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integra1127grimmreaper · 9 months

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Not Alone

Clay Masterlist

Warning: angst, swearing, mention of death and suicidal thoughts

Summary: Part 3 of Doesn't Even Matter. Chapter inspired by the song - Lullaby by Nickelback. In your darkest hour, you're offered a friendly hand from one of the most unlikely person in the group.

Staring at the gun in your hands, you take one last gulp from the whiskey bottle as you cocked it. With a finger on the trigger, you exhale one last breathe and raise the barrel to your side temple.

"Time to go..." you breath out, slowly beginning to put pressure on the trigger.

"What-the-fuck?!" you cry out when the gun was suddenly ripped out your hands.

"Roque...?" you frown as he steps in front of you.

Well, I know the feeling Of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge And there ain't no healing From cutting yourself with the jagged edge

I'm telling you that, it's never that bad Take it from someone who's been where you're at Laid out on the floor And you're not sure, you can take this anymore

So just give it one more try to a lullaby And turn this up on the radio If you can hear me now I'm reaching out To let you know that you're not alone

And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell 'Cause I can't get you on the telephone So just close your eyes (close your eyes) Oh, honey, here comes a lullaby Your very own lullaby

"It ain't worth it, Kid..." Roque states frowning at you in displeasure.

"He ain't worth it."

"You know?" you stare at him in shock.

"How?"

"Saw him coming out your room the morning" Roque answers.

"You must think I'm an idiot..." you sigh, dropping your head in defeat.

"Nah, surprised it didn't happen sooner" Roque remarks causing you to snicker.

"Besides, we all knew you've secretly in love him like forever."

"Everyone, except him, you mean..." you scoff out in disgust.

"Clay's always thought with his dick" Roque responds nodding.

"We hoped... I hoped that it would be different with you."

"It wasn't. Started treating me like shit immediately after. He hates me and made it perfectly clear."

"He doesn't hate you" Roque responds.

Well, please let me take you Out of the darkness and into the light 'Cause I have faith in you That you're gonna make it through another night

Stop thinking about the easy way out There's no need to go and blow the candle out Because you're not done You're far too young And the best is yet to come

So just give it one more try to a lullaby And turn this up on the radio If you can hear me now I'm reaching out To let you know that you're not alone

And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell 'Cause I can't get you on the telephone So just close your eyes (close your eyes) Oh, honey, here comes a lullaby Your very own lullaby

"He bluntly told me that he wished I had been on that chopper when it went down!"

"He didn't mean it" Roque attempts to reassure you.

"For fucks sake, Roque! He meant every word he said!" you whimper out as tears begin to form in your eyes.

"We both know he did!"

"Clay's an asshole, that I will admit... but I don't believe he wants you dead."

"Doesn't matter in any case" you take another gulp from the whiskey bottle, whipping the back of your hand across your mouth.

"I'm done. So, either you hand me back that gun or do it for me."

"No, you're not" Roque shakes his head, making sure to keep the gun out of reach.

"You still have your whole life ahead of you."

"What life?" you snort, taking another gulp from the bottle.

"We're dead, in case you forgotten. Didn't even have anyone to receive my flag."

"Kid..." Roque sighs, staring at you in pity.

You shrug at his response.

"Dead already, this just makes it the truth."

"You ain't ending your story like this" Roque states.

"Not on my watch."

"Then hand me back the gun and walk away, Old Man" you respond, reaching your hand out for it.

Well, everybody's hit the bottom Everybody's been forgotten When everybody's tired of being alone Yeah, everybody's been abandoned And left a little empty handed So, if you're out there barely hanging on

Just give it one more try to a lullaby And turn this up on the radio If you can hear me now I'm reaching out To let you know that you're not alone

And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell 'Cause I can't get you on the telephone So just close your eyes (close your eyes)

Oh, honey, here comes a lullaby Your very own lullaby Oh, honey, here comes a lullaby Your very own lullaby

Roque stare at it in his hand silently for a moment, then back up at you.

"I'm gonna offer you something and I hope to God, you take it."

