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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 9

As promised, two chapters in one day! HBD to this trash rabbit. I just get thirstier with age.

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. DRUG USE IN THIS CHAPTER. Just generally an uncomfortable vibe, thread carefully.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Ooh, boy. This is a whole mess. Angst. [insert drugs owl meme]. Steve doesn't pass the vibe check yet again, stupid old man. Bruce + Tony be like: I CAN'T GET NO SLEEP CUZ OF Y'ALL.

My beta, whomst I love more than cake - @miscmarvelwritings . She's so beautiful though. And so smart. Wow.

The strobe lights pulsated to the rhythm of the music, bodies swaying, gyrating to the tune. The club was banging this time of night, people were living it up like there was no tomorrow. For me, in the VIP zone it was quieter, calmer, but no less exciting. The atmosphere here was distinctly different from the one on the main floor.

It was hard to wallow in misery even if it only took me an hour to stop resisting the gratuitous amounts of white powder on the silver platters. "It's better when you're there to watch them, they'll do it anyway but at least you can know that they're getting the good stuff!" My idiot father proudly announced, looking at me snorting a line through a rolled up hundred dollar bill.

Whiskey and vodka wasn't doing it for me. It made me feel low and Dad, being Dad, of course noticed it and immediately called a guy who knew a guy and suddenly all of his friends and their baby-faced companions had white under their noses. Cash flew like autumn leaves.

As I went out to the main dance floor to get a closer look at Billie Eilish in all of her edgy, beautiful self, the drug hit me like an avalanche. No trace of the grogginess or the mortification that had hitched a ride on me from Stark tower. I danced and sang and saw dad smiling at me in approval, his equally high and important friends all wearing identically predatory smirks. They were good at spotting the obvious - beauty, talent, money. I had no qualms about the fact that dad was off bragging about my close relationship with Tony. If my father was feeling particularly bold, he'd be telling them he knew and encouraged it all along, his buddies pretending to believe the white lie in turn.

I had exchanged my pants and sneakers in favour of a skirt and fishnets with high heels combo, a decidedly inappropriate attire for a daughter having a family night with her father but he insisted I dress trendy. I loved my dad, I really did, and I knew he meant well - I'd definitely be out of place amongst these TVscreen worthy people in my jeans and sneakers but...Tony was one of those people, and he had never ever said anything bad about the way I dress. Even when I obviously and purposely put on obscene clothing just to get a rise out of someone.Tony just smiled and played along.

Tony Stark was the heartless asshole here? Really, press? Really, haters?

"Standing there, killing time, can't commit to anything but a crime..." I sang along quietly as I hurried back to the VIP area. My dad was standing up and so were a couple of his buddies. "Where's ya goin'?" I asked, taking a seat.

"Be right back baby girl, if you find better company then go on without us," Dad winked, throwing a totally nasty glance at one of the girls. She was not much older than me but her body was stick thin and bolt-ons and Botox were her two best friends. She gave me a dirty look and I returned it, extending a waiting hand towards my dad. He chuckled, depositing a neatly rolled stack of hundreds into my palm.

"Dad, I want a new purse," I whined, just a tad. Just to see the girl's eyes go wide with acrid envy. Dutifully, another couple of stacks landed in my palm without any objections and the company retreated towards the back door.

I sighed.

Fiddled with the straw of my drink a bit, contemplating my options. I could always ditch this party and go somewhere more active, somewhere with better music and kinder people.

"Ay, baby girl, you wanna party with us?" A tall, handsome man from dad's previous company approached me. "We'll have some fun." He maintained a respectful distance but the intentions were clear.

"Nope," I popped the sound, not even sparing him a glance. A few lines of cocaine stared at me from the table beckoning with a better high, a stronger sense of euphoria, confidence and energy to dance, to sing, to be happy. I picked up one of the discarded banknotes, quickly rolling it by a sheer force of habit and cleaning up the tray. One line.

"Holy shit, is that..."

Two lines.

"The fuck?!" I recognised that voice. I have been hearing it every day in the labs, I've been hearing it in my dreams.

Tony was gaping at me, in front of me.

"Hey, Tony. Fancy seeing you here." Any other time, I'd be cringing at my lame greeting but I was feeling way too good to care about trivial things like being clever or being appropriate.

"I was looking...for you," He slowly said, putting a single finger on the tray with the last line of coke and pulling it out of my reach.

"That's funny," I snorted, hastily wiping at my nose to cover the tracks of my very bad, very immoral, very illegal activities.

"It's not, Princess, it's not funny at all," He frowned. "C'mon, we're leaving." And extended his hand. I decided to follow along - there was nothing for me to do at this club anyway, the music was lame and the people were stuck-up.

"I look like a prostitute, Tony, I'll take the back door," I attempted to pull him towards the aforementioned but he didn't budge, just stared straight ahead and towed me along like he was wearing one of his iron suits under the stylish jeans and tee get-up.

He stopped in front of the exit, giving me a critical once over. Wiped my face, again, brushed my hair back. Gave me his shades - I dutifully put them on, figuring the manic look in my eyes was anything but attractive right now. "Jesus Christ, Princess," He sounded desperate. "You're beautiful, don't you fucking worry."

And we made our exit, arm in arm, me trying not to stumble in my high heels, Tony being my rock, my solid foundation. In other words, I was hanging onto him for dear life trying not to fall over and give a reason for a sneaking paparazzi to make a scandalous headline.

"You're doing great, Princess," Tony helped me into his Tesla, slamming the door behind me and hurrying towards the driver's door. I managed to unclasp and kick off my shoes, curling up comfortably into the passenger's seat.

I watched the man as he started the engine and watched him wrestle with whatever personal demons that tormented him as he peeled off and raced into the Friday night city.

"What in the everlasting fuck..." He started, stopping abruptly mid-sentence. "How did you even get in there?"

"I came with dad. He literally ditched me to fuck some whore, like, twenty minutes before you showed up." I shrugged, eyeing the modified panel of the car. It was very obviously Tony's own design. I wondered if he could introduce me to Elon Musk someday.

"What the fuck? And correct me if I didn't hear you clearly," Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "Your father took it upon himself to drag you to a club, get you drunk, gave you cocaine and fucked off with some groupies?"

"Yah, that's about it. My dad is all about cocaine and whores, the more the better," I replied, leaning in to take a closer look at the car's panel. "Hey, could, like, introduce me to Elon Musk someday? That would be fuckin' awesome."

Tony went eerily quiet, I saw his knuckles on the steering wheel go white. Vague expletives were muttered under his breath. "I'm guessing you're good on sleep?" He finally asked through gritted teeth.

"Sleep? Don't know her," I laughed. "I wanna dance, Tony."

"Of course you do, Princess." His smile was tired and forced and full of pity. "You know, I don't think I'll be able to sleep now, either," He admitted, taking a sharp left. "How about we get some McDonald's and camp out in my lab?"

"Sure, whatever," Not like I had much choice in the matter. What I really craved was a good, long, hard fuck (by Tony himself preferably) but if science calls... I have no choice but to comply. "Get me two Big Macs," I demanded least he try to joke and get me a Happy Meal or some shit.

He did get me the food without any usual grumbling. I didn't like this Tony. Tired Tony, sad Tony, angry Tony. Wrong Tony.

"Huh?" He said and I realized I'd said the last part out loud.

"I don't like a sad Tony,” I said. "It's the wrong kind. Sassy, snarky and perpetually caffeinated Tony is the best Tony. The only proper kind, in fact." I stated with seriousness, shoes dangling from one hand and my McDonald's in the other. Man, I have been seeing more and more of this god-damned elevator recently.

"You're high as a kite, darling," He chuckled then, a real laugh.

"Who's high?" Bruce's voice came from the kitchen.

In a state of blind panic, I jumped behind Tony. "Not me."

Tony palmed his face.

Steve came over from the fridge, leaving the rummaging to Bucky. He took one look at me and suddenly I felt small, insignificant like an ant. I didn't like it much. "Holy hell, the fuck happened? Tony, explain." The Captain demanded, giving me the world's biggest stink eye.

"It's her piece of shit of a father, dragged her off to some night club and left her hanging with his buddies, fucking off god knows where. It's not her fault so lay the fuck off, Rogers, with your self-righteousness," Tony exploded all over Steve, the pent up frustration rearing it's ugly head.

I mustered enough courage to tiptoe around the dick measuring contest to sit at the counter. My appetite was gone and my burgers were turning colder and soggier with every passing second. Just like my life.

"Hey, Princess," Bruce's gentle voice halted my train of thought. He approached me carefully, ignoring the men behind me in favour of simply wrapping me up in a quiet, comfortable hug. "You feel alright? Want some water?"

"Nu-uh," I mumbled, unwilling to part ways with the warmth of this embrace.

"... Steve, I found her snorting miles of coke all by herself while an some jackass was waiting for her to be even more out of it. It's rare that I say this but I had literally zero words." Tony punctuated his words by tapping his fist against the wall multiple times.

Bruce tightened his hold on me, a sudden influx of strength accompanied by a quiet, low growl in his throat.

I felt the sudden need to clarify the situation. "Tony, chill. It takes me a lot more to be out of it, I'm fucking coherent and I'm talking sensibly. It's not my first rodeo."

Apparently I'd gone and said the wrong thing because all the men in the room were suddenly growling. I even totally forgot about Bucky who had the uncanny ability to exist in a room without making absolutely any sort of noise.

"The fuck do you even mean by that, Princess?" Tony screeched, probably already knowing that answer.

"From one rich kid to another, you should damn well fuckin' know," I spat, unwilling to admit my misery.

He sighed, audibly deflating behind me. I refused to listen to him, refused to be humiliated and exposed like that for my perfectly human desire to be happy. To not be a disappointment, to not be disappointed in everything and everyone. Bruce was nice and kind and warm and selfless but even he couldn't love me the way I wanted to be loved. Cherished, taken care of. All that mushy stuff. I was selfish, so I snuggled in closer to him, muting the world around me, replacing it with the smell and feel of him.

Cocaine made it a whole lot easier to imagine. Maybe that's why it was so addictive.

"Guys, calm down, you're stressing everyone out," Bruce rumbled quietly. I loved the way his deep voice seemed to reverb throughout his chest.

"Get me a cup of coffee, would you, Buckaroo?" Tony sighed again. I heard the sound of him slurping at his coffee. I heard Bucky's metal arm clunk against something equally metallic before the supersoldiers bid everyone good night and walked off.

Only then I removed my face from Bruce enough to take a good look at Tony. He was eyeing me, too.

"We have a caffeinated Tony," I said, softly. "Now we just need some science to have a happy Tony."

He smiled but it came out watery. He wanted to say something but choked on his words. "C'mere," He finally said, turning in his chair and opening his arms.

I unashamedly made grabby hands, the universal gesture for ‘I want, gimme’, and Bruce delightfully deposited me into Tony's waiting arms. It was like my birthday and Christmas came out all at once. Tony's embrace was warm, like Bruce's, but tinted with an unexpected familiarity. He smelled like motor oil and fancy cologne. It was heavenly.

"You keeping tabs on me, huh? Coffee, science and sass? That's your recipe for happiness?" The engineer asked me, a seriousness that didn't match the joking tone of the conversation at all.

"I think I got you figured out. Peter, too, is important for happiness. But in controlled amounts," I said, giving it a careful thought.

Tony chuckled, sounding a little bit shocked. "What about you?" He said after a brief moment of silence passed, interrupted only by Bruce's tea kettle coming to a slow boil.

"I don't think you need me for happiness," I said, meaning it. "But let's be honest, I'm a nice addition."

He stilled under me, briefly. Bruce cleared his throat.

"Brucie needs me, I think. He's lonely," I told Tony with a sudden influx of desire to be completely honest and 100% transparent. "And it makes me happy, because I need Bruce too. He's the best," I finished.

"Is that so?" Tony sounded vaguely tearful so I attempted to pull back to take a good look at his face. He didn't let me though, gently but firmly pressing my face back into his chest. "And me?"

"I do need you, Tones," I admitted without spilling any unnecessary details.

There was a child within me, small and scared and lonely, like Bruce. I hated her, hated being so soft and needy when everybody else obviously (and understandably) was busy with figuring out their own lives. I wished, desperately so, to just boom-boom-whoosh her away like Doctor Strange magicked away unwanted visitors.

Tony said nothing but his hands betrayed him. They shook and they held onto the skimpy see-through fabric of my top like he was a drowning man and I was his only floatie. For the moment, I closed my eyes and let myself believe he needed me, too.

"I'll catch a wink or two, wake me up if you need something," Bruce broke the silence, having finished off his tea. I didn't notice the time pass so quickly, too lost somewhere between here and there and Tony. In short, I was being lovesick all over the billionaire.

"Bwucie," I leaned backwards, pushing until Tony caved and let me rest my back against the counter, elbows on top of it, legs dangling freely on the sides of his legs. It put a lot of me on display. Tony had called me beautiful earlier so none of my usual habits of being appropriate around the man concerned me. He thought I was pretty!

"Princess," Banner came over to wrap me in a hug that was quite awkward, considering the fact I was sitting on Tony. It took some maneuvering to get it right.

"Night night," I said the usual and got a brief kiss on the cheek before Bruce shuffled off, yawning.

Tony was watching us with an unreadable expression. As soon as I turned my head to look at his face instead, something in him changed. His eyes grew big and round, the crease between his eyebrows disappeared. The corners of his mouth tilted up.

On a sudden impulse, I reached over to run my palm gently over the neatly trimmed line of his beard, following from his chin to his jawline, to his soft tousled hair. His eyelashes shook, fluttered, as the engineer leaned into my touch with the grace of a cat. "Kiss him, kiss him" my brain chanted. I knew I was a coward, I wouldn't do that. "Pretty," I said instead, the word coming out in a whisper.

He gulped, audibly. "Princess, you have no idea..." Shaking his head, as if he was surrounded by a swarm of mosquitoes, Tony briefly looked away. "You have no idea what you're doing."

"Nope," I agreed solemnly. "But at least it feels good. It feels right."

"God," He frowned, one of his hands coming to nervously card through his hair. "Nothing about this is right."

My face fell. Just like I thought, Tony wanted exactly nothing to do with a clueless little teenager. It stung and tears pooled in the corners of my eyes where I stubbornly refused to let them escape and make me into a crybaby. "Whatever you say, Tony." I was ready to agree with anything he said, really, if he would just keet holding me like that.

"Don't," He raised a palm. "Don't close yourself off like that."

Now I was genuinely confused. What exactly did he expect from me? I shrugged.

"You're clever, brilliant and beautiful, you can and should do so much better than all of this," He vaguely gestured towards me, towards himself, towards us and the whole damn city.

I contemplated my answer, briefly. "A lot of people tell me what I should and shouldn't be doing. Don't I get a say?" The bitterness had fought its way out and won. "I just want to be happy for a bit. All the usual bullshit."

He looked taken aback, really. Like he hadn't even considered the option. Typical.

Meanwhile, I continued my word vomit. "I want someone to give a damn about what I want and what makes me happier. Until then, I have no other choice but to take care of myself the best way I know how. Like everybody else does," The weight of his arm landed on my waist, pulling me close to his chest yet again. I didn't resist. No fight left in me. The tiredness seeped deep in my bones, chilly.

The sudden change of altitude startled me. The engineer had picked me up and started walking off towards the elevator, directing it to the lab. His personal lab. The tiles felt cold under my feet where he put me down to make his own beeline for the bar. I would've joined if not the drug in my system - the last thing I wanted was to land in a hospital yet again.

I took the moment to browse my social media, untag myself from all the unflattering pictures, post my usual shitpost. A tiny skirt, equally tiny top and fishnets - I felt out of place in his lab although I've worn more outrageous things previously. I was raw, torn open, bleeding my misery all over the room. That was not in my plan, but then again, when did ever life go as you planned it?

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peachebunnys · 4 years

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The Pinkest Passion

Pairing: Horacio Carrillo x reader

a/n: I apologize for the long hiatus, this one shot is like 70% plot 30% smut and most of it is spent dissing Poison <3

warnings: sex pollen smut ; light choking, degradation, slight cum eating, male masturbation, dirty talk [18+ ONLY] mentions of violence, brief mention of death

8.2k

“Those fuckers won’t know what’ll hit them, and if the—”

The static of the radio cracks, and the rest of the conversation dulls in comparison to the ringing that emits from the old device. The car engine drones on, getting hotter by the minute as the men continue to observe the large compound from a street away. The windows were wound down, and the scorching heat that came with Colombia’s summers felt like a blowtorch that slowly dragged over every exposed inch of your body.

