#fiesta medellin
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milla-frenchy · 7 months ago
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And all that could have been
1k4 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist
Summary: the memories of you don’t leave Javi, reminding him of his past mistakes
Warnings: 18+ mdni. Angst, piv, creampie, mentions of SA (not by Javi), no age specified. Pics for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions. Writer chose not to use all warnings
a/n: this is for @janaispunk 1500 kisses challenge 🥳 Prompt was "last kiss/Javi p"
Thank you @toxicanonymity for the spanish translation 🖤 @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 @morallyinept for your amazing Javi character database and dialogue 🌻 @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏
The title and some sentences said by Javi are from And all that could have been by Nine inch nails
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Javi was at his apartment with Helena. She was a hooker and one of his informers, but she meant more than that. He cared about her, and they saw each other regularly at his place.
“¿Qué harás este fin de semana?” (what are you doing this weekend?), he asked her.
“Iré a Medellín” (I’m going to Medellin)
“Bueno, tendré que buscarme otra” (I guess I’ll have to find another girl)
“Buena suerte con eso. Todas nos vamos a Medellín” (good luck with that. We’re all going to Medellin)
His heart sank and worry crept into him. Sensing a very familiar feeling, which had never left him since last year.
“¿Helena? ¿De quién es esta fiesta?” (whose party is it?)
Anxiety took over him, past events playing over and over in his head. Haunting him. And he thought about what happened a year ago. What happened to you.
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You didn't plan for any of that. Neither Javi nor you did.
At first, he was a client almost like the others, except that he worked for the DEA, and bit by bit he asked you for information on the sicarios. He always treated you right, never made you feel uncomfortable. You had other clients and you weren’t the only hooker he used to fuck.
You got to know him and trust him as the weeks passed, as he also seemed to, until you realized that he was no longer fucking anyone but you. You used to see him in his apartment more and more often, and less and less at the brothel. When his cock was buried in your core and his eyes looked with yours, his gaze was different. Soft and caring.
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One night at his place he lit a cigarette and was smoking it by the window. Looking thoughtfully at the city lights as you were lying in bed, naked, admiring all of him. The muscles of his back, his shoulders, his tanned skin.
When he sat on the bed, his thigh against yours, his hand caressed your stomach which was gradually returning to normal breathing. 
“¿Por qué no paras?” (Why don’t you stop?), he asked.
It wasn't exactly jealousy or possessiveness, more of a concern. You both knew what that implied. You had always been careful not to talk about those feelings you both felt. Scared that it would complicate everything.
He used to try to make you stay at his apartment longer and longer, but of course you always had to return to the brothel. To make some money. To have sex with the men you hated and who disgusted you. Trying to make it bearable you were thinking of something else. You were thinking of Javi.
“Renuncia a tu trabajo” (quit your job),” he finally asked one day.
“No puedo, Javi” (I can’t, Javi)
The more weeks and months with Javi passed, the less you could bear to go back to the brothel. But what other choices did you have? Tears threatened to roll down your cheeks and you batted your eyelashes to try to hold them back.
“You could stay here, with me. You don’t need to go back.”
“You know I can’t. They would find me, and God knows what they would do to me.”
“I’ll protect you. You know I would never let anything happen to you.”
You hugged him as the tears fell, unable to hold them back any longer. You wanted to quit your job and stay with him, but it was impossible. They made sure to let you know what happened to the girls who tried to leave.
“Necesito sentirte dentro. Porfa, Javi.” (I need to feel you inside me, Javi. Please.)
He caressed your cheek and wiped your tears like only he knew how to do. He kissed you with his warm, luscious, caring lips. Soft and delicate. When he lay between your legs you wrapped them around his waist to feel him deeper. His nose brushed against yours, and he kissed your forehead. Your hips were leading a perfect slow dance. He rubbed himself against you in the way he was sure would make you cum. His eyes fixed on yours. The eyes of a man in love, and you started to cry again.
“Don’t cry, hermosa (beautiful). I’ll take care of you and you’ll never have to go back there. Do you trust me?”
You trusted him. With all your heart. You wiped your tears and took his cheeks in your hands.
“I do, Javi.”
He leaned towards you and kissed you, until you came on his shaft, your pussy squeezing him perfectly and making him moan, and you felt his jolts at each rope of cum, painting your walls.
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You didn't go back, he took you to a safe house. He exfiltrated you.
And for several days, you only saw Javi.
That evening you laughed and the atmosphere was as light as a summer breeze. You looked at each other smiling like teenagers, and he kissed your hands. Then he held you tight against him. You felt safe and free.
Later that night, as your hips rolled while riding him, you leaned into him and said, “dame un beso” (give me a kiss).
He caressed your cheek as your hands ran through his hair and you kissed. You needed to feel him more. Deeper. You moved away from him and got on all fours, looking over your shoulder as his hands caressed your hips. He slipped into you, in one slow, deep thrust. No one had ever brushed your walls the way he did. Without brutality, without clumsiness, without impatience, without hurting you. Just in a perfect way, like he always knew what to do. Stroking your clit when you needed it, until you came on his cock. His torso enveloped your back and he kissed your skin, before quickly thrusting in to claim you, grunting. 
You just knew that you belonged to each other, in the healthiest, most beautiful way.
In the early morning, he kissed your forehead and lightly stroked your cheek to not wake you up, and left for the office.
In the afternoon, you heard a knock on the door, and thought Javi had forgotten his keys. Your hand grabbed the handle of the white door and you opened it without taking the time to think.
It wasn't Javi.
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In the late afternoon, his colleagues told him that a hooker had been killed by sicarios. His heart sank and he almost puked, as if his gut instinctively knew who he would find there. When they lifted the sheet, he fell to his knees on the ground.
Your mutilated and bruised body lying on its back left no doubt about what you had suffered. What they had done to you.
He went back to his apartment and drank until he couldn't remember his name.
A few days later, he visited your grave and placed white flowers on it.
He thought about how he had kissed your forehead that morning. Not knowing that it would have been the last kiss he had ever given you.
“In my nothing, you meant everything to me”, he murmured.
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When the memories finally faded, he realized Helena had already left his apartment.
During the following days he had been organizing surveillance in Medellin, with Carillo and Steve. Taking photos, watching the Sicarios arriving one by one at the hotel.
Hours passed without news of Helena, and worry tightened his heart. He couldn't relive that. He was consumed with anxiety.
When he finally found her, he shot the man who was abusing her. Rushed to cover her bruised body. He failed once again, even though he arrived in time for Helena, he wasn’t able to prevent what had happened to her. 
He thought of you, not a day he had not. He thought of all that could have been.
When he visited your grave, and saw that only his last faded bouquet was there, he couldn't hold back his tears.
“I can still feel you, even so far away” he breathed. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry…”
And he chose to let his anger consume him, rather than letting the tears flow. On his knees in the cemetery, he screamed. He was clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles were white.
He would dedicate his life to bringing them all down. Even if it meant falling with them. But one thing was sure: Gacha would fall before him.
***********
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zepskies · 2 years ago
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Break Me Down - Part 9
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader
Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.
Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
Word Count: 6,800
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, peril, blood, and angst. 
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Part 9: Breach
Loco’s eyes widened as he watched the surveillance feed. 
“Coño carajo,” he cursed in Spanish. “Hey, boss.” 
