#adios mother fucker

[inkyquince]

Tooth gone

[scumgristle]

NO REASON

Blood coming out of… WHEREVER.

[elryuse]

Break Up #3

"That was fucking amazing right.."?

"Y-yeah I-it surely is Yujin".

"I'm glad you like it...".

"C-can you sleep with me tonight Yujin.. I-i.. I really enjoy you're company".

" *smile* Y-you do? You really mean that"?

"Y-yeah... Ah.. I-i mean.. If you're busy... I won't force you.. ".

" *smooch* No... I'm not busy.... At all... Hehehe... A-and can I ask you something Y/n"?

"Y-yeah"?

"What are we? I-i mean are we friends with benefits? A-a sexfriend? O-or can W-we be more than that..? M-maybe a couple... If you want it that is".

" *smooch* I love you yujin.. And I don't know if we're going too fast.. But I really want to try to make this relationship work"..

After hearing that... Yujin's heart melt. In the end we ended up cuddling in my bed. She was giggling the whole time, enjoying our time together. Y-you yourself didn't think that you would end up in the same bed with your best friend... But somehow.. It feels way way better and comfortable to sleep with yujin than hyewon.

At this point. I was wondering what was hyewon doing... I was constantly thinking about her. Which I shouldn't. We already broke up.. I should have move on.. And keep my focus on Yujin... But deep down in my heart.. I just wished that she's fine out there.

"What did you say..... How could you say that to me... I've broken up with him for you... For us.. Now you're telling me you're getting married"???

"I'm sorry hyewon.. But that's the reality. And I'm sorry I really do. I mean I really do enjoy fucking that nice body of yours. But Us?? There is never us to begin with. You're just some bimbo that I like to fuck".

"Y-you son of a bitch... *slap*.... I should have never trust you... I should have trusted my guts instead of my heart.. ".

"Well bye bye now... My fiancee is waiting for me.... Adios".

"C-carlos... Come back... You mother fucker...".

Why... Why... Why is this happening to me... I should have necer... I should have never hurt him.. Why am I such a fool. Oh dear.... *sobs* W-why am I such a dumbass. He have given me everything he have..

If I apologize to him... Will he still wants me? D-do I even have a chance to get back with him again. After all of the shit I've done to his life. Aghhh.... Hyewon.. Why are you so dumb at you're life choices. Ughhhh.

"I think I should talk to him tomorrow".

[barbatusart]

If I can ask, what does AMF stand for? I'm a huge Stone fan and want to know Everything About Everything right now. Thank you lots, 🦔

A.M.F. is the polite name of the blue cousin of the long island ice tea the Adios Mother Fucker

ALSO if you'd like more background minutia we've been (very slowly) putting together a behind the scenes page! it's over at sus.space/sidesalads (still incomplete but there's some fun tidbits hehe)

[alexandraisyes]

eclipse gives me the vibes to be into bondage, rough play, sensory deprivation, and overstimulation

he’d love edging others on until they’re nothing but a moaning mess and left at his mercy, he’d love to see them whimper and beg for release as he wouldn’t give it until he wanted to

mother fucker would love being restrained and restraining others and loves it when it hurts (because it helps him remember he’s real and he’s there and it’s not a memory that isn’t his-) and loves hurting others

i will now close tumblr and pretend i’m not about to get shot-

adios

Eclipse would be into pet play and probably different tones of BDSM-

-gets shot and dies-

WHY DID YOU HAVE TO LEAVE THIS ON MY MAIN HAHAHAHA

Anyways you're so right

Ask Game - Send Me Confessions

[snakeoilpictures]

It's surgery day! Final sayonara to tumor and tubes! Alpha Mike Foxtrot. In other words, adios mother fucker!

And HUGE LOVING THANKS to my brother @absolutedisaster69 for driving me and navigating the nightmare of Atlanta traffic for the first time.

[galaxionart]

Jake:

*Throws Turtle Shell*

“ADIOS, MOTHER FUCKER!��

The last character you drew/wrote about is now stuck in the last game you played. How screwed are they?

[pure-vanilla-lilies]

mystic flour: gimme an Adios Mother Fucker, bartender.

YES!

[ssnapshotyt]