To say you felt like you were on fire was an understatement, and as the beads of sweat trickled down your damp temple, you had half a mind to remove all your clothes right there and then. The bulletproof vest you had on was stuck to you like a second skin, with the material constricting your breathing slightly. For a while, you thought, maybe I could take it off just for a while. You regulated your breaths in hopes to exert as little energy as possible, fiddling with your fingers nervously as the vehicle continued humming on.

Fuck, if only you could ease off the protective gear to cool down - but he wouldn’t allow it now, would he?

Such a prude, he’s probably never seen a naked body in his life by the looks of it -- and the only thing he’s fucking on the daily is Escobar and our sleep schedule. You huffed, leaning back against the warm leather seat in discomfort, shaking away thoughts of the colonel as you continued mindlessly fiddling with your fingers.

The skies were now dark, with a blanket shade of prussian blue that was perfect for a raid mission like this one. There were barely any stars above, and the lack of twinkling had only added to your growing uneasiness of how this mission would turn out.

You tried to lean back, digging your knees into the leather seat in front of you. The warm surface against your pants was uncomfortable, which made you move yet again, in hopes to find a better arrangement. The man who occupied that space in front of you grunted in annoyance, shifting rather exaggeratedly to make a display of the emotion you had just invoked in him. You merely scoffed at the sight, irritated at his childish behaviour and how he had unapologetically pushed you back into your seat.

What’s gotten into him today?

Your eyebrows raised in confusion at his sudden odd behaviour. You’ve never seen him this uptight on a mission before, and with the way he was acting right now had you wondering if there was a buried sense of fear that he wasn’t showing to the world.

Was he … scared? What could make him so unsettled, especially when he was right in his element?

That thought alone had only made your heart dip, pounding in your stomach as you tried to focus on something else, anything that would keep you from thinking about the possible doom that awaited you. This mission was certainly no easy one, and with an unknown substance that stood between you and Escobar, you certainly were losing hope of being able to win this battle.

You weren’t usually one to have your feathers easily ruffled by the colonel but you’d now blame it on this awful predicament the four of you were stuck in. Every small movement and sound had made you feel like the other occupants in the car were barely tolerable, driving you up the wall with each gesture they made. On top of the heat that was no doubt growing by the second, the wait for the man himself was causing dread as the night went on.

“He should be here by now,” The man who sat in front of you spoke up, breaking the silence that was starting to feel almost suffocating. His voice was laced with a tinge of anger, along with restlessness that brewed from the long nights spent on carefully planning this raid. Horacio had let out a soft sigh as he eyed the way Javier merely shrugged at him with uncertainty, leaning back in disappointment at the lack of response. This raid was supposed to be it, the night they finally caught Escobar right in his tracks. But as the minutes went on, it seemed like that glimpse of hope was slowly dying out - like a flickering candle dancing with the wind.

Horacio ran his fingers over the smooth surface of the steering wheel, turning his head to watch the row of cars parked behind him through the side view mirrors. The headlights of the vehicles were all off, blending well into the night as the tall grass that surrounded the large compound served as the perfect cover. You leaned your head against the door frame, staring out to the night sky as you tried your best not to look back at Horacio, who was unsubtly watching you from the reflection.

Ever since the night of Gacha’s passing - in which you had drunkenly kissed the colonel, things had started to become more heated between the both of you. Fleeting touches, lips that barely hovered over yours, and faint smiles that implied more arrogance than cheek, were instances that had no doubt left you squirming and wanting more.

The man was a tease, and with each passing day, you felt the need for him grow as he continued taunting you ever so subtly.

The memory of that night floods your thoughts, and the vivid image of his half lidded eyes and soft moan as you pulled away from the passionate kiss, was one you were sure would burn into your mind for a long time. His lips tasted faintly of bourbon, a drink he would regularly nurse whenever he was stressed or frustrated. It was downright intoxicating, and just once, did you wish he would leave his straight laced demeanor just to indulge in that need you know was manifesting in him too.

“Maybe he’s running a bit late, after all, he did have a special shipment from Mexico today.” Javier drummed his fingers against the dashboard, fingering the buttons of the radio as a way to pass time during this wait. Steve, who was silent for the most part, leaned forward to rest his hand on Javier’s arm, patting his partner reassuringly as he spoke up, “Yeah, that could be it. His men did mention something about it being a special type of drug, harder stuff I reckon. Do you think he’s leaving cocaine for this new drug that he’s bringing in?”

“No, I don’t think so. It was a one batch order that was quite a hassle for them to even transport over, I doubt Escobar would place his chances on something this troublesome.” Javier leaned back into his seat, stretching his arms out to rid the weariness that was starting to take over him. The distinct sound of the lighter rang in your ear, and you caught a glimpse of the man lighting up his cigarette before he spoke up yet again.

“I heard this stuff is toxic, but no one really knows in what form though.” Javier takes a drag and puffs out a cloud of smoke, thinking pensively as he lazily taps out the ashes of the bud. “Intel said that even Escobar doesn’t know how strong this thing is, but whatever it is, we best stay clear of it.”

“Intel huh? Javi, this better not be one of your one night stands that gives us unverifiable sources.” Steve fishes out a manila coloured file, flipping through the pages quickly in search of something you couldn’t quite care less about. You continued watching the field of tall grass, tuning out the men in your car to listen to the soothing sound of crickets in hopes of easing the weight on your shoulders.

The drug lord’s newest hideout was beautiful, and as you stared at it from the dirt road about a mile away, you noticed the peculiar decorations that spanned across the yard that only enhanced the charm of that treacherous place.

“Huh,” Steve’s hushed voice breaks you from your thoughts, earning a disinterested glance from you as he shoved the thin file into your palms, “It says here the drug is pink, like really fucking pink - it’s not something we’ve seen before.”

Pink? What the hell was inside this thing?

You flipped through the folder yourself, reading through the little information that was annotated at the side of the page. The words were barely legible that was made worse with the poor lighting from streetlights that were few and far in between.

Fuck, this couldn’t be good now can it?

“-- Causes uneasiness in the system,

Patients experience varying levels of hyper-sensitivity and awareness,

Heart rates spike at an alarming rate,

Patients are seen to experience hyperhidrosis --”

“Hyperhidrosis?”

“Some medical term for excessive sweating, should’ve put that one in the footnote.”

“This doesn’t sound good Javi, we don’t even know what we’re up against. These guys have the upper hand, and if we go in blind like tha-”

“We may not ever get this chance again,” Horacio’s voice is rough, and it booms throughout the tiny vehicle. “This is the only fucking shot we’ve got, and it’s on us to make it work. Look, we may not be well equipped to go against this- this thing that they’ve got. But one thing’s for sure, it’s not going to kill us. Why else would Escobar personally transport it back himself if it was so deadly?”

The long awaited vehicles were finally in view, lighting up the road that was parallel to where you were parked. A trail of a dozen cars drove straight into the mansion, lighting up the area as they entered the compound. One by one, the cars packed with armed men drove into the area easily, unloading the boot that was filled to the brim with the strange drug.

“Looks like they’re finally here,” Javier loaded his pistol and slotted it into his holster, adjusting the rest of his equipment before turning to look at Horacio, “It’s best if we move out soon, and quietly.”

Horacio lowered the binoculars that he held firmly in his hands, giving a slight nod to Javier before signalling for his men to be on their guard. You could feel your heart hammer in your chest, and as Horacio slammed the jeep door shut, you felt the impact snap you out of your trance.

Sure, you may have done raid missions more times than you could count, but there was just something different about this one that had you feeling more unease than adrenaline. This fucking drug, there was just something about it that didn’t sit right with you - the very thought of the most notorious drug dealer in the world getting his hands on it, had almost made you puke.

“Are you alright back there?”

You glanced up to see Horacio’s eyes glued on you, studying you with sharp eyes as you did your best to regulate your breathing again. Under the moonlight, he looked much softer than he usually did, and you felt your heart flip when he leaned his arms against the window frame. You simply nodded, holding your right palm firmly against your chest as you answered his question, “Just peachy colonel, the vest is just too tight, that’s all.”

You caught a glimpse of concern that flashed across his eyes, before it quickly went back to the cold, unfeeling expression that he usually had. “That’s the point isn’t it, agent? So that it’ll keep you safe?” He opens the door for you, allowing you to step out before locking all the doors. “Come on, you’re with me for this one.”

His men were all gathered around your jeep, awaiting orders from Horacio as the four of you ran through the plan once more. It was now or never, you thought, we will finally bring down the whole cartel.

The plan was simple - to put it loosely. Three easy steps. Search Bloc would surround the parameters of the mansion, awaiting orders from Horacio to move in. The tall, uncut grass would serve as the best guise under the pale moonlight, concealing all of you in plain sight - perfect for the surprise ambush. Escobar and his men would be none wiser when the Search Bloc finally moved in, arresting everyone they could get, as well as bringing back the bags of drugs to use as evidence.

This will work… Won't it?

The sound of the crickets chirp on as Horacio instructs his men very carefully on what was to happen. They all nod in agreement before splitting up in teams, readying themselves for the green light that would no doubt come soon. Horacio and you walked towards the edge of the plantation, feeling the cracking of dirt under the soles now replaced with mud that sank with each step you took. Horacio had looked at you for a brief moment, smiling as earnestly as he could, he silently assured you that everything would be alright.

“I’ll be right by your side in this fight, we can do this.”

Your palm claps against his large bicep, feeling the warmth radiate from his body. A smile grew on your face, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

“Of course we can, Colonel.”

Horacio simply nods at you and surveys the area once more with his binoculars. As soon as the coast was clear, he turned his back towards you to signal to his men his approval.

“Let’s move out!”

The ground was soft, a result of the rain that barely poured down a few hours prior. The mud squelched with each step you took towards the fences, soaking the soles of your boots completely. You hugged your pistol tightly against your vest as you crouched next to Horacio, studying the men who were unloading the foreign substance into trolleys that were being pushed into the home.

The air was humid, and your skin burned hotter than it did back in the car. You glanced over at Horacio, watching him look through his binoculars, looking out for any blindspots that may ruin the chances of the mission being successful. He was on his knees next to you, and you could feel the warmth radiate off his body yet again. You’ve always known him to be somewhat like a human heater, emitting heat from his palms with each time he touched you.

His jaw was clenched, eyes focused on the sight before him, and you caught yourself marveling at how handsome he looked like this. You turned your head back to the men in the compound, studying the way they interacted with each other as they carried the bags of drugs out in their hands. With each step they took, there was a stumble that no doubt came soon after.

Drunk.

These men were very visibly drunk.

There was no sign of Escobar himself, and you wondered if he even came back to this hideout with the rest of his men. Javier and Steve were a good five feet away from the two of you, blocked from sight by the muted olive green plants that were over four feet tall. You could hear Javier’s voice, low and hushed, whispering a set of instructions to his partner who was right next to him. Horacio’s device came alive, with crackled, muffled voices from his men, that indicated to him that Escobar was nowhere in sight.

You could hear the falter in his voice as he called out to all units, telling them to continue on as planned when he gave the signal. “We can still bring in some of his men, all will not be lost on this mission.” His breath was hot, feeling it ghost over your shoulder as he craned his neck to get a better view amidst the dense plantation. You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, and you busied yourself in checking your equipment, ready for the signal that would no doubt come sooner than you would think.

Horacio’s eyes darted around the various men chortling and singing loudly, and for a brief moment, he held up his device to give yet another instruction.

Pause.

The last man walked through the foyer, barely juggling six bags of drugs as he smiled at his friends from within the compound. Horacio had caught sight of Poison, who was at the furthest end of the entrance holding two bags himself with glee.

It was now or never.

“Now!”

Horacio rushed in and easily jumped over the fence, clutching his rifle in his large hands before shooting at the man who had made the unfortunate mistake of walking out.

Thump.

And just like that, a man was dead.

Two shots, and the body fell back with the impact, alerting the rest of Escobar’s men inside the mansion. There was a brief moment where time stood still, everyone staring at the lifeless body with morbid curiosity and confusion.

The plants had soon started rustling, indicating the approach of more Search Bloc men that were finally stepping out of the shadows. The rest of the Search Bloc closed in behind Horacio, causing panic amongst the tipsy men who struggled to pull out their weapons on time. Everything happened too quickly, with Escobar’s men scrambling in all directions as they tried to shoot at you.

Horacio was right by your side, shielding you from men who popped out from your blindspots. The two of you worked together like a well-oiled machine, covering each other’s backs from any potential threats that lurk from the dark corners of the mansion. The lights were barely on throughout the safe house, and despite the harsh moonlight that seeped in through the glass windows, the visibility was still rather poor. Search Bloc men were scattered all over the place, chasing after the men that were fleeing from the site. Horacio and you, however, were focused on finding either one of Escobar’s right hand men amidst the veil of darkness. This was possibly the only thing that could still salvage this mission.

Bullets whirred through the air, with some missing you by a small margin. The familiar sound of gunshots resonated through the night as you moved closer to the heart of the compound. It was about forty-five minutes after the men’s arrival at the hideout, and there were already walls of pink drugs that lined the brightly-lit living room. The packages were similar to the ones that bagged an ounce of cocaine, with the only difference being the striking colour of the different substance.

You caught a glimpse of Poison, who was in the midst of dashing across the empty courtyard, clutching the drug close to his stomach. He was dressed in his usual getup, with a cream coloured shirt paired with jeans to match. Despite the poor visibility in the compound, his appearance was a stark contrast to his dark surroundings - that was further accentuated with the moonlight that shined upon him. You pulled your pistol up quickly, hands steady as you followed the path he took to escape. Your pointer finger hovered over the trigger, waiting for the right moment when he finally crossed your line of vision - and when he did, you finally pulled the trigger.

Missed.

Fuck.

You nudged at Horacio, who had just knocked out a man with the butt of his rifle, pointing at the direction in which Poison had gone. If there was anyone who would be able to give insightful information about Pablo Escobar, Poison was that guy. Catching him would certainly bring you closer to arresting the notorious drug dealer, and that sparked a sense of hope that all was not lost in this raid. This would be your best bet yet.

You took a quick glimpse at Javier and Steve, who were around the corner pinning down one of the men they had managed to tackle. Too occupied with cuffing the criminal, the both of them had completely missed the way you were watching them from across the room.

Looks like it’s down to Horacio and I to run after Poison, huh?

Horacio’s hand was on yours, guiding you in the direction of where Poison had just sprinted to just moments prior. The two of you raced across the courtyard, finding yourselves staring at two staircases that led to the roof of the building. Without a word passed between the two of you, you instinctively split up, racing up the two flights of stairs whilst following the trail of mud that painted the tilted floors. The marks had led all the way to the roof of the building, and you found yourself alone with only your pistol to fend with.

The air was cooler here, with gentle winds blowing through your hair as you hid behind a concrete wall next to the stairwell. The lights from the floor below lit up the area, brightening the parapet to your convenience. You steadied your breathing as softly as you could, studying the muddy footprints that led behind the wall you now stood in front of.

He was here.

There were soft unsteady pants that came behind you, and your heart raced as it got closer and closer. With each step the unknown figure took, there was a distinctive sound of mud squishing against the cool cement ground. You straightened your back and leaned as close to the wall as possible, awaiting the moment when the stranger were to finally show themselves.

The scent of cologne had filled the air, one that you weren’t quite familiar with. It was strong and sweet, catching you off guard with the pleasant whiff. Poison had finally come into view, with his distinctive slicked back mullet hairdo jutting out from the side of the wall and into your line of sight. You immediately pounced forward, throwing him off balance before he knocked the side of his pistol against your cheek, instantly drawing blood from the impact. The coolness of the metal had soon left your face, and you staggered back by the sheer force of the swift punch.

You aimed your gun directly at his chest but he manages to push it away before it fires, effectively shooting the bullet in the air with no harm done to him. He twists your wrists, an attempt to weaken your grasp on the handgun, which fails as your left hand moves swiftly to punch him in the nose. You hear the distinct sound of his bone cracking and his blood drips out of his nose a second later - colouring his thick moustache as his face contorts in anger.