Frank was just about to step out of their “office” (a dusty back room behind the library). He stopped at his subordinate’s voice and turned back, frowning when he caught sight of the large triple screens. 
A helicopter had just landed on the roof of the mansion. It had a red banner painted with “Fiesta Tours” on the side. The door slid open, and out tumbled a skinny kid who fell onto his knees and threw up on the ground. 
His blonde girlfriend came out and patiently rubbed his back. Though she rolled her eyes at something the pilot said. 
It was Billy Butcher, which meant the other three assholes jumping out of the helicopter were the rest of his team that had eluded Antonio’s men in Medellin.  
“Damn it,” Frank muttered. “How’d they get through our airspace without tripping any alarms?”
“They stole a fucking tourist trap, bro,” said Loco.
By the time he glanced up, Frank had already moved back to his desk to unlock a large safe with both a code and a fingerprint. Out of the safe came a briefcase. Loco stood from his chair and grabbed his gun.
Frank popped open the case and grabbed one of several vials. He gave one to Loco and pocketed two more before he locked the briefcase again.
“Keep them busy,” Frank said. He pressed a finger to the communicator in his ear. “Saul, we have company. Meet me upstairs, then prepare the getaway as a contingency.”
“Got it,” Saul responded. He was currently on patrol on the east side. Frank knew it would take him roughly two and a half minutes to get back.  
“Y el Capitán?” Loco asked. And the Captain?
Meaning Soldier Boy. Instead of answering him, Frank pulled out his cell on his way out of the room. Loco was on his heels. 
“What?” said Ben. As usual, he sounded annoyed at being bothered. 
“Sir, we have a breach,” Frank said. “It’s Butcher.” 
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Fuck. Ben grimaced, though he didn’t voice his displeasure. His hand tightened on the cell phone at his ear.
“Where is she?” he asked. He heard Frank give a command to check the feed. It was Loco’s voice that gave the reply.  
“In the garden,” Frank answered. 
Typical, Ben thought. The garden was your favorite place. You hadn’t told him that, but he’d caught you there often enough.
“All right, get her to the helicopter,” Ben said. “Take her to the next house. I’ll deal with Butcher and his cocksucking crew.” 
Frank resisted the urge to raise a brow, even if his boss couldn’t see it. Extracting you from the house was not the original plan. But he agreed and parted ways from Loco with a nod. 
When Saul caught up with Frank in the hall on the top of the stairs, second floor, Frank handed him a vial of V24. Both men shot up together, each taking sharp breaths at the intensity of unnatural green-hued chemicals running through their veins. 
Frank recovered first, rolling his shoulders as new awareness made his senses sharp, his blood already pounding with adrenaline. 
“The most expensive damn high I’ve ever had,” Saul remarked, smirking. 
Frank didn’t take the same pleasure in it, but he conceded that with a nod. Being able to see through walls was an advantage, at least. It just took a moment for his vision to even out and normalize.
“Get it done,” was all he said.
While Saul continued on to the roof with super speed, Frank made his way down the stairs, and through the French doors to the backyard. He found you there, sitting on the grass with a book in the garden. 
Good, he thought in approval of your jeans and V-neck top. You would be easier to transport this way. 
He called your name, and you greeted him with a smile, until you noticed his sternness.
“What’s wrong?” you asked. 
Frank pulled you up by your arm, firm but not painful. 
“We have to go,” he said. Despite your protests, he led you back inside, then up the narrow staircase that you realized would have to lead to the roof. There was nowhere else to go on the roof but up, and away. Frank was taking you away from the house. Why?
“It’s my team, isn’t it,” you said.
You stared up at Frank’s profile. His mustache often obscured his expression, but you caught the way his brows tightened, as did his hold on your arm. It felt tighter, stronger than usual, and not just because he hadn’t manhandled you in a long time. 
It raised your suspicions, but your heart was also thumping faster as you realized that your friends were here somewhere.
“Where’s Ben,” you demanded to know. A tendril of worry laced up your spine. “Where the hell are we going?”
“To a secure location,” Frank replied. But he didn’t give you more than that. You dug your heels in on the stairs and tried to work your arm out of his grip, but he was unrelenting. 
“Let me go!” you snapped. “I have to talk to them.”
“Boss’s orders,” Frank said, his jaw tightening. You could tell he didn’t want to hurt you, but he would drag your ass up the rest of these steps.
You were reduced to pleading. “Frank, please! He’s in danger.”
His eyes sharpened at that. 
“You may not believe it, but they can take him down,” you said. Desperation shone in your eyes, and you fought the conflicted nature of your emotions in what you were about to say.  
“If I’m there, maybe I can talk down both sides,” you argued. “I know you’re just following orders, but if you care about your next paycheck, you’ll fucking listen to me.”
Frank seemed to consider your words for all of three seconds. 
Then he continued to haul you up all the way to the roof. You were struggling and shouting, but you were made to go all the same. 
When the door opened to the roof, however, Frank caught a slender fist in his face, knocking him right out. You gasped as the man careened back and nearly bowled you over, but that same hand caught him by the collar and kept him from crushing you. 
You looked up and brightened with an incredulous smile.
“Kimiko!” 
The smaller woman gave you a smile and a small wave with her free hand. But before she could finish Frank off, you raised your hands against her raised fist.
“Wait! Don’t kill him,” you asked. “Just leave him here.”
Kimiko looked confused for a second, but she did as you asked and helped you let him down gently to the ground. You noticed the blood hastily wiped from her hand and face—onto her black leather jacket.  
“Where is everyone?” you asked. 
Kimiko signaled ahead, but you opened the door to the roof real quick, just to see the littered bodies of dead men on the ground. You blanched at the sight. 
You turned away from the scene and followed Kimiko, who lowered her head as she continued down the stairs. 
Despite yourself, you hoped Loco and Saul had gotten away, at least. They were your captors, but they’d never treated you badly. You’d even cooked for them, hung out with them, listened to them bicker and bitch, and watched them cheat one another at cards. They were criminals, but they weren’t monsters. 
And not wanting to see them die only scratched the surface of your conflict when you thought about Ben. 
As you and Kimiko jogged through the mansion, heading toward the sounds of fighting and yelling and destruction downstairs, your guilt began to grow. 
You knew very well what Ben had done. But the truth was, you no longer had the heart to condemn him.
To play jury and judge and executioner—interning him into an ice box until he could be neutralized, or until the end of his unnaturally long life.
To continue making him pay beyond his forty years of imprisonment. 
You’d seen the worst of him: his salaciousness, his temper, his trauma, his destructive coping mechanisms, and painfully outdated ideals. 
Yet, Ben was more than all of that. He’d allowed you to see more. 
But the moment you said any of that, you knew how he would react. Just as you knew how M.M. would look at you. And it made your chest ache and your mind spin faster than it already was. 
What the fuck am I going to do?
You got your opportunity to answer that question when a star bolt shot right in front of you and Kimiko—through the open door of a large room. 
It was big enough to be a ballroom for parties, but right now it was a battlefield between your friends, a support team of CIA officers, Loco and his team of men, and of course, Ben at the center. He was in his full Soldier Boy gear, complete with the stupid-ass helmet. 
While Hughie had clearly been made to hang out at the fringe of it all. He stood there, looking worried with a gun in his hand that he didn’t look all that comfortable with.
He noticed you and Kimiko first and called your name. You smiled and accepted the joyful hug he gave you (after he carefully tucked his gun in his pants). 