You silently frown at Roque's remark, sitting up straight to listen to what he had to say.

"How'd you like to start over? Brand new life, wherever, however you like, with none of this crap. Most of all, no Clay."

Curious of what Roque was getting at, you place the whiskey bottle on the ground.

"I'm listening..."

"I have a plan" Roque explains.

"One that'll get us our freedom back and involves enough money to start a completely new life far away from Clay's shitty ideas. You in?"

"You had me at, money and away from Clay" you state nodding in agreement.

Roque smirks at your response.

"Ok, here's the plan..."

NXT

#Lt. Col. Franklin Clay #clay x reader #clay x y/n #franklin clay #the losers (2010)#jeffrey dean morgan #jdm #clay

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cadavercowboy · 2 years

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𝙷𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚢 𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚞𝚎 (𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚊𝚕𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗)

✦ The Switch And The Spurs* (Reader Insert) — Henry returns to town to claim the body of his dead brother and deliver his widowed bride to her family. Things don’t go as smoothly as planned. — One-Shot

𝙻𝚝. 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚕 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚢 (𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚜)

✦ Winners And Losers* (Reader Insert) — If being an ex-Black Ops mercenary has taught you anything, it’s that you win some and you lose some. Colonel Clay could stand to learn that lesson, too. — Mini-Series

𝙽𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 (𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍)

✦ Cauterize* (Original Female Character) — Jo vs. The Apocalypse: What does it take to survive the end of the world? Can Jo navigate her way through hordes of flesh-hungry monsters while facing off against a bat-wielding lunatic and his band of not-so-merry men? — Series

✦ Head’s Up* (Reader Insert) — You take it upon yourself to get rid of Negan for the sake of your community, but you’re not entirely prepared for just how wicked and conniving he is. — One-Shot

✦ Kidnap An Angel (Lucille) — Negan wasn’t always such an asshole...not such a big one, anyway. — One-Shot

✦ Rebellion* (Reader Insert) — Stumbling into that trailer gave you a false sense of security until you realize you aren’t alone. — Mini-Series

✦ Redemption* (Reader Insert) — You never expected to see Negan again, but the apocalypse has a funny way of upending one’s plans. Your past has finally come calling and it’s bringing trouble with it. — Mini-Series

✦ Saint Is A Sinner Too* (Original Female Character) — Isabella Moretti is homeward bound to attend her estranged father’s funeral. When the presumed short trip meant for closure takes an unwelcome trek down memory lane, how will she deal with being plunged head-first into the life she’d long since left behind? — Series

✦ School’s Out (Original Female Character) — Bianca is a new teacher at the local highschool and Coach Negan seems to be the only person there willing to accept her as a friend. — One-Shot

✦ Unbreakable* (Michonne) — Michonne gets caught trying to hide supplies from the Saviors and when she fights back against Negan, things get out of hand. — One-Shot

✦ Wicked Games* (Reader Insert) — An unexpected game of pool with a leather-clad killer quickly lands you behind the 8-ball. — Series

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

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To Have Loved and Lost Part Seven

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Pairing: George Russell x Reader

Rating: M

Notes: Hiiiii welcome baaaaaack thank you for reaaaaadiiiiiiiing

Warnings: Angst–this one is reaaaaaal angsty this week y'all; Gilded Age Manners™; pining; The One That Got Away; not a traditional happy ending

Summary: Ada Brook’s voice was as bright as her eyes. She smiled at you widely as she spoke—she even went so far as to lean in just a touch, as though you were the oldest of friends, and sharing some great secret.

“Do you wish to go home?”

The question threw you for a number of reasons. Firstly, it had come from Franklin, and the tone of the query verged on compassionate. Secondly, you were no longer precisely certain where home was.

Stevensville was where you’d been born, and where you’d matured, but it had felt like a prison for much of your life. San Francisco had been the first place that you’d felt your life and choices had truly been your own, though it had been dimmed by dwindling social and marital prospects. Chicago had been interesting enough, but set as you were on your path, it had felt similar to your time in San Francisco. Albany had felt as confining as your time living with your mother had—your days and actions had been restrained by the critical eye of your family.