You managed to dodge the next punch he threw, missing it by a hair’s breadth before noticing his leg swinging to kick you in the knee. You fell back instantly, immediately grateful to the vest for cushioning your fall a bit. The handgun in your possession had now been knocked away, flung several feet away into a nook you couldn’t quite reach. Your eyes widened as you watched Poison edge closer to your body, pointing his shimmering pistol straight at you.

The air was still, and for a split second, it felt like the world had stopped moving completely. Poison let out a soft scoff, smirking over the pathetic situation that you had found yourself in - which would end badly if you didn’t do something within the next few seconds. You lifted your right leg up, positioning to kick his knees so that his balance would falter. But Poison was far too quick for your liking, catching your foot as soon as it went up. He instinctively elbowed your shin, causing you to cry out in pain as you pulled your legs up and against your chest - curling up into a ball after the impact.

His breathing is laboured, and he pants as he leans forward, watching you with hawk-like eyes.

“Drop the fucking weapon, Poison.”

A familiar voice shouted at the man who hovered over you, and you recognised almost instantly who it belonged to. Your heart hammered against your chest, body sagging against the wet ground as Poison’s gun had now shifted away from you. You tilted your head to catch sight of Horacio who was standing several feet away from the two of you, pointing his rifle at Poison with tense fingers. His boots stomped against the smooth ground, carefully walking towards Poison who had his undivided attention.

With his focus away from you, you lunged forward to reach for your handgun, immediately pointing it at the man as you crouched in position across him. With a look of defeat, Poison slowly backed towards the edge of the roof, clutching tightly the bags of drugs that he had held onto throughout the chase. His eyes darted between you and Horacio as you closed in on him, leaving him no room to escape from the both of you.

As the two of you stood roughly six feet away from him, you carefully studied his stance and the way his outstretched arm moved back and forth between you and Horacio - pointer finger hovering over the trigger as his heel hit the edge of the parapet.

There was no getting out of this one, motherfucker.

Poison’s eyes shifted behind him, observing the one-story drop that had left him trapped between Horacio and you. His eyes snapped back at you, and with the sudden movement, you too had your finger barely hovering over the trigger. The silence amongst the three of you was almost deafening, and you could hear the commotion from the floor below get louder and louder - with sounds of engines starting up and blaring out of the compound.

A huge grin had broken out on his face, and the long fingers that wrapped around the packaging of the unknown substance now held on tighter. You limp forward towards him, eyebrows knitted together as you realised his shoulders had sagged, visibly becoming more relaxed than he was a few minutes prior.

What the fuck is going on?

“You don’t always win, you know?”

His voice was deep and smooth, ending the statement in a light chuckle. His hands were now outstretched, seemingly allowing himself to be arrested. The smile had not faltered, and as Horacio and you moved half a foot towards him, the bag he held was immediately flung up into the sky. The noise from around you dissolved, and everyone’s eyes were now on the flying package that was slowly falling back down. You notice Poison’s gun pointed upwards, and it immediately registers what he was trying to do.

He’s going to fucking shoot it.

Your body moves faster than you could comprehend, speeding towards the criminal in hopes to tackle him before he shoots the packaging. Your heart races, and your eyes are dead set on the man before you. You hear a faint call of your name behind you, muffled and worried, drowning in the background.

Poison’s eyes were on you, and he smiled mockingly as he fired the bullet through the bag, making your heart leap in your chest. At such close proximity, the shot rang in your ears, forcing you to duck as the pain spreaded across your hearing. You caught sight of Poison leaping off the edge, escaping your reach as the strange substance had begun settling all over you.

The fine powder had filled your nose, causing you to cough with a strong force as it entered your system. You leaned over the edge to notice Poison’s perfect landing on the gravel floors, breaking his fall with a front roll that had surprisingly not ruined his hairdo. You watched him hop into a car with several other men, driving off quickly into the night and away from the compound.

He was gone.

Your body slumped backwards, and you noticed the powder settling on the ground around you, as well as on your military green vest. It had a disgustingly sweet scent that was stimulating all your senses at once.

Fuck, this wasn’t good. This did not seem good at all.

Your body was quickly heating up, and the vest was starting to feel tighter as the minutes went by. Beads of sweat were forming above your eyebrow, and despite the cool atmosphere, it felt like you were on literal fire.

Does this thing work instantly?

Horacio came sprinting towards you, with his large palm rubbing gentle circles on your back. He crouched next to you, placing his rifle down to get a better while you gasped hard for air. The drug had a cooling sensation that spread across your body, and you were sure that the effects would start to surface soon. There were still bits of the powder that had yet to settle, and upon reaching out to help you, Horacio had unknowingly breathed in the pollen too.

Too hot, too tight — oh my f-fucking god.

Horacio’s hand on your body had sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your clit throb with each reassuring caress he made. “You’re going to be fine, it’s going to be alright.”The powder tickled the back of your throat, causing you to cough even harder. You made a frantic attempt to remove the vest that was constricting your breathing, panting heavily once the thick material was off you. Horacio had worry etched all over his face, struggling to find ways to ease the pain you were starting to feel.

As he moved closer towards you, he felt the effects of the drug take over his body - dilating his pupils by a small margin. He sniffled, feeling his nose itch as he breathed more of the substance in. Your thoughts were all over the place, focusing on a different sensation in your body each time.

Your moans of discomfort were getting louder by the second, and you found yourself unable to move with the amount of friction that was sending pleasure straight to your core. You were practically trembling as you leaned forward on your hands and knees, sniffling as your hormones went into hyperdrive. Never have you felt this sensitive before, with each small movement you made causing you to drip all over your soft panties.

You could tell Horacio wasn’t having a good time either, with his face turning bright pink as he too started removing his vest and uniform shirt. He now sat next to you, in a thin cotton undershirt that stuck to him like a second skin, with sweat drenching the material, allowing his perfect build to be more pronounced under the moonlight. His pants were getting tighter, and he struggled to make a coherent sentence as he moved towards you.

“Co—come on, we— we need to get you to the hospital!”

His speech becoming slurred, barely able to string words together as he started getting more aroused. The drug was working its way fast throughout your bodies, and the low drawl that came from Horacio just moments prior had done nothing but speed up its effects.

“I— can’t, i’m too f—fucking sensitive.”

You started unbuttoning your pants, pulling them down until the fabric pooled at your ankles. With one swift motion, you removed it all together, sighing with satisfaction once it was finally off. The strange substance was making you more aroused by the second, the wetness creating a patch on your soft cotton underwear.

Horacio stared at you, jaw slack as he watched your legs part. His hand had instinctively moved down to palm his bulge, gasping when you started crawling closer to him. His cock was straining against the material, and Horacio’s fingers trailed his length gently.

“H-Horacio, I need you right now.”

“I-I don’t think that’s a good id-” Horacio stuttered, eyes looking everywhere as you kneeled before him. His breaths had become uneven, and he had to hold himself back from pulling you towards him.

“We can’t, I-It’s not right.”

Your whimpers were almost enough for him to give in, and he struggled to hold himself back. You couldn’t take it, everything was just too much at the moment - and you were sure you’d lose your goddamn mind if you beared with it for another second. The liquid fire that coursed through you was enough to lunge yourself into his arms, threading your fingers through his hair.

“Maybe this will work, oh god- maybe this is the only way to stop it.”

Horacio’s eyes dart around your face, watching for any signs of doubt that may indicate that you didn’t want this. You tilted his chin up, forcing him to look at your half-lidded eyes as you gently licked at his bottom lip.

“Horacio, please.”

His hands trailed down your back, stopping at your ass to caress the tenderness of your skin. Your hips bucked at the feeling of his warm hands against your cool skin, grinding against the bulge that was directly under you.

He was already looking disheveled, with parts of his hair sticking out in all directions. You could tell the gears in his head were moving, fighting back the lust that was taking over him. The heat from your pussy wasn’t helping him think straight, and the way you peppered kisses all over his neck made him lose his mind.

You moved up to kiss his lips, realising he was holding you back from doing so. He dragged his thumb over your plump lip, gasping as you licked the pad almost instinctively. His cock throbbed from under his tight pants, begging to be released as you continued sucking his finger innocently.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, removing his hand from gently cupping your face, “I’ll fuck you just how you want it, like the needy little brat you are.”

Horacio pulled you into his lap quickly, large warm hands on your back as he passionately started making out with you. His tongue worked his way past your lips, kissing you with a strong force that was starting to make you dizzy.

Your fingers were tangled in his short hair, pulling him closer as you grinded hard against his growing bulge. With each roll of your hip, the delicious friction between the two of you made you moan into the kiss, sending sparks that only made you wanting more. His left hand moved to the back of your head, pushing you closer into the kiss as his hips involuntarily bucked upwards to dry hump your clothed clit.

Hot — too fucking hot.

The friction of the material in between you had rubbed you both in a way that made you moan in delight. His shaft was already at its full length, pushing against his canvas pants.

The action alone made you feel way too overwhelmed, with tears welling in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him tighter. The moans you made each time his bulge thrusted against your panties were muffled by the deep kiss - making your head spin with the intoxicating sensation.

Horacio pulled your thin shirt up, bundling the material just above your bra before unhooking them completely. As soon as the last hook came off, he aggressively pulled your clothes off you - moving his head down to play with your nipples that were hard from both the arousal and the cool air.

His warm tongue against you felt downright sinful, expertly kissing and sucking on your nipples that elicited almost pornographic moans. His free hand was palming and rubbing the soft skin of your breast, stimulating you until he deemed it was time to move on to sucking on your other tit.

“You taste so so fucking good, fuck, I could play with you all night.” Horacio’s voice rumbled in his chest, and he took his time continuing to taste you.

You grinded against him harder, in hopes to finally get him to fuck you like you desperately wanted him too - but all that did was to make his hips jerk upwards against your cunt. You tried your best to muffle your noises by biting into your hand, not wanting to bring attention to you - after all, the two of you were practically naked on this rooftop where anybody could find you.

Your nipples glistened when Horacio finally moved his head back, his hot breath making you squirm as he panted against your wet skin. His fingers fiddled with his belt buckle, unlatching them furiously before pulling out his large hard shaft.

The sight itself was enough to make you squirm, and with heavy lidded eyes, you watched Horacio pump his cock with a tight fist, precum pooling around his slit from the action.

It was huge, and so fucking beautiful.

It throbbed in his hand each time he moved forward to kiss you, while the veins that ran along it became more prominent with each pump. You whimpered at the sight, wondering how something that huge would be able to fit inside you.

“Like what you see?” Horacio’s eyes were trained on you, smirking as he watched your breaths becoming more laboured.

“H—Horacio, fuck, I need you s—so badly. Please just fuck me already.”

You practically mewled for him, downright begging for him to take there and then. Horacio let out a low growl, moving his hands down to spank your ass with one swift movement.

“You’re just so fucking needy, aren’t you?”

His rough palms knead your butt, soothing the sting that had you moaning into the crook of his shoulder. Your grip on his biceps became stronger as his fingers trailed down your sides, tugging at your underwear to get it off. With your legs wrapped around his hip, Horacio found it a pain to remove the offending material from your body, opting to tear it completely with minimal effort. Your lips trailed up his neck, groaning as you felt his thick fingers hovering over your bare pussy, causing goosebumps on your skin in its wake.

“You’re such a noisy little girl, do you want me to stuff your panties into that pretty mouth of yours? That’ll shut you up, won’t it?”

Horacio’s voice was low, dripping with lust as he growled into your ear. You instinctively grinded your bare clit against his cock, feeling the heat overcome you. Your mewls had come out choked as the downright filthy words he whispered caused your cheeks to burn up.

Your hands slid down his chest, moving over to take his large throbbing cock into your smaller hands. You adjusted your position to ensure your pussy was hovering directly over his length, smearing the precum all over your outer lips before settling down on it completely. The stretch that came as you slowly eased yourself on his entire length was mind-blowing, causing your knees to tremble with each inch that was penetrated inside you.

It was too fucking much - and yet not enough.

Horacio’s lips capture yours again, kissing you passionately while pinching your ass. The feeling was overwhelming, igniting a fire deep within you.

“S-so fucking tight, fuck, your cunt is so fucking tight around me, baby.” His pants came out unsteady, and he rested his head against yours while waiting for you to make the first move. The use of the pet name hadn’t gone unnoticed, and the way he groaned into your ear had you clenching hard against him.

“P-Please f-fuck, babygirl, I’m going to cum if you keep doing that.” His large hands are on your back, and he quickly flips you over on your hands and knees, “I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll be cumming all over my fat cock, princess.”

Horacio moves his hips experimentally, slowly thrusting into your dripping cunt. His right arm snakes around you, applying pressure against your clit that almost has you screaming from the pleasure. Your hand bled from how hard you were biting down, an attempt to keep your voice down as Horacio practically fucked you senseless.

His fingers play with your nub, rubbing vigorously at the bundle of nerves each time his cock rams back into your hole again. You felt your whole body tremble, threatening to give out at any moment with each thrust he made. Horacio planted frantic kisses all over your body, nipping and sucking at the skin every chance he got.

Horacio held your hips firmly, admiring the marks that he littered all over your skin. As his hips became to stutter and lose control, he gently reached out to card his fingers through your hair - thugging them with a slight force as he continued slamming into you.

“You feel so f—fucking good like this, my pretty slut, so obedient— just for me.”

This whole experience was just too much for you, and tears trailed down your cheeks as you quietly sobbed from how overstimulated you were. Horacio cooed at how well you were taking him, softly muttering into your ear how good you were for him, all while he was pounding animalistically into you. You could feel a familiar sensation build inside you, knowing very well what was to come soon.

“Ho- Horacio, ‘m gonna cum s- soon.”

He pulls you back up until your back is against his chest, continuing to thrust into you at an even faster pace. You could feel his wet kisses along your shoulders, causing you to shiver at his touch. His two fingers continue grinding against your clit, driving you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Horacio’s hot and heavy pants against your neck fired up your senses even more, which completely wrecked your brain once he leaned in to lick the space between your neck and shoulder.

His left hand, that was once palming and squeezing your breasts, now moved up to wrap around your neck - applying the lightest pressure possible. If it weren’t for the fact that Horacio was holding you up, you would’ve fallen by now due to how badly your body was trembling from stimulation.

Horacio made everything seem so sexy, and as he gently choked you while groaning your name in your ear - you could feel yourself about to let go.

“Then come for me - I want you to soak my cock with your cum, pretty girl.”

Fuck- it really was too much. He- he was too fucking much.

Horacio picked up his pace, fucking you at an almost brutal pace as you clenched around him. The skin against skin sound, along with the squelching noises that came each time he entered you, got louder and louder. You could feel your vision turning white, orgasm ripping through you like never before. Your mind was full yet blank at the same time, crying out Horacio’s name as you let the pleasure rip through you. He tilted your head towards him, kissing you fervently as he lost control of his hips.

Barely a moment later, he pulls out his dripping cock, allowing you to fall from the sudden lack of support. You rolled over to see Horacio staring straight at you, eyes pitch black as he jerked himself off to the sight of your essence dripping out of your pussy.

You leaned back against the floor, lying flat on the cool surface as you moved your fingers down to clean your cum. You rubbed your fingers along the entrance of your cunt, dipping them into your release - only to lick your fingers clean when you noticed Horacio’s eyes still trained on you. He had let out a guttural groan, forcing his eyes shut as his pace became faster. You were enchanted by the sight of a man as authoritative as him on his knees, jerking himself off to the mere display of you naked on the ground, with cum seeping out of your gaping hole.

Oh, how you were so wrong for misjudging him as a prude.

Horacio’s hair was sticking out all over the place, lips swollen from all the kissing. His biceps flexed with each thrust, and his mouth was wide open - losing himself in the pleasure he was chasing. He spits on his right palm before continuing to seek after his release, with his head tilted back as he reaches his high.

His large hands wrapped around his cock tighter, and with one last pump, he came all over your stomach - painting your soft skin white with his release. He chanted your name like it was a prayer, chest heaving as the pleasure washed all over him.