“You’re actually okay! I can’t fucking believe it,” he said. But then he quickly amended, “I mean, we all hoped you were still alive, I just mean—”
You just laughed and teasingly slapped his cheeks between your hands to stop his fumbling. “Thanks for coming to find me.”
Ben ears must’ve been perked up, because he sharply glanced over. You getting free wasn’t part of his plan, you knew, and he did not look pleased. Your amusement fading, you let go of Hughie and met Ben’s gaze across the room.
You were worried. About him. About everyone. 
“We don’t have to do this,” you told Hughie. Kimiko had already joined the fray to stop a gunman from clipping Frenchie from behind. 
Your earnest gaze met Hughie’s confused one. “He’s not what you think he is…well, not exactly, anyway.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. “He fucking kidnapped you!”
“Technically, he didn’t. It was one of his overzealous groupies,” you replied, your expression firming at the thought of Antonio. “That guy’s dead. But there are more reasons. I’ve gotta stop this somehow—”
“That’s…not a good idea,” Hughie was saying, and even tried to stop you when you took the gun from his pants. But you ignored his protests and headed right into the jungle of bullets and star bolts, and the crunch of bone and blood. 
You didn’t shoot to kill, evading and defending yourself more than fighting back. Annie noticed you with a happy smile, as did Frenchie and M.M. Butcher was busy shooting at Ben with a fucking launcher. 
But Ben avoided the massive projectile with a simple knock of his shield. It sailed through the back windows, eventually exploding into the sky. 
For a moment, there was enough of a lull in the room that you took the opportunity to open your mouth, prepared to call out to both men.
However, something else broke through the windows—from the opposite side. 
It was a dart that landed between Ben’s feet, black and flashing a small red light. He rose a brow. But before he could just kick the thing away, it detonated.
The explosion was bigger than even Ben anticipated. It blew up a huge crater in the ground, knocking him and everyone else surrounding several feet away. 
Even you were tossed back. Your gun clattered away from you as you landed painfully on the ground, most likely onto a dead body. You blinked the haziness out of your vision as you struggled to recover, to pull yourself up. 
“What the fuck?” you heard Ben utter. 
When you turned your head, you couldn’t help echoing his statement. 
Black Noir was standing just before the large crater, the one he’d apparently created.
He’s dead, you thought dizzily. Or at least, he was supposed to be. Homelander killed him six months ago. 
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Seriously, what the fuck. Ben was bewildered, to say the least. He’d been told that his unfortunate spawn had offed Noir, but yet here he was, the little shit. 
“Fucking Noir,” Ben said with a laugh, after he’d stood and made a show of rolling his neck. “What frosted hole did you crawl out of?”
The supe didn’t respond. Didn’t even move a muscle from where he stood in the center of the room. And the rest had gone quiet by now, waiting and watching as two predators approached one another.
“I heard you became a fucking mute,” said Ben. He smirked at the crater in his floor. “You’ve figured out how to make an entrance, I’ll give you that. But we both know you’re not up to this. You could never even shine my fucking shoes.”
Ben tossed the first punch. He expected the way Noir deflected, but not the force behind his blow, which pounded below Ben’s ribs and forced a grunt out of him. He actually felt it.
Along with subsequent punches Noir got in before Ben finally remembered to raise his shield and get back on the offensive. But now he was annoyed. Noir was never this strong, not even on his best day. What kind of bullshit does Vought got him hopped up on? More V?
And then, a solid punch to his face had Ben stumbling back. He caught his smarting jaw with no small amount of irritation, and he wiped at his nose. 
It came away bloody. Ben stared at it in disbelief, and then, in anger. Back from the dead or not, he was going to put Noir back in the fucking ground today. 
His blood burned hot. So much that he realized, belatedly, that his chest was starting to get that nuclear glow. 
Good, he thought. He’d blow a third hole through this cocksucker, and whoever else got in his way. 
“Ben!” 
Your voice cut through the whirring in his ears as he grappled with Black Noir, just loud enough for Ben to notice you. You weren’t far from your friends, but he realized then how close to danger you were. 
He was impossibly hot now, and still fighting hand-to-hand with Noir. His jaw locked as he tried to focus on the fight and figure out what to do. It was getting harder and harder to focus—on Noir, on the power growing inside him, on your worried face. 
Shit, wait—
And he lost control. 
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It was all of seconds. 
Annie was just ahead of you, closer to the blast zone. So in those last precious moments, you made a decision: you pushed Annie out of the way.
Then your feet were once again swept from under you, and you flew back even harder than the first time. You blacked out before you had the chance to feel any pain.
That came later, the next time you opened your eyes.
When your vision was able to clear of the mess of colors and shapes, sharpening into focus, you saw Frank as he pulled you out of the rubble. But it was at your expense, as a sharp flare of pain erupted in your side. 
You didn’t recognize the sound of your own voice, a strangled groan. In the distance, maybe you heard Annie’s voice. Or even M.M.’s, you couldn’t be sure. You flashed in and out of consciousness after that. 
The next scene you truly remembered was being laid down on the floor of a helicopter. A backpack was tucked under your head. The engine was loud, rearing to go. Frank was shouting to someone, whoever the pilot was (you hoped it wasn’t Loco). 
“She needs more than a medic,” you heard Frank say. For a man who was usually so stoic, you thought you heard grave worry in his voice. 
You managed to look down, and you frowned at the long piece of wood protruding from your side. It wept blood beneath your ribs.
Your light green shirt was slowly getting stained, but your mind was so fuzzy, it was hard for you to understand what was happening.
“Let’s go!” Loco shouted. 
Oh, no, you thought. He was going to fly this thing.
“We can’t take off yet,” said Saul. “Where’s—”
A soot-stained hand grabbed onto the frame of the helicopter’s open door. You recognized that hand, followed shortly by the rest of Ben. His helmet was off, shield tucked onto his back. He looked pissed.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he snapped. His frown deepened the moment he saw you, which you didn’t quite understand.
“Ben,” you said, even though it was an effort to do so.
Every breath was like a hot knife cutting deeper into your side. Your eyes closed at the pain, and at tears that burned down your cheeks. It also cut through the brain fog enough for you to realize this was bad.
It was very bad. 
A splintered chair leg had impaled your body. 
“Get a vial,” you heard him say. 
What? You struggled to open your eyes again. Ben was there, looking down on you with a different kind of frown, and something deeper in his green eyes. His sweaty hair fell over his brows, and you had a sudden itch to brush the strands aside. 
You were pacified a little when his half-gloved hand came to rest on your head, over your hair. His thumb traced over your brow. 
“Hurry the fuck up, Frank,” he said, briefly glaring over your head. Frank soon appeared at your side. He held a green vial in his hands, tinged with blue. Your eyes widened. 
“What…”
“That needs to come out first.” Frank nodded at something you couldn’t see. You didn’t have the strength to look down anymore. You knew this was it, though.
You were going to die.
Ben’s hand braced your shoulder. His eyes met yours. 
You didn’t understand the thoughts crossing through them, or his hesitation. But you did feel it when he grabbed the large wood splinter and slowly pulled it from your body. Your scream sounded almost inhuman to your own ears. 
At least the pain was enough to knock you out once again.
Ben had no such reprieve as he looked down at the gaping hole in your side. Scarlet blood ran and pooled by his knees, even slipped through his fingers and around his hand when he tried to clamp down on the wound. 