This AMF Hits Harder than Shaina's Departure from LOVE IS BLIND

Cocktails: Shaina's Adios Mother Fucker hits even harder than her departure from NETFLIX's hit series Love is Blind. #Cocktails #drinksrecipe 🍹🍸🖥️Subscribe​ to 𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 YouTube channel for more video reviews and ratings of hand-crafted and international cocktails: → https://www.youtube.com/@_SNAP_SHOT?sub_confirmation=1 ↳ Turn on notifications (🔔) for Easy Cocktails Videos uploads! https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC4SH5lbgmWFUaXgs_zYytAA ✅ Stay Connected! 👉 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/snapshotcocktails 👉 TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@.snap.shot ================================= - ½ oz vodka - ½ oz rum - ½ oz tequila - ½ oz gin - ½ oz blue curaçao - 2 oz sweet & sour - Sprite - Lemon wedge (garnish) - Cherry (garnish) 1. Build in highball glass 2. Stir 3. Top w/ Sprite 4. Garnish w/ lemon wedge & cherry ================================= ✅ Recommended Playlists: 👉 World Cocktails: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6kb7m_Pk6laAkKzcagtA8yR413hqIXxu 👉 Love is Blind Cocktails: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6kb7m_Pk6lbJrWy-FnTb3ChRFhSdJyuM 👉 60 Seconds Cocktails: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kk1IfXvqX-0&list=PL6kb7m_Pk6lYeKtCGz4qSxIVyVdvph__R ✅ Other Videos You Might Be Interested In Watching: 👉 2023's Official SPRING BREAK Cocktail: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ToMuGvj-9Ik 👉 Why the ISLAND BREEZE is 2023's Getaway Cocktail: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnkGPMQ9eBA 👉 We Found the Best Whiskey Cocktail for Christmas: https://youtu.be/gHPX28NVLEg 👉 Top 5 Countdown of the BEST World Cup Cocktails https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WbEGZ0mvKXU #Cocktail #Typesofcocktails #VariousDrinks #Adventure #Makingcocktails #Worldcocktails #Snapshot #Deliciouscocktails #WhiskeyCocktails #Travel ================================= ✅ About SNAPSHOT. Welcome to SNAPSHOT, Every adventure around the world is an opportunity to celebrate. Snapshot is about making cocktails for different occasions, exploring tastes and cultures worldwide, and reviewing those drinks with your friends and family. 🔔 Subscribe to our channel to join the world of travelers exploring tastes and cultures worldwide: https://www.youtube.com/@_SNAP_SHOT ================================= #cocktails #easycocktails #mostpopularcocktailsintheworld #snapshot #cocktailsfromaroundtheworld #simplecocktailsbysnapshot Disclaimer: We do not accept any liability for any loss or damage incurred by you acting or not acting as a result of watching any of my publications. You acknowledge that you use the information provided at your own risk. Do your own research. Copyright Notice: This video and YouTube channel contain dialogue, music, and images that are the property of SNAPSHOT. You are authorized to share the video link and channel and embed this video in your website or others as long as a link back to this Youtube Channel is provided. © SNAPSHOT

[waynes-multiverse]

OH MY GOD! I’m positively obsessed with this story! I love it!!! If this were legit a book, it would be one of those I wouldn’t be able to put down, you know? The one you read and read and read and don’t care about food and sleep, and then suddenly it’s three days later, and your stomach rumbles and your eyes are red, reminding you that you do need to eat and sleep. But yeah, it’s that kind of story! 😍👏💚

More swooning below! 👇

Honestly, I know you said at the end that this part was sort of a filler, but I would read thirty pages of purely this. I love the manhunt and her hanging out with the boys and Annie and Kimiko. I could read way more chapters of this and not get bored, seriously. It’s that good! Gimme as much cat and mouse as possible. I thoroughly enjoyed this!

First of all, you nailed all the characters perfectly. Annie, Frenchie, Butcher, Hughie & M.M.! I laughed every time the latter mothered her or was anal about shit. Hilarious and so accurate! Five stars for a job well done! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

No, you weren’t former SAS, like Butcher. You weren’t CIA, or any other military alphabet soup. 

Loved that line! Genuinely made me laugh 😂

I also pretty much laughed at every line Butcher threw out. From “granny fucker” to “not enough hugs,” it was hard to contain myself. And I love her character, her skill set, and how damn smart she is! To me, this girl is Liam Neeson in Taken. God forbid someone dares to kidnap her sweet sister. Butcher better respect her!

Everything is relevant, always. Even if it isn’t.

So true! And no matter what you think about Soldier Boy and his general attitude before he got kidnapped by the commies, forty years of torture certainly changes a person. He at least deserves a second chance to prove he might have changed, although he’s still pretty “macho.” But c’mon! The guy is over a hundred years old and missed out on tons of progress! How is he supposed to know any better if no one teaches him? Just knowing what he went through in Russia always breaks my heart. The guy needs a genuine hug and some understanding, not Novichok and a bullet, much less be turned back into a popsicle... 😔

In other news, I’m a fan of Soldier Boy’s South America tour so far. First Brazil where I’m sure he learned what a g-string and a Brazilian wax is before he moved on to goddamn Columbia (of course he did). Did he already find out about Netflix and catch up on Narcos? Either way, I bet the cartels are happy to host him, even though he might snort the whole country 😂

Her big blue eyes were vacant, her blonde hair caked with blood from a head shot.

No! Not Bette Davis Eyes! 😭 I love how caring reader was, though. She’s got a good heart in that chest of hers.

“I like it when they’re cocky,” you replied.

Me too, girlie, me too... 😆

[...] he seemed to be taking an extended vacation surrounding strip clubs, casinos, and other likely destinations for sex, drugs, and money. 

As crazy as it may be, I genuinely love this guy 💚 Also love the fact that he robbed banks. Way to go, my hero!

“Whoever you’re looking for that isn’t me,” he said, injecting a fair bit of charm into his voice. 

Wow. Antonio is becoming annoying quickly. And handsy. ADIOS ASSHOLE! A small part of me hoped whoever is watching her (SB?) might swoop in and save her all hero-like. *sighs* A girl can only dream... But good for her! She saved herself! Who needs men anyway? My little Liam Neeson surely doesn’t ❤️

“He had tenacity,” Frenchie remarked.