The view of him orgasming would’ve made you instantly turned on again, if it weren’t for the fact you felt like you were exhausted. Horacio hovered over you with his dick in his hand, completely unsure of what to do next. The drug was slowly wearing out, and the two of you awkwardly avoided eye contact as you took a breather from what was possibly the most intensive sex ever.

The effects were leaving your body, and you found your heartbeat and breathing gradually becoming normal. You were becoming more aware of your surroundings, mind clearing from the hazy blur it once was. The commotion below had died down, and you wondered if everything had been settled while the two of you were up here having the fuck of your lives. You finally sat up and crawled over to your clothes that were thrown a few feet away, eyeing your torn panties curiously.

How the hell did this man manage to rip it perfectly in half?

As you continued studying the now useless article of clothing, you heard Horacio clear his throat - effectively breaking you from your trail of thoughts. He already had his uniform shirt and pants on, stuffing the softening cock back before looking at you. He pointed at your stomach, face turning completely red as he started apologising for the mess he had made.

As he reached out for his handkerchief in his back pocket, he caught sight of your fingers swiping up his release with your fingers, sucking on them with a smile on your face.

“Stop it,” he groaned, “fuck, how are you still trying to tease me, even after I’ve fucked you? Hadn’t you already had your fill?”

“What can I say, Colonel? That was the hottest sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

You removed your fingers from your mouth with a wet ‘pop’, ensuring it was loud enough for him to hear. Once he had cleaned you up, he shoved the now dirty cloth back into his pocket, helping you up to your feet so that you could properly dress. Horacio’s radio called out to him, with Javier’s voice laced with worry. The message had come out muffled, with only bits of it successfully conveyed through. He answered their questions, turning his back to you as you quickly got dressed next to him. His cheeks were still dusted pink, and he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he thought of what to say next.

“Guess we found out what this drug does exactly, huh?”

You let out a soft chuckle, tightening the last strap on your vest before turning back to him. The two of you adjusted your clothes once more before finally heading down the flight of stairs. The place had been cleared out entirely, with nothing but a speck of dust left in its wake. Javier and Steve jogged up to you, faces bunched up in confusion as they took in the sight of how awful you two looked.

“Where the hell have you been? You look like you’ve just been through some rough shit.” Steve pulled the cigarette away from his lips, breathing out a small puff of smoke. “We’ve managed to take down a couple of guys, and it looks like our work here is done. Come on, we best get the two of you home - we’ll fill you in on the road.”

Your fingers comb through your hair, settling it down as neatly as possible while you tailed behind the men. Your DEA partners muttered something amongst themselves, paying no attention to you and Horacio who trailed far behind them.

The tiny rocks crunched below your shoes, and you admired the beautiful view that surrounded the compound as you strolled with Horacio back to the car. The silence between you was starting to get awkward, and you fiddled with your fingers to avoid making eye contact with him. Whatever had happened earlier wasn’t something you quite regretted, but you wished it happened under more natural circumstances.

Just as you were about to get into the car, Horacio opened the door for you - tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he looked straight into your eyes. The moonlight accentuated his strong features, and you felt yourself falling a little bit more in love with him. His hand reaches out to hold yours, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Hey,” Horacio cleared his throat, smiling at you bashfully before he continued, “would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night? I want to get to know you better, if you’d like.”

The question had caught you off-guard, but you quickly recovered as you intertwined your fingers with his. You tiptoed up to gently kiss his cheek, smiling as you noticed the tenderness of his skin, “of course Horacio, I’d love to.”

The car engine hums as it starts on, and you found yourself replaying the events that had transpired an hour earlier. The voices of your partners were drowned out as you looked out the window and at the fields of plantations. The wind blew through the tall plants, creating a gentle rustle as you smiled to yourself with glee.

Maybe that drug wasn’t so bad after all.

#horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo imagine #narcos #peachebunnys fic

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peanutxparker · 4 years

Text

A (very long) list of all of my favorite AJJ lyrics because why not

Candy Cigarettes and Cap Guns (2005)

“Well my great grand-dad he died of cancer, from smoking too many cigarettes. But I must confess that he did quite profess to being the coolest motherfucker I ever met.”

“And cocaine is essentially vegan and they don't give a fuck anyway.”

“And I can't help but miss him even though he hit me everyday.”

“So fuck white people! (fuck white people!)”

“Heaven is a special place in hell where you can watch the people you hate get hurt.”

“You find me quite charming and I find it quite alarming ‘cause I'm gonna take your life. You find me quite charming and I find it quite alarming and I'm sad you won't be my wife.”

“What makes you think you can be so pretty? And what makes you think you can be so great? And what makes you think you can be so intelligent? And what makes you think you can be so far away?”

“What makes you think you can be so wonderful? And what makes you think you can be so keen? And what makes me think I can be so hurtful? And what makes me think I can be so mean?”

“Sometimes I feel like a cigarette, I'm wrapped in paper and I'm suffocating to death.”

“I don't want to be a cigarette anymore. I'll go to hell in my self death all day and night, so please just put me out.”

People Who Can Eat People Are The Luckiest People In The World (2007)

“Rejoice despite the fact this world will hurt you. Rejoice despite the fact this world will kill you. Rejoice despite the fact this world will tear you to shreds. Rejoice because you’re trying your best”

“I'm afraid to leave the house. I'm as timid as a mouse. I'm afraid if I go out I'll outwear my welcome. I'm not a courageous man. I don't have any big lasting plans. I'm too cowardly to take a stand, I want to keep my nose clean. And it's sad to know that we're not alone in this and it's sad to know that there's no honest way out. In this life we lead, we could conquer everything if we could just get the brave to get out of bed in the morning.”

“And I give a thank-you to my father for not raising me, and I give a finger to my step-father for beating me, and I give props to myself for achieving, and god damn I’m glad that I survived, and god damn I’m surprised that I survived.”

“So I looked into your eyes and I saw the reflection of a coward you and I both hate very much and then I grabbed the knife and I let the blood out of your throat and I smashed those tiny mirrors inside of your skull.”

“If I don’t go to hell when I die I might go to heaven, might go to heaven. But probably not.”

“Just happy times and half assed rhymes and mimes because mimes are dears, but most of all I want no more tears.”

“No more racism. No more discrimination. No more fat dumb fucks keeping people out of our nation.”

“We’re all one big band across this land and we should sing in tune. Let us grow the balls to break the walls, we’ve got to do it soon.”

“And I hope our candles flicker and die so that our hearts don’t burn to the ground.”

“First we were babies, we're birthing and dying. Then we were children, we're playing and crying. And then we're teenagers and smoking and fucking. But now we're all grown up and we're sadly sighing.”

“And your manic depression, it comes and it goes. Your parasympathetic nervous system reacts and you're in fight or flight mode.”

“How's the world so small when the world is so large? And what made the world? Could I please speak to who's in charge? Everything is real but it's also just as fake. From your daughter's birthday party to your grandmother's wake.”

“I've tried to know which words to sing so many times. I tried to know which chord to play and I tried to make it rhyme. And I tried to find the key that all good songs are in. And I tried to find that notes to make that great, resounding din.”

“There's someone in your head waiting to fucking strangle you.”

“I've got essays, I've got finals due. I have got lots and lots of problems.”

“Welcome to this world, have as much fun as you would like while helping others have as much fun as you're having. Be kind to those you love and be kind to those you don't but for God's sake you gotta be kind.”

Can’t Maintain (2009)

“I wanna pick up the pieces and plant them in the ground. When a tree grows there I want to chop that tree down. Build it into a boat and float it in a lake. And with dynamite I will explode the thing that makes me make mistakes.”

“Sometimes I get so lonesome I can't breathe. Sometimes I get so scared that I can't speak. Sometimes I get so worried I can't hear my heartbeat. Anyway…”

“I wanna tear out my heart and give it away to a person more deserving one day. If all I see is the worst in everything that's all I'm gonna get, that's all I'm gonna get, that's all I'm gonna get.”

“And people freak me out. People make me scared. People make me so damn self-aware.”

“I get bronchitis twice a year at least. My lungs aren't the way they should be. And I smoke more than a mother fuckin chimney. I declare war on my body.”

“You will cough up crows that peck my eyes and I will do nothing but go blind.”

“We could live there together or I'll live alone, less happy but I'll live... unfortunately.”

“And no one will know how I truly feel ‘cause I can no longer differentiate between what is fake and what is real. I don't know how I feel.”

“And I will always appreciate bad days like this because they grant me a point of reference in regards to my happiness.”

“If the bridge that I was driving over collapsed while I was driving over it that may not be such a bad thing. I would finally meet my maker, I could meet the great creator, and I'd punch him for teaching me how to sing.”

“Don't know if I believe in god but sometimes I pray because the way I was raised keeps me afraid.”

“I hope I can forgive me for having the nerve to exist. I hope someone can help me make some sense of this.”

“Sense and sensibility and peaceful productivity, a pretty girl with broken wings is all that I desire. But there's so much hostility in all the things surrounding me. The awful glow of enmity is trying to stop my shine. So I try to look inwardly at all the things inside of me but sodomy and buggery keep bubbling to the top.”

“I met you once over the phone, you sounded sad and you seemed alone. You left me but I never left you. I never had the chance to.”

“If you spend all your heart on something that has died you are not alive and that can't be your life.”

Knife Man (2011)

“There's no one to blame. People are just fucking mean.”

“So if I see a penny on the ground, I leave it alone or fucking flip it. I'm a straight white male in America. I've got all the luck I need.”

“I've got a pile of broken mirrors and I'm walking under ladders and I'll spill a ton of salt because to me that doesn't matter.”

“You were dead by the time that I had found you. Your blood was spilled on the couch where we had first kissed. So I carried you west to the sea so I could wash you. Your body felt just like a back pack.”

“I hate whiny, fucking songs like this but I can't afford a therapist. Sorry guys, here's a solo.”

“Some days I feel like I'm the weakest and others the strongest. These days are the longest and I've got the weirdest feeling about this and I wanna go away for a while.”

“I wish I had a bullet big enough to fucking kill the sun. I'm sick of songs about the summer.”

“When you have no one, you are no one. Like I said, I used to work at the people pound. All these no ones clumped together, just like a human lost and found. If they left them all be someones there wouldn't be enough to go around. It's better for us all us if there are no ones. And I knew a lot of no ones round that time. They used to all be someones until something took their life and all their someones disappeared while they're stuck there waiting in a line. And for them now, no one seems to have the time.”

“They say ambition is an enemy of weakness and greatness is an enemy of fame.When I pick up my guitar and I try to write a song, I think of what my mentor used to say… “Who fucking gives a rat's ass Steve, just write a love song. Cus they'll keep your belly full and your wallet lined. Don't bother these nice people with your sad sack songs. If you ask me I think they're just a waste of time.””

“Inspiration is the best friend of my sorrow and sorrow is the best friend of my drink. Well I want to look myself in the eye tomorrow but I'm too worried of what other folk's will think.”

“And the troubles in my heart need to get let out. And the troubles in my heart need to escape. And I never liked writing poetry and I never liked doing pottery and God knows that I never learned to paint. So every now and then, I'll sing sad songs. Cus it keeps my spirit light and my conscience clean. And if you don't care to hear I don't mind if you go out for some air. Cus I'm happy that you're happier than me.”

“So I wish I had a cigarette for every time a perfect stranger asked me for a cigarette but I wonder what a cigarette will really do to help that person out. I wish to God I had some spare change for every time a perfect stranger asked me for some spare change but there's not enough spare change in the world to make such an empty gesture count.”

“You can hope it gets better and you can follow your dreams but hope is for presidents and dreams are for people who are sleeping.”

“You don't have it any better and you don't have it any worse. You're an irreplaceable human soul with your own understanding of what it means to suffer and that’s a huge bummer.”

“I'm afraid of the way I live my life. I'm afraid of the way I don't. I'm afraid of the things that I want to do but I won't. I'm afraid of God. I'm afraid to believe and I'm afraid of all the loved ones that I've made leave. I'm afraid that my dog doesn't love me anymore. I'm afraid of the social laziness that let Kitty Genovese die. And I'm afraid of the mob mentality that makes otherwise normal people go blind. I'm afraid of the way that the world works and I'm afraid of the words in my notebooks. I'm afraid that you all know that I am a pervert.”

“It's harder to be yourself than it is to be anybody else. I wish I were a little less of a coward but the big red bird that lives under the city doesn't give a damn about me and it dies every night. So I bought a knife. I am a knife.”

Rompilation (2012)

“I used to be a spiderman, I used to be a cowboy from hell, but not anymore. Now I'm just a clam and I live inside this shell inside this shell I am. God damn I hate my brain.”

“I'll dip my brain in medicine so that you can stand to be with me.”

“Give me your tired, give me your tired, give me your poor. When our government acts like this, I wonder what World War II was for and the rest of the country hates us more and more. Lady Liberty is not a whore.”

“This is not a protest, it's a tortoise slowly pushing through a race. I hope the tortoise keeps its patience while the hare continues to pepper-spray its face.”

“There is no enemy, there's only people that also love their families and they're scared that they won't have enough long after they are deceased. But how much money do they need? Love turns into fear, and fear turns into greed. There is no enemy, there's only dummies that also love their families.”

“And this is not a phase, it's just a matter of time, with diligence and peacefulness, you will reach them and you will change their minds. If you stay there long enough, they'll start to see you.”

“And when you pushed my face in shit how could that have made you feel like a man or like a monster. It's your fault that I can't tell the difference.”

“In the evening I try songwriting. I'm self loathing, but I love singing. I'll try escaping these evil feelings but they keep coming, they keep coming…”

“So the baby's gonna have a daddy, that's wonderful news. He won't be the greatest parent but neither will you! Gotta get out while you can, otherwise you're screwed. Your legs are broken and your eyes are black and blue.”

“And smoking is like hiring a hitman for five dollars a day, and as cool as that is, I don't wanna keep dying this way.”

Christmas Island (2014)

“Shoot him again ‘cause I can see his soul dancing.”

“If you give it to me I’ll give it back much harder. If you treat me like a son, then I’ll treat you like a daughter. Everyone has a future, everyone has a soul, everyone has a heart, they have a mind, they have control.”

“The Coffin Dancer dances like he has something the prove because he does. He sleeps a couple hours in the morning, hates the morning when he wakes up.”

“The Coffin Dancer dances like he wants to make a friend, but he does not.”

“Getting naked and playing with guns. There's a gerbil in the microwave, a baseball bat in everyone. Sharing kisses and building a bomb. We'll set it off like Microsoft in '94.”

“McDonald's PlayPlace before the Xbox, cake frosting, sweet talking, bedroom wall, covered in knives, touching God, burning shit. We'll make a wish and take a trip to Future Town like our daddy did.”

“Have you ever wanted to be, have you ever wanted to see someone better in the mirror? Have you ever wanted to go, have you ever wanted to know somewhere greener, somewhere cleaner. I bet you got something beautiful in mind.”

“I can’t handle astounding works of beauty. I think I like my pretty pretty ugly but the beautiful soul I witnessed in that movie was an entirely different kind of overwhelming. It was a dog that won’t stop barking. Like a cut that never stops bleeding. Arizona sunsets in the early evening. Or a grown man inconsolably weeping.”

“I am the Kool-Aid stains on the mouth of a kid whose name is most likely Cody. He had a juice box for breakfast and he carries a stick that he most likely found in the alley. Cody doesn't have friends and his parents hate each other and he wants to find a better way to love his family and after school he hangs out in the abandoned house behind the Arby's.”

The Bible 2 (2016)

“Oh, I love you cause I love you cause I can.”

“On your last night at Saint Mary's you were way too intoxicated to breathe. So I used your ribs as ladders and I climbed up on your chest and I jumped up and down just like a trampoline.”

“Confused and rude. Such a special kind of way to be cruel.”

“If I were one of the things, I'd be american garbage. The most beautiful thing. The most beautiful american garbage you have ever seen.”

“No more shame, no more fear, no more dread.”

“And if you don't want to feel the feeling, no one should ever make you feel the feeling.”

“I thought I saw you before I knew who you were.”

“I just wanted to rage but all I got was tired”

“I showed him all the books that I was raised on. Your Madeleine L'Engle(s) and D'Aulaires' Mythologies.”

