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luminiamore · 9 months ago

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EX WHO?

ex husband eren yeager x black fem reader

warnings: reader may have gotten pregnant again (she definitely did), ur daughters name is raqi

pt. 2

moodboard

masterlist

“Sweetheart, please let me put your shoes on so I can bring you to your daddy.” You try to tell your gorgeous four-year-old for the fifth time in one minute.

“No, mama! Daddy says he’s coming here because he misses you.”

You observe as she escapes your grasp again after kicking her tiny feet in different directions. You groan both inside and out loud because you have to repeat, “No, he’s not Raqi.” Mommy needs the house to herself tonight-”

“Uhuh, and Uncle Connie is coming too! He’s taking me to, um-Nick- um-” You watch as she looks at you, waiting for you to help her finish her sentence.

You stifle a giggle at her pout, “Nickelodeon?”

“Yeah!! It’s in Spain, mama!”

You heave a sigh once more. It’s not uncommon for Connie to take your daughter on expensive trips such as this. He probably indulged your daughter more than you did. Not more than Eren, though. Even though Eren didn’t live with you, he made sure to come by and see his baby girl every day, even if it was just for five minutes. Each time he came, he would have a new gift in his hand.

Connie gave your daughter gifts like trips, taking her around the world, and first-class only reserved for the princess. As she ages, she definitely won’t be impressed by someone’s son taking her to Miami.

However, Eren spoiled his girl with jewelry, bags, the newest edition of Hello Kitty plushies, and anything else. To be honest, you need to begin the process of finding her a larger room.

You’re not so sure your daughter is lying. It’s unlikely that she would lie about something like this. Your frustration has changed from being directed toward her to your ex-husband for not informing you. This was actually one of the reasons why you guys split up. He would always make plans and decisions regarding your daughter without letting you know first.

Although he didn’t make any bad decisions or put her in danger, it’s upsetting to know that you rarely had any say in what your daughter did, except for the things she wore.

You remember vividly handing him the divorce papers and standing in front of him in shock as he laughed right in your face with mumbles of, ‘Must be crazy’ and ‘Never in a million years.’

And so the divorce was never finalized because he refused to sign the papers, but you and he were through as far as you were concerned. He had no problem letting you run around thinking that, though. It goes without saying that he never took off his wedding ring. Yours has been on for so long that it’s like muscle memory to slip it on every time you go out.

To this day, his Instagram page is filled with pictures of you and only you. Shit, both of your parents still invite you guys over for dinner, and Eren never told them what you presented him with. You absolutely didn’t have the guts to tell them unless he signed those papers.

You didn’t have the guts to prevent your daughter from having a good time and living out her childhood, a chance you, unfortunately, weren’t blessed with.

��Okay, baby. Well, you still have to put your shoes on if you wanna go with Uncle Connie, okay?”

That seemed to do it. Your daughter headed to her bed and began bouncing up and down with joy before finally settling down and waiting for you to put them on.

Just as you were finishing, you heard the doorbell ring. You rise to your feet and fix your silk robe and matching silk bonnet. Kissing your daughter’s head and lifting her up in your arms, you walk barefoot on the cold tile floors of your penthouse— that Eren pays for.

It’s no surprise when you open the door and find the men of the hour. They were matching. Your ex-spouse appears in all his splendor, sporting a gray beanie that conceals his natural hair, a black hoodie, and black sweatpants that match. Connie’s attire was the opposite: a black beanie covering his buzz cut, a grey hoodie, and grey sweatpants that matched.

“Daddy!”

“Baby!”

Your daughter is quick to jump onto her father, and Eren easily catches her. It’s almost impossible to deny how similar they look. It’s as if she left you out of the gene pool altogether. All his facial features were present in her, including his curls, eyes, and face. Her skin color was the only thing you could vouch for.

Eren catches your eyes, and you look away quickly. His stare always gives you an intimidating feeling. You disregard his glance and turn to Connie with a smile, kissing him on his cheek and leading him inside, “Hey, Con.”

He reciprocates the gesture, albeit with a friendly tone. He was aware of how possessive his best friend can be towards you, and he didn’t want to be a part of that today. After playing with your daughter’s flushed cheek, you turn around and leave Eren outside, letting him invite himself in. Your hostility causes him to furrow his brows.

“What, I don’t get a kiss too?”

While still ignoring him, you direct your buzz-cut friend to your child’s room. “There should be a bag already packed with her things in her closet. I know how much you guys love these trips.”

Connie grins and nods. Your daughter demands that Eren put her down and runs after him, yelling that she wants to show him her new plushies. Now, there were only you and Eren in your living room, alone. Great.

It was impossible for you to function when it was just you and him. Eren’s presence always made you nervous and hot. No matter who was present, he always made his attraction to you known. Your daughter thought you were still together for that reason. Eren Yeager was an elusive figure. He was a force to be reckoned with. The feelings you have for him are still harboring, even though you tried to push them away.

They persist, and it doesn’t seem like you made any effort to remove them. You have been separated for a few months now, but you have never attempted to move on. Whenever your friends asked why you never went on a date, you would always answer that you’re ‘just not ready.’ You never actually moved on from him.

Your friends knew it was bullshit, but you would never admit it. You wouldn’t admit to missing him, missing him holding you, sleeping with you, fucking you. You went from getting your fat cunt stuffed every day to only cumming once a week due to a vibrator going high speeds on your clit. Eren knew you weren’t stupid enough to give his pussy away. You knew you weren’t stupid enough to give his pussy away.

Eren, of course, would never move on from you, either. He genuinely doesn’t believe that you two are separated, as you’re still together in his mind. You will be his forever.

He slowly stalks towards you, watching you intently focus on the wall. You probably hoped he would disappear if you didn’t pay him any mind. He knew how your mind worked.

“M’still waiting on my kiss, mama.” He raises your chin towards him when he reaches you, and his green eyes don’t skip over the little bra you had on beneath your lace robe.

“Eren, move.” You glare at him, but it really isn’t doing much but making him hard.

“Wassup with you?”

“You! You are ‘wassup’ with me.” You whisper so as not to alert Connie and your daughter in the next room. You try to match his tone, lowering yours in pitch.

“What did I do, baby?” His deep voice speaking to you like this always makes you squirm, but you suppress it to express your anger at him.

“Don’t call me that. How many times do I have to tell you to let me know when you make plans to take our daughter somewhere.” You grit your teeth.

He simply gives a sly smile, “Are you really upset about that?”

Once again, he pretends it’s not significant. You’re not even asking for much. Is it really a death sentence for him to inform you of where your daughter might be going? Why do you always end up being the last one to learn? You believe it’s not difficult to give you a week’s notice. You won’t have to be worried about looking silly when your daughter tells you. You don’t think it’s fair to you at all.

“I trust Connie, and I trust you with our daughter, but I just want to know where she’s going. Preferably before she goes! That’s all I ask for, Eren. You can’t keep doing-”

“Are you mad at daddy, mommy?”

You freeze.

Your daughter rested on Connie’s back as he held her mini Disney Princess suitcase. She was gazing at you with a pout, and you didn’t want to be the one to put that expression on her face. You’re about to respond when Eren suddenly opens his mouth, condescending tone and all,

“Yeah, mama. Are you mad at me?”

You try and force a smile for the sake of your daughter, even though every part of you wants to wring your ex-husband’s neck.

“No, baby. Are you ready to leave with Uncle Connie now?” As if it were never there, the frown is replaced by a fit of giggles, a bright smile, and a frantic nod of her head.

Connie gives your daughter a small rub on her head, “We should head out now. The flight’s in two hours, and we don’t wanna get stuck in traffic.”

You hurriedly nod and lead them both to the front door. Your daughter is smothered with kisses after you hug her and whisper a sweet ‘I love you.’ Eren presents your daughter with a mini Chanel box just before Connie puts Raqi in the child’s seat in the backseat of his Scat. You manage to make out his little whisper to her, ‘Don’t open it until tomorrow. Daddy loves you.’

Together, you love them, and you have no regrets about giving this man a child. It’s something you could never regret. Marrying him wasn’t a regret for you either; truly, he treated you like a princess. It’s just that you want him to dedicate more time to you.

Eren spent a lot of time outside before having your baby, whether it was with his friends or his job. He was always dedicated to providing you with everything you needed, but you never asked for any of those tangible things. The only thing you wanted was your husband. It took you some time to communicate your feelings to him, but eventually you did.

As a person who was understanding, he listened. For approximately a week, before he did the same shit again. You were worn out and reached a point where you couldn’t keep going any further. Although Eren wouldn’t give you the divorce you wanted, he was accommodating and allowed you to move out of his home. Provided that he will get the apartment and pay your rent. ‘Safety measures,’ he calls them.

Even now, Eren still acts as though you’re married, and you still pretend that it’s bothering you. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you hear your door slam shut, with Eren still inside your house.

“You really mad at me, mama?”

You merely sigh, “Eren, why are you still here?”

With his hands on either side of you, he stands in front of you while your body presses flush against the front door. You feel a slight tingle, aware that you’re inhaling the same air as this man. You give a quick glance at his pink lips and hope you look away swiftly enough so he doesn’t notice. He does.

His lips curl, and his voice becomes low and breathless when he speaks again, “Answer me, baby.”

You sense that Eren is talking about more than today for some reason. He’s talking about everything that led up to it, including his absence and negligence. He’s asking if you’re still upset about the way he influenced you to want to divorce him.