“Fucking do it already,” he said through gritted teeth. 
With a short nod, Frank injected V24 into your arm. 
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You healed in minutes. 
Breath drew into your lungs—a reflex as chemicals flooded through your blood and knit your organs, muscle, and skin tissue closed, even regenerating the blood you had lost. And it felt like a switch had turned on in your brain, set to “high voltage.”
You sat up as a ragged sound erupted from your throat. A hand closed on your shoulder, and you instinctively fought it off. 
“Hey. Easy,” said Ben.
Your breathing was shallow as you met his eyes, focused on his face. You noticed Frank on your other side, poised to support you if you needed it. You looked down and noticed your blood-soaked shirt, the blood on the floor of the aircraft, and the empty syringe in Frank’s hand. 
“You shot me up,” you realized. Your voice shook, but anger drew your brows together before you whipped your head back to Ben. “You shot me up with V24!”
He stared back at you, his expression tightening. “I saved you.”
“And you kidnapped me. Again!” you shouted. 
“You were hurt, and I saved your fucking life! Again,” Ben countered, gesturing at you with his blood-stained hand. But you glared at him.
“You are the reason I needed saving,” you snapped. 
At that, Ben glared right back at you…but he stayed quiet. 
Good. You huffed and turned away from him. You folded your knees up to your chest and rested your forehead against your knees. 
You had nothing else to say to him. 
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You ignored Frank’s helping hand when the helicopter finally landed at the next house—this time on the gravel driveway.
This place was at the top of a hill on the outskirts of a thick jungle. Once you were led inside, you could tell this house was smaller, though just as lavish as the last one.
Ben seemed too exasperated with you to follow you, instead going his own way to find his room upstairs. Frank led you to a guest room downstairs, where he informed you that he’d find you some new clothes. You were dismissive with him, and he left you alone soon after.  
Part of you felt bad for giving him a hard time. You knew he had saved you after the explosion. He’d likely gone out of his way to find you and pull you out of the rubble, but you couldn’t help it.
You were still salty about his part in your re-capture. Not to mention the fact that he’d given you temporary Compound V against your will. 
And speaking of which…
You sat on your new bed and looked down at your arms and hands, clenching and unclenching your fists. What mystery power had V24 given you?
As basic as it was, you felt…strong. Like you could run a marathon without stopping. Like you could punch straight through that wall, and not even feel it. You felt more than just confidence coursing through your veins, like no one and nothing could stand in your way.
Was this how Ben felt all the time? If so, you could almost understand why he could be such an asshole. 
But you also thought of how he’d been with you for the past couple of weeks; how much he’d shared with you about his parents, about his life before becoming Soldier Boy. And yes, how he’d saved you more than once. 
It just didn’t change the fact that he took you—away from your friends, and your chance at freedom. 
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True to his word, Frank delivered a bag of clothes to your door about two hours after he’d left you in your new room.
You opened the door just enough to snatch the bag out of his hand, before closing the door in his face. You heard his tired huff on the other side, but soon enough, he walked away from your door. 
So you took your time in the shower, scrubbing grime and blood out of your hair, off your skin and from under your nails. Then you dressed in a shirt and some yoga pants from the bag Frank gave you.
And you tried not to miss the house in the mountains while you wandered this one. You opened every door you came across, finding more guest rooms, a laundry room, the kitchen.
But you stopped once you reached the gym, complete with an elliptical, a couple of treadmills, hand weights, a sparring mat, and a large punching bag.  
Venturing inside, you found some sports tape to wrap up your hands. Then you wandered over to the punching bag. With a resigned sigh, you aligned your hips correctly, bending your knees with your fists raised up to your chest. And then, steeling yourself, you tested out your strength with a single punch. 
It sent the punching bag flying on its chain and hitting the wall. A loud thump echoed through the room, even making you flinch. 
Yep. Definitely got super strength, you thought with a frown. Basic, but useful, you supposed. 
“Whoa,” Ben said with a chuckle. You turned your head and found the man leaning casually in the doorway. He was out of his uniform, freshly washed, and wearing a plain black shirt and dark wash jeans. It was a more modern look for him. You couldn’t help eyeing him from head to toe.
His sharpening grin told you that he noticed.
“At least you got something good,” he remarked. 
“Leave me alone,” you groused. You threw another punch. This one tossed the bag hard and created a massive indent and several hairline cracks in the wall. 
Feeling a suspect prickle across the back of your neck, you twisted and aimed your next punch behind you. Ben caught your fist with an amused grin. You found it damn infuriating. 
So you tossed out a left hook. He evaded it with a tilt of his head, but when he pushed you back, you actually felt his strength behind it. It only forced you a couple of steps back though. 
Ben baited you with a beckoning hand and a cocky smirk. “Take your best shot, sweetheart.” 
You narrowed your eyes. If nothing else, you were going to wipe that smirk off his bearded face. 
He let you come at him first, blocking your first and second blow before throwing a punch of his own. You grabbed his wrist and put all your strength in cracking your elbow into his face, making his head snap back with a grunt. 
Ben’s hand went to his nose, and actually came away bloody. He hummed, and his gaze flicked up at you. It was your turn to smirk. You got back into your ready stance and tilted your head at him in challenge. 
Ben chuckled and rolled his neck. “All right, baby doll. I’ll give you that one.”
“You don’t have to give me anything,” you retorted.
You ducked his attempt to grab you and drove a knee into his gut. Then you stepped between his feet, breaking his stance and his balance by flipping him over your shoulder. You just didn’t expect him to drag you down with him.   
The two of you tussled across the ground, rolling off the sparring mat and onto the hard wood floor. Ben managed to pin you down for a moment, but apparently, you’d been endowed with superior flexibility as well. You grabbed his neck and kneed him in the ribs with all the force you could muster. 
Ben uttered an annoyed grunt. He flinched and unwittingly allowed you the opening you needed to wrap your thighs around his hips and flip you both over—until you were the one pinning him down. 
You knew he wasn’t trying his hardest, however. He was trying to subdue you, not fight you for real, or he would’ve thrown you off by now. He was going easy on you, and it made you irrationally angry.
So you slapped him. Ben blinked and looked up at you, incredulous. 
“Oh, you better be fucking careful—” 
You cut him off with another slap. “Fight me!” 
Ben grabbed your wrist before you could slap him again. His green eyes glittered dangerously, but you stared down at him, unafraid.
Both of you were breathing hard. You were straddling his waist, your free hand braced on the floor by his head. A line of sweat rolled down from your cheek to your neck. His eyes followed the path of it down your shirt.
By the time his hot gaze snapped up to yours, you knew you were in trouble. And there would be no escape. 
Ben hooked a hand on the back of your neck and crashed your lips against his. You slapped a hand against the floor, but you didn’t pull away. You did demand from him in turn, forcing your tongue into his mouth and grabbing at his hair. 
Ben wrenched up your shirt, and you helped him raise it over your head, followed by his shirt and belt. He sat up enough to drag your yoga pants down your thighs, while you broke open the button and zipper of his jeans. 
His lips attached themselves to your neck, sucking and biting until you cried out in his ear. You gripped his hair tight when his thick fingers found their way between your folds and slipped inside you.
Your sighs turned into moans of pleasure as his fingers worked you over, gathering your wetness and rolling over your clit roughly. 