“And his eyes became a beacon, an LCD projector, broadcasting all my memories in a clear and vivid picture. His tongue became a staircase, his uvula - The knocker of an ornate wooden door that lead me straight into my future. His throat became a hallway with a thousand baby pictures and I became forgiveness, I transformed into the closure that I lost when I learned about the tragedy of all of us. I lost it when I learned about the tragedy of all of us.”

Good Luck Everybody (2019)

“If you don't give it to them they'll starve to death and that's alright.”

“I've got the normalization blues, this isn't normal, this isn't good.”

“I'm detached and I'm distracted, all keyed up but unproductive, vacillating between being all excited and disgusted and then dozing lackadaisically in this bubble where I've made my mental home. Connection's more important now than it ever was, but I'd rather be alone.”

“And when we talk about the president, we're either pissed off or we're giggling about an atrocity he's committing or some stupid shit he's tweeting. He's a symptom and a weapon of the evil men who really run the show. The ones who melt down human beings into money like a cruel Sorcerer's Stone.”

“This is the golden age of dickotry, probably the last golden age of anything, and the ugliest word in the English language is anthropocene. Good luck, everybody. Good luck.”

“But before that, you'll be a doormat, for every vicious narcissist in the world. Oh how they'll screw you, all up and over, then feed you silence for dessert.”

“I'm sorry that you have to have a body, filled with infection, one hundred scabs singing in unison, eyes and hands, sometimes bullets, uninvited, passing through us.”

“Oh to be awake for such a shitty dream. A bullet in the head of every decent thing.”

“The lake of dead black children that America created is getting fuller than the founding Fathers even wanted. The ghost of great America was underestimated and now it rages like a cold sore on the lip of this dumb nation. Again we've slipped inside a pit of absolute despair. That's where we live.”

“Rewarding our worst cruelty, they destroyed our shared reality, and now they upsell us our dignity like some fucked VIP package.”

“There is no absolute, these days there's no such thing as truth and you don't need to be a dick about it.”

“I'm a burnout and a fool, oblivious to all I do. I move my lips when I read and breathe with my mouth open, wide open. Timid, meek, and cruel, this is the best that I can do. I need to speak my truth, yet here I'm broken wide, wide open. My resentment, big and strong, and all the things that I can't change. They'll buckle me beneath the weight. I will drive myself insane with all the things that I can't change. I hate all the things that I can't change.”

“You're a loudmouth and a tool, and as it turns out I am too, and you don't need to be a dick about it.”

“Because I know that you know what I need more than me and I know that you need me more than that.”

“For all the pussies you grab and the children you lock up in prison, for all the rights you roll back and your constant stream of racism, for all the poison you drip in my ear, for all your ugly American fear. I wrote you this beautiful song called Psychic Warfare.”

“I hate you with all of my heart. I hate you with all of my art.”

“I went back to the desert, little Midwest in me, and now I am colder than I used to be. I live in a fortress the shape of my body, and now there's a coldness, and it's shaped like me. Now I don't suffer any more bullshit gladly. Even though everything's bullshit now, here in 2019 and you can bet it's gonna be a bunch of bullshit too out in sweet 2020 or whenever this album's released.”

#ajj band #ajj #andrew jackson jihad

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translationandbetrayals · 3 years

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Satoru Kosaki: a Modern Anime Composer

fading memories

I don’t remember the first time I listened to a Satoru Kosaki composition. I think it might have been in Youtube, probably in a Loquendo or anime related video, and I know for sure that it was before watching any of the anime he actually scored. Nonetheless, I am also sure that I was impacted by them as soon as I became familiar with any of those themes, which wasn’t really hard considering how recurrent they were within the anime and early video-making community. I’m talking 2008-to-2012 kind of old.

The tracks were immediately recognizable and memorable, and while I wasn’t even initially aware they came from anime (I, for some reason, assumed they were public domain compositions, perhaps because of their repeated use), for better or worse, I ended up growing to like them, as funny and engaging. So that was effective.

I would later realize most of the themes I ended up accustomed to came from one source: the Lucky Star soundtrack, plus some of the Haruhi OSTs that might have been used too. Lucky Star is, if someone happens to not know about it, a comedy anime, which aims for mostly a familiar, comfortable ambience that I think gets captured perfectly in its OST. In fact, I think few OSTs come even close to the specific area Lucky Star’s so successfully hits.

Perhaps the exception could be the Azumanga Daioh OST, which might have been an influence based on the fact both works had the same music production company, Lantis, and that the very style of Lucky Star is quite similar as Azumanga’s, even adaptation wise, as both are 4-koma adapted as full-time weekly television slots.

lucky cool star

Now I’ve been talking about Satoru Kosaki scoring work. It is popular and good enough and as I said his work in Lucky Star is longstanding. But if you’re anywhere familiar with Lucky Star as a show you might be wondering about another thing. Who composed that motherflippin’ crazy OP theme? Was it Kosaki? Well yes it was.

There’s also some comparison to Azumanga Daioh, in that it presents a similarly crazed tune, but it also goes nuts in a different direction to Azumanga’s Soramimi Cake. While Soramimi Cake has an olden soul, closer to a folksy euro-japo mesh with nonsensical lyrics (think yodeling+enka), Motteke! Sailor Fuku sounds more like a cocaine driven hardcore edm moe hip-hop meltdown. Now this sounds more like a song that will revolutionize the industry and become a blueprint for following modern anime songs to come. And so it was, basically. After Lucky Star, everyone wanted to have their own deranged cutesy anime themes. And so you can blame Kosaki for your Umaru-chans, Nyarukos, Go! Go! Maniacs, etc.

Something that must be stressed about Kosaki’s theme for Lucky Star is that, on top of being so amazingly crazy and addictive, it was good music too. It was very well arranged and composed, and you should be thankful that he decided to bless us with equally amazing music, and even mentored or accompanied fellow artists that took on a similar approach to anime compositions. And that’s how MONACA enters the picture, as an active music collective of which Kosaki is part, that has had a hand, either by its members, or together as a group, in some of the most remarkable musical productions of recent times, even outside anime. (And like half of these are Hidekazu Tanaka’s... should I make a post about him?)

MONACA! with Kosaki at the middle-left

One of the most defining features of Kosaki’s work is his versatility. I have mostly talked about the Lucky Star music, but that should not be taken as his only reference. He’s able to manage climactic action just as well as the comfortable and funny.

Broadcast episode 12, Live Alive, is to me the actual climax of the Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. I don’t know if the same effect would’ve been accomplished without its signature insert song, now one of the most popular anisongs ever: God Knows, sung by Aya Hirano, who voices Haruhi in the show. It is likely you have listened to God Knows before, after all, it was at one time the most viewed anime related song in Youtube, and its popularity has gone way beyond the -admittedly already popular- source material.

god knows this is good

And this versatility affects not only the scope of his dramatic sensibilities, but also the stylistic elements of his work, which takes on a variety of musical genres. And that is just evident by looking at his anime song work, which even outside of the Lucky Star fusion finds moe-sung ska-punk, soviet-inspired funky metal mashups, hip-hop crossover anthems, PLATINUM DISCO, borderline outsider music, avant-pop delusion, epic rocking tracks, some idol music masterpieces, and of course, classic, straight melancholic J-pop.

This variety in style becomes even clearer when looking at his OST work, which tends to be wildly eclectic, either by his MONACA collaborations (like the soundtracks to Kizumonogatari, Beastars, or the Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya movie), or simply by virtue of his own character, in the various projects he scored individually (such as the aforementioned Haruhi and Lucky Star, or Bakemonogatari).

For example, the Kizumonogatari tracks which he composed include funny elevator jazz, french-spoken bossa, suspenseful ambient music, and sentimental, classical inspired stuff. I also really enjoy the Beastars work he’s done and I take it as proof he hasn’t gone stale, quite the opposite. He seems way more confident now in approaching different, out-there styles and arrangements, while also portraying a somewhat amusing maturity: he sounds to me a lot more like the Kuricorder Pops Orchestra or Oranges & Lemons, through the now classic Kosaki trademark nonetheless. And it’s probably because of his established success that he’s able to indulge in such styles now, while still maintaining his high profile as a popular music composer.

kiss-shot acerola-orion heart-under-blade

Even if you are not very well versed in anime, or even if you don’t like anime at all, but partake in current youth culture, it’s most likely that you’ve heard something made by him. Be it by memes referencing Kosaki’s past works, by the liberal use of his music to accompany mid-level internet content, or by his presence as a composer in some of the most successful and far-reaching anime today, such as Beastars and the Monogatari Series, his work has its footprints all around popular media. And I’m thankful that it happened this way, as he ended up enriching something I dearly know and love: the modern anime music industry.

our lord speaking

Salvador González Turrientes

Sources and recommended additional material:

A summary of Kosaki's first of many appearances in Anisong Station

His second appearance in Anisong Station, in which he talks about Lucky Star

Another Anisong Station episode, featuring Lantis founder Shunji Inoue

Satoru Kosaki’s VGMdb entry, which credits -in English- most of his video game and anime music appearances

The Wikipedia article, duh

The official Monaca profile list, including an archive of his body of work (in Japanese)

#Anime #Japan #personalstory #submission

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nomoregoldfish · 4 years

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Imagine catching Amado building secret airport in the jungle; Enemies to friends /w benefits (1/2)

Did someone just like all my JMY posts? YOU’RE NOT ALONE IN THIS DEEP SH*T. Hope you enjoy this, too ;)

You're a geologist working on the excavation of Yaxchilán, a remote Mayan site in Chiapas. Your job is to help fellow archaeologists to draw a map of the entire ancient city including ruins as many as possible, which largely remain uncovered and reclaimed by the jungle after being abandoned for centuries.

One day during the exploration along the Usumacinta River, you and your team run into a large construction site that isn't on the map. You suspect it might be illegal deforestation and you're going to report it. But your colleagues warn this kind of hidden site is probably owned by people way above your pay grade.

You find the narrow rectangle-shaped site a bit unusual. It almost looks like clearing a road at the heart of the forest.

You decide to go find out the truth yourself, that's when you meet a long-hair man dressed in black. In the FUCKING RAIN FOREST, humid and above 90 degrees at 10AM. WTF is wrong with this dude wearing the hottest aviation sunglasses you've ever seen?

"How can I help you, Ms... Geologist?" The fucker with a thick northern accent takes a glimpse of your INAH badge, "What brings you here?" You retort with the same question, accusing him of deforestation in the protected area. "There might be some Mayan ruins around? Sorry, I don't see any." The mocking tune of his is so irritating you want to punch him in the face...

Wait, he takes off the shades. How could that handsome face belong to such a douchebag? Goddamnit. The guy claims the land was legally bought but won't show you any document unless you have a warrant. You don't see he and his men carry any firearms but something in his eyes tells you there's danger. He doesn't need to reflex his muscle to show toughness.

You swallow any further question and leave. You need to figure out another approach.

You drive back to your camp, making phone calls to whoever might have the insight. Still not a single clue. No one in DF gives a fuck about what's going on in the middle of of vast jungles in Chiapas, the remote state sharing hundreds of miles of border with Guatemala, where cartels have been smuggling in all kinds of profitable produce from human to cocaine.

You're on your own. You have to find out why someone's claiming a large area of land in your territory which could jeopardize your research.

Sneaking in alone at night is probably not the best strategy but whatever. Say you're a bit too strong-headed. You manage to get into an office-like room, a blueprint hanging on the whiteboard. Turns out the road you saw earlier is actually a runway, plus a few giant warehouses near the end of the runway for the planes. Someone is building a secret airport.

You're stunned. And next moment, caught by the man himself.

This time he has you at gunpoint, with your hands clenched behind your back, "Nice to meet you again, Ms. Geologist, or should I call you Ms. Trespasser? By the way, I'm Amado, piloto. Any last word?"

His casual smile makes the death threat less intimidating. Maybe you can reason with Amado.

You try not to poke around the natural of his shady business. Just lay out the importance of the protected area for anthropology and archaeology studies, even for biodiversity conservation. Think about the howler monkeys and other indigenous species. Building an airport in the jungle already scare many animals away, let alone the huge air and sonic pollution once it's up and running. And you haven't finished the scan of the whole area. There could be multiple hidden ruins nearby.

You keep talking and talking, Amado never breaks the eye contact with you. And you stare back, looking into his dark eyes. It's mesmerizing.

"I love it when you talk about your shit." He moves close to you, closer than necessary that you can feel his body warmth through those dark clothes. Everything is too warm and damp in the tiny temporary room, like your t-shirt soaked with sweat that sticks to your skin and probably shows your tits, and his long neck and a strand of hair on his forehead. He smells exotic, like gunpowder and mahogany tree, both of which you deal with on a daily basis in the jungle.

You're not afraid of Amado as you should've been. Instead, you're fucking turned on. In a split second his forearms touch yours when he unties you, you kind of want it to last longer. That sleeves-rolled-up, three-buttons-open black shirt is not helping at all.

"You haven't asked what I do. Go on, Ms. Geologist, tell me more about what I could possibly do in your precious jungle." He does it on purpose, letting the hot breath brush over your ear. He's now standing behind you, big hands lingering on your waist when he finds out you lean to his touch.

It's like a slow dance, you move naturally along his body as you mumble the pivotal location the secret airport is built at. Which is the nearest to Guatemala, convenient for water transportation just using the border river, and more importantly holds the closest route from/to Colombia, a perfect mid-stop for business between Colombia and northern Mexico.

"So you've guessed what I do for living." Amado gives you a smirk. And you joke he's just a piloto. He laughs, a big one, praising you're the smartest woman he's ever met. Then he asks whether you'd continue the fight when you already know it's a done deal and who you're up against.

You look straight into Amado's eyes, telling him that he could've pulled the trigger the moment he caught you, but he didn't.

Your conversation is disrupted by one of his guys passing a call from el patrón patrón. Amado sighs, letting you sneak out.

The bastard fucking calls your camp later that night, claiming he's your boyfriend. You have to avoid all your colleagues to speak to him.

You're furious and ask how the fuck he gets the number.

"You think drug traffickers are banditote therefore they wouldn't catch the signal from another satellite phone in nearby areas and tap the calls, Ms. Geologist? I was actually flattered when you asked around about me the other day." You can imagine Amado's dangerously charming smile at the other end of the phone.

WTF. You CURSE, a lot.

"It's very hot when you curse, but even drug trafficker won't waste money on dirty talks over satellite phone. I just want to make sure of your safe return. Good night."

You'd never admit you masturbate to a drug trafficker that night. Not in a million years.

#narcos mexico #narcos mexico imagine #amado carrillo fuentes #what is wrong with me

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haydenbarnes · 4 years

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Terminus | Self Paragraph

TRIGGER WARNING: MURDER

In the half light of the alley, Hayden’s body casts disfigured patterns on the grey walls. The only change in them is his chest rising and falling, and his hands that he hadn’t even realized were shaking so badly. His jaw stung, he could taste the metallic blood that dripped from his nose. His right eye was barely able to stay open but it had to because he couldn’t stop staring. He couldn’t stop himself from staring as the blood matted itself into his hair or leaked out onto the ground. Hayden knew he should be running right now, he should be getting to a car and driving south never stopping for anything but gas. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t even move.

“I’m just going down to the 7/11, Riss, you need anything?” Hayden shouted as he sat on the browning, beat-up, second-hand couch and tied the laces of his boots. Since the fire, Hayden and Marissa had started to put patches over the last few years. They’d talked things out properly and had come to a mutual understanding with each other to let things die; to turn to a new chapter. It was refreshing having his best friend back. But, he was worried about her mental state, and after Scotty’s house party where she had been beaten up by some jumped up ex-business associates son he was worried about her safety too. He knew better than anyone how the past can come to haunt you.

There was no reply to his question, he furrowed his brow. “Marissa?” He called out as he moved through the apartment towards the room she’d been staying in. His fist rattled the wood before slowly opening the door. “Riss--” he said gently as he put his head through the crack and then saw she wasn’t in. “Weird...”. He was sure he hadn’t heard the door open. Hayden went to the front and sure enough, her keys were gone. Not giving it too much more thought, he grabbed his own set and threw them in his pocket before heading out.

Phone in hand, Hayden texted whilst he was walking into the center of Dayton. Let me know if you want anything in for when you get home, I’ll be at the 7/11 in twenty minutes so you got until then. You good? He pressed send and slid his phone back into his pocket, replacing it with a cigarette and lighter. There was always a sense of satisfaction as his thumb rolled over the metal flint wheel and created a spark first time. It wasn’t as good as that first lung fill from the first drag, but it was a close second.