But of course, the French guy appreciates the Latino fire 😂

You didn’t want to go in, but you wouldn’t put it past Soldier Boy to get caught up in a mass orgy. 

No, we really shouldn’t... 😅

Focusing on the far wall, you saw a leather chair by the window, with a still smoking cigar laid to rest in an ash tray on a small table.

Okay, seriously, this should not turn me on as much as it does. I’ve never gone for the douchey cigar smoker, but all I want is for Soldier Boy to slap my rear and order me to refill his drink. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Butcher, you’ll die first. Then the cum-guzzler. 

DEAD!!! This one little note killed me. KILLED ME!!! I laughed so hard! Poor Hughie. He always gets the worst end of the stick 🤣🤣🤣 I bow to your feet and heavily applaud you for this one! 👏 (This is exactly why I could read endless chapters of this manhunt and this story. Hunt him around the globe. I’ll pay for the whole ride!)

“Maybe then you’ll—and let me not shock you here—meet someone,” Louisa said. “And finally put an end to that goddamn dry spell. What’s it been, like three years?” 

I love her little sister 😏🖤

But mere feet above you, if you had only looked up to the roof, you would’ve seen a hunter lazily eyeing his prey.

DUDE! That ending!!! Glorious! Is it SB? Someone from his entourage? No, I bet it’s him. She caught his green eyes in that sexy af leather dress, didn’t she? I need help 😂🙈

I want more! MORE! If this had legit 10k words, I would’ve devoured it all the same 😍👏 Amazing, amazing job, love! Can you tell I’m obsessed yet? Sorry for that ultra long ramble. And that little sneak peek... 👀 Is it Wednesday yet? When is the next part dropping? GAH! 💚

Break Me Down - Part 1

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…

**To start from the Prologue.

Word Count: 5,200 Warnings: Some male skeeviness lol.

Part 1: The Game Begins

Two months ago…

You and M.M. continued to pour over all the records that the CIA had been able to pull on Soldier Boy.

This had been your life for the past month: locked in one hotel room after the next, up to your eyeballs in research. Or pounding the pavement in the sweltering summer of Brazil, on any whisper of Soldier Boy.

Right now it was the former. You all were piled into M.M.’s room, as it was the only one with a kitchen.

You smiled at Frenchie and thanked him when he offered you a steaming mug. At least you would finally get to experience Brazilian coffee.

You hiked a foot on the table where you and M.M. were working and sipped carefully; the mug was filled to the brim. Your companion eyed your pajama-clad leg, which only encroached an inch or two into his space.

“Excuse the fuck outta me,” said M.M. “Can you not?”

You briefly looked up from the (completely fabricated) biopic you were reading on Soldier Boy. “Hmm?”

M.M. gestured to your bare foot on the table. “Hello? What, were you raised in a fucking barn?”

With an amused smile, you lowered your leg. “I’m cramping up. We’ve been at this for six hours.”

“And counting,” Hughie said with a tired sigh. He and Annie had just come from scoping the local tourist spots and dive bars in the city. But it wasn’t for pleasure. You all had arrived in Brazil last night on a rumor that Soldier Boy had been spotted at a club a couple of days ago. 

Annie heaved a sigh as she dropped into the seat next to you. She stole your paper fan on the table and tried to dry the sweat on her face and neck. You smiled and passed her your bottled water as well.

You and Annie had been “work friendly” at Supe Affairs. But now you felt like she had accepted you the most readily into the group. She seemed genuinely interested in who you were as a person as well.

Though you tried not to give too many personal details about your life, she had a way of disarming you, getting you to open up with her genuine willingness to listen. 

You were friendly enough with Hughie and Kimiko as well, and you could also admit, you liked M.M. He was a straightforward man (and fun to tease with his anal idiosyncrasies). You got the most done with M.M. by your side. And watching him with Frenchie was pure entertainment. 

Overall, you felt respected by them, even if you knew you weren’t as close as the rest of them seemed to be. You just hadn’t been on the team long enough. 

The only one who mostly ignored you was Billy Butcher.

Butcher didn’t want you on the team. He’d made that pretty clear from the beginning.

What had his words been? Oh, yeah.

She’s a fucking amateur. Won’t last thirty seconds if, heavens for-fuckin’-bid, she encounters an A-lister like Soldier Boy. 

You knew he considered you dead weight. But as Grace had told him, her track record speaks for itself. 

No, you weren’t former SAS, like Butcher. You weren’t CIA, or any other military alphabet soup. But if there was one thing you knew how to do, it was tracking people down.

You were currently flitting through Soldier Boy’s sham career: the shitty music videos, the starlets, the ticker tape parades, and what precious little there was about his beginnings: about “Ben.” 

You did find out that his family was from Hartford, Connecticut, and stupidly rich too. You found his parents’ names to go along with that. 

And then it was a hop, skip, and a jump to him being unveiled as Soldier Boy.  

“That is curious,” you murmured. 

“Curious about the world’s most infamous granny fucker?” Butcher remarked. You slid him a wry look. 