“Ah, shit,” you uttered. All you heard from him were his sharp breaths as he concentrated. 
You instinctively squeezed his hips tight between your thighs. You knew he could get you off just like this, but you were too impatient. You stopped his hand and pushed him down, and with your newfound superhuman strength, you were actually able to do it. 
His back hit the ground with a thud, and he smirked up at you, letting you tug his jeans and boxer briefs down. 
You didn’t stop until his cock was freed, and once you positioned yourself, you sunk down, burying him into your wet heat. Both of you groaned in relief, and your inner walls tightened around him on reflex.
Ben’s grip on your hips became crushing. Had you been normal, it would’ve broken your bones. “Fuck. Gonna take me for a ride, baby girl?” 
“Hell, yeah,” you said, panting for breath. “Buckle the fuck up.”
You were surprised that he was letting you stay on top, but his eyes were alight with desire. You braced your hands on his shoulders and began, rolling your hips at a slow, deep, almost torturous pace. Ben’s head snapped against the floor in frustration, his eyes closing.
“Christ. If you don’t fucking move, I’m gonna do it for you—”
You snapped your hips hard, cutting him off from his words with a guttural sound. Your own release was building. You could taste it, but you could also admit, while pleasant, this pace wasn’t going to cut it. Bracing a hand on his chest, you increased the tempo of your rolling hips. 
Ben’s hands reached up to palm your breasts over your bra, then forcibly freed them without taking it off. You gave a pleased sound when he roughly squeezed and rolled his thumbs over pert nipples. Your hands wandered down his chest, over his arms, whatever you could reach. 
Then Ben’s jaw clenched, and he sat up with you in his lap. You felt his body tensing beneath you. With little warning, he spilled hot inside you. You gasped at the feeling of him, then at his insistent fingers above your entrance, roughly rubbing at your clit. Soon enough, you came along with him.
Gasping for breath, you clung to his shoulders. Both of you were dewy with sweat. Your bra was tucked up all the way into your shoulders, and neither of you had been able to completely slip out of your pants. His hair was wild, as was yours, you were sure. 
Ben’s hands pressed against your lower back, and his cock was still bottomed out inside you. But all you could do was hold onto him.
“See?” Ben said. His voice was deep and full of grit in your ear. “Isn’t it better this way?” 
Your brows furrowed, and you pulled away enough to see his face. 
“You…you prefer me as a supe, don’t you?” you said. Ben’s mouth closed, but he rose a brow as if to say, why not?
You finally noticed the deep cracks in the wall, the small craters in the floor under your knees, and by Ben’s head. There was still a bit of blood congealed around his nose from when you’d hit him.
“This isn’t me,” you said, though you hated how your voice shook. Emotion burned in your eyes, threatening to create tears.
You let go of his shoulders and slid off of him, pulling on your yoga pants and tugging down your bra. Ben watched you from his seat on the floor, with a tensing of his jaw and knitted brows. 
“I don’t know if you just like playing with me, or if you actually care about me,” you said, scooping up your shirt. Your eyes met his with an angry glare. 
“But if you ever give me Compound V against my will again, I’ll never forgive you.”
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Butcher stared into his fifth of whiskey, already anticipating his second. If nothing else, Soldier Boy kept a well-stocked liquor cabinet. 
While the CIA combed through the half-ruined mansion, Butcher sat in the kitchen while Hughie and Annie’s arguing grated on his ears.
“She fucking took my gun, had this crazy look in her eye, like she was gonna talk Soldier Boy down. By herself,” said Hughie. “But her exact words were, he’s not what you think he is.”
“She saved me,” Annie said. “She wouldn’t just go with him.”
“She went willingly,” said Butcher. “Ain’t no other reason why she’s alive.”
“Nah, man,” M.M. said. He shook his head, then rested it on a thoughtful fist. “I saw it. One of his guys pulled her out after the blast. He took her.”
“But for what? Why would they want to keep her?” Annie said incredulously. 
“You think, maybe…Soldier Boy likes her?” Hughie asked.     
Butcher considered that with a dark chuckle, then a long sip of his whiskey. 
“We can work with that,” he said. “O’ course, now we got Black-fucking-Noir to deal with as well. Question is: was he after us, or Soldier Boy?”
Trust M.M. to address the elephant in the room. 
“And how the hell is that motherfucker alive?” he added.
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Ben was contemplating that very same question. He sat at an old mahogany table in a stuffy old room, while his men argued in front of him. 
“He had regenerative abilities,” Saul reasoned. “Vought probably got him to a hospital after Homelander left him for dead.”
“No way, man. I heard his fucking intestines were hanging out of his stomach like a goddamn fish,” said Loco. 
“Maybe it wasn’t him,” Frank suggested. 
“No,” Ben said. He had his chin propped on his fist. “It wasn’t him. Not the real Noir.”
He didn’t know how he knew, but it was a gut feeling. Whoever that had been behind that black mask, he was strong. As strong as Homelander had been, which made Ben’s gears turn on the possibilities… 
“Saul.” Ben looked up at his subordinate. “Assemble a team. You’re going back to the States for some reconnaissance. I want to know exactly what the fuck Vought did, and what else they’ve got in their fucking arsenal. If Stan Edgar’s after me, then he’s gonna get it up the ass.”
He should’ve never let that little weasel get even an inch of a hold back into him. Now Stan thought he was going to double cross him? Again? 
Yeah, fucking right. The thought stirred the rage in Ben’s blood…but he forced it down to a low simmer. This time, he would be smarter about this. 
Stan had a bad habit of playing God. Ben wanted to know how he did it this time…though that same gut was telling him that he already knew.
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No matter how you tossed and turned, the chemicals of V24 still coursing through your blood wouldn’t allow you to sleep. 
After another fruitless hour, you turned onto your side. This time, you had a room with an old-fashioned alarm clock on the nightstand. It read close to two in the morning. 
You huffed and dragged yourself out of bed, but you didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas before you slipped on your sneakers and left the confines of your room. 
You still weren’t being watched, but you knew better than to try and escape either. You noted the newly installed surveillance cameras in every hallway and every room. 
You wandered a bit aimlessly, but somehow, your feet took you down to the kitchen. There you found Ben, sitting at the kitchen table with his third beer. To be fair, you were sure it was like water to him. 
He looked up at you when you came in, making you stop short. You weren’t sure where you stood with him after today. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to be in his presence.  
But when he gestured to the empty seat in front of him, you found yourself grabbing a beer from the fridge and joining him at the table. 
“Can’t sleep?” you asked. It wasn’t the first time, and Ben was just as evasive. His eyes roamed your face before they returned to his beer. 
Regardless, you suspected what his answer might’ve been if he were honest. Because that moment—calling his name, seeing that nuclear light, pushing Annie out of the way, being pulled back into the world by searing pain in your side—it was keeping you up too.
“What do you feel when your chest lights up?” you asked. Maybe it was too bold of you, but right now, you felt confident enough in your super strength to test him.
Ben’s gaze found yours dryly. 
“Hot,” he replied. 
“Well, yeah. You’re pretty much radioactive,” you quipped. “I’ll be surprised if I don’t have fucking cancer yet.” 
He frowned at you in annoyance while you sipped at your beer. 
You hummed, tapping your nails on the glass in contemplation. “Maybe Vought could help you neutralize it. Even I can admit, they have some of the best scientists in the world on their payroll.”