For being in California, Dayton had an eery chill this late at night. The wind whipped around Hayden and caused him to pull his jacket tighter around his body as he jogged across the road onto the other sidewalk and turned the corner. He could hear the buzz of life ahead of him in the nightlife district. He looked down at his wrist; 11:09. It was the hour of the night that determined the following seven. Either you were calling it a day and heading home to bed, or you were committing to seeing the sunrise. There were no half measures in Dayton’s scene; all in or all out.

Hayden didn’t want any trouble, and he certainly didn’t want to be roped into staying out any longer than he had intended to be away from home for. He was trying to sober up a little bit, trying to stop taking the edge off every five hours which was the state he had got to before Marissa had moved in. So, he decided to take the back alley route through the club scene, a concrete maze he had worked his way around when escorting bloody, beaten and bruised patrons of The Labyrinth away from the business without drawing any untoward attention.

He was just getting to the back of the business in question when his attention was taken away from his path by the backdoors flinging open followed by a young man being quite literally thrown out into the alley. “If you show your face in here again, you won’t be able to walk for a month! You’re being watched, dickhead.”. The venomous tones of one of Ainsley’s other henchmen spat before slamming the doors closed. The man stumbled up to his feet and staggered to the doors, smashing his fists on them.

“I didn’t fucking cheat! Since when is being more clever than the dealer cheating?!” He shouted with pain, panic, and fear clear as day in his voice.

Hayden sighed and shook his head, dropping his gaze and composing himself as he felt that guilt begin to flood through his body. He could deal with it when he was involved. When he was the one throwing the punches and making the decisions. When the adrenaline was coursing through his veins, causing a better high than any combination of cocaine and heroin. He could deal with it then. But, watching and hearing the aftermath of actions he too committed was almost too much. It pulled at his moral heartstrings. Especially today. The anniversary of his Father getting murdered for mistakes he made.

“You’ll pay for this!” The guy carried on, clearly on some kind of adrenaline side effect where things were coming out like word vomit. “This whole place will pay for this! I-- I-- I’ll go to the press! Ainsley FUCKING Slater is going to be on every newspaper front page tomorrow!”

Hayden’s eyes flicked open, darkness flooded into his pupils. His chest dropped and his hands curled into fists. His jaw tensed, teeth clenched. Open the fucking doors. Bring him back in. Take him out of my reach. He prayed that if anyone was on the other side of those fire doors that they heard his threats, and would take him in for round two. Please.

“No-one fucks with a Weston and gets away with it!”

Weston.

Rage consumed Hayden, it was an amber that constantly burned in the pit of his stomach but the moment he heard that name it was like someone had doused it in oil and sent it blazing. His head snapped up and across to the sound of the voice and sure enough, there he was; Tate Weston, the red-head that beat up his best friend. The little brat who thought he could steal from his place of work. The fucking dead man walking who threatened Ainsley.

“You think you’re so big and hard, don’t you?” Hayden yelled as came out of the shadows of the joining alleyway into the dimly lit backway of the casino.

“I don’t think, I know. You think this place can stand up to the power my family has? This place won’t last a press campa--” Smack.

His fist smashed across Tate’s nose, the cracking sound of bone echoed in his ears. The red-head whelped in pain as crimson leaked from his nostrils. Hayden pulled his fist back and plowed it straight into Tate’s stomach like a hitting a train head-on. When Tate coughed, dark purple sprayed out over Hayden’s lower leg and his shoes. He staggered backward, holding a hand in the air like a white flag. “Okay, okay, okay, s-- st--” he coughed again, blood splattering up the side of a trashcan he used for support. “Stop--” Tate shallowly panted as he collected himself.

Hayden’s hands were shaking as it began to physically hurt to hold himself back. “Is that what Marissa said to you?!” He yelled. “Is that what she begged after you hit her the first time?! What about the second?! What about when she was laying on the floor and you laid your foot into her ribs for good fucking measure!” Hayden’s powerful voice boomed off the metal in the passageway. “I should kill you!” He swallowed, taking another step to Tate. “I should fucking kill you!”

Tate took a staggered breath before pushing himself up to his feet and squaring up against Hayden. “Yeah? Well th-- then why am I still alive?” He bit back through gritted teeth before making the last wrong decision of his life; fight back. Tate’s arm left his stomach and pulled backward before springing out to the others' cheek, sending Hayden’s head flying right. He staggered on the spot to keep himself from falling and after regaining his balance was able to get another hit on the bartender, cutting up through his jaw and eye socket.

The darkness completely shrouded Hayden. It consumed and took over him like a deadly virus, attacking every last good morale in his body. His mistakes had already cost his Father his life; was letting this rich kid go free going to ruin another person he cared about? Yes. It was time he took his own action, wasn’t it? He needed to make sure he wouldn’t speak to the press; that he couldn’t speak to the press. The was a primal sound that came from deep within Hayden’s stomach, a growl that took him back to the dark ages.

He grabbed hold of Tate’s collar. There was a rasp as the material ripped under the pressure of his grip. There was a ringing in Hayden’s head from the blows the ginger had managed, but that was all that was in there. Everything else was silent; focused on the task. There was no moral dilemma, no attempt to hold his thinking to account. He was going kill him.

Tate must have been able to see that in his eyes because the man suddenly changed his tune. He started begging, but Hayden couldn’t hear what he was saying, it was like he was speaking underwater or through soundproof glass. Hayden pulled his fist back and delivered a strike. Then another, then another until he was pounding at Tate’s face, breaking every socket and bone structure it held. His own knuckles popped at the force, the pain coursing through his arm but never slowing him down until the collar he had been holding onto snapped and Tate’s lifeless body fell to the ground in a heap. Hayden’s foot slammed into his chest before he stumbled backward, eyes open wide.

Everything stopped.

“Move... C’mon... Move...” He finally snapped back to reality, dropping down beside Tate’s face and taking it in his hands. Hayden tried slapping his cheeks, he lifted as much of an eyelid as he could find among all the blood and swelling. There was nothing. No movement, no pupil dilation. Hayden grabbed hold of his arm, his heart smashing against his ribcage as his fingers wrapped around his wrist. “C’mon, c’mon-- you bastard, c’mon,” he muttered as he tried to move his fingers around to find a pulse.

Nothing.

Hayden swallowed but there was nothing but blood to go down. His mouth was dry. His skin faded color and-- Fuck, he was going to be sick. His feet stumbled over themselves as he made his way quickly to a nearby trash can, pushed the lid off and threw up into it. What the fuck had he done? What the fuck was he going to do? He can’t go back to prison. He can’t go back to the East coast ‘cause he’ll end up like fucking Tate. Think. Think... Ainsley... This is her place, right? She could-- she could do something, right? Anything? Dylan... Dylan knew the streets, she knew Dayton, she knew the cops...

He nodded to himself as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and fumbled over the keys. He pressed Ainsley’s name and put the phone to his ear as the dialing tone came on. He paced. He made the mistake of looking back to the lifeless body and almost threw up again. Fuck. FUCK.

“Ainsley?” He practically whispered when the woman picked up the phone. “I need you-- I need you to fucking get Dylan, and-- Ainsley, just fucking listen to me! I need you to come to the back of the casino. I-- Ainsley, he’s fucking dead.”

He’s fucking dead.

#self paragraph #ft; tate #ft; dylan #ft; ainsley #TW: Murder #self para

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the--sad--hatter · 5 years

Text

Phantom Pain (25)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - Bucky X Reader

WARNINGS - Bad Habits and Rough Sex, Angsty and Dark AF.

DESCRIPTION - Everybody in the world knew of you, but not who you really were. Some called you a vigilante, some called you a criminal and some called you a hero but all of them called you The Phantom.

Only two people knew your real identity and they swore to never tell anyone but when The Avengers need to infiltrate a high-security facility, Bruce Banner deduces that you’re the only one who can pull it off. That decision puts you and Bucky Barnes on a path you can’t turn back from, even if neither of like where it’s leading.

Series Masterlist

Chapter Twenty-Five - Two Kings

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he fell to his knees and gasped. His strength left him and he collapsed, the death rattle of his final breaths tearing from his lungs. You calmly knelt beside him on the ground and though he didn’t deserve it, you took his hand.

“I’m here.” You whispered.

He tried to say something, but you couldn’t hear him. With a sigh, you leant down and let Alexander King whisper his dying words in your ear.

“I’m not Alexander King, your father is buried under the oak tree.”

The two King corpses lay side by side on tables next to one another. One that had been dead for less than 24 hours and one that had been dead for nearly two decades.

“DNA analysis is done.” Bruce told you and you looked up from the tables to stare blankly at him.

“We compared the DNA samples to yours. This one shares no traits at all with you. It doesn’t have any DNA traits at all as far as we can tell.” He said, gesturing to the fresh corpse.

“This one… this is your biological father.” He said with a heavy sigh standing by the skeletal remains.

“But that IS Alexander King. It looks exactly like him and if they don’t share DNA does rule out evil twin?” Clint said from behind you where he and The Avengers were gathered.

“We discovered something. His cells have been tampered with, there’s dozens of enhancements and alterations to his genetic code. We theorised that someone, most likely Hydra went to a lot of effort to make whoever this is look like Alexander King. We can’t be sure until we study the body further.” Tony said.

Everyone kept shooting furtive, concerned glances at you as you remained silent and stone faced throughout the exchange.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve said, rubbing his hand over his jaw as he considered the implications of what this meant.

“So anybody could be an imposter?” Sam asked.

“Unlikely. It was a miracle this man survived this, it’s likely he was the first one to survive. This kind of science takes a lot of failed experimentation.” Bruce informed them.

“Why King?” Steve asked.

“He was smart, powerful, rich and his brother in law was at the time, a United States General.” Tony said.

You turned around and without looking at anybody, left the room. You made it as far as the corridor before Bucky caught up with you and grabbed your elbow. You stopped and looked at him.

Whatever he’s been about to say died in his throat when he looked into your eyes and he knew he couldn’t fix this. Regretfully he let go of you and let you walk away. He didn’t want to but he knew if he didn’t, he’d only push you away further. You needed your space and he needed to give it to you.

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

You didn’t return to the compound that night or the next day and The Avengers would have been worried if it wasn’t for the news that kept trickling in.

THE PHANTOM BUSTS DRUG DEAL AT DOCKS

Over Three Million Dollard worth of cocaine recovered at scene.

PHANTOM BOTCHES ATTEMPTED SHOOTING OF CLUB OWNER

The Owner Lux was about to be gunned down by business rival when The Phantom appeared and saved Mr Ellis and apprehended the shooter.

PHANTOM BREAKS UP GANG FIGHT

Members of two rival gangs were in a gun battle when The Phantom showed up and took down all the gang members before leaving the scene for the police and personally taking one man who had suffered a near fatal gunshot wound to the hospital.

“She’s had a busy 24 hours, she needs to slow down.” Steve noted with worry as he read the latest article.

“There’s been no new reports for a couple of hours, maybe she’s taking a nap?” Sam suggested hopefully.

“Or not.” Natasha said, showing them a live tweet about Miss King currently meeting with employees of The Hercules Foundation to reassure them of their job stability.

The pattern continued for the next four days. You would take down a string of criminals, take business meeting and meet with investors, rest, rise and repeat. You never went back to the compound and West was growing more and more concerned.

Even Frank the cat was growing despondent until he disappeared from the grounds altogether. West assured Bucky that it was normal for Frank to do that.

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

You sat down on the chair, keeping yourself hidden in the shadows as you waited. You weren’t kept waiting long. You heard the heavy tump of footsteps before someone unlocked the door and came inside. They walked past you and put a paper bag down on the desk and you heard the distinctive clink of a bottle.

“It’s rude to break in and wait around for someone to come home. Not to mention creepy.” She said without turning around.

You didn’t answer, just stood up and dropped a file and a bag of cash on the desk.

“I don’t take walk ins. Next time make an appointment.” She sassed and you looked her over.

Jessica Jones was pretty much what you had expected and any other time in your life you’d have appreciated her dry remarks and cold sass. You flipped the file open and two photo’s of the two King corpse were exposed as well as a pile of papers, the Hydra logo prominent on some of them.

It was enough to pique her curiosity and she leaned over to leaf through them, her expression getting more and more shocked as she did. She unzipped the duffle bag and picked up a wad of bills.

“Alright, what the hell. Daredevil trusts you so I’ll take the case.” She said and you nodded to her and tuned to leave.

“I’ll have to read through these but straight away I’m telling you, I want to speak to the daughter. She demolished the company within days of the apparently fake Alexander King dying. Seems suspicious.” She said.

“She had nothing to do with it.” You said lowly.

“Still wanna talk to her, have a look at the company files.” Jessica responded.

“I can get you whatever you need but I’m telling you Miss King had nothing to do with this.” You told her, turning around again.

“How can you be sure?”

You wordlessly pulled your mask off and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Alright.” She said, shrugging and turning back to the file.

You almost smirked as you pulled the mask on and left. As you walked the three block back to where you’d parked your bike the skin on the back of your neck prickled and you felt like someone was watching you. You ghosted, going invisible instead of just sticking to the shadows but the feeling didn’t dissipate.

You made it back to your bike and started the engine, peeling out of the parking space and racing away.

Ten minutes later you made it to your destination and bypassing the security system you parked the bike under an alcove where it was hidden from sight. You tugged a glove off with your teeth and put your hand on the scanner at the front door and slipped inside, leaving the door unlocked.

Only two people could track where you were when you were invisible and only one of those would bother.

“An abandoned church? Really?” Bucky asked as he slipped through the door after you.

“Condemned a few years ago. When I realised I needed somewhere private for my Vigilante related stuff I bought it under a shell corporation, it can’t be traced back to me at all.” You said as you took off all the individual pieces of your suit until you were in a tank top and leggings.

“So you’ve been hiding here all week rather than coming home?” He asked.

“There a bed in the attic.” You said with a shrug.

“An empty bed.” He pointed out softly.

You pretended to ignore him and the painful throb of your heart and went to the living room are you’d set up and poured yourself a glass of whisky. Frank meowed loudly from the rafters and leaped down onto the floor to run over to Bucky and rub himself against the Winter Soldiers shin.

“Want one?” You asked, holding the bottle out in offering.

“No. Does it help with the pain?” He asked, motioning angrily to the new and healing bruises and cuts covering your arms and shoulders.

“Can’t ghost all the time, sometimes you gotta fight.” You explained.

“Ever thought about asking for backup?”

“Don’t need it.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Doesn’t hurt to know someone is there for you.” He said.

“We’re not talking about fighting anymore are we?” You asked with a weary sigh.

He sat down next to you and you fought the urge to lean closer to him and the warmth and comfort he offered.

“When my memories started to come back, I ran to the other side of the world, away from the person who could have helped me, who would have been there for me. I know that sometimes you need to work things out on your own, that’s why I let you go. But it helps when you let the people you care about in, let them help. Trust me, I know from experience.” He said.

You chewed your lip and nodded once, curtly to show you’d hear him but when you didn’t respond beyond that he sighed.

“It’s doesn’t have to be me Domniţă, but it has to be someone. I’m not the only one who cares about you, you have friends. Let someone, anyone be there for you.” He instructed and stood up.

He leaned over to place a soft kiss to your forehead and you closed your eyes to hide the tears welling up in them as he walked away.

“He wasn’t the same person after my mother died. I said it, over and over again and not once did I realise how true it was. My father rotted in an unmarked grave for 18 years and I had no idea. I accepted the imposter without question.” You said, tearing up and getting annoyed at yourself for it.

“You were a child, one who was mourning her mother. How could you have seen it? The disguise was flawless.” He argued.

“He was my father. I should have known.” You snapped standing up and storming away.

“He played the part well. Nobody else figured it out and they were adults so stop beating yourself up about it.”

“I CAN’T!” you yelled.

“I can’t Bucky. He was my dad and I believed he hated me. I desecrated his memory and let his killer go unpunished for decades.” You said, pleading with him to understand.

“You know now. We’ll figure out what happened, we’ll make it right.” He assured, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you.