The fact that he tried to erase his past is interesting,” you said. “The details that aren’t here are just as important as the ones that are.”

Butcher hesitated a second, an ice-cold beer poised to his lips. He tipped it toward you in acknowledgement. “On that, we actually agree.”

“What do we know about his real life? Before he became Soldier Boy,” you asked.

Butcher sat down across from you and shaded in the details he knew, mostly about a disappointed father. 

“Didn’t get enough hugs as a lad,” he surmised. 

You suspected he was understating the truth. If there weren’t that many recorded accounts, pictures, or footage of Soldier Boy’s parents and home life, then he didn’t want people to know. 

Interesting, you thought. Eventually Butcher got up to run down another lead that came in via text from Grace. Frenchie came back from the kitchen and saw how intently you were staring at your computer screen, eyes rapidly scanning. 

“Ah,” Frenchie said, gesturing between you and the departed Butcher with a hand that held three alfajores cookies. “I see the same anal tenacity that fuels Monsieur Charcutier.”

You raised a brow. “My tenacity is for the case, not Soldier Boy.”

This wasn’t a vendetta for you. This was just business.

“For money,” M.M. correctly guessed, but his eyes held no judgment. “Been there.”

You sighed, smiling a little. Yes, you were doing this for money. They didn’t need to know anything more than that. 

You liked this team well enough, but this was a job. The way you protected your family, and yourself, was by not talking about them.

That night, Frenchie’s ordered “package” arrived, courtesy of Grace. It was a healthy dose of Novichok gas—perhaps one of the only substances on Earth that could put Soldier Boy into a peaceful sleep. 

Well, you didn’t know if it was peaceful, exactly. But he’d be asleep. That was all any of you cared about.

“At least it’s in proper containment this time,” M.M. said, examining the large cannister. Annie peered at it over his shoulder. 

“I don’t know. My shitty perfume case seemed to hold it just fine,” she quipped. 

You smiled from your usual seat at your computer. Annie came over with a sandwich for both of you. It was from the café down the street, and you’d been meaning to try it. Every time you stood out on your hotel room’s balcony, you could smell fresh bread and smoked meats coming from the café. 

“Oh, yeah. How’s your sister?” Annie asked around a mouthful of sandwich. “She’s in college now, right?”

She had a good memory. Annie had heard you on the phone with your sister before you all left last month. You’d said one last goodbye, knowing it wouldn’t be safe to talk once you were locked into this mission.

While you were reluctant to answer Annie’s question, the others seemed distracted in the kitchen, fighting over who ordered chorizo and who ordered steak on their sandwich. 

Still, you lowered your voice, even as a proud smile graced your lips. “She got into Julliard.”

Annie grinned and set her food down to give a little clap. 

“She starts in the fall, so a few months,” you added.

“Aww, you’re glowing with pride,” Annie teased. And you laughed, but it was true. You wouldn’t hide that you were very proud of your little sister’s accomplishments. 

“She’s worked hard, and she deserves it,” you said. Though your eyes dimmed. “I just wish I could help her celebrate…she’s on my case for taking this job.”       

Quite simply, she worried about you. You were good at your job, but you were still human. She’d seen you come home banged up and bruised more often than you cared to admit…

Annie gave you a knowing look. “If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to. I’m sure you can get other jobs—”

“Getting into school is just the beginning,” you said. “She’s got four years to go. Then her master’s. Hell, her doctorate if she wants.”

“There are scholarships…”

“It’s not enough,” you said with a sigh. It’s never enough.

“All right, lads,” Butcher said. He wiped his mouth with a napkin as he read off his phone. “The new Strongest Cunt in the World has been spotted. Suit up.” 

“Where’re we going?” you asked, closing up your laptop. 

Butcher shot you a wink. “Columbia.”

While on the private plane, you were the only one still awake as you continued to watch the archival footage with your Airpods in. Reel after motherfucking reel of Soldier Boy. 

You really were starting to get sick of his smug face. He was clearly a good actor, if nothing else. 

But then you came across the Russia files. 

Part of you didn’t want to watch. You knew exactly what they were, and you didn’t want to see anything that would make you sympathize with him in your mind…

But your father’s training was ingrained in you—like fingerprints on your skin. Like a vice grip around your throat. 

Everything is relevant, always. Even if it isn’t.

…That, and maybe your own insatiable curiosity won out. 

So you steeled yourself with a breath, and you hit the play button. 

Gradually, your eyes widened. 

You had seen awful things—as a private investigator at your father’s firm, and at Vought. 

You had filled your quota of blood and death. And you had already seen the footage of Soldier Boy blasting a tower full of people in New York with the nuclear power now housed in his chest. 

You also knew what he did to M.M.’s family. But after watching several minutes of Soldier Boy's torture, hearing his struggle, his outbursts of rage, the ragged gasps for breath, the clawing, traumatized sounds...

It was like stereo between your ears, and it was...too familiar. Too much.

So you finally turned it off, closing your laptop with an unsettled breath of your own. 

And you were unable to sleep that night.

When you all finally arrived in Columbia, you and the team surveyed the wreckage in the casino.

It was a fucking blood bath.