A tear that you didn’t even realize was forming slips down your face. Eren doesn’t miss a beat when wiping it away with his thumb and delicately kissing your cheek as well.

You whisper shakily, “I don’t want to be. B-But you make it so hard, Ren.”

Ren. You called him Ren. He fails to recall the last time he heard the nickname you gave him flutter past your pretty lips. He derives pleasure from it and longs to listen to it again.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, mama. You have to believe me. I never want to see you cry, baby. And I’m so sorry for making you feel like this.”

You attempt to move away, but he grasps your hands tightly, causing you to remain still. He understands your struggle, but you don’t trust him. And you’re trying to run away from him again. Eren has apologized before, but he wants you to acknowledge his apologies this time.

He kisses your cheek again, “I’m not working as much anymore, and I even cut back on dealing. I’m sorry I didn’t get it before. I know you just wanted me to spend more time with you, and I swear I’ll make it happen. Just take me back, please.”

Another kiss, this time on your neck, “I miss you so much, mama.”

Your breathing is intensifying, and your hold on him is gradually diminishing. “Ren, please. I- I can’t.”

“Let me make it up to you, hm? Show you how much I missed you. Let me, mama.”

You’re so weak, you scold yourself. So, so weak. He shouldn’t be able to get you like this easily. It shouldn’t be this easy for him to slip off your robe, letting it fall on the cold floor. You should have more resistance. You should make him work for it.

But how can you?

How can you resist when he’s on his knees, letting his tongue push in and out of your wet hole, unashamedly moaning as you twitch and buck your hips into his mouth. He’s entirely too nasty and too careless when he laps up everything your addictive pussy is pouring into his awaiting mouth.

You’re shaking, your body shivering so much you have goosebumps everywhere. He just doesn’t let up. Each time you try and push away from his pleasurable onslaught, it’s just,

“Quiet, mama. Daddy can’t make it up to you if you’re running from him.”

Your eyes are starting to hurt so much from the way you’re rolling them back into your skull. You’re heaving, squealing when he suckles harshly on your poor clit. Not even your vibrator made you feel this good.

“G-Gonna cum- Ah! Oh fuck, Rennie!”

You hear the slurping sounds as he eats you, and he never once removes himself from your cunt as he whispers, “Not my name, mama.”

God, you can feel the vibrations, can feel his long tongue covering every crevice inside of you. You grip his head, his beanie barely hanging onto him with how much you both are moving. You wail when he inserts two fingers in at once after he slips his tongue out of you, a precious and weak “Daddy- shit!” released into the air.

He hums against you, against your wet mound, and for some reason, that’s what pushes you over the edge. Your stomach clenches, and your entire being feels like it’s being set alight when you cum on his big fingers. Eren swears he’s fallen in love all over again. It’s been months since he’s tasted you, tasted your sweet cream. He’s missed it. God, he missed you.

As soon as he senses you’re too weak to stand on your own, he rises to his feet and immediately lifts you up by your legs. His lips are brushing against yours now, still wet from your essence.

“You never gave me that kiss. C’mon, baby, kiss me.”

And you do, moaning when you immediately taste yourself. Your breath caught in his mouth as he pushed your legs back against the wall, and he didn’t hesitate to swallow your sounds, sucking your tongue and biting your blushed lips.

Time slows when Eren finally pulls his sweats down and nudges his fat cock in you. He’s holding you so gently like you’ll break in any moment, and honestly, you feel like you will. It’s been so long, so long since you had something this big stretching you out. You can’t help but whimper out pretty cries of ‘Daddy!’ or ‘Rennie!’ against his panting mouth.

You’re so stuffed. So full that you can’t think of anything but how good he feels, how good this intense euphoria streaming through your body feels.

Eren is the same. He’s fisted his cock red to thoughts of having you like this once more. You were the only one who could ever make him feel like a wimp whenever he fucked you. Your pussy just feels so perfect, squeezing around him so tight, like you want him to put another baby in you. Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

He gives you slow, deep strokes that make you keen. The sound of his voice is groggy and slurred as he grunts against your throat, “God, you feel so good. Please, baby, forgive me. Say you’ll take me back. Say it. Say it.”

Through your haze, you still manage to have a few brain cells still working, barely. You’re trying to speak out, but every time his hips press flush against your own, it’s like your breath gets caught in your throat. Still, you stutter out,

“C-Can’t- Hah! Oh, right there!”

“You know I’ll never leave you alone. I can’t, mama. Rather die before I ever let you go. I’ll get on my knees again if I have to, baby.” He sounds so pretty, begging for your forgiveness like this. You don’t know how long you can hold out. You’re not sure you even can.

“You’re c-crazy.” You utter, completely breathless, when he hits your g-spot.

Eren’s response is immediate when he reaches down to rub your clit in tight circles, “For you. Crazy for you.”

Whining, your squirt splashes all over his hoodie, and your body is twitching because it won’t stop. Your supposed ex-spouse groans as he spills his seed past your splashing pussy lips, right into your womb, while whispering unsteadily, ‘I love you so much.’ Shakenly, you pull his face toward yours and kiss him, drool pouring out of both your lips. It’s almost as if you’re trying to devour each other.

When you reluctantly pull away from his lips, he speaks once again, “Please, I need you. Just want you in my arms again, mama.”

You sigh, and honestly too exhausted to argue against him, you answer,

“If you start going back to your old habits, Eren-”

“I won’t. Swear on my life- on our daughter.”

You hum, fingers now combing through his loose curls. You gasp against his lips, feeling him shift inside you, “I love you too, Ren. Always did.”

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yuri-on-ice-ice-baby · 2 years ago

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Mediterranean Deck Example of a large tuscan backyard outdoor kitchen deck design with no cover

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siribaes · 6 months ago

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beggin’

armando aretas x (oc) [ black!fem! ]

a decade ago armando spent an unforgettable summer with an unforgettable girl, who taught him everything. his sex teacher. now decade later he’s face to face with the teacher once again, determined to show that her lessons didn’t go to waste.

contents: some dom & sub dynamics. voice fixation. size kink. praise kink. pet names. fingering. brief! p in v. cūnnilingus. p!ssydrunk armando bc duh. slight impact play (no face slapping!) they’re in love but in denial about it, minor drug mention, etc. mdni!

suggested tunes📻: elevator by flo rida & timbaland, strip tease by danity kane, get naked (i got a plan) by britney spears, radio by girlicious, virtual diva by don omar, push by enrique igelsias

author’s note: this is slight au, so think of this being the early stages of the revenge plot prior to isabel’s escape. lol the chokehold that the long lost love/lovers reuniting has lol >> i tried to make this as filthy as a possible :) not proofread or edited!

club exquisite was in full swing. bodies packed the building, from wall to wall, people were dancing, drinking, or doing both simultaneously. multicolored strobe lights swirled and danced, combinations of blues, greens and reds illuminated the dance floor, complimenting the dj’s killer set of miami’s finest.

it was lively and fun.

armando, however, was having anything but.

tucked away in a corner booth of the v.i.p., armando sat bored out of his mind, sipping on way too sweet champagne. he should’ve been doing something more useful with his time. instead, he was stuck playing babysitter for the son of a future drug connect, all this per his mother’s instructions.

. . .this marriage between his son and your cousin, alejandra will benefit us. our partnership will bring us one step closer, it’s all apart of the grand design mijo. . .

was sipping champagne that tasted like super sugary, ginger ale a part of the grand design? apparently. watching the groom-to-be snort a line of coke off of girl’s ass was a part of the grand design too. armando took another sip from the flute before sitting it down on table, watching as the girl giggled and kissed sebastian on the mouth. armando never cared for sebastian, they were just so different from one another. sebastian was a pretty boy who liked pretty things, he never worked a day in his life and instead of doing his own thing, he basked in the glory of his father’s notoriously ruthless reputation. armando was self-made, haunted by his father’s death and forged by the fire of mother’s imprisonment. armando blazed his own path and was destined for greater things.

yet, he was here in miami, clubbing with sebastian’s and his pack of idiot friends.

a heavy hand shook him out of his thoughts.

“primo,” sebastian slurred. he swiped at his runny nose, before running hand down his half buttoned shirt. “c’mon, we’re going to the real v.i.p.,”

slightly relieved, armando followed sebastian as the bachelor party were lead by security out of the main dance floor. as they weaved between the crowd, armando trailed slightly behind, keeping a careful eye out on the crowd. despite never being in a fight in this his life, sebastian had a fuck ton of enemies. he was like that. the music became a faint murmuring as the group walked through a door and into an elaborately painted hallway. the walls were a warm golden color, while the ceiling and its floors were covered in mirrored tile. the group continued on, armando continued to linger in the back. amongst the drunken laughter of sebastian and his friends, was this clicking sound.

click! . . . click! . . . click!

armando searched around for the sound as they continued down the hallway, eyes roamed around until he found the source, woman in a pair of high heels. they weren’t just any, regular pair of heels, they were black-patent leather so kate louboutins. fortunately enough for armando he’s familiar with the shoe, he may or may not have purchased a pair or two for his past situationships. armando continues to observe; taking in the details, the woman’s shapely and toned legs, the rich brown skin, and the intricate zipper tattoo that began at the back of her ankle, and traveled up her leg. the remainder of tattoo was lost from the fabric of her dress.

a curiosity sparked inside of armando, watching the woman confidently strut the mirrored floor. he wanted to see just how far the tattoo went. she continued leaving a lingering smell in her wake. it was a combination of warm and spicy, like cinnamon and peach pie. her fragrance filled the molecules in the air he could practically taste it. after turning a corner, the group came to halt in front of pair of doors. from the other side, a pair of security guards opened up the doors.

sebastian and his friends drunkenly ooo-ed and ahh-ed and the ornate nature of the room. armando could care less about the sliver couch, the decked-out bar or the strippers that awaited them upon their arrival, he focused on her. although he got better view, she still alluded him, he could see her from the back, fully, a black bandage dress, accentuated her curves and that ass. . . it looked so round and perky like you could bounce a quarter off it, or grab a handful.

something slowly churned inside of armando as he moved further into the room. he leisurely grabbed a seat on the far end of the couch, with the hopes of seeing his mystery girl's face. the party continued on with the speakers on the room ceiling playing a feed of the dj’s set back out on the dance floor. sebastian and his groomsmen settled on the couch, excited for their lap dances. the lights dimmed too, not enough obscure one’s sight completely, but dark enough to bring on a certain atmosphere to the space.

armando scanned the room for his mystery girl. somehow she’s disappeared on him.