“I wouldn’t let Vought handle a cup of my fucking piss, let alone poking and prodding and studying my fucking blood,” Ben snapped. He wouldn’t be anyone’s fucking lab rat. Not again.
“Like an experimental drug, for example. Given to you against your will,” you wryly supplied. But your voice was edged with agitation.
Ben’s face tightened into a glare. “If you wanna say something, fucking say it.”
You could later admit, you lost your temper then. You shoved away from the table, too angry to even take your beer with you.
“You know, you still haven’t even apologized!” you said. But before you could leave, Ben’s chair scraped across the ground as he stood and grabbed your wrist. He tugged you back to face him, and he stood looming over you with a steely frown.
“You want a fucking apology for saving your miserable life?” he asked. 
“If I’m miserable, it’s only because of you,” you spat. 
Ben scoffed, though his grip on your wrist tightened. “We both know that’s a lie.” 
You just stared up at his face and spewed words you knew you didn’t mean.
“You don’t know anything about me, Ben.” 
His body was wound tight, his frown tight and almost sneering. You were furious—at his smugness, at your inability to completely hate him. But you both faltered once your eyes met his. 
When his lips once again crashed against yours, you opened your mouth to him, pulling him down to you by his shirt.
Ben dragged you flush against him, first by your hips, then by your hair. He forced your head back so he could deepen the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours. 
His fingers then pressed their claiming marks into your side, in the same spot where you were stabbed this morning. Where you had only been healed with the chemicals still coursing through your veins. 
That thought alone cut through the intoxication of his kiss, and made you remember yourself.
You pushed hard against his chest. You were still strong enough to force him back a step or two. Ben stared back at you in irritation. 
“What’s your fucking problem?” he shouted. “Would you rather I’d let you bleed out on the fucking floor?”
“I know! I know I would be dead,” you said, matching his volume.  
No matter how you felt about Compound V, there was no doubt, he’d saved your life. 
But what you’d said to him then still stood. 
“If you hadn’t tried to waste Black Noir with a power you can’t control, then I wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. That’s the definition of collateral damage,” you said. 
Ben crossed his arms defensively. 
“You’re the one who jumped in front of the bullet like a goddamn moron,” he said. “Ain’t my fucking fault if you get yourself killed.”
And just like that, your anger faded…into dismay.
He might very well care about you, but in many ways, he was still an asshole. And you were exhausted.
“Fine, Ben.” You blinked past the well of tears burning in your eyes, but your refused to let them fall. 
After you turned away from him, you didn’t see how his face fell, with both disappointment and guilt breaking through his anger. Your next words would sear into his mind for days to come. 
“Just leave me the hell alone.”
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AN: 🤭 Please don't hate me! loll They'll get back on track soon enough...
Next Time:
“Why are you trusting me with this?” you asked. 
Ben’s lips quirked wryly, but there was little humor in it. His hand, half-covered by his glove, reached up to brush your chin. 
“I’m not,” he replied. “I expect you’ll jump at the chance to get back with Butcher and your asshole friends. But either way, I’m gonna find out if you were worth it.” 
Keep Reading: PART 10
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List:
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort
@xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @waters-2567 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow
@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2 @spnfamily-j2 @redqueenoffalconcrest
@im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @beautiful-life-coded @tearsfortheyouth @theonlymaninthesky @sleepyqueerenergy @agalliasi @skyesthebomb @chriszgirl92
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ivanreycristo · 2 years ago
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Danny DANIEL dijo en 2013 cuando dio su 1er concierto en AVILES [donde se fue la Topo Mexicana ROCIO MEDELLIN BLANCO con su novio_marido JAVIER VIÑA y q visite en 2020 como su cementerio de LA CARRIONA donde está la TUMBA MAS BONITA DE ESPAÑA O de LA MARQUESA DE SAN JUAN DE "NIEVA" y JUSTO al salir FOTOGRAFIE una VALLA PUBLICITARIA con QUE ES LA VERDAD? YO SOY LA VERDAD, EL CAMINO Y LA VIDA.. tras llegar el día anterior a OVIEDO parando directamente en plaza de la GESTA junto al auditorio PRINCIPE FELIPE donde comi cuando a mi madre le daba el ICTUS no siendo RESCATADA hasta 2 días después que subí al CRISTO DEL NARANCO y encontrándome la Estatua de malogrado cantante TINO CASAL q se mató en accidente yendo a un AFTER_HOURS O DE FIESTA siendo su último cd HISTERIA y volviendo tras CUARENTENA el ciclismo profesional con un ACCIDENTE BRUTAL contra las VALLAS de CARREFOUR=ENCRUCIJADA..en la LINEA DE META en la VUELTA A POLONIA]..donde jugo al FUTBOL en el REAL AVILES q fue VICTIMA DE TERRORISMO POLITICO x un tal Daniel QUIROS del Partido Popular que dijo que no tenía categoría para representar la CIUDAD y que iba a escribir a MARIANO RAJOY jaja
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realcollectors · 1 month ago
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Feliz navidad y felices fiestas les deseamos desde #RealCollectors @jhonyverasocialme @Fredy Romero Ph.D y el club #BadBatch #Medellín #Medellin #SomosRealCollectors #RealCollector #WeAreRealCollectors
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las-noticias-de-mai · 1 month ago
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Por déficit de gas, usuarios del interior del país tendrán alzas en enero
Según Naturgás, el país pasará una Navidad comprando en el día a día, situación que se extenderá hasta que la Creg haga ajustes a la regulación.
La compleja situación que vive el suministro de gas natural del país, como producto de un déficit estimado a la fecha en 7,2% de la demanda del mercado esencial (hogares, comercios y vehículos, principalmente) llevará a que luego de las fiestas de fin de a��o los usuarios del interior del país, en ciudades como Bogotá, Medellín, Cali y las del sur, deban asumir un mayor costo en sus recibos
Lo anterior, según la Asociación Colombiana de Gas Natural (Naturgás), obedecerá a que el país pasó a importar parte de este energético de forma mensual, situación en la que el costo es mayor que si se negocia a tres años, lo cual en este momento no es posible mientras se materializa la reglamentación, por parte de la Comisión de Regulación de Energía y Gas (Creg), que salió la semana pasada.
Según Luz Stella Murgas, presidenta de la agremiación, un análisis realizado arrojó que, en promedio, si los faltantes de gas natural se llenan en un 50% con gas importado y 50% con gas local, el aumento de esa proporción que se compra para suplir la demanda podría estar en el 25% para los mercados del interior del país, mientras que si ese vacío se llenara en su totalidad con gas importado, el incremento podría llegar al 35%.
“Ese incremento va a corresponder a las cantidades de gas importado. Por ejemplo, para abastecer el mercado de Bogotá, se usa gas de diferentes fuentes y el incremento de la tarifa de ese promedio nacional será en proporción a las cantidades que se sumen para abastecer ese mercado específico", explicó Murgas al hacer un balance del año en materia de gas.
Alto costo de no explorar
Esto dependerá del mercado en el que se encuentre el mercado, toda vez que esta semana se conocieron noticias de aumentos en el precio del gas vehicular para Medellín y esta semana en los Llanos.
Como se recuerda, hace unas semanas, para el mes de diciembre, se comenzó a importar gas por primera vez en 45 años para el mercado esencial, proceso en el que la firma TPL hizo una oferta de 34 millones de pies cúbicos día, que equivalen al 3,4% de la demanda nacional, y sobre esa proporción es que aplicará el aumento para el mercado que se supla con gas comprado en el exterior.