As you stepped carefully through the wreckage of bodies and gambling chips, you looked for clues. Anything that might tell you about what Soldier Boy was doing here (though you could guess), and however unlikely, where he might go next. 

You were disheartened to find the body of a young woman. Her big blue eyes were vacant, her blonde hair caked with blood from a head shot. On further inspection, you found a small room key in her hand. 

With a sigh and a gloved hand, you took the key. But you also closed the girl’s eyes. 

You kept looking while the others had fanned out in the opposite direction. When you came across a small table that wasn’t turned over or splintered into fragments, you raised a brow. There was a napkin pinned to the top with a steak knife. 

You yanked it out and examined the flimsy napkin. Noticing that you’d found something, Butcher came over to your side. He was much taller than you, fairly looming over your shoulder. You angled the note toward him. 

Try harder.

S.B.

It was more than just a taunt. 

It was the beginning of a game. And it made you smile. 

“What the hell’re you smiling about?” Butcher asked. 

“I like it when they’re cocky,” you replied. Butcher shot you a sideways glance, one that said you were maybe more deranged than even him.

“All supes are cocky bastards.”

You eyed him with a teasing grin. “On that, we actually agree.”

True to Grace’s word, she provided you all with the full extent of the CIA’s resources. While Butcher tracked down the hotel of the room key you found, you and M.M. were able to tap into any and all local street cameras and map out the likely points Soldier Boy had hit in this city—and where he could be going next.  

According to the hotel manager, Soldier Boy had paid for a month’s stay, but hadn’t checked out after coming back for some of his belongings. The security cameras had caught him leaving his hotel room with a few men—armed ex-military types, and possibly his new entourage. 

But the trail ended there. 

Over the next two months, Soldier Boy continued to be one step ahead of you in the chase. 

Though his movements were calculated (disappearing like a coil of smoke whenever you caught his scent), he seemed to be taking an extended vacation surrounding strip clubs, casinos, and other likely destinations for sex, drugs, and money. 

And he’d evaded capture after hitting at least three banks on his way out of the U.S. alone.

At the current crap motel of the week, you shared the couch with Kimiko and Hughie while you surveyed traffic cameras.

“What’s the likelihood that he’s even still in Columbia? In South America, even?” Hughie asked. It was a good goddamn question.

“We have agents covering every major port and air hanger,” M.M. said. “If he wants to escape the continent, he’s gonna have to fight his way out, or rent a dingy and float his motherfuckin’ ass across the Atlantic.” 

“I wouldn’t put anything past him,” you remarked. “What connections does he have?”

It wasn’t the first time you’d asked that question, but it was the first time you got a straightforward answer. 

“Who knows,” said M.M. “He’s an ancient fuck.”

“Who killed all his old friends,” Hughie supplied.

“Well, his team, to be fair. I don’t think he ever had friends,” Annie said. “...Plus his old girlfriend.”

“What a spectacular bonfire that was,” Butcher dryly quipped. 

Nice, you thought, heavy on the sarcasm. 

You sighed. Clearly, you all would have to be prepared for anything.

When you weren’t pouring through surveillance, you took to the streets with Annie, playing the part of American tourists. 

“Soldier Boy don’t know who the fuck you are,” Butcher had reasoned. He’d then pointed at Annie.

“Her fame as Starlight can get you two into whatever bar, club, or fuckhole that might’ve let him in. She’ll park it at a table, attracting attention. Meanwhile, you’ll circle around and look for him.”

It was actually a sound plan, and you could be a decent actor yourself. This wasn’t the first time you’d adopted a role to find your target, and on this mission, it probably wouldn’t be the last.    

Well, a week later, the plan worked. You and Annie encountered a woman at a bar who waited tables at a nearby club, in Medellin. She’d served Soldier Boy just last night. 

Medellin was considered the party city of Columbia, and for good reason. 

Butcher had cleverly found your “disguise” for tonight, though you hadn’t liked the smirk on his bearded face when he gave you the shopping bag. 

It turned out to be a semi-legal black leather dress, along with thigh-high boots possessing a sharp heel. Annie’s dress was just as short, and gold. With her blonde hair and shimmering makeup contrasting your black dress and smokey makeup, the two of you looked like night and day. Light and dark. 

While Hughie manned surveillance in a rented van, parked outside the club, the rest of the team had found strategic points to cover in the club: M.M. was at the bar. Frenchie and Kimiko had found a table to watch the area in front of the stage, while Butcher was somewhere clinging to the shadows. 

You followed Annie into the club. Once they’d recognized her as Starlight, they’d let her right in, and you by association. You didn’t envy her fame, but you could admit, it had some perks.

Inside, the club was dark and loud, and packed with people and streams of colorful light bouncing off the walls. This isn’t going to be easy. 

Both of you scoped the area subtly before joining M.M. at the bar. 

Well, you two found your own opening further down. Sitting next to him would be too obvious.   

You subtly pressed a finger to the communicator in your ear while Annie ordered drinks. 

“It’s gonna be hard to find my own ass in here,” you said to the team. You scanned the place and noticed an entire second and third floor. “This place is huge.” 

“Then get crackin’, love,” Butcher’s voice reached you. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. But you did take the vodka martini Annie offered you. 