“aren’t you pretty one,” a voice whispered to him, distracting armando from his search. standing before was a woman, one of the strippers. her voice was overly smoky and performative. even the way she batting her long, wispy lashes, she was trying way too hard. he tilted his head away from his obstructed view, “you wanna dance, papí?” armando glanced up at her, a laugh bubbled up inside of him, he suppressed it, for her sake of course.

“nah, sweetheart. i’m good,” armando rasped. the woman shrugged, on to the next. when the stripper moved, standing directly in his sight was his mystery girl. even through the darkness, she was as clear as day.

her heart-shaped face, her button nose and glossy lips, her disney-drawn eyes, brown and wide, in they way they’ve always looked when she was shocked or anxious.

armando’s mystery girl, was no mystery at all. he knew her.

before he could call out to her, she bolted out of the room through the doors. armando glanced at sebastian, who was having a grand ‘ol time being motorboated by a voluptuous stripper. he’s fine. armando took off, following the cinnamon-peachy scent out to the hallway.

she was almost at the end of the hallway. . .

“leyna?” she stopped. she slowly turned around and faced him. “you runnin’ from me?”

her brows furrowed. “i wasn’t running. i was just. . .getting some air,”

armando’s lips twitched. he sauntered over, baring no shame is as he took, no, drank leyna in. it’s been so long, his eyes roamed over leyna. armando took his time, observing, noting every single detail, both old and new. he zeroes in on her legs, watching has she nervously bounces her right leg, the tattooed one. her louboutins make a soft clicking noise against the floor.

armando smirks.

“still shakin’. . .you must be nervous,” armando gestured, it was a tick leyna’s had since she was a kid. leyna frowned, she stopped bouncing. she folded arms around her chest.

“please, i’m not nervous,” she sassed. her glossy lips pursed, forming into a small pout. such a brat. he wanted to kiss the pout off her lips. “anyways, what are you doing here, in miami?”

for a moment, he thinks. armando could tell her the truth flat out: he’s here in miami for business, and his only job was ensuring that sebastian, sober or not, makes it down the isle. . .or he could stretch the truth out. make it a game for himself. anything to distract leyna, even if it’s for a short while.

so, armando shrugs. “business,”

“business? that’s it? it’s been ten years armando, that’s all you have to say?”

armando steps closer to leyna. his over 6-foot frame easily towers over her petite 5-foot-3 frame. has she always been so tiny? he reaches out towards her, the corner of his lips twitch as leyna’s chest rises as her breath catches in her throat. he twirls a long strand of between his fingers, before giving it a gentle tug.

“s’ somewhere we can talk?”

“armando,” leyna sighed. her voice was all high and pitchy, it scratched a certain part of his brain. a flood of memories came surging through. he need hear leyna say his name like that again. “i’m working. both of us should get b-back,”

leyna moves past him, armando doesn’t protest. as she starts walking away, armando reaches into his pant’s pocket.

“how much?” leyna spins around on her heels. a flicker of curiosity dances in her eyes.

“huh?” armando watches leyna eyes light up even more when pulls a money clip out. he thumbs through several bills before he lifts it up.

“its ‘bout three g’s in my hand. should be enough for a shift plus tips, yeah?” her eyes bounce between the money and armando. he can see the wheels in her mind turn, she chews on the bottom of her glossy lips.

“10-minutes. that’s all i can do,” armando nodded. he placed the money in her hand, his fingers gently brushed against hers. ten minutes is all he needs.

armando follows leyna down the hallway, opposite of the party. his eyes roamed, watching leyna’s body sway as she walked. he shouldn’t be turned on from a walk but he was. leyna didn’t walk, she glided. so effortless, and so easy, better then any it was something about seeing her so confidence all these years later. it was refreshing, armando dealt with so many fakes and try hards in his line of business. leyna’s confidence was real. she was real.

“i can feel you staring,” leyna sassed. they stop at a door, she quickly inputs a set of numbers on a keypad. the door clicks.

“i like what i see,” leyna shakes her head, she opens the door, stepping aside to let armando walk in front of her.

the room itself was half the size of the v.i.p. room, and opposite in aesthetics too. the walls were painted a nice, creamy beige, with a matching colored couch. on the far wall, there was an elaborate shelf display old-used bottles of champagne. armando steps inside, taking the room in. the door softly closes, with a click. the room is quiet.

“so,” leyna drawls. she takes a seat on the couch. armando follows suit, sitting next to her. their knees almost graze each others. she flips her hair over her shoulder. “wanna tell me the real reason why you’re here in miami?”

armando chuckles. “a wedding. my cousin ‘s gettin’ married,”

“alejandra?” she remembered, of course she did. she was always to so knowledgeable and attentive. she used to be like that to him.

“yeaaah. she’s been lovin’ bein’ in charge of everybody with the plannin’ and stuff,”

“i hope she’s not bogging you down too much,” his lips tipped into a teeny-tiny smile. she still was still the ever-doting teacher, worried about her student.

“nah. wedding plannin’ ain’t my thing. besides, i’m just assigned babysittin’ duty for sebastian,”

“mhm. i would’ve never paired them together. alejandra, from what i remembered, was so kind, and funny, smart too! sebastian is just a grade-a asshole who likes wreck every club he goes to and piss in public,” armando chuckles as leyna shivers, maybe recalling a memory. armando reaches for the hem of her dress, he toys with it between his fingers. she doesn’t stop him.

“she loves ‘em i guess,” part of that was true, their marriage was arranged yet, alejandra told him that she’s learned to love parts of sebastian. there’s a part of him that wished it wasn’t like that for her.

“i wish her the best,” leyna spoke solemnly.

the room fell quiet, armando still toyed with the edge of leyna’s dress. he tipped his head, looking at leyna.

“you’ve been good though, yeah,” he meant for it to be question but it came out as a statement. she had to be good though, she looked good, and had this fancy ass job at one of miami’s most exclusive clubs. life had to be good.

leyna’s leg began to bounce, as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “yeah, i guess. my life’s been pretty boring since you’ve seen me,”

“tell me,”

“well. . .” leyna trailed. her leg still bounced. armando wanted grab her ankle and make her stop. why was his girl nervous? “i graduated, i gotta b.a. in business administration, got this hostess job short after, met my best friend ana here, let me tell you she’s literally the best cook,” she was rambling, slightly, but armando didn’t care, he wanted to know every single detail. he missed his girl, his bambi. they need to make up for lost time.

“we’re going into business together, a restaurant. i’m going to take care of all the logistics, put my degree to good use, finally. so, yeah, i’m really excited about it, as you can see. but yeah, uhm, what else, i was engaged,”

armando stopped toying with the hem. he turned and took her fully, her right leg bounced even more so. that’s what she was nervous about.

“what happened?”

“uhm,” her beautiful features held a pained expression. a twinge of anger sprouted inside of armando, seeing her like this. whoever made his girl upset needed their ass kicked, especially by him. “to make a long story short, he cheated, multiple times actually. i just got tired being the laughing stock in every room,” she lowered her gaze and fiddled her hands.

armando slowly reached for leyna’s hands. her hands were so soft under his touch. with his thumb, he drew light circles on the back of her hands. a strange emotion was bubbling up inside him, he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was. a little anger, some jealousy, a little sadness too, it was just too much fully explain but the his urge was clear. armando wanted to pull her close, and take care of her like she truly deserves.

“he didn’t deserve you,” she looks at him now, her big brown eyes all wide and glossed over. long lashes fluttered against the tops of her round cheeks, her resemblance to bambi was spot-on. the air became thick around them, and that urge, thrummed in his bones.

armando wanted leyna and he wanted her bad.

“you deserved somebody that’ll take care of you,” he rasped. his words were sincere and true, leyna was one of the kindest, tentative, sweetest people he had ever known. she shown him a kindness when most people wouldn’t. leyna deserved the world, and then some. “you deserve someone who’s gonna protect you, an’ spoil you, an’ just fuckin’ be there,” words were spilling out of his mouth now, like faucet left on. he leans in closer to her, glancing down her glossy lips. he licked his own. “bambi, you deserve someone that can make you feel good,” armando was so dangerously close he could see a breath get caught in leyna’s throat, her chest slight rose up in response. he caught a glimpse of leyna’s jet-black bra that held up her ample cleavage. the peachy-cinnamon smell radiated off the column of her neck, it enticed him, slowly drawing him closer and closer to her.

armando leaned his forehead against her’s.