“How? How do I solve a murder that happened 18 years ago? Do I even want to? How do I make this right and be a hero and run a company and keep my secrets and be with you all at the same time?” You asked breathlessly, overwhelmed by the magnitude of it all.

“With help.” He said.

“It’s too much. It’s too much pressure and too much pain and I don’t think I can handle it.” You admitted.

“Let me help you.” He pleaded.

“How? How can you make any of this better?”

He looked down at you in contemplation.

“We start with the man in prison for your mothers murder, he might know more. As for the company, you need a Pepper Potts, someone to help you. Next time you’re a press conference, we’ll have Loki disguise himself as The Phantom and publicly be seen so nobody ever thinks about connecting you to the Vigilante. And accept that I have no expectations of you, you don’t have to do anything except be with me, it’s not a task or a chore.” He said and you gazed up at him in awe and wonder.

“And Domniţă you don’t have to be a hero, you already are one, on the battlefield and in the boardroom.” He added.

You were speechless and overwhelmed by his mini speech, his confidence in you and his desire to help. So you stretched up and pressed your lips to his.

He accepted the kiss eagerly, holding onto you tightly kissing you back with equal fervour. His metal hand slid up your back and grasped the back of your neck as he nipped your bottom lip and sliding his tongue into your mouth when you gasped.

“Did you say there was a bed?” He murmured, pulling back a fraction.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to use it?” He smirked.

“I don’t just want it, I need it. I need you Bucky, please.” You whispered, begging him to pull you out of your own head and give you pleasure and safety in the way only he could.

His pupils expanded as he drank in the meaning behind what you were saying.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

“Irrevocably.” You said without hesitating.

“Turn around.” He ordered and you did.

He stepped away for a moment and quickly returned. He brushed his fingers across your shoulders and down your arms, clasping your wrist in his grip before he pulled them behind your back. He waited for a moment to see if you were going to object and when you didn’t, he pushed your wrists together and expertly bound them together with a soft piece of material.

“What’s the safeword?” he checked.

“Winter.”

“Good girl.”

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

Well this might answer some questions but it probably raises some new ones as well. Fear not though readers, Jessica Jones is on the case!

Next up... Smut! :D

@drdorkus @gravedollie666 @sadsoldat @bigplantdaddy @moodyruth @likes-to-smell-books @shirukitsune @inquisitor-selvala @myfandomlife-blog @markusstraya @adeleoctobre @vajeenparty @sexyvixen7 @love-nakamura @buckitybarnes @littledeadrottinghood @pinkisokay @jsmith509 @brownlee-22 @angieptt @thosesexytexasboys @liveonce-sodoitright @tarastudiesalot @spnrvt @dahkness @dilaila95 @rororo06 @mizzzpink @release-the-cathyrchkn @thefridgeismybestie @fairislesheets @strangersstranger @life-wanderer @uuuuuuuuggggghhh @curiositykilledthepepe @musingpredilection @boxofteenageideas @thelostallycat @demonlover87 @cutie1365 @mcuthemusical @caroldanvers616 @chipilerendi @scarlettswxtch @undiscovered-misunderstood @itsmejessicasstuff @musingsofafangirlblog @moli1497 @deathofmissjackson

#hattersmarvelverse #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader

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eighthchiharu · 6 years

Text

BroDave Week, Day 1: Mythology

AN: I am hella late, and this is incomplete, but here we are. Using a prompt from the Stridercest Discord Server.

Dirk called first.

Dave could've ignored it, and was tempted. Not because he was busy, but because he wasn't. He was enjoying a rare moment to himself, stretched out on the clean white sheets of his bed, listening to his own music and counting the wavy lines and whorls of red and green on the ceiling of his bedroom. It was like living in a perpetual Christmas, but he'd gotten used to it. Now, it wasn't a weird color scheme, it was his space. It made him feel peaceful and calm, and there hadn't been a lot of any of that in the three months of settling into their new jobs.

'King', it turned out, was kind of a big deal.

But it wouldn't be fair to ignore Dirk, not when Dirk had answered Dave's calls at all hours of the night. So Dave rolled over and scooped up his phone, tugging one earbud out.

"Sup homeslice?"

"Hey, man," Dirk said. "You at your place?"

"Yep. Kickin' back, listening to some pretty sweet tunes. Not making any monumental, kingly, world-altering decisions, though that'll probably change in the next half hour, seeing as Karkat and Jade use me as a tie-breaker every time one of them gets it into their heads to do so much as change the curtains around here. D'you know how many times we've changed curtains? Twelve. Twelve times. It's like watching Martha Stewart self-destruct in a cocaine, Monster-fueled binge."

Dirk snorted. "I'll trust that you're the Martha Stewart expert around here. But I wasn't calling about her. I was calling to, y'know, kinda... Kinda give you a heads-up."

Dave raised eyebrows at the whorly ceiling. "What, you comin' over?"

"I can if you want, but that's not it. It's about Friday."

"What's Friday?"

"You know, that festival they're having? The one with the banners in the street? The orange and red flags, that logo with the sword and the shield, I know you've seen this shit."

"I wasn't gonna embarrass you by calling attention to this obviously gay party they intend to throw for the coolest members of the Earth-C pantheon," Dave said, grinning. "I'm not into RPF, but hey, if they wanna ship us, I won't tell 'em no. They've been doing it for a thousand years or something already, right? Might as well let 'em keep on with it. I'm no party pooper. Freedom of religion and all that, people deserve to worship what they please, and I'm giving my official stamp of approval. People of Earth-C, please imagine my clone brother and I having hot, sweaty sex. Draw fanart of us. Compose odes to parts of Dirk's body I've never seen and don't ever wish to see. Go for it. Draw dicks. Draw dicks touching. Make everything touch."

"Dave."

"I'm kidding. Well, not about letting them do whatever they're doing that involves us, their gods, but maybe about the dicks touching."

Dirk paused, which meant he was either rolling his eyes and praying for strength, or he was struggling to stay on the line.

"I'm kidding," Dave said again. "Sorry, go ahead. What'd you wanna tell me?"

"The celebration," Dirk said slowly. "It's not about you and me."

Dave's eyebrows went higher. "No? They kinda messed with the color schemes then, big time. Can we sue? Like, red and orange are our official hues, aren't they? I think we can make some kind of legal stand here. Get a court to grant us rights over specific colors in the light spectrum. Do we even need a court? Do we have God Mod powers or something?"

Another pause. "It's about you, yeah. And it's sort of about me, but not me-me. A version of me. That's what the orange is for."

"A version?" This was getting weird. Were the people of Earth-C unsure which Dirk was their god, and so had different days celebrating different slivers? "Which version?"

"Your version."

"My version? Isn't that you?"

"No, Dave. It's... It's about your brother," Dirk said. Dave's heart seemed to drop out of his back, past his ribs, hurtling through the mattress and the floor straight toward the center of the planet. "You and your brother. That's what it's about."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

It took Dave four hours to decide that he wasn't afraid, and another four hours attempting to figure out exactly what he wasn't afraid of. It was dark by the time he decided he should stop worrying about what might happen, and concentrate on what would definitely not happen.

Bro was dead. That was a fact.

Bro was not coming back. Probably. No, definitely. Absolutely definitely not.

Bro was crazy, and dead, and was definitely, definitely not coming back.

Even if Dave wanted him to.

No.

Dave did not want that. Bro coming back would be the worst. It would ruin everything. He would ruin everything. Dave had a place and a life and people who expected things of him. He couldn't give it all up, fuck everyone else over, just to go back to Bro.

Not that he would. He wouldn't. Of course he wouldn't. Why would he? Bro gave Dave nothing but pain. There was no reason to want him, no reason at all.

Except his perfect pecs and his tight ass.

Fuck.

With a desperate, abbreviated groan, Dave shoved his hands up under his sunglasses, digging the heels of his palms into the aching soreness of his eye sockets. There was something wrong with him. He knew there was. It was the worst secret of all. Not that his friends would judge him. Well, they might, but that wasn't what scared him. Bro scared him. With his big hands, and his wide shoulders, and his silent, smoldering aura, thick with silent, mocking possibility.

Dave could still remember the way Bro covered Dave's hands with his during their brief soundboard lessons. The touch of those calloused fingers after a strife, threading through Dave's hair, checking his scalp for injuries. The brush of rough thumbs over Dave's cheeks, over his collarbones.

He groaned louder and shoved his sunglasses off, rolling onto his stomach to bury his hot face in the cool pillows.

The juju-colored ceiling hung above him, swirly in his memory, taunting.

If only you could rid yourself of those pesky inhibitions, it seemed to say. If only you could admit to yourself what you wanted. If only you were man enough, you might be free.

It was a lie. He would never be man enough. He would never be as good --

He squashed the thought. It didn't matter. Bro was not coming back. Dave just had to make it through Friday, and everything would go back to the way it was. No more too-honest thoughts. No more re-awakening of long-buried, covetous feelings.

Friday, and then freedom.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

AN: Maybe tbc? We shall see...

#brodave #dave strider #bro strider #incomplete #fanfiction #my writing #homestuck #striders #brodave-week

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iwritethingsandstuffs · 6 years

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We Need Your Help Pt. 2

Requested by: @justcallmecinammon

Relationship: Connor x Reader

Prompt:

Words: 1206

A/N: Sorry this is coming out late! Wifi has been very crappy lately and school has been kicking my ass (specifically pap chemistry). This will be my last DBH request, but I've been thinking about writing a fic for an anime I've been watching, so stay tuned for that! I hope you like this second part!

You ended up having to drive your car because Connor had apparently walked all the way to your house.

However, driving with Connor wasn't bad. It was actually pretty funny. Since you didn't know where to go, Connor acted as your GPS. It was hard not to laugh when he spoke “turn right in 200 feet” or “go straight for one mile”.

You pulled into the driveway, parking right behind Hank's car and turned off the engine. You both silently got out the car and looked at the house.

It was a house suitable for a middle class family, easily costing around $500,000. Everything on the outside looked perfect. Too perfect.

The flower bed was completely tended to, and the bushes were trimmed. There was no sign of deterioration on the house. It seemed like the house of a normal family.

You knew better.

There wasn't any physical evidence of it, but you knew that there was something there.

Connor followed behind you, but not to close as to give you space to do your thing.

You opened the door and saw Hank and some other cops in the living room. You recognized one of them as Chris.

One of the other cops handed you a pair of gloves, which you promptly put on. Walking over to Hank, you asked, “what have you found?”

Hank turned his head to you, an annoyed look in his eyes, “Nothing. We've looked in every nook and cranny in this damned house, and we haven't found anything.”

You smirked at him, “Yeah, but you guys aren't me. I'm better than you guys.”

Hank rolled his eyes, “you know, one day, that cockiness of yours is gonna get you in fuckin’ trouble.”

You gave the old man a tooth grin, “that's the plan!”

You walked off into a different room of the house that you recognized as the kitchen.

You decided against opening the cabinets and drawers. If there was going to be anything in there, Connor would have found it. You brushed your hand against the marble counter of the island in the middle of the kitchen, the smooth cool surface feeling pleasant running against your gloved fingers.

You felt the world around you fall silent, the chatter in the other room now blocked from your mind as you scanned the room.

This person they’re after is definitely intelligent. You could tell because there wasn't any hidden hiding places in the cabinets.

However, you soon found out that they aren't intelligent enough.

You were in the bedroom. You scanned everything down with you eyes. That was when they had stopped at the curtain rod.

It wasn't noticeable at first glance, but when you got closer, you saw that it had been recently removed.

You went to the kitchen to get a chair, catching the attention of Hank and Connor. The followed you into the bedroom, confused with what you need the chair for.

Connor watched as you stepped onto the chair, eyes quickly fluttering from your ass to your hands. He had to admit, you had a nice ass.

He watched as you screwed off the end of the curtain rod. A small paper fell out and you read it.

You turned your head, a smirk on your face, “told you I'm better.”

Your move your butt back and forth, lightly tapping the floor with your feet, the smooth sound of jazz sweeping across the room, paintbrush in hand. Just one last little detail—

And done!

You put your palette and brush down, sloppily tap dancing, a goofy smile on your face. You were very pleased with your work.

You must have not heard the ring of your doorbell because you jumped as you heard the door to the room creak open.

“Oh, I hope I'm not interrupting,” a light blue blush danced across Connor’s face as he spoke.

You grabbed the remote for you stereo and turned down the song. Turning to Connor, you said, “No, of course not. I actually just finished the painting.”

You stepped aside to reveal your work. “It's beautiful…” Connor was at a loss for words, something that doesn't happen very often.

His eyes glazed over every little detail on the canvas. It was truly remarkable how fast and efficient you could work.

Connor looked at the painted (E/C) that he'd fallen in love with.

He stared at the painting you'd made of yourself.

“I figured it was time I do myself. I guess I was putting off. Didn't really want to admit that I hadn't grown to my full potential yet.”

You had a faraway look in your eyes; Connor assumed it was because you were thinking of your past.

Deciding to not get too depressing, you changed the subject, “so how'd it go with that drug bust? I heard it was pretty huge.”

“You are correct. We were able to arrest 67 people and confiscate a large shipping container with red ice and cocaine.”

You looked at the android incredulously, “Jesus Christ! What fucking idiots…” You shook your head as you laughed.

“I wanted to thank you, (Y/N),” you looked at Connor, a hint of confusion spread across you features. “If it hadn't been for you, we wouldn't have been able to finish this case.”

You felt a tug inside your chest. “It's really no problem. You can always come to me for help no matter what.”

“That's not the only thing I wanted to thank you for.” This made you raise your eyebrows.

“I want to thank you for everything you've done for me. I want to thank you for staying by my side before I was deviant. I want to thank you for trusting me even after I treated you so coldly when we first met. I want to thank you for being there for me after I turned deviant,” Connor paused, taking a step closer to you after each sentence was spoken.

“I want to thank you for being the reason I turned deviant,” Connor was now right in front of you, only a few inches dividing the two of you. “I love you, (Y/N).”

You eyes widened and you opened your mouth slightly in surprise. Your throat was dry. “What…”

Connor looked down at the floor, “I'm sorry I just suddenly dropped this on you. I just couldn't hold it in anymore. I understand if want to stay friends or don't want to talk to me anymore because of this. I won't push you to do anything you don't want to.”

When you didn't say anything Connor’s heart fell, “I should leave and let you think.”

Just as he passed you, you turned and grabbed his wrist, pulling him into a hug. You pressed your face into his chest.

“Don't go. I'm sorry, I was just surprised. I didn't think the guy I like would stand here and confess to me.” You looked up to Connor’s face, still hugging him. You moved your hand to his cheek, “you have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to say those words to me.”

You moved your mouth to his lips, and they meet in a sweet kiss.

You could get used to this.

#dbh #detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh connor rk800 #dbh rk800 #connor #dbh hank anderson #dbh hank #hank anderson #dbh connor x reader #dbh rk800 x reader #connor x reader #rk800 x reader #rk800

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praphit · 6 years

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MI6: if you're not peeling off your face and eating waffle ice cream... you're not living.

We have gotten some great action this year, haven't we??!

First we got Liam Neeson, literally jumping from train car to train car. One train car simply didn't contain enough bad guys to beat up. Seriously, picture Liam Neeson getting bored on the train, (due to already beating everyone up), crawling out the window, climbing up top of the train car, so he could jump to another car to beat asses - that's how this year started!

Then, we got Thanos - who beat up an entire universe; let that soak in. Not only did he beat up a universe, but a universe full of superheroes. He beat them in humiliating fashion, and then made them disappear. I don't know if anyone in history has ever known such defeat.

We had Black Panther, fighting for all black people. I could have sworn I saw someone walking through the mall wearing a BP outfit; that's accepted as normal now. Black Panther is now part of our culture/heritage.

And of course we had about five movies with The Rock in them (prob five more to come). He has been beating up anyone he can find: gangs, giant gorillas, wanna-be super villains - the last movie I saw him in he jumped from one building to another building (on fire, mind you... the building was on fire... though it wouldn't have surprised me if The Rock had also been casually on fire as well) - he had a prostetic leg, which was coming off - so a one-legged Rock jumped from one tall building to another, through a window, so he could beat up this burning building.

That's a whole lot of action! - and I love it!

But, my man Tom Cruise says - "Pssh, you call that action? - All of that CG, all of those "super powers", all of those fake explosions and stunt men. I do it phorealz! Let me remind y'all how it's really done."