“Ah, you beat me to it,” a man said, his richly accented voice hovering near your ear. You turned your head and had to lean back a bit. You were met with blue eyes, tan skin, and an attractive smile. The man tipped an imaginary hat, letting his shoulder-length dark hair dip into his eyes. 

“Good evening, mi vida,” he said. “I was gonna buy you a drink, but I see you’ve got one. Mind if I finish my beer with you?”

Inwardly you wanted to sigh, but you gave a flirtatious smile to keep up appearances. “Sure.”

“Where are you from?” he asked, and with a more teasing smile. “I’m having a hard time placing your accent.” 

You affected a giggle. “Oh, really? You mean I don’t have a massive, neon sign over my head that says, ‘American Tourist?’”

“Well, maybe not neon,” he joked. “I’m Antonio.”

“I’m Jess,” you lied, shaking his hand. He turned it over and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Annie raised a brow behind you, but she sipped her drink.

Antonio must’ve been a local. His dark blue buttoned-down shirt, jeans, and boots were more casual than the obvious tourists with their flashing finery. And by his accent, you could guess that he was at least Latino. Columbian, most likely.

You were able to subtly dodge the question of exactly where you were from. And the two of you flirted for a few minutes while you continued to survey the people passing by, scanning the gaps between bodies.

When Antonio finally asked you to dance, you agreed. It would get you further into the club with a better excuse than walking around aimlessly. You turned to Annie.

“Catch you later?” you asked. She tossed you a wink.

“Yeah, girl. Have fun!”

You smiled and let Antonio lead you to the dance floor. But you discreetly used every movement to your advantage, looking beyond your dancing partner to continue your search. If Soldier Boy was here, you would find him.

“He’s not here,” said Antonio. It actually managed to jerk you out of your focus.

“Who?” you asked, feigning confusion.

“Whoever you’re looking for that isn’t me,” he said, injecting a fair bit of charm into his voice. 

You actually felt your face warming up at that. The way he was looking at you now, there was very little doubt as to what he wanted. His grip on your hips tightened. 

Part of you was getting impatient with this part of the game, but at the very least, he was a good dancer. He pulled you effortlessly through the cumbia, Columbian salsa dancing, even if he was starting to sweat on you. 

But now, you could almost swear someone was watching. Though it might’ve been the sweat dripping down your spine, you felt that strange prickle on the back of your neck.

Well, besides Annie. You knew she was keeping an eye on you from the bar, as were Frenchie and Kimiko as they joined a poker game in the far corner, away from the dance floor.

Your gaze continued to flit through every corner of the room between spins and the movements of your feet and your hips. 

But when Antonio’s hands started get a bit too familiar with the curve of your ass, you took his hands and used them to spin yourself. He brought you back in tight. A bit too tight.

“Come on, baby…” he whispered in your ear.

And you felt his hand slide up the inside of your thigh. He even had the audacity to try and slip past the lacey front of your underwear.

That’s when your patience snapped. 

You grabbed his wrist and “accidentally” drove your heel into his foot. With precision you felt it land between two vertebrae. 

The girlish yelp he made brought a flicker of a smile to your lips, but you covered it with a doe-eyed look and many bumbling apologies. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

He all but shoved you as he limped away, cursing you in Spanish. You’d taken four years of it in high school, and you still only caught half of it.  

Hiding your smile, you walked away and pressed a discreet finger to the comm in your ear. 

“The stage front is clear. Scoping the back.”

“Wait for me,” Annie said. She was still sitting at the bar. “I think you broke that guy’s foot.”

“He had tenacity,” Frenchie remarked.

“All balls and no brains, as usual,” you muttered. “Stay there and look shiny, Annie. He’s less likely to recognize me, but he might come out to play if he spots a familiar face at the bar.”

“She’s right,” Butcher said to Annie. “Stay where you are.”    

You made your way to the bathroom and scoped the hall. There in the privacy of the shadows, you adjusted the gun holster on your thigh. It was a miracle Antonio hadn’t felt it. 

Not that a gun would do much against Soldier Boy, but you didn’t feel right without it. 

Then you kept moving and dodged various couples making out (and more) on your way upstairs.

“Going up,” you informed the team quietly. The second floor was a series of rooms, none of which you wanted to pop in on without an invitation. But after you made it to the end of the hall, you turned a corner and noticed a door hung open a crack. Sliding it open, you found a wall of music there to greet you.

But that wasn’t all.

Inside was a room of people drinking and drugging and generally doing things to one another. You didn’t want to go in, but you wouldn’t put it past Soldier Boy to get caught up in a mass orgy. 

You walked through the room, only taking in what you needed to with your eyes. 

Focusing on the far wall, you saw a leather chair by the window, with a still smoking cigar laid to rest in an ash tray on a small table. Your head tilting with interest, you went over to the table and found another hand-written note. 

Once again, you sighed. “He’s not here, guys. He bounced.”

Once you all regrouped with Hughie outside the club, you handed the note to Butcher with a grimace.

“You have a love letter,” you said. And Hughie too.

With a wry brow raise, Butcher looked down at the scrap of paper.

Butcher, you’ll die first. Then the cum-guzzler. 

S.B.