“fuck, bambi,”

“. . .armando,” leyna whispered. her voice was so pitchy and soft, it smoothed over him. it triggered a hunger for leyna, more veracious than ever before. ten years of distance and unresolved feelings, danced in his blood. his palms itched with desire to squeeze and caress leyna’s soft skin. he wanted to touch the softest part of her.

“please. bambi, ‘jus lemme care take of you, make you feel good. . . i never get what i want,”

leyna back away from him, keeping a steady gaze, she caressed the side of armando’s cheek. her manicured acrylics lightly scratched at his goatee. a bolt of electricity shot through his body when her thumb swiped at his bottom lip.

“i’ve only been with a few men after you,” leyna confessed. “none of them, including my ex, made me feel good like you did. you were the only one,”

armando groaned, lowly. everything in him surged to the surface, so much so he was bursting at the seams.

“c’mere,” leyna obliged. he pulls her in for a kiss. at first it was chaste and sweet, armando tried to ease into the kiss, but the pillowy, softness of her lips and her sweet peachy smell drove him insane. he deepened the kiss, moving his lips hungrily, against hers, while he cradled her head. when he licked her lips, leyna opened her mouth to allow him to explore with her with his tongue. she tasted like peach pie.

"i need it," leyna moaned into his mouth. armando hovered over her lips.

"you say somethin' bambi," he teased, he slid his hands down her frame, stopping at her ass. he rubbed and squeezed, before smacking it. she squeaked.

"baby, please," leyna whimpered, she climbed into armando's lap. she slowly, ground down on his lap, she gasped, feeling his hardness. the look she had in her eyes, a mix of lust and longing, shot straight through him and went to his dick. he snaked a hand towards the back of her neck, he gently gripped the soft flesh. she stopped her movement.

"take that fuckin' dress off," he groaned. leyna blinks. she rose from his lap and proceeded to shimmy out of the dress. she let it pool at her feet before stepping out of it. armando couldn't help himself, all of her smooth curves, and deep rich skin, he just wanted to take a big bite of her. he pulled her back to the couch, switching places, and slid between her legs.

there was no pretense, armando immediately spread her legs wide went straight for leyna's pussy. with his thumb he rubs at her clothed pussy. he revels in the small squelching noise that her pussy makes. leyna whimpers, looking down at him with those big, brown eyes. he chuckles.

“still sensitive?” leyna quickly nods. armando chuckles again, he peels her to the side, admiring the slivery trail of arousal that drips from her pussy onto the fabric. he hums. such a pretty pussy. leyna's pink pussy drips and drools with arousal, fully open and ready, all for him. with calloused thumbs, armando rubs small, droopy circles on the inner parts of leyna's thighs. he inched forward, replacing his fingers with chaste kisses, they create goosebumps on leyna's skin. he licks his lips, keeping his eyes on leyna, kisses her clit.

"fuck! armando,"

he anticipates. before she could ask, armando lays his tongue flat against leyna’s dripping core.

“oo-ooh,” she coos. “you ‘remembered,”

how could he forget, images of him buried between leyna’s shaky legs are burned into his brain. countless lessons from her, teaching him, guiding him. he swears he can hear her voice, way back when during that time.

. . .spread your tongue, a little to the left. yeah ‘just like that, s’ good. good boy. . .

a forceful yank on armando’s curls bring him back to reality. he adjusts his grip on leyna’s thighs, spreading them wider, the pads of his thumbs caressing the plushness.

“fuuuck me! oh my g-god,” leyna whines. armando smiles against her skin, his tongue licks a long stripe against leyna’s core. her arousal is sweet, like peach ice cream. it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever, will ever taste. his sweet girl. armando groans, pulling back slightly, he brings his calloused thumb to leyna’s swollen nub. armando rubs her clit, reveling in her response to his touch. she practically glows, deep brown skin, completely flushed, reddening a bit at her chest. her glossy lips formed into a cute pout, her bottom lip poking ever so slightly, just begging to be kissed, to be bitten by him. seeing her so overwhelmed, so pleasured, sends wave of arousal through armando. his erection painfully rubs against the fabric of his slacks.

“eyes on me, baby,” armando rasps. leyna’s struggle to stay open, succumbing to euphoria between her legs. smack! leyna’s disney-drawn eyes shoot open, to look down at armando. for a moment armando sees something flicker in them, it strips him bare, milliseconds feel like years under her gaze. armando pulls back, spitting directly onto leyna’s pussy. with a new vigor, he dives back in, his tongue licks and drags up and down her softness. his tongue swirls the mix, leyna’s honeyed arousal and his spit, gathering and spreading it onto her clit. he begins suckling the nub, feeling leyna’s sugary essence drip down his goateed chin.

“a-armando! wait s-slow down,”

“uh-uh. you’re my big girl,” he spits, again. armando slurps leyna’s clit, hard. no better then a starving man. “you can take it,”

“c-cumin’. i’m cumin’ baby, pleaseee,” leyna lets out a melodious whine. better than any song or music he’s ever heard. nothing can compare to his girl’s angelic voice, all pitchy and delicate. it’s music to his ears.

“ 's i got you. i got you bambi, let it out,” armando drawls. he sucks at leyna’s clit as it throbs against his tongue. her legs clamp down around armando’s head, this makes him push harder to get her over the edge. he switches his approach, one hand pries open leyna’s leg, with the other he slips his middle finger inside her entrance, slowly prodding her open, he flattens his tongue to lap at her clit. with the other hand he reaches, palming one of her bra covered breasts.

“s-shit! don’t stop please,” leyna is babbling now. she rakes her nails through armando’s thick curls. armando can feel her tightening around his middle finger. she’s close. . .

bam! the band snaps. leyna orgasms hard.

her sugary, syrupy essence flows out of her. leyna holds armando’s head close, she rides out her aftershocks, jerking lightly when his tongue and nose glides over her sensitive clit. slowly, armando pulls away, a string a saliva connects from his lips to leyna’s pussy. he rose up from his crouched position. armando towering over her, his eyes gazing down at her, dilated pupils heavy with dangerous mix, care and lust, maybe even something more. the soft lighting catches armando’s glistening goatee and cheeks. his pink tongue swipes at his bottom lip, like a coyote eyeing its subdued prey.

leyna was everything at the same time. his baby take care of, his princesa to spoil, and his bambi to devour.

“h-how’d you get so good,” leyna stammered. her breathing is still a bit choppy.

“learned from the best,” he rasps, he eyes slowly rake over, as if he was studying her. he wanted to remember her in this very moment.

leyna smiles, sheepishly.

“c’mere,” armando beckons. leyna obliges, she sits up, scooting closer to the edge of the couch. armando tilts leyna chin upwards, he leans in, capturing her lips. he nips at her bottom lip, when leyna opens her mouth, he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. she tastes herself on his tongue, it starts off tangy but quickly bleeds into a saccharine taste. their tongues wrestle. before, in this war of mouths, leyna used to win, mostly due to armando’s lack of experience, but now it’s much different. he wields his tongue masterfully like knight and their sword, twisting and tasting every inch of her mouth.

“you ready for me princesa?” leyna nods. he watches as her mouth opens and then closes when he slips his shirt over his head. she's pratically drooling at the sight. she should be, countless hours of training have contributed to his sculpted body, all muscles and hard edges. mindlessly her fingers trace over his chest. nails drag over the ridges of his six-pack. she stops her ogling when she sees a scar near his rib cage. armando notices.

“bar fight. fucker, got me good with a broken bottle. had to get a couple stitches,”

“oh baby,”

“hey, hey,” armando gently grabs leyna’s hand. he drags it up, so it cups his cheek. “i’m good,”

his voice holds sincerity as that strange feeling returns inside of him. that urge to hold and take care of leyna, to protect her from his woes, the world, and all its troubles. leyna reaches down to unbuckle his pants, but he stops her.

“not tonight, bambi. wanna be inside of you,”

leyna gulps. he cocks his head to the side.

“don't get all shy on me now," armando tilts her chin. "you know what to do, princesa,"

leyna peels out of her slightly ripped and soaked panties, she tosses them aside. she reaches behind for the clasp of her bra, she unbuckles it, carefully she lays it on the couch next to her dress. when leyna reaches down to slip off her heels, armando tsks.

“nah. leave ‘em on,” armando bites his lip, his eyes sweeping over her naked frame. she’s changed a lot over ten years, she’s curvier, with an obvious plushness and fullness in her breasts and ass. noticeably, there’s a small tattoo of a lotus flower on the upper right side of her rib cage. “fuck, bambi. you all grown up,”

leyna opens her mouth to retort but she shuts it as armando unbuttons his pants.

"you trust me?" armando huffs, he slowly pumps his hardness, feeling pre-cum leaking from his tip.

“of course, i trust you,” leyna replies softly.

“shit princesa. you can’t say stuff like that,” armando murmurs.

he slowly spins leyna around, her back was at his front. he made sure slowly grind his bulge into her, so she could feel all of him.