- Though we may say "But, Tom, you're 55 years old!"

TC: "55 years young, baby... 55 years young."

BOOM! All in yo face with the action in "MI6: Fallout"

Here we find Ethan Hunt (TC) once again accepting a mission. But, this time, he seems sad about it. This time he's battling inner demons. He's thinking to himself, "Man, I'm tired. I've been making these movies for so long. I've lost count on how many bones I've broken trying to entertain you fools who won't go to see my Oscar worthy performances anymore. Plus, how many loved ones have I put in danger by choosing to accept these impossible missions?"

All of this doubting and self loathing is "falling out" and compiled on top of failing a mission, and BOOM! - we're on our way!

I'm not gonna waste time here - I LOVED THIS MOVIE! TC knows what I love! Not just what I LIKE, but what I LOVE!

I like Burger King (double whopper, are you kidding me?? Onion Rings... and those french toast sticks... lip smacking good), but I LOVE this new place I discovered in Hampden (Baltimore), MD. It's called "Waffie" (if you care about enjoying life you'll google it and go) - Waffle/Desserts, and even ice cream action. I'd go there every day and every night if I could. I may get a job there... I'm going to own that place one day.

Oh my goodness... each bite takes me to Heaven.

Gonna get married in that place. My wife will give birth in that place. And yes, I will be buried in that place too... with a ice cream waffle in my mouth....

But, anyway.... people may say, "John Praphit, that sounds like obsession to me." To that I say, "You don't know what love is!" If it's not border line insane, it's not love!

LOVE, people! TC gives it to me with these MI movies. You never get tired of what you love:

Masks - Why aren't more movie makers putting face-peel-offs in their films?

They make any movie better!

Think about The Titantic! Remember when Leo asks Kate Winslet to kindly strip down so he may wholesomely paint her? What if after she undresses... BAM! - face peel off! Maybe she's an elderly black lady under there!

It'll even work for a cartoon. Remember "Inside Out"? - the character "Joy". As we get to know Joy and how joy works in our lives. The other emotions start cheering Joy, the camera zooms in and... BOOM! - face peel off! Now, she's not an emotion at all, but a cocaine addiction. YES! - see that?? - layers!

Action -

There is a bathroom scene in here that has one of the best action sequences of all time! In fact, this changes the game. Everybody is going to do their action in the bathroom from now on. The Rock's next movie, on his way to fight some sorcerer, he'll prob jump out of a plane, through a ceiling, into a bathroom for an epic battle.

There's also a helicopter scene in here (TC actually flying) - it's kickass, and somehow while it's all so amazing with the action, the shots of the scernery are equally as amazing. This director was able to entertain me with more than bullets and karate, but with a beautiful sunrise.

It was like - "Damn, your face is ALL effed up! But, that part of the mountain is so vivid... it's a shame someone is about to blow it up."

Lastly (with the action), there's a scene where Tom sprints for like 15 minutes straight. TC is a good bit older than me... I have never ran that well in all of my life, and I used to run track & field. TC should be running in the Olympics.

Espionage (& music) - I was once again hyped that I can accomplish anything in life as long as I assemble the right team. And that music! You can tell whether the mission is going to fail or succeed by the music. You know that MI tune :) I wish life were that way. Let's all start praying that God adds some cool music to our personal lives; when it cranks up we know we're on the right track.

This movie is really all about the team, not just TC! - that's prob why it works so well. Everyone has their chance to shine. That's the prob with peepz like Denzel and The Rock; they never have the right team assembled... they usually never have a team at all. Tom doesn't really have to carry these movies (though he's a great actor) - it's all about the mission, the friends, the suspense, and the face peel offs, baby! Denzel and The Rock ain't got none of that (though I love them both).

I recently saw Denzel's "The Equalizer 2" - decent action flick, but it was only good when Denzel was on camera (by himself, cuz other people just dragged him down). Learn from MI movies! It's about the team!

You may say, "But, Praphit, what about The Avengers?" Aaaah, they've got the team, but they don't have TC's tenacity; his utter craziness to keep doing his own stunts. Captain America and Iron Man and Thor and all of them play it too safe; that's why Thanos won. If TC were leading them, they would have beaten Thanos to an awesome soundtrack, and someone would have ripped off their face! Maybe Black Widow... to reveal she has been Stan Lee the whole time.

Grade: A

I'm sure they'll make another one. TC doesn't seem to be slowing down anytime soon. Are there any young action heroes anymore? - apparently it doesn't matter, but I can't think of any (Vin, The Rock, Liam, Charlize, Denzel, Will, Keanu, Gal, Scarlett, Sly) - not that these peepz are... you know... OLD (well some are), but no twenty somethings. Action heroing is an old persons game! It takes time to develope kick ass moves, to find ridiculous scripts, and piss bad guys/gals off.

Tom Cruise (and others still putting your bodies through this madness at an older age), I salute you. May your craziness and dedication never waver in making these silly movies for us.

I want to see MI10, with Tom in his 70's, still sprinting and peeling off his face.

#Mission Impossible #Fallout #MI6 #john praphit #praphitproductions.com #tom cruise #Avengers #The Rock #praphit #liam neeson #denzel #action movies #action heroes

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nextsteprecoveryasheville · 4 years

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Everything You Need To Know About Men’s Addiction

Read the original post: Everything You Need To Know About Men’s Addiction from Asheville’s Best Substance Abuse Treatment or read it below.

Addiction in men is uniquely challenging for those seeking long-lasting sobriety.

As men use addictive substances, many factors can lead to dependency. Addiction is more than coping—it can result from any number of biological or genetics issues.

As you start the path to recovery, we want you to know how men’s addiction works.

We’ll cover some of your most pressing questions about addiction in males:

What is men’s addiction?

Is addiction different for men and women?

Why do men get addictions?

What are common addictions in men?

What challenges do men face in addiction care?

What should I know before starting addiction treatment?

Let’s jump into another of our deep dives together by starting with the basics.

What is Men’s Addiction?

Men’s addiction defines why and how dependencies specifically affect males. Addiction in men is unique due to biology, traumas, cultural expectations, and other factors. These characteristics are confronted with gender-specific addiction treatments, such as men-only recovery programs.

Men with addictions may have compulsive habits around any number of substances, things, or activities. These habitual behaviors are difficult to give up.

In this article, we’ll be focusing on common, disruptive forms of addiction in men.

Men might have an addiction if they:

Continue behaviors despite negative consequences on social or work life.

Engage in frequent, compulsive activities for unplanned amounts of time.

Have loved ones that may define the behavior as overindulgence.

Experience notable emotional discomfort if abstaining from the behavior.

Are affected by physical illness symptoms if not engaging in the activity.

Many other indicators may lead to a man’s diagnosis of an addiction. In any case, a dependency on this level will continue to cause harm until qualified help intervenes.

Differences in Addiction for Men vs. Women

Addiction harms all genders, but there are notable differences in impacts on men.

Men’s addictions are frequently used to mask physical pain, fit in socially, or to cope with extreme mental burdens. Common issues may include pressures to be masculine or physically-rigorous job roles. These lead to triggers for addiction.

Women’s addictions can come from body composition, social pressures, and coping. Common factors include lighter bodyweight, elevated chemical response to substances. In addition, females experience higher rates of physical assault trauma.

Addiction care focuses on a blend of biology, environment, experiences, and other features. Men’s addiction treatment focuses on factors that often interact to cause addictions in males.

Men may benefit from gender-exclusive treatment if:

Feeling like being emotionally-open is a weakness.

Dealing with traumas you feel no one understands—like sexual abuse.

Your social circle increased your urge to engage in your addiction.

Co-ed treatment is still a practical choice for anyone seeking treatment. However, a fine-tuned treatment plan for a client’s gender increases chances of lasting recovery.

Men’s Addiction Care Explained

Men-specific addiction programs target gender issues that prevent recovery.

Addiction programs tend to be most effective when peers have similar challenges.

Clients might have been in co-ed treatment in the past. While viable, these spaces may make men fall into behaviors that inhibit their ability to confide their struggles.

Men-only addiction care gives you a comfortable space to open up. Many clients find it easier to embrace vulnerability and feel that their experiences are understood.

To begin, you must first submit to clinical diagnosis and treatment before you can have true recovery. Admitting the possibility of having an addiction can be very hard.

Clients may be willing to accept treatment once they learn how addictions work.

Why Men Develop Addictions

Addictions are the result of cross-interactions between a mix of:

Genetic abnormalities

Mental traumas and experiences

Environmental pressures and influences

You should be aware that addictions are not caused by weakness. Genetics, cultural beliefs, and even physical brain damage all can lead to unhealthy behaviors.

Men may be using their addiction to cope, or they may be “hardwired” to be susceptible to addictive behaviors.

Unfortunately, many men may be in denial or see themselves as in control of their condition. It is incorrect, but common, for addiction to be viewed as a “moral failing.”

This false perspective can cause the issue to go untreated and escalate. Addiction can and will send an individual into a downward spiral unless something is done.

Common Types of Men’s Addictions

Identifying the addiction is one of the earliest steps in treating the problem behavior.

Destructive habits come in many forms, but there are some dependencies that commonly lead to rehab treatment.

Common addictions affecting men include:

Substance abuse disorder (SUD) involves the overuse of a state-altering substance such as drugs or alcohol. These are a few of the more common substance addictions:

Opioids—prescription painkillers (OxyContin, Vicodin), Fentanyl, heroin

Alcohol

Marijuana

Cocaine

Methamphetamine (meth)

Dual diagnosis involves at least one addiction and mental health condition. Co-occurring disorders require diagnosis and treatment to prevent relapse.

Of course, men can be afflicted with other dependency issues. Addictions to sex, gambling, and even food can be a burden on your health and wellbeing.

With all addictions, a man’s road to recovery will have a few blockades and detours.

Problems Males Face In Addiction Treatment

Male clients have many reasons for not seeking or fully engaging in addiction care.

Common issues that disrupt or prevent male addiction treatment include:

Moments of happiness can lead to denial of addiction or beliefs that you are cured. Addiction is chronic and lifelong. With no cure, struggles always return. Addiction treatment helps you manage the condition to keep it from stealing your life.

Belief in controlling substance use can keep men from submitting fully to the guidance and support of rehab. Male bravado is reinforced from youth into adulthood in many cultures. Clients must learn to be open without feeling inferior.

Reduced engagement in treatment may come from being unwilling to express traumas or seem “weak.” This can happen often in co-ed programs. Men-only programs help, but vulnerability is still difficult to embrace for many clients.

Co-occurring disorders may be undiagnosed, which can inhibit treatment. Clients can get care for addiction and recover, but any untreated mental conditions may trigger a relapse. Dual diagnosis treatment is the best way to tackle this issue.

Even if all goes well, treatment must be continuous for the best chance at recovery.

How Men’s Addiction Is Treated In The Continuum of Care

Treatment for addiction in men involves a series of programs for each part of recovery.

The continuum of addiction care (CoC) is a connective web that networks recovery services together. A CoC helps men avoid gaps in treatment and prevents relapse.

Continuum of care programs are grouped into the following stages:

Level 0.5: early intervention services

Level 1: outpatient services

Level 2: intensive outpatient or partial hospitalization services

Level 3: residential or inpatient treatment services

Level 4: medically managed intensive inpatient treatment services

All treatment begins with diagnosis and substance detoxification if needed. You would then move through the continuum, stepping down into less intensive care.

Some men may show traits of risk factors for addiction without an official diagnosis. Level 0.5 intervention allows professionals to monitor you in case you develop a habit.

Entry into treatment depends on the severity of your condition. Level 2 and above may be advised for the safety of more unstable clients. Others may be able to do part-time treatment as a Level 1 or 2 outpatient.

Eventually, sober clients are released into full independence. However, sobriety is a lifelong process. You will still find yourself active in community support groups.

Relapse or roadblocks to progress are not uncommon, resulting in step-ups into higher levels of CoC treatment. Recovery is not a straight path, but the CoC ensures detours will not stop the journey.

Treatments Used for Men’s Addiction

Programs within the CoC may include a blend of treatment types for each client.

Detoxification is essential for any substance users. Abstinence is expected in most cases, and you may be assisted with detox medications to prevent lethal withdrawal.

Post-detox treatments commonly use therapy, peer support, and wellness services. The structure surrounding these treatments varies based on the program.

Treatments generally fall into one of these common program types:

Inpatient treatment services for clients in a hazardous condition. Hospitalization may occur to safeguard the health and safety of the client and others around them. This usually includes around-the-clock attention.

Intensive outpatient programs (IOPs) for clients who need structure to build a sober lifestyle. Clients show up to scheduled part-time treatments. But the clients live off-premises, either at home or in an outpatient residence.

Outpatient recovery homes for men who need to live away from home and receive peer support. Sober living programs distance clients from triggers as they navigate independent sobriety.

These are some common methods for treating men’s addiction:

Traditional talk therapy is the main route for mending any beliefs and thoughts feeding your addiction. CBT and DBT are among the most common types of psychotherapy for reaching sobriety.

Alternative therapies are complementary therapies, usually taken alongside more traditional programs. Methods like adventure therapy support wellness and new ways of approaching the hurdles of recovery.

Support groups like 12 Steps guide clients through treatment and into full independent sobriety. Since being sober is a lifelong commitment, these peer groups are your accountability and guidance.

These services work as a whole to carry a client through the continuum of care. Treatments may be assigned based on your unique challenges and interests.

What to Know Before Starting Men’s Only Addiction Treatment

You should be aware of a few expectations in men’s addiction care before entering treatment.

Protective care might be advised as you detox to protect your health and safety. This is usually only relevant for high-risk clients in more intensive care services.

Short-term relocation may be necessary if you are in need of hospitalization or residential care. Many clients need to step away since their home environment will make recovery difficult. Others are in no condition to recover without 24/7 attention.

Full engagement is unconditional for all program clients. Addiction recovery is a lifelong effort. It is not a solo task or a “sometimes” practice. Submitting to treatment means you are ready to learn, open up, and allow others to guide you.

Provider confidentiality may not apply in some cases. Depending on your diagnosis, you may be deemed a hazard to yourself and others. Providers may be required by law to disclose personal information about your care for your own safety.

How to Choose a Men’s Only Addiction Program

Recovery in a men’s addiction rehab program should be done in a specialized center.

Co-ed models and centers with many other focus areas may not have a refined men’s program. Staff must be practiced and highly aware of male-unique struggles.

Dedicated specialty is essential when choosing a recovery program for males. Treatment centers develop more expertise by focusing only on men. Providers get tuned into issues missed in other programs.

Prior to entering, you should check that your recovery center is truly men-only.

A dedicated men’s program may be easier to find if browsing out-of-state options.

When to Choose Out-of-State Male-Only Addiction Rehab

Men’s addiction programs may pack more benefits when out-of-state (OoS).

You might find OoS specialized care that offers:

Trigger removal to create distance from your home environment. Local friends, locations, and even your own home may reinforce your addiction.

Better engagement occurs when you have nowhere to retreat to. Leaving remote treatment is more painful than the easier route of embracing change.

Unique services can include support groups or alternative therapies exclusive to certain regions.

Caretakers of loved ones might find OoS addiction care to be an inconvenience. Check if your program has any childcare services or local care that might help.

Distance treatment does take a few weeks, which may be an obstacle to treatment for some. Any decision should be made only after deciding what is right for you.

Takeaways on Men’s Addiction

In summary, men’s addiction care offers a personalized route to better recovery.

As a quick recap, you should now know that:

Men’s addiction describes male-specific issues surrounding dependent habits.

Addiction in men and women may be different due to physical traits, cultural norms, and social problems.

Men develop addictions as a result of their biology and environment.

Males may commonly be affected by substance abuse or dual diagnosis.

Men with addictions may find it hard to overcome their social and cultural conditioning to be vulnerable.

Ultimately, men must face their unique struggles to move closer to true sobriety.

Know someone who could benefit from the facts about men's addiction? Please like and share this post with them. Or, leave your questions or comments about addiction treatment below! We’re always looking for ways to keep the conversation about recovery going. Education is one of the most powerful tools we have to fight addiction.

www.NSRofAsheville.org

www.ExtendedCareAsheville.org

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