That night at the hotel, after you'd showered and peeled off that ridiculous dress, you poured over the Soldier Boy files again.

You hadn’t touched the Russia ones since that first night, but you knew you were missing far too much. In order to anticipate his moves, you needed to understand how he thought.

You couldn’t do that if you didn’t even have the full picture of who he was. And the movies, the silly music videos, even the exploded skyscraper and Homelander’s death—none of it told the full story of Ben. 

It didn’t tell you what he wanted. What he cared about. Why he was playing cat and mouse instead of just taking his stand, like his soldier persona would’ve demanded of his pride.

Or maybe that pride's just like everything else: a well-crafted costume.

A knock at your door jolted you out of your thoughts. 

You got up to your feet, briefly looking down to make sure you were decently dressed (you supposed pajama shorts, a bra, and a tank top would suffice). You grabbed your gun and checked the peephole before you answered the door with a smile.

It was M.M. with a mug of tea for you. “I knew you’d still be up, killin’ those files. It’s almost morning, you know.”

You accepted the mug with a warmer smile.  

“Aw, you do care,” you quipped. He rolled his eyes. 

You laughed a little. “Seriously, thank you.”

He pointed at you.

“Go to sleep,” he said. You raised two fingers to your temple in salute. 

“Sir. Yes, sir!” you joked. Really, you appreciated his concern. After hearing many a story about his daughter Jennine, and seeing how the rest of the team respected him, you knew that he was a good man. 

And thanks to him and Annie, you were actually starting to feel like part of this team.

After you wished him goodnight (or good morning, at this rate), you closed the door to your hotel room, followed closely by your laptop. 

You took out your phone, silently contemplating what time it would be in New York right now.

Well, it would still be very early in the morning. But you thought it was worth a try, since you had the time.

You dialed your sister, Luisa. While it rang, you remembered just how thin these hotel walls were. So you stepped out to the rickety balcony. Jeez, hope it holds my weight throughout this call.

When your sister eventually answered, she murmured your name sleepily in confusion.

“Hey, sorry for waking you up,” you said, feeling bad. 

“It’s okay.” She yawned. “I should be up soon anyway. Got 8 am classes Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

“Ech. Screw that shit,” you teased. 

“You’re the one sweating balls in South America.”

“I’d rather be drowning in my own sweat than listening to some old bag drone on for eight hours,” you volleyed back, and leaned against the balcony’s railing, even as it creaked suspiciously with your weight. 

“You, my friend, are uninspired. You mean to tell me mosquitoes and drug cartels are better than Mozart?” your sister asked incredulously. Her sleepy voice was starting to lose some of its gravel as you two fell into familiar bickering. 

“Wow, way to type cast. Not all of South America is about drug-running,” you pointed out. 

“Aren’t there, like, entire shows about people shoving cocaine up their ass to get from Columbia to Miami?” Luisa asked. 

“…Yes, but that’s not the point,” you said with a giggle. “And good guess. I’m actually in Medellin right now.”

“Are you supposed to tell me that?”

“Not really, no. But I don’t think you’ll sell me out to the cartels,” you joked. Or to the Russians, your mind added. That thought made your lips twist sourly. 

“Anyway, are you okay? How’s school, really?”

“It’s good, sis. You know I’m good. I’m worried about you,” she countered, and you could hear the concern in her voice.

“You know me. I’m always good,” you replied with good humor. The silence on the other line told you that you hadn’t been quite convincing enough. 

“When do you think you’ll come home?” she asked.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that night (or morning), you sighed. “That’s hard to say.”

The answering silence told you even more about your sister’s thoughts, and you felt guilty for it. 

“I’m happy just knowing you’re doing so well. With school, starting your adult life, doing your thing,” you added.  

“You need to start thinking about yourself,” she told you.

“What do you mean, Lou? I’m fine.”

It was Louisa’s turn to sigh.

“You know, I was so proud of you when you decided to leave Vought," she said. "When you finally got out from under Dad. When you started working at Supe Affairs…you seemed happy, like you were finally proud of yourself too.”

Emotion started to burn behind your eyes. Part of it was probably sleep deprivation, but you heard the sincerity in your sister’s voice.

She just knew you so well. And she wasn’t lying there—what she’d said was all true of you. But after the joke that was Victoria Neuman running Supe Affairs, you didn’t know what you could trust anymore. 

Maybe not even your own judgment. 

“But I really wish that you’d consider more than just your work,” Luisa said. “Like a hobby. Take a painting class. Go to karaoke, like we used to do in grade school after Choir practice. You have such a beautiful voice! Like Grandma’s was.”

“I’ll leave the performing to you, Lou,” you said with a chuckle. She was serious, however.

“Work isn’t everything,” she reminded you. Now her voice was firm. “You should go out with your friends. Go out with Annie! Rub shoulders with her celebrity friends.”  

“Right.” You huffed a laugh. You’d been around plenty of famous supes while at Vought. You’d ran down the leads and tracked down the criminals, just for the supes to swoop in and “save the day.” You did the grunt work, and they claimed the credit. 

You’d had enough of “celebrities” to last you a lifetime. 

“Maybe then you’ll—and let me not shock you here—meet someone,” Louisa said. “And finally put an end to that goddamn dry spell. What's it been, like three years?” 