“soy el rey ahora,” there a slight edge in his voice, it contrasted with the soft circles he drew on the back of her neck. “on all fours, princesa,” leyna obliges. she moves towards the couch, planting herself on her hands and knees, and arches her back. armando groans as she makes a show of it, wiggling her hips in the process. “so pretty liked this. my sweet girl, my bambi, imma fuck the shit out of you,” armando all but growls. a hand reaches into her scalp, fisting her hair. he forcefully tugs at her locks, pulling her head backwards.

leyna whimpers. “baby ‘s rough,”

armando roughly spits on her pussy. he watches as the spit slides down, mixing with her slickness. he’s not nice, not like before. all the care and attention he paid towards her pussy, that armando was long gone. now, replaced with a meaner, tunnel-vision armando. he pushes himself, filling her to her hilt, his stretching out her pussy, all of ridges of his dick rubbing against her gummy walls. she's so warm and tight, a delicious contrast of pushing and pulling him further inside of her. a chill runs down leyna's spine while her manicured nails claw at the fabric of the couch.

“oh fuck!” leyna shouts, armando smacks her right ass-cheek. he executes a few shallow thrusts, barely moving in and out of leyna.

“how bad you wan’ it?” armando drawls.

“so bad baby, please fuck me, please,” leyna’s hoarseness sounds ethereal to him. the breathy way she sounds, the want, the need, makes him even harder. so much so it pains him.

“i got you,” armando tightens the hold he has on leyna’s hair and hip. he pulls all the way out, admiring the mess his girl makes on his dick. the glossy shine the covers him. he stifles back a moan, her warmth and softness send waves of pleasure straight to his dick. he bites down on his lip, watching leyna’s ass ripple against him with every stroke. a bolt of electricity shoots through him as she clamps down on him, her walls tighten, and grip at his dick. she's close.

"i feel you, you cumin' bambi?"

“y-yes, oooh fuck! i’m so close. don’t stop,"

a loud chiming erupts over the sex sounds leyna makes. armando can feel a vibration in his pocket. he reluctantly reaches and sees who’s calling his phone, he answers, while still keeping a steady pace. pumping in and in out of leyna.

“fuck, you want,” armando growls, one hand on the phone while the other holds onto leyna’s shoulder. she moans a little too loud, so he covers her mouth. over the phone one of sebastian’s groomsmen informs that sebastian has wandered off with one of the strippers, no one can find him and he’s left his phone behind. “fuck me. fuckin’ pendejo, i-i’ll be over in a minute, shit,” armando slows down his pace before pulling out completely, leyna whines at the loss of contract.

“i gotta go,” armando sighs. leyna now sits facing him.

“but why? what’s the matter?” his heart pangs at the disappointment that edges out in her voice. he quickly redresses, buckling his pants and slipping his shirt back over and on.

“a situation came up,” he leans down and kisses her on the cheek. “imma come an’ find you,”

without another look or word, armando walks out of the v.i.p. with a hard dick and an odd feeling panging in his chest.

#siribaesfics #armando aretas x oc #armando aretas x black!fem!oc #armando x oc #armando aretas fanfic #bad boys fanfiction #black fanfiction #woc fanfiction #poc fanfiction #armando aretas

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fernandopiastri28 · 8 months ago

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quand c'est? - part 1 ~ ln4 x op81

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

With whatever energy he manages to have still left in him, he slings himself over the toilet bowl and retches, his back scooped like a cat. The noise of him sputtering out the taste of bile from his mouth clearly wakes the Australian up, who knocks on the bathroom door. “Lando?” The door creaks open, revealing Oscar in a pair of burnt orange plaid pyjama pants and a white shirt, his logo printed over the breast.

warnings: major illness, cancer, sickness, major angst wc: 1655

Lando feels like he might be dying.

He reaches a hand out, patting around for the pale expanse of his boyfriend’s back, nothing, nothing, nothing. Oscar’s not there. He’s not there because Oscar’s is laying in bed, sleeping like he’s under fucking general anesthetic while Lando is on the bathroom floor, a clammy mess.

His curls stick to his forehead and there's a bead of sweat trickling down his throat. He needs Oscar in here, but his voice isn’t complying and he can’t stand, he can’t get Oscar in here. His phone is still plugged in next to Oscar, mainly to stop Lando from going on his phone late at night instead of sleeping.

Fuck Oscar for always being so caring, he needs that phone right now.

He wishes like hell that he had it with him so he could call Oscar to wake him up. Instead, he focuses his energy to his right leg that’s slightly bent. He pushes it out, flexing and straightening so his heel hits the door with a dull thud.

It hardly makes a noise, so he tries again, this time harder. It’s enough to send a shot of pain up through his foot and a high ringing in his brain, but there’s no response from Oscar. Lando stops, letting his leg fall back into its bent position and covering his face with his forearm.

He shouldn’t be trying to wake up his boyfriend, his teammate , the night before a race. Oscar’s starting in P3, and if the car continues to perform as it has been all weekend, the Aussie will get another podium to his name. Lando hadn’t been as successful in quali. He hadn't realised it then, but he was already coming down with whatever this was at the tail end of last week's race. He’d blamed it on jetlag and stress from a double header, but maybe he was genuinely sick.

Sleep isn’t coming to him, so he stares up at the ceiling of the hotel bathroom and focuses on something positive. He thinks about winning in Miami, he thinks about laughing his ass off with Carlos, he thinks about kissing Oscar for the first time. They’re nice memories, but he feels a tight pinching in his stomach that distracts him from momentarily being happy.

“Oscar,” He groans, falling back to the floor and letting his hands drop to his stomach, cradling it. There’s hardly any light seeping in from the main bedroom, yet Lando can see Oscar’s face just enough to see his features twisted in panic.

“Lando,” Oscar kneels down next to him, his strong arms scoop[ing him up so Lando is halfway to sitting. “What’s wrong, babe?” Lando doesn’t feel any words trying to come out of his mouth, and he can’t muster the strength to procure any, so he just stares at a patch of the tile wall, his eyes hazy and tired.

The back of one of Oscar’s hands presses Lando's sweaty forehead and he winces, “Lan, you’re burning up,” It’s nothing Lando doesn’t know. Right now, he just wants to crawl back into bed with Oscar on his back like a Koala until he falls asleep. He wants normality, he can’t break his routine before a race.

“Bed,”

“No Lando, you need medicine,” Oscar tuts, fussing over him by wiping his head with a wet towel. Lando must’ve blacked out for a moment because he wasn’t sure when Oscar had gotten that. He also has his sweat drenched shirt off so Oscar can wipe down his chest, and he wasn’t sure when that had gone either.

If Lando was feeling better, he’d make some joke about the moment, about Oscar being a dirty dog getting him undressed on the bathroom floor. Unfortunately, his mind is buzzing in the wrong way and his throat hurts too much to say anything.

So he stays silent, allows his eyes to just stare at Oscar as he wipes him down.

“Do you reckon you can stand up?” Lando feels nauseous at the thought, “I’ll help you, Lan, don’t worry,”

“I think so,” He leans forward, his whole body lurching with the motion. He purses his lips tight, holding back what he feels like might be another vomit. “Yeah,” Oscar’s arms are holding him tight, a hand around his waist and one on his back

“That’s good, that’s good, really good,” He praises with each step Lando makes out of the bathroom and towards the bed. God, it looks so comfortable, so warm. He wants to sleep so badly, yet it seems miles away. “When you lay down, I need you to stay awake for me just for a bit, okay?”

Lando’s mind is so foggy, “Why?”

“I need to get some medicine,” He pauses, still helping Lando to the bed, “Can you tell me where the pain is the worst? Is it just your stomach?”

Lando shakes his head, and the sudden movement hurts worse than before, “No,” He croaks. He thought it was his stomach, and that’s probably what Oscar assumed too, because of the vomiting. In actuality, his stomach is fine, it’s his head, “My.. my,” He can’t get the word out, so he brings a weak hand to his forehead.

“Your head?”

He can’t nod, and he can’t speak, so he makes a noise from the back of his throat, ‘ hmhm,’

“Alright,” His movements when lying Lando down on the bed are slow and calculated, his rounded back and ass first, then his shoulders, his legs, and his head is by Lando’s own decision. “Stay up, just a few more minutes,” Oscar reminds him, moving over to his half unpacked suitcase and rummaging through a small white cosmetics bag. Obviously, it’s not used for makeup though- medication instead.

Kim and Jon would never know about the self medication, but it was just a small few ‘harmless’ pills on nights where they didn’t want to venture out to the rooms of their trainers, begging for pain killers.

“I know, I know,” His head buries into a plush hotel pillow, the ache in his head calming down for just a moment, “I won’t fall asleep on you,”

Oscar laughs, a deep throaty laugh that Lando wants to bottle up and keep forever, “You sure look like you will,” He turns around, a bottle of pills in one hand and a half drunk water bottle in the other. “Sit up for me,”

Lando tries, he really does, but it hurts too bad. “Can’t” He whispers, and his voice doesn’t reach Oscar. A tinge of panic spreads through his body- why can’t he sit up? What is keeping him from moving? Oscar peers over him, licking his lips and biting on his bottom lip. It’s not in a sexy way, more Oscar’s ‘poker face’ of worry.

“Baku,” His nose nudges against the pillow. Oscar frowns, his hand snaking into Lando’s drying curls to stroke his face. His brain can’t process the word Azerbaijan to allow him to say it, so he settles for the track name.

Oscar presses a kiss to Lando’s forehead, “Why didn’t you tell me?” His expression is pinched- betrayed.

