, "Mind your fucking business, Sargent Boy Scout."

Reggie stood his ground, meeting Armando's intensity without blinking. The two stood there, locked in a silent standoff, their frustration bubbling to the surface. Just as it seemed things might escalate, a nurse wheeled a cart right between them, breaking through the tension with an obliviousness that only heightened the absurdity of the moment.

Armando clenched his fists, but as the nurse passed, he took a deep breath and forced himself back into the chair, muttering under his breath. He leaned back, trying to settle his irritation, while Reggie returned to his watchful stance, though the air between them remained thick.

It wasn't long, however, before the familiar sound of Reggie's foot tapping started up again, quieter at first but picking up speed just like before. Armando squeezed his eyes shut in exasperation before muttering a curse in Spanish.

"Por el amor de Dios, *For the love of God* go to the fucking bathroom already!"

Reggie, startled, looked down at his foot and then back at Armando. "Uh... yeah, okay. I'll be right back."

As Reggie hurried off down the hall, Armando finally allowed himself a moment of peace, the silence—at last—returning to the hallway.

Reggie rushed down the hospital halls, turning the corner and practically skidding into the men's room. He made a beeline for the first open urinal, the pressure of needing to pee finally releasing with a sigh. As he finished up, he made his way to the sinks, washing his hands with a few quick pumps of soap. His mind was still half outside door 324, keeping an eye on things.

Just as Reggie rinsed his hands, the sound of a toilet flushing drew his attention. From the stall emerged a massive man, easily towering over six feet, he rolled his white sleeves down to cover arms of heavy black tattoos that snaked up farther than Reggie could see. His surgical mask concealed most of his face, but his eyes were sharp, darting around like he was more alert than a typical medical staffer.

Reggie's instincts flared immediately. Something about the guy wasn't right. He washed his hands too fast, barely scrubbing before bolting from the restroom with a casualness that felt forced. Reggie shook the water from his hands and, without thinking, began to tail him.

The guy moved swiftly, but not with the purpose of someone who belonged there. Reggie followed him discreetly through a few turns in the hospital corridor until the man disappeared into a supply closet. Reggie waited a moment, leaning casually against the wall, his mind racing. Something about this situation screamed wrong. He glanced down the hallway but stayed put, waiting for the man to reemerge.

After a few minutes, he couldn't afford to leave his post any longer. He made his way back to Armando, who was still lounging in his chair with an indifferent expression. Reggie sat down, his eyes never leaving the supply closet.

Armando, noticing the tension, raised an eyebrow and followed Reggie's gaze. "Why you staring like that?"

Reggie leaned forward slightly, his voice low. "The man that just came outta the bathroom—big, tatted up, scrubs and a mask—he's not right. He went into that supply closet, but something about him... it didn't feel like hospital staff."

Armando straightened up in his chair, shifting to get a better look at the man, who had just emerged from the supply closet and was now rifling through some files at a nearby desk. Nobody else seemed to notice him, which struck Armando as odd. He wasn't interacting with any other staff, like he was trying too hard to blend in.

"You sure about this?" Armando asked, his eyes narrowing.

Reggie nodded. "Problem is, I can't act without approval from the detectives, you know? I’m still a rookie."

Armando rolled his eyes, pushing himself out of the chair. "Rookie my ass," he muttered, brushing past Reggie.

"Wait—Armando!" Reggie whispered urgently, trying to stop him. But Armando was already halfway across the hall, ignoring the warning.

Armando walked over to the vending machine, the perfect cover to observe the guy without being obvious. He punched in some buttons for a coffee, all the while stealing glances at the man rifling through the files. From his position, Armando could see the bulge at the man's ankle—a telltale sign of a concealed weapon. Definitely not standard hospital issue.

Just as Armando's eyes moved up from the ankle holster, the man turned, catching him watching. For a split second, their eyes locked.

Then, without warning, the man bolted.

The files scattered to the floor as he took off down the hallway, his heavy footsteps echoing against the sterile tiles. Armando cursed under his breath, spilling the hot coffee as he turned to run after the guy.

Armando's boots pounded against the hospital tiles as he sprinted after the tattooed man, his heart racing but his mind focused. He dodged nurses, rolling carts, and patients being wheeled down the halls, keeping his eye on the man as he knocked over everything in his path. Chairs clattered, trays crashed, and people were shoved aside as the guy barreled through the corridor like a wrecking ball.

Despite the chaos, Armando managed to avoid the obstacles, slipping past tumbling chairs and hurdling overturned carts with ease. Just when he was about to close the distance, the tattooed man sent an older woman's wheelchair spinning into the middle of the hall, knocking her to the ground. Armando gritted his teeth as he jumped over her fallen form. He cursed under his breath and, despite the rush of adrenaline and frustration, skidded to a stop.

"Damn it!" he muttered, turning back.

The tattooed man was getting farther away, but Armando couldn't ignore the woman. He rushed back, kneeling beside her as she reached out, confused and shaken. Her face was pale, her breaths shallow with shock. Speaking softly in Spanish, Armando reassured her as he gently helped her up and steadied her in her wheelchair.

"Está bien, señora. ¿Estás herido?" *Its okay, ma’am. Are you hurt?* he asked, his voice calm despite his urgency.

The woman blinked up at him, her hands trembling as she gripped the arms of the chair. "No, no, gracias... estoy bien. Solo me asusté..." * No, no, thanks... I'm fine. I just got scared...*

"Lo siento mucho," *I am very sorry* Armando said quickly, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before checking her over one last time before he bolted back down the hall. The chase wasn't over.

Armando pushed the door to the stairwell open with his shoulder, his eyes scanning downward as he leaped down the first flight of stairs. The clattering of hurried footsteps echoed beneath him, and a flash of a bald head caught his attention a few floors below. That had to be him.

He jumped two steps at a time, his breaths coming in short bursts as he descended rapidly. The tattooed man had a good lead, but Armando wasn't about to let this guy get away. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, sharpening his senses. Every turn of the stairwell felt tighter, every floor a blur as he pounded down after his target. The sounds of the man's movements echoed in the concrete stairwell, guiding him like a beacon.

When Armando finally hit the ground floor, he could hear the heavy thudding of footsteps just ahead. He tore through the lobby doors, his eyes locked on the back of a man sprinting toward the exit. Armando lunged forward, closing the distance in a final burst of speed before he tackled the man from behind, sending them both crashing to the floor.

They hit the ground hard, sliding across the smooth tiles. Armando wrestled with the man, using every bit of strength he had to pin him down. It took a few seconds of struggling, but eventually, Armando managed to flip the guy over and press his arm into the man's chest to keep him still.

But as soon as the man turned, Armando froze. It wasn't the tattooed guy. Not even close.

The bald man beneath him, wide-eyed and gasping for breath, was in his fifties, a look of sheer terror plastered on his face. His hospital scrubs had become bunched up and he looked nothing like the muscular figure Armando had been chasing.

"What are you doing?!” the man shouted, trying to wriggle free.

Armando blinked in disbelief, the realization sinking in hard. He'd grabbed the wrong guy.

"Shit!" Armando muttered, quickly letting go and jumping to his feet.

The man scrambled to his feet, his face flushed with anger and confusion, but Armando was already scanning the lobby. His true target was nowhere to be seen.

#armando aretas #jacob scipio #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life #bad boys movie #fanfic #mike lowrey #marcus burnett

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