“All right, all right.” You held up a hand of surrender, even if she couldn’t see it. You were grateful she couldn’t catch you blushing. “That’s enough about my non-life, thanks.” 

You shook your head. Embarrassment actually clawed inside your belly. 

Yes, it had been a while since you’d actually been with anyone, relationship or otherwise. You just didn’t have time to have a life, you’d reasoned. Working at Vought had been grueling, and your hours at the S.A., while better, were still demanding.

…Still, you could appreciate that your work-life balance left much to be desired. And that was on you. 

Case in point, you were on this job.

You tipped your face heavenward, letting the sunrise spill some warmth on your face. 

“But…I hear you, okay?” you replied with your eyes closed. 

“You do?” she asked suspiciously.

“Yeah. When I get back, I…I’ll work on it, okay?” you said. “But I love you.”

“Love you too, sis. I should probably get going, but…please be safe.”

“Always,” you promised.

After you hung up, you finally opened your eyes. 

That prickly feeling was back, almost like you were being watched.

You scanned around, but your human eyes didn’t find anything out of the ordinary in the sunshine pouring in between the rows of buildings. 

In fact, you didn’t see a damn thing that wasn’t supposed to be there.

So you clutched your phone to your chest, letting out a deep breath. Then you headed back inside.

But mere feet above you, if you had only looked up to the roof, you would’ve seen a hunter lazily eyeing his prey.

AN: Ok! So a little bit slow in this chapter, but it’s all important setup.

In the next chapter, the reader meets Soldier Boy:

You laid a hand on his chest, fingers spreading between the open buttons, and felt his warm skin. 

He glanced up at you with another challenging tilt to his head. What are you gonna do now?

You met that challenge, boldly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

Comment below or send me an ask if you'd like to be tagged in this series! And follow me for more Boys fics (and other fandoms). I'm also on Ao3!

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel

[x-lovely]

He said he was considering marriage counseling before he met me

Bitch

If someone cheated on me

Ain’t no god damn way we fucking doing marriage counseling

Im chopping his dick off and adios I go mother fucker

The betrayal will always be there sleeping beside you at night

How you live with that and get past that

[themosthorrific]

Drunk finger boarding at the bar

[inkandguns]

We’ll see how it goes. If they have called a truce with the Sons and the Mongols, this is going to be ugly.

In Chicago I feel like it’s just a bad idea for them to even try. You’ll get K-town rooftop Koreans 2.0 in those neighborhoods, the Hasidic Jews can handle their shit. The south side is pretty rough already, as with the west side. The cops are armed to the teeth and pretty brutal too. Black 15 year olds from Chicago flex their fully auto weapons on Snapchat and TikTok. I feel like the Russians are the last people you wanna mess with in Chicago - so if they try and take a mob controlled building.. adios mother fuckers.

I doubt this. Colorado is Mongols and Sons of Silence Territory.

[bobateaboo]

Imma head to bed, see y’all!

[motley-nroses]

Love at First Sight

Pairings: James Hetfield x Female Reader, Kirk Hammett x Female!Platonic reader

Summary: Y/N gets introduced to James by her best friend Kirk while at a bar.

Theme: Fluff

Requested: Nope!

A/N~ Happy belated birthday, Cliff! We all miss and love you 💜

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

Just a normal night a bar, I felt the need to go out and have fun with my life. I ordered a glass vodka and  sat at the bar watching the bartender do her job until I see someone sat next to me. 

I turn to see a somewhat familiar face, “Kirk?” 

The man turned to face me, “Y/N!” 

He hugs me as I hug the guitarist back. Out of my right eye, I see a man with long blonde hair looking at the two of us. Who is he?! I thought. He’s kind of hot. Probably has a girlfriend.   

Simply ignoring my thoughts, I turned back to Kirk. 

“How’s it going, N/N?” He asked me as he took a sip of vodka.

“I’m doing good. How about you, Kirky?”

“I’m doing wonderful, N/N.” He replied, slurring his words. This man is definitely drunk.

“Oooh! I want you to meet someone.” 

Grabbing my hand, he took me to where the same hot mother fucker man with long blonde hair, a misfits tank, and ripped jeans, that was looking at us earlier, sat.

Why does this man looked familiar??

The man put down his beer and raised a brow, “Kirk, who’s this?” Questioned his friend, he pointed his pointer finger at me.

“Y/N. Y/N, this is my band mate James.” 

He was friends with the James Hetfield???

“Hi, Y/N.” He smiled a bit and took another sip of his beer.

“Hi, James.” I smiled.

“Well, I have to go find some chicks. So adios.” Kirk announced, making me get out of the booth. 

He scooted out of the booth and went to find some girls. I sat back down and took a sip of my vodka.

“Shouldn't you be finding some girls as well, Hetfield?” I questioned him.

He chuckled, shaking his head and reaching for his beer, “Not today.” 

I raised an eyebrow, “Why?” 

He put down his beer and leaned towards me, “I already found one.” 

He smiled and I swear to fucking god my cheeks rose. His smile was literally was to die for. 

“James! I saw some chick focking a random guy in the boys bathroom!”