“It’s just a cold, Osc,” He mumbles, rolling over to where his face is at height with his boyfriend’s hips. “Drugs- please,”

Oscar smirks, rolling his eyes, “Sit up,”

“I can’t,” His head thrums harder. Oscar might feel in the mood for joking around and laughing, but Lando still feels on the brink of death. “It hurts,”

Like a light switch, he snaps back into overprotective and intense caring mode. “Let me prop your head up a bit and… yeah, okay, I’ll just pour some of the water into your mouth and put the pills in, alright?” He’s fussing again, and for once, Lando appreciates being babied.

He also appreciates Oscar’s willingness to put up with him. Some stupid head cold and now he can’t even move his head. You’d think as an F1 driver he’d be able to handle himself better, but he’s just as weak and pathetic as the next guy when he’s unwell.

Oscar sits down cross legged right next to Lando, the Brit's head right next to the Aussie’s knee. He doesn’t do anything, just lets Oscar take care of him. Usually, he’s insistent on taking care of himself, but he can’t quite manage it today.

His head rests on Oscar’s lap, the fabric of his pants rubbing comfortingly against Lando’s warm cheeks. Oscar’s thumb presses against the seam of Lando’s lips, helping him to keep his mouth open. A tiny bit of water lands in his mouth, and he’s having trouble processing anything. “Swallow,” Oscar reminds him, and it’s not under the circumstances he’d usually like to be hearing his boyfriend say that.

His throat works to do just that, all of his focus and energy going towards such a natural and practised movement. He gets them down, and his body feels drained from doing absolutely nothing. Maybe it’s just the Singapore air- so humid and hot, he’s probably suffering some form of heatstroke. It’s a lot like Qatar last year, but just worse.

“You can sleep now,” Oscar strokes his hair intensely gently. Lando still feels sticky and hot despite having had the blanket removed from on top of him, likely something Oscar had done without him realising, and he’s only in his boxers. It’s not going to be a pleasant sleep, he knows that much, but it’s better than being awake like this.

#oscar piastri #lando norris #lando x oscar #landoscar #f1 #formula1 #formula one #mclaren #f1 2024 #fernandopiastri28 #sickfic #fanfic #ln4 #op81

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hometoursandotherstuff · 2 years ago

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Can’t resist this glamorous pink 1921 Mediterranean Revival in Miami Beach, Florida. 9bd. 6.5ba. $8.5M.

It’s been restored and it appears that the beamed coffered ceiling and fireplace have been painted white as usually happens when people remodel.

The small office is quite colorful with it’s tiger wallpaper.

Lovely sunroom. It kind of looks like bringing the outdoors in.

The dining room. I do like the wallpaper, but the carpet kind of detracts from it. Look at the view of the garden from that window.

Very white kitchen with an everyday table and Spanish tile stairs to the upper floor.

Spacious main bd. with a fireplace.

Large walk-in closet/dressing.

Makeup table.

And, matching bath.

Like pink flamingo wallpaper in the room, but I’m not too keen on the green paint.

Smaller bedroom has a cool floor.

One of the other baths. I always liked a floating sink.

This is beautiful.

Large patio with a pool and look at the size of terrace on the 2nd floor.

https://www.dirt.com/gallery/more-dirt/real-estate-listings/miami-beach-pink-house-ximina-caminos-1203634610/pinkmiami_c/

#mediterranean revival #houses #house tours #home tour

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half-eclipse · 4 months ago

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⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ regressor!daisy x cg!karen ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 [fic]

daisy has a nightmare and karen makes it better<3

note: i didn’t read this back so hopefully its okay, also my first ever lil fic :,)

Daisy wakes in a cold sweat, her nightmare jolting her body upwards. She breathes heavily, tears spilling down her cheeks as she hugs her knees to her chest. She clutches the stuffed dog beside her, trying to soothe her racing heart.

Her nightmare had been one of the worst she’s had in a long time. It replays in her mind, broken fragments of the night in Miami, all alone and cold on the shower floor tiles. The memories suddenly feel too fresh and real, the fear and pain flooding back to her in an instant.

She wants Karen. She fidgets with the sheets underneath her, her hands shaking. She glances at the door that separates her room from Karen’s, where she’s no doubt sleeping soundly. It wouldn’t be fair, she thinks, to disturb Karen at this hour. They’d all had a long day in the studio the day before, everyone returning to their beds that night far too early and far too exhausted.

She lets out a shaky sigh, feeling small and vulnerable in the dark room.

Maybe Karen would think it was stupid. Daisy is an adult, why couldn’t she lull herself back to sleep? Except, right now she doesn’t feel like an adult. She feels like that lonely little girl, struggling night after night to fall asleep with no one around willing to comfort her.

Before she realizes it, her thumb is making her way to her mouth. She knows Karen would chastise her for it, saying it’s yucky and bad for her teeth. But she’ll take any amount of comfort right now, still weighing the pros and cons of waking Karen.

A branch outside cracks against her window and then she’s up, clutching her stuffed dog to her chest. She pads quietly towards Karen’s room, not wanting to disturb the other band members sleeping peacefully in their own rooms. She wouldn’t know how to explain why she’s making her way to Karen’s room at this time of night if she were to be caught.

Daisy hesitates outside of Karen’s cracked open door, her mind filling with doubts. But her need to be held by Karen outweighs the fear of disturbing her, and she raises her trembling hand to knock gently.

“Karen?” She calls quietly, voice far too small and timid. She waits a few beats, chewing on the skin around her thumb, heart beating rapidly in her chest. Karen doesn’t even stir.

Daisy feels a pang of stupidity, and for a moment she considers turning around and going back to her own room. But she feels so small and she needs Karen to help her brain stop feeling so clouded and messy. She tries again, voice cracking as she hiccups a little sob.

Karen wakes at this, rubbing her eyes as she sits up. “Daisy?” She asks, voice sleepy. Karen was never one to wake up too fast. “What are you doing awake?”

Daisy’s sniffle tells her everything she needs to know, and she leans over to click on the salt lamp on her nightstand. The soft, warm light illuminates the room in a gentle glow, enough that she can see Daisy’s terrified, tear-streaked face and the little dog clutched tightly to her chest.

She’s immediately awake, protectiveness washing over her. “Oh, sweetheart, was it a bad dream?” She says gently, pushing the covers around until there’s a spot for Daisy. She pats the space beside her, welcoming Daisy in.

Daisy immediately clambers over, crawling into the sheets and snuggling into Karen’s chest. “Bad dream.” She lisps out, hiccuping now. Karen’s face softens and she rubs Daisy’s arms.

“Do you wanna tell me about it?” She asks the trembling girl, pushing sweaty bangs away from her face. Daisy shakes her head no, breath picking up again.

“Hey, hey, Daisy, look at me.” She coos, lifting Daisy’s head to meet her eyes. “You don’t have to tell me, love.” Her voice is soft and soothing, and she takes Daisy’s hand that isn’t clinging to the soft plush and places it on her chest so Daisy can feel her heartbeat.

“I want you to breathe with me, okay? Follow me.” She takes a deep breath, and Daisy mirrors her shakily, feeling the steady rhythm of Karen’s heartbeat under her chest. It grounds her, and she calms slowly, making Karen smile.

“There you go. There’s my girl.” She says quietly, pulling Daisy in to kiss her forehead.

Daisy smiles then, a wave of peace washing over her. How silly of her to think that Karen would’ve thought it was stupid, when she’s the one person in the entire world who has probably seen every side of her, who understands all her pain and fears.

Her thumb moves towards her mouth, and Karen gently stops her before she can reach her lips. “No, little love. That’s no good for you. Where’s your pacifier?” She asks, and Daisy just shrugs, a pout forming on her lips.

Karen detaches herself from the smaller girl, who whines at the loss of contact immediately, fearing that Karen will get up and leave. Instead, Karen shushes her gently, pulling out a soft brown pacifier from her nightstand.

“Here you go, Dais.” She kisses her cheeks, making the girl giggle as she takes the pacifier in her mouth. She whispers a small thank you around her pacifier, immediately clinging to Karen again.

She clicks off the salt lamp, tucking the sheet over Daisy gently. “It’s too late for someone so small to be awake. Can you close your eyes for me, hun?”

Daisy is already a few steps ahead, eyes drooping sleepily as she snuggles closer to Karen. She nods, not fully listening to what Karen is saying, just enjoying the feeling of being so close to the other girl. Karen strokes her hair, falling back asleep beside her.

⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

#daisy jones agere #agere headcanons #sfw agere #daisy jones and the six agere #fandom agere #age regression #daisy

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villargallery · 9 months ago

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Villar Tile, a family-owned enterprise since 1978, brings over 30 years of expertise in crafting top-tier designs and functional products.

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kimberlaylk · 1 year ago

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Pedini Miami introduces an unparalleled experience in organization and style with our luxury walk-in closets. Imbued with sophistication and functionality, our walk-in closet designs transform storage into a showcase of opulence.

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topknot32 · 8 months ago

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Miami (3/5)

Rio/OFC

summary- olivia and chris's story continues three weeks after the events of designated driver. olivia meets chris at a local diner for breakfast, but things don't go as planned, hurtling her life down a new path.

warnings- 18+ Smut below the cut.

word count- 4.2K

note- I’ve gone completely off the rails with this story. I meant for it to be a two shot at most but I’ve expanded it to four and now Rio has some backstory that I didn’t plan. Sometimes when I start writing the thing writes itself and I’m just along for the ride. Anyways, enjoy! 🖤

tags- @lauraaan182

A few hours after arriving, Olivia was nothing more than a taut bundle of nerves. She sat up in the king sized bed in the guest room of Chris's house, staring at Kai asleep on the opposite side. She hadn't seen Chris at all since he brought her up, and she was left to consider what she was really doing here.