Mientras que hace unos días el gobierno, a través del ministro de Minas y Energía, Andrés Camacho, sostuvo que se iniciarían investigaciones por haber preferido comprar gas importado sobre el nacional, Murgas recalcó que los hechos demostraron que en el proceso de oferta del energético el 28 de noviembre Ecopetrol canceló un segundo proceso por los problemas en la planta de Gibraltar, y abrió un tercer proceso de 14 millones de pies cúbicos solo por una semana, hasta el primero de diciembre.
Posteriormente, el pasado 10 de diciembre, Ecopetrol abrió otro proceso por 30 millones de pies cúbicos entre el 10 y el 31 de diciembre y así termino cubrirse la demanda del mes de diciembre, pero para enero se repetirá un proceso similar según disponibilidad.
Para diciembre, el faltante se cubrió en un 4% con gas importado, 3,4% de Ecopetrol por optimización de consumo y el faltante se completó mediante con contratos de firmeza condicionada.
“Pasamos a comprar el huevo día a día, en lugar de comprar la cubeta para todo el mes”, aseguró Murgas al comparar la situación de abastecimiento de gas con los insumos del desayuno de un hogar, y al precisar que el mercado de la región Caribe del país no tiene estos problemas de déficit.
subirá el Gas domiciliario en enero
#villavicencio #colombia #politicos #pati #flypシ #parati #noticiasdelmundo🌍 #news #medellin #las_noticias_de_mai #bogota #cali #nosmienten
https://t.me/LAS_NOTICIAS_DE_MAI
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acompanantescolombiablog · 2 months ago
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Las Damas de Compañía en Colombia: Un Servicio Exclusivo y Diversificado
En Colombia, la figura de las damas de compañía ha ganado popularidad en los últimos años, ofreciendo una variedad de servicios personalizados para quienes buscan acompañamiento en diferentes contextos. Ciudades como Medellín, Bogotá y Cartagena se han destacado por ser centros importantes de este tipo de servicios, con agencias especializadas que brindan una experiencia única a sus clientes. En este artículo, exploraremos cómo funciona el mundo de los acompañantes en varias ciudades colombianas y qué distingue a este servicio de otros.
¿Qué son las Damas de Compañía?
Las damas de compañía son profesionales que brindan acompañamiento social, emocional y, en algunos casos, físico a personas que buscan una presencia femenina en diversos entornos. El servicio puede ser contratado por un evento especial, como una cena, una fiesta o incluso para momentos de soledad o distracción. Las damas de compañía 24 horas ofrecen flexibilidad para aquellos que desean compañía durante cualquier momento del día o la noche.
El servicio de acompañantes medellines especialmente solicitado por aquellos que viajan por trabajo o negocios y desean una experiencia de acompañamiento elegante y discreta. Las agencias de damas de compañía ofrecen una variedad de opciones para ajustarse a los gustos y preferencias de los clientes. Este fenómeno no se limita a Medellín, sino que se extiende a otras ciudades colombianas como Bogotá y Cartagena, donde la demanda también ha crecido significativamente.
Acompañantes Universitarias: La Elegancia Joven
En varias ciudades, especialmente en Medellín, se han popularizado las acompañantes universitarias, un segmento que atrae a personas que buscan un tipo de compañía más joven y dinámica. Las jóvenes universitarias, por lo general, combinan belleza, inteligencia y frescura, lo que les permite ofrecer una experiencia única para aquellos que buscan conversación, diversión o una conexión más cercana en eventos sociales. Las agencias que se especializan en este tipo de acompañantes aseguran que sus profesionales están bien preparadas para cumplir con las expectativas de sus clientes, ya sea en cenas formales o en reuniones más informales.
Este servicio también es muy popular entre los turistas que visitan Medellín, ya que les permite conocer más sobre la cultura local mientras disfrutan de una compañía sofisticada. Las acompañantes universitarias son, por lo tanto, una de las opciones más solicitadas por quienes buscan una experiencia exclusiva durante su estancia en la ciudad.
Las Damas de Compañía en Bogotá y Cartagena
En la capital del país, Bogotá, las damas de compañía ofrecen un nivel de sofisticación y profesionalismo que atrae tanto a locales como a turistas internacionales. Bogotá es una ciudad cosmopolita, con una vibrante vida nocturna y una amplia oferta de eventos, lo que hace que los servicios de acompañantes sean populares entre quienes visitan la ciudad por negocios o placer. Las damas de compañía Bogotá son conocidas por su elegancia, inteligencia y capacidad para adaptarse a cualquier tipo de ocasión.
Por otro lado, en Cartagena, una ciudad turística por excelencia, las damas de compañía ofrecen un servicio que se adapta a la atmósfera cálida y relajada del lugar. Los visitantes que se hospedan en resorts de lujo o que participan en eventos exclusivos en la ciudad a menudo optan por acompañantes que no solo ofrezcan belleza, sino también una excelente conversación y una presencia encantadora que complemente la experiencia vacacional.
La Agencia de Damas de Compañía: Discreción y Exclusividad
Las agencias de damas de compañía en Colombia juegan un papel crucial en garantizar que el servicio sea discreto, seguro y de calidad. Estas agencias seleccionan cuidadosamente a sus profesionales para asegurar que cumplan con los estándares de comportamiento, educación y estética que esperan los clientes. Además, la confianza y la privacidad son aspectos fundamentales que todas las agencias promueven para ofrecer un servicio de alto nivel.
En ciudades como Medellín, Bogotá y Cartagena, las agencias de damas de compañía Colombia se encargan de conectar a los clientes con las acompañantes adecuadas según sus necesidades específicas. Ya sea para una reunión de negocios, una fiesta privada o una experiencia más íntima, estos servicios están diseñados para garantizar una experiencia personalizada y sin complicaciones.
Conclusión
Las damas de compañía en Colombia representan una industria que, si bien sigue siendo un tema tabú para algunos, se ha consolidado como un servicio que brinda confort, exclusividad y distinción. Las ciudades de Medellín, Bogotá y Cartagena se han convertido en epicentros de esta industria, ofreciendo opciones para todos los gustos, desde acompañantes universitarias hasta servicios de damas de compañía 24 horas. Ya sea que se busque una compañera para una ocasión especial o alguien con quien compartir un momento de relax, las damas de compañía Colombia se han establecido como una opción viable y de calidad para quienes buscan una experiencia memorable.
Para obtener más información, visite aquí: - damas de compañia colombia
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uniquetyphoonmiracle · 4 months ago
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Para Mi..lo que hicieron conmigo..A CRISTO REY.. con la MEXICANA ROCIO MEDELLIN BLANCO..MERECE MEXICO TERREMOTOS ..A mi si que me tiene MEXICO QUE PEDIR PERDON..POR SOPORTAR ESTA CONSPIRACION SATANICA Y COMERSE LO DE LOS MANA Y LETIZIA ORTIZ..
..así que os dedico la revista EMINENTE del hotel FIESTA AMERICANA en paseo REFORMA frente a donde estaba la Estatua de COLON que creo que hicieron mal en quitarla porque el no conquistó MEXICO solo descubrió un CONTINENTE
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solariumsunlife · 9 months ago
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¡Aprovecha esta oportunidad única para maximizar tu bronceado y lucir espectacular todo el año! Nuestro bono de bronceado EXPERTO te brinda acceso a todo un año en nuestras modernas cabinas de bronceado, junto con una loción aceleradora de regalo para potenciar tus resultados.