Not able to sit idly any longer, she got out of bed, making sure to tuck the covers tightly around Kai before heading into the bathroom attached to the bedroom. It was massive with a shower spanning one entire wall featuring stained glass windows. She wandered, running her fingers over the finely crafted cabinetry, the expensive soaps and shampoos, the fluffy white robe hanging on a hook beside the shower door. It seemed like no comfort had been skipped over, and she wondered if he did this for her or if it was always this way.

Olivia opened the shower door and turned the tap to the hottest setting and waited for the steam to fill up the glass box. She stripped and stepped inside, letting the heat nearly singe her skin. It stung, but it felt good at the same time. Once her hair was washed and conditioned, she leaned against the tile wall, sliding down to sit and let the water pour over her.

She wanted to believe there was good in Chris, but he wanted Beth dead, and that was something Olivia couldn't accept. She was beginning to think coming here truly was a mistake, but she couldn't deny the way she felt about him, the way he made her skin flush and heart race. Even under his suspicious eye, there was a part of her that was so glad to see him, a piece that felt safe.

There'd been so much happening back home with her quitting the business with Beth and trying to rebuild her life without it that she hadn't let herself feel just how much she missed him, but she felt it now. Olivia rested her face in her hands and tried to clear her mind so she could go back in there and sleep. It had to be close to three in the morning by now, and she'd promised Kai the beach, and she would keep it no matter what Chris or any of his security guards said.

A while later, she toweled off, coated every inch of her skin in the fancy moisturizer by the sink, and wrapped herself in one of the fluffy robes. She headed back into the bedroom feeling like sleep was a possibility, but that disappeared when she opened the door to find Chris sitting on the floor at the end of the bed, his knees pulled up with his elbows resting on them.

"What are you doing in here?" she whispered, pressing a hand over her racing heart.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Olivia checked to see if Kai was still sound asleep. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Shouldn't you?"

She crossed her arms over her chest like a stubborn child and held his gaze. It went on so long that he finally looked down at the floor, shaking his head. "Why am I here, Christopher?"

"I don't know," he said in a moment of vulnerability that was foreign to her.

Olivia came over and sat down beside him on the floor, leaning her back against the bed. "Well, I noticed you have an incredibly well-stocked guest bathroom." She tried to break the tension. "And if you did that for me, then I'm grateful."

Chris turned to look at her, and she felt almost naked under the weight. "This is my room," he said, and she stared at him like an idiot for a second. "Its uh, the one place without twenty-four hour surveillance, but it's the safest room in the house." He looked back down and nodded his head slowly to himself.

"Why am I here?" she tried again.

"I told you already. I missed you."

"You don't do all this just because you missed someone you hooked up with a few times."

"That all it was to you?" he asked, and for the second time she felt like she was seeing the vulnerable side of him she'd never seen before. She didn't even know it existed.

"I don't know what it was because you disappeared for eight months before we could figure it out."

"I was facing life, Olivia, and I got too much to live for to spend the next seventy years behind bars."

It was her turn to look down. "I'm not mad at you for leaving. I just wish you'd left me a note or a sign or something."

"I didn't know who to trust. I'm sorry."

"But you trust me now, right?"

Chris reached out and tipped her chin up. "Funny enough, you're about the only one I can. I think I knew it all along, but I had to be sure. I can't hurt my son, Olivia." She glanced back in Kai's direction, thinking of Marcus. "You forgive me?"

She knew he was being sincere, and she was tired of being angry and anxious. Olivia sat up on her knees and crawled into his lap, straddling him, pulling the robe up around her thighs. His hands automatically slid beneath the fabric gripping the naked skin of her ass in both hands.

He was wearing sweats so she could feel everything through them as she settled over his hips. She leaned in and kissed him, and he wasted no time, slipping his tongue past her lips to stroke against her own. It sent a shockwave of desire straight between her legs, but she thought of Kai and pulled back.

Chris was staring up at her with a calm expression. His hands wandered down her thighs and then back up but on the outside of the robe, seeming to understand why she stopped without having to say it. "You should go to sleep," he whispered, kissing her again. Chris lifted her off his lap so he could stand, and held out a hand to help her up. "I'm downstairs in the office if you need me." He squeezed her hand before heading for the door, making sure to close it behind him.

When the sun came up, Olivia felt the lack of sleep like a slap to the face, but Kai, who slept like a baby, was ready to begin the vacation festivities promptly at seven in the morning. Despite needing three more hours of sleep ay least, she bathed and dressed Kai in a pair of swim trunks and a rash guard since his soft skin wasn't accustomed to the UV rays of southern Florida. Olivia threw her hair into a ponytail and changed into the only bathing suit she brought along with a simple white t-shirt dress.

Kai nearly ripped her arm out of socket dragging her out of the room and down the stairs only to find Marcus in the living room with an older woman who looked to be in her late forties. They were both in what appeared to be outfits suited for the beach, too. Chris was no where to be found.

"I'm Sofia," the woman said with a smile, holding out her hand for Olivia to shake. "The nanny."

"Olivia, this is Kai," she said.

Kai kept a firm grip on her hand. He remembered Marcus, smiling shyly at the boy, but it seemed he was done meeting strangers, and he stood so close to Olivia's legs he was nearly hiding behind them.

"I watch the boy while Señor Christopher is working. Would you like me to take your son out to the beach? You could stay here and relax."

Olivia took Kai's hand tightly in hers. "I think I'll join you. It's his first time seeing the ocean, and I'd like to be there."

Sofia smiled warmly. "Okay, I've packed some snacks and sunscreen. Let's go, shall we?"

The four of them gathered up a few things from outside on the patio like chairs, an umbrella, sand toys, and a life jacket for Kai since he wasn't a confident swimmer, and headed down the stone pathway that eventually faded to sand. Olivia couldn't believe what she was seeing as they walked, the sheer size of the property and the fact that they had their own private beach without a single other soul in sight. Kai instantly bonded with Marcus as if no time had passed, and the two took off running ahead of Sofia and Olivia.

"How long will you be joining us?" Sofia asked as she helped Olivia fold out the chairs.

"My flight back is a week from yesterday, but this place is so incredible I might never go."

Sofia laughed warmly. "It really is beautiful here. Señor Christopher works hard for it, sacrifices a lot of time with his son."

"What does he do exactly?" Olivia asked, and Sofia just shook her head.

"I'm just the nanny, dear. I don't ask questions."

Olivia considered they while pulling her dress over her head to reveal her bathing suit. It was baby pink with thin ties on the side. She grabbed the bottle of sunscreen, slathering it on as best she could before calling Kai over to cover what the rash guard and trunks didn't. He was beaming, and Olivia's chest swelled.

"I love you," she whispered in his ear before sending him on his way to play in the surf with Marcus. She loved the way he giggled and jumped every time the water tickled his feet.

With a pair of sunglasses on, Olivia settled back in her chair prepared to do absolutely nothing other than bake in the sun and helicopter over her son to make sure he didn't get hurt in the ocean. Sofia was quiet, choosing to pull out a book, but Olivia caught they way she looked up every few seconds to check on the boys. Olivia could only imagine the kind of threats that'd been made to ensure Chris's son's safety when he was without Chris or Rhea.

They sat out in the sun for so long Olivia was sure she was going to be sporting the worst sunburn of her life, but the boys were having too much fun to make them come in. She alternated between playing in the surf, splashing Kai and Marcus, and helping Kai learn how to tread water where the ocean was still and calm, and roasting in the lawn chair. After a little while, she moved her chair beneath the umbrella with Sofia, and closed her eyes for a few seconds, the nanny keeping watch as the boys built a lopsided sandcastle.

"Dad! Look what we built!" Marcus called out later.

Olivia had almost drifted off, but she snapped to attention internally, her stomach fluttering with butterflies. She didn't move a muscle and kept the sunglasses over her eyes to conceal the way she was feeling.

"Yeah, little man, I see it. Looks like you might need some reinforcements on that left side though," Chris said, his voice coming from just over her shoulder. "Hey, mama."

She felt weight on the back of her chair, and she tipped her head up to see him leaning over the back of it, but his eyes weren't focused on her face. They were soaking up her body in the light pink bikini.

"Hey," Olivia said just as he came around and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips. It was as if it was the most natural thing in the world to him, and the butterflies swooped lower.

He was wearing a white button down with the classic well-fitting black jeans, but his fingers started working the buttons open. She tried not to stare, but she couldn't help herself. As it dropped from his shoulders, exposing all of his tan, tattooed skin, she felt her mouth go dry. He tossed his shirt at her, and it landed in her lap. The cologne she loved so much lingered on the fabric, and she resisted the urge to press it to her face.

His arms weren't the only part of him sporting new ink, and she admired the new piece across the left side of his chest, and the one lower that started on his ribcage and dipped over his hip into the waist of his jeans. He reached for the button of them, and pushed them down to reveal a pair of black briefs.

"Didn't have time to grab trunks," Chris said, turning back to smirk at her. Olivia crossed one leg over the other and sat up a little straighter, feeling the hot desire start to build between them, and by the way he clocked that motion, he knew exactly what he was doing. "One of the benefits to having a private beach, huh?"

Chris made his way over to the boys, picking Marcus up with an arm around his torso, then doing the same to Kai so he was holding them both. Both boys screamed and flailed, trying pointlessly to get away, but they were laughing too, and the sound warmed Olivia's heart. Chris walked into the shallows and dropped them like sacks of potatoes before making sure each surfaced.

The three of them played for a long time, and Olivia was content to watch. Her skin was warm to the touch, her limbs heavy, and if she closed her eyes for too long she'd definitely fall asleep. Sofia brought an insulated bag down, and she pulled a few sandwiches out, offering Olivia one, but she just shook her head. Sofia called for the boys and they came running like their pants were on fire. Both snatched up what she was offering along with two cups of juice and a plastic container of cut up fruit.

While the nanny busied herself with the kids, Chris came up the beach soaking wet, and he placed his hands on the armrests of her chair and leaned down for another kiss, dripping ocean water onto her. Olivia shivered at the sensation as she kissed him, the droplets sending a sheet of goosebumps across her slightly sunburnt skin. When Chris pulled back, there was a hint of mischief in his dark brown eyes. It excited her.

He kissed her again, this one a little harder with a little more need behind it, and Olivia had to be the one to break it before they got too carried away. Chris's eyes burnt worse than the sun everywhere they looked.

"You want an official tour?" Chris whispered, still leaning down.

She wanted ten minutes alone with him, that's what she really wanted. "I can't leave Kai."

"Sofia won't let anything happen to them. She's CPR certified and trained in ocean rescue. Plus Mick and Javier are on watch." He looked over the back of her chair, and Olivia turned to see each of them guarding a different side of the beach. Both had their backs turned, but she could see they were holding very large guns in hand.

Olivia looked to Kai who was having the time of his life. When he caught her eye, he grinned wide and held up his sandwich for her to see. "Can mama leave you with Miss Sofia for just a few minutes?" she asked.

Chris stood back up and grabbed his clothes, pulling his jeans back on since he was nearly dry already from the power of the sun. Kai seemed to contemplate his answer, looking from the nanny to Marcus, then out to the beach where their sand toys waited. Finally he nodded.

Olivia stood and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Have fun, I'll see you in a few minutes."

She grabbed her dress and slipped it on, and Chris reached for her hand once it was in place. They walked up the beach barefoot, fingers laced together, and Olivia couldn't remember the last time she felt this happy.

"You good here?" Chris asked. "I didn't mean to be gone so long. I had a meeting first thing and it ran over."

Olivia gave him a bewildered expression, and he laughed. "Am I good? In a multimillion dollar tropical oasis with nannies and armed security on site?"

"And a private beach," he teased. "Don't forget that."

She threw her free hand up. "Yeah, don't forget the private beach. I'm never leaving. Screw your non refundable round trip plane tickets."

Chris dragged her in and slipped his arm around her neck. She could feel his chest vibrate with a laugh as she pressed her cheek against it. They walked up the path until sand turned to stone pavers, and the beach became the perfectly landscaped backyard.

She hadn't had a ton of time to look around on their way out to the beach, but now she could see it all. A clear blue swimming pool spanned the length of the patio, equipped with a hot tub and water slide. The back of the house had multistory decks leading from the main floor to the second, all attaching to the platform of the slide that was big enough to hold several seating arrangements and a partial outdoor kitchen. The back of the house itself was shaped like a giant C, the sides hugging the enormous backyard with verandas on all sides creating a very open air type feel.

"How did you find this place?" she asked as she looked around.

"It was a gift to my great-grandfather, an offering for a mutually beneficial working relationship," Chris said, standing back so she could wander uninhibited.

"From who, Pablo Escobar?" She laughed at her joke, but Chris didn't.

"Somethin' like that."

She snapped back around to see that he was serious. "What?"

"Detroit was an experiment, Olivia," he started, crossing his arms over his chest. "To see if it was lucrative to branch into other markets. It wasn't. I gave it more time than it deserved because I had a son, but this—" he motioned around them. "This is where I come from. This is who I am."

A new kind of apprehension seeded itself in the center of her chest. She stopped exploring the backyard paradise, and met his gaze head on. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I spent eight months trying to prove to myself that you were no better than Elizabeth Boland, that you were just like everyone else who'd ever played me, but you were the opposite. You were loyal."

"You suddenly trust me so much, to think I would never tell anyone about this place?"

Chris slowly walked over to her, and she found it difficult to hold his intense gaze. "Like I said, you might be the only one I can trust. Remember, I put wires in your house, Olivia. Every phone call, every fuckin' playdate, every date," he said, smirking. "I heard it."

She scoffed. "You listened to all of that?"

"Yeah, the loser you brought home who couldn't get it up—" He raised a hand to brush against her cheek, but she was put off by the violation despite how he was looking at her like his next meal. "I should cut his dick off just for the trouble." Olivia shoved him off. That memory was embarrassing enough without having him shove it in her face, knowing he heard it. He raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry, that one stung a little, not gonna lie." He took her wrist and pressed it against his chest. "I'm a jealous man, I admit it."

"I think this is the most you've ever spoken to me at one time since I met you," she said softly.

"Why'd you drop your soccer mom squad?"

Olivia looked up into his eyes, and she considered the question. There were hundreds of reasons, but the one she always came back to was the way it felt to spend three weeks with him before it all went to shit. He opened up to her, trusted her, and even though he made mistakes, what Beth did was wrong. Olivia still saw Annie on occasion, for drinks to catch up, but things were different. Beth was her sister and she had to stand by her side.

Instead of giving him a verbal answer, Olivia leaned up on her toes and kissed him. She slid her other hand up his arm to rest against the side of his neck, holding him to her. Chris let go of her wrist and went for her hips, walking her backward as the kiss turned more fevered. So easily she lost rational thought when his mouth was involved. The backs of her legs hit wood, and she planted her palm down on the surface of one of the patio tables just as Chris hooked his hands under her knees, lifting her up onto it.

Chris pulled back, keeping his hips pressed into her center, looking down at their compromising position. His long fingers slowly, teasingly danced up her calves, across her kneecaps, to her thighs. Her breaths came short with anticipation, slipping her legs up to rest around his waist . Every inch of her body remembered the pleasure he could so easily draw out, and she craved it like nothing else, but he refused to go any further than her thighs. The rough pads of his fingers stroked just beneath the hem of her dress that'd ridden up so he could see the peek of pink of her bottoms covering her pussy.

Olivia watched him as he stared hard at that spot, and she could see the wheels turning inside his head as he mindlessly drew shapes against the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thighs. "You do—" he started, but hesitated. He cleared his throat and dragged his eyes up to meet hers. "You do somethin' to me no one else does, and if I didn't have a houseful of security just through those windows, I'd make you come until you begged me to stop. Right here."

Her breath caught in her throat, and a fresh chill rippled down her spine at the promise in his tone. Without looking away, Olivia reached between them and ran her hand down from his abdomen into the waist of his jeans, popping the button as inconspicuously as possible. His cock was so hard already, and using their bodies as a shield, she wrapped her fingers around it. A sharp breath left his chest, and he claimed her lips in a bruising kiss.

Olivia had had enough of talking. She just wanted to make him feel good, to watch him unravel. She stroked his cock slowly, doing her best within the confines of his clothes. His own hands slid up her thighs beneath the material of her dress, and he squeezed her ass, forcing their bodies even closer together.

Every time she brushed her thumb against the head, a low moan vibrated out of his chest and into hers, and she did it over and over until his hips jerked, the air stuttering out of his throat as he broke the kiss, and she knew he was close. She risked a quick glance back over her shoulder to make sure there were no prying eyes staring out the window or kids coming back from the beach before she pushed his jeans down some. With a few more strokes and soft words whispered in his ear, Chris came, and she took it all on the thin material of her pink bikini bottoms. She was sure there'd be marks on her ass the next day by how hard he dug his fingers in, but she found that the idea didn't bother her in the slightest. She hoped she'd see them when she checked in the mirror.

Chris rested his forehead against her shoulder as he caught his breath, and she couldn't help but smile. For so long she'd been terrified of the man she was currently holding onto, but now she knew that for some reason she didn't quite understand, she held power over him. It didn't make any sense. He could have anyone, but she was the one here in his ridiculously lavish home. She liked the way it made her feel, and for the first time, Olivia allowed herself to consider what this could really look like.

Olivia felt him laugh as he did up his jeans and pressed a kiss to her shoulder through the fabric of her dress. She leaned back to see what was so funny, and he just shook his head.

"You bring anything to wear to dinner?" he asked, tilting his head up with a smirk, and she almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the question right now.

"I mean, not really," she said with a smile spreading, too.

"Cool, we'll go shopping first. I'll have Sofia get the boys ready."

Olivia tried to pull her dress down to cover the evidence of what they'd been up to. That made his smirk spread even wider.

"I can handle Kai. It's no big deal."

Chris came back, resting his hands on her knees. He leaned in to steal another kiss. "Relax, mama. You don't have to do it all here."

She froze as she considered the idea of not being responsible for every single chore, every task. With that, Chris headed inside.

#rio good girls #netflix good girls #good girls fic #manny montana #manny mayans #annie marks #beth boland

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