📅 ¡Visítanos hoy mismo para adquirir tu bono de bronceado EXPERTO y reclamar tu loción aceleradora GRATIS! 📅
¡No pierdas esta oportunidad de lucir un bronceado espectacular y radiante! ¡Te esperamos en Solárium SunLife
#bronceador #o #bikini #sol #verano #tan #bronceado #medellin #pielcanela #bronceo #cali #playa #vestidodeba #swimwear #maquillaje #exfoliante #makeup #asoleadores #fit #body #beachwear #tanlinesfordays #sunday #nike #brownielineadesol #morenitas #nico #techno #fiesta #reels
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crissgeithner · 1 year ago
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Hoy 25 Octubre 1030pm Fiesta en “La Chula” Palmas Medellin. Premios Icono 2023. Celebración. Te esperamos! ✨ #AuraCristinaGeithner #show #premiosicono #2023 #medellin #colombia #mexico #usa #venezuela #españa #ecuador
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ivanreydereyes · 1 year ago
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Camiseta de MAZATLAN [donde corri mi última MARATON el 1_12_2002 x cosas del DESTINO como fue q me dieran una revista en la 1/2 MARATON de EL PARDO donde se anunciaba como HERMANADA a la de MADRID y haber estado 6 horas antes en una FIESTA en la casa de la MEXICANA ROCIO MEDELLIN en calle SOR ANGELA DE LA CRUZ tras salir de ver la obra satírica sobre el 11 $ de NEOYORKINO LEO BASI titulada 12 de SEPTIEMBRE q acabo en la calle..y xq tras Correrla y cuando iba a correr la VIRGIN MONEY MARATHON de LONDRES o como se llamaba cuando la vi DOMINGO DE RAMOS 2011 desde la ESTATUA de la REINA VICTORIA frente palacio de BUCKHINGHAM y encontré la casa de KYLIE MINOGUE en Drayton Gardens..me dieron x detras en una RETENCION a la Altura de la TERMINAL IV en CONSTRUCCION viendo x el ESPEJO como no le iba a dar TIEMPO a FRENAR y tuve q ir a REHABILITACION a IBERMUTUAMUR frente a polideportivo SAN JUAN BAUTISTA y junto a UNIVERSAL MUSIC SPAIN cuyo presidente SIMONE BOSE murió con 51 años de una NEUMONIA de forma fulminante en la NOCHEVIEJA 2013 tras haber exhibido poco antes el vinilo 20 aniversario de EL ESPIRITU DEL VINO q incluye CULPABLE y EL CAMINO DEL EXCESO..y luego tras recuperarme me volvi a lesionar jugando FUTBOL y empezaron los problemas con mi padre o su empresa , notario Gerardo Muñoz DE DIOS, Telecinco, etc]..q compre cuando volvi por el CARNAVAL de 2019 hospedandome otra vez en hotel MISION frente Hotel GENESIS y desde donde volé a LA PAZ pero no de BOLIVIA donde estuve este 2023 sino de Baja CALIFORNIA.
X cierto..en MAZATAN en 2002 vi x TV como ganaba REAL MADRID la copa INTERCONTINENTAL al oLIMPIA de ASUNCION [=ASCENSION DE LA VIRGEN] con el argentino PUMPIDO de entrenador que cuando era portero se le engancho el anillo de CASADO en la RED y se arranco un DEDO.
..y en 2019 vi como AJAX le marcaba 4 goles en el BERNABEU a COURTOIS [q cuando era portero de ATLETICO MADRID y ganó en el BERNABEU la COPA DEL REY de 2013 al REAL MADRID yendo yo..lo celebró en la PUERTA DEL SOL diciendo SALTA PEQUEÑO KANGURO Y AL MADRIDISTA QUE LE DEN POR EL CULO]..al q por entonces ALBA CARRILLO dijo que tenía la BRAGUETA MUY SUELTA y fotografiandole nada más volver de MEXICO al pasar con la moto cuando firmaba autógrafos en VALDEBEBAS o fabrica del REAL MADRID.
Por cierto ..en el accidente con mi BMW [con el q recogí CAJAS DE AGUA tras la carrera en Isla de la CARTUJA en la q escuche a CHAYANNE al pasar x Auditorio al aire libre de ROCIO JURADO=27_9_2002].. comprado en calle SALVA_TIERRA iba Jaime DE ROQUE [=ESTAR DORMIDO] al q no le pasó nada
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astrocuentosbienconta2 · 1 year ago
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17a Fiesta Del Libro de Medellin 2023
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andreagaleano · 2 years ago
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El vestido con el que tanto has soñado podemos hacerlo realidad, en tu color favorito y a tu medida para que tengas… TUS QUINCE SOÑADOS 💖 #andreagaleano® Vestidos únicos para momentos especiales. 💜👗 . . #CasadeModasAndreaGaleano #alamedida #enaguasparavestidos #vestidosdefiesta #vestidossobmedida #Mis15 #vestidosde15 #Quinceañeras #15años #Fiesta #Fiestadequince #fotosquinceañeras #party #hechoenmedellín #compracolombiano🇨🇴 (en Medellin Antioquia Colombia) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp_squsMciV/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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pseudo-photographer · 5 years ago
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a la farra se llega en bus
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ivanreycristo · 2 years ago
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Tener SALUD no tiene PRECIO pero si encima TIENES FORMA FISICA más Allá de los 50 es un REGALO DE VIDA=CRISTO DE LA SALUD PARA UNA VIDA MEJOR
X cierto..voy a comer en la ZONA ZERO..no confundir con el AREA ZERO o 11_$ q fotografió Stephane Sednaoui [ex novia de Kylie Minogue entre otras famosas o cantantes como BJORK o LAETITIA CASTA a la q tenía EMBARAZADA cuando fotografió EL AREA ZERO el 12 de septiembre=obra satírica de Newyorkino LEO BASSI como LA REVELACION y q vi en febrero 2002 justo antes de q luego fuera a calle SOR ANGELA DE LA CRUZ a una fiesta en la casa de la MEXICANA ROCIO MEDELLIN BLANCO al llamarme aunque al día siguiente tenía la 1/2 MARATON de EL PARDO=residencia de FRANCO..como última prueba de preparación para mi 3era MARATON DE SEVILLA q acababa entonces y hasta hace poco dentro del Estadio oLIMPIcO]
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realcollectors · 5 months ago
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La fiesta del libro al jardín ❤️ en el Jardín Botánico en #Medellín #Medellin ❤️
#SomosRealCollectors #RealCollectors #RealCollectorsCO #AdultCollectors #AdultCollector #RealCollector #WeAreRealCollectors #AprendiendoaColeccionar #SubastasEnLinea #MeLeMetoAlRancho #RetoCollectors #RainbowGrandPrix
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andres10tp · 2 years ago
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CONFIRMÓ !! @andrest_ph @andrespostres #medellin #meme #progreso #vida #amor #love #meme #memepage #andrespostres #bogota #pereira #cartajena #cali #andrespostres #fiesta (en Andres's Postres) https://www.instagram.com/p/Clmg1Fyv05g/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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