Your hand stilled where it was poised over your needlepoint, brow furrowing, head shaking a touch.

“Do you wish for me to leave?” You countered, glancing up at him.

“You’ve seemed listless this past week or so. The only time I’ve seen you in good humor is when you’re with Eleanor.”

And that had become a rarity of its down. Eleanor and Gladys had practically been joined at the hip since you’d gone to the Russell’s for tea. You often sent Kate along with her, leaving the house somewhat rudderless. You really did need to hire on more staff, but you’d been dragging your feet as of late.

“New York doesn’t seem to agree with you,” Franklin added. “If you wish to return to Albany, I would understand.”

Albany was the last place you wanted to go. In the city, with Franklin, you had purpose, something to work toward. All that awaited you in Albany was a slew of relatives that were at once derisive and pitying of your spinsterhood.

“Thank you, no," You shook your head. "I merely…I’ve had something of a cloud over my head this last week or so—It has passed now,” You hurried to fib as Franklin’s face twisted in confusion. “Regardless, I will remain here. Besides, how else will you make arrangements for the new home?”

“I’d manage,” Franklin grumbled, lifting his paper to hide his face. You rolled your eyes.

“I merely meant that you’ll be too busy with the tannery to arrange all of the details yourself.”

Franklin let out another grumble from behind the newspaper, and you sank back into your seat, resuming your needlepoint.

“...Franklin?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for asking.”

“...Mm.”

“Is this regarding the Hudson and Mohawk Rail Road?”

“No,” George shook his head, warily eyeing the door as Clay pulled it closed. “I need you to make a few inquiries for me—discreetly.”

“Of course,” Clay nodded. George could see the worry and intrigue in his loyal friend's eyes. Frankly, he felt quite a bit of both himself.

“I have a short list of names, and questions.” George reached into his pocket, drawing out the list he’d made up last night. On it was her name, and her mother’s, along with a few queries. “I need you to make the trip yourself. I don’t want this delegated to anyone else.”

“I understand,” Clay nodded, taking the slip from George. “Where will I be going?”

“Stevensville.”

“Marian tells us that you’ve come to us from Chicago!” Ada Brook’s voice was as bright as her eyes. She smiled at you widely as she spoke—she even went so far as to lean in just a touch, as though you were the oldest of friends, and sharing some great secret. You couldn’t help but smile at her warmth and the way it seemed to permeate the dark, stifled little sitting room.

“That is right,” You nod, glancing from Ada, to an encouragingly smiling Aurora and Marian, and ultimately, to a glowering Mrs. Van Rhijn. The old matriarch had hardly concealed her distaste for the entire affair since you’ve arrived, and she’d managed to marginally darken that afternoon's tea, even as Marian and Ada's probing questions and bright smiles pushed the conversation along. It was a wonder you'd been allowed in the house at all.

“Have you any plans to return there in the near future?” Mrs. Van Rhijn’s voice cut harshly across the room. You turned to her with a warm smile affixed on your lips.

“Not at the moment. I’m here to help Mr. Hughes set up his house before I return to our family in Albany.”

“Marian did tell us that, Agnes,” Ada reminded her sister lightly. You fought back a grin as Mrs. Van Rhijn cut her a sharp look in return. Before the conversation could continue, you heard a knock at the door. The group of you turned to find their stately looking butler at the door.

“Pardon the intrusion. There is a message for Mrs. Van Rhijn and Mrs. Fane.”

The two rose from their seats, offering gentle apologies and nods before leaving the room. Your gaze narrowed a touch. A message. For the two of them? A ruse, surely.

You turned back to find Marian and Ada watching you with patient smiles.

“They’re off to gossip about me, aren’t they?” You asked knowingly. Marian’s smile quirked at the question; Ada’s disappeared with an air of abject horror.

“Oh, no—Surely not!” She insisted. You chuckled softly, leaning back in your seat in.

“It’s quite alright if they have, Miss Brook. I’m used to the whispers.”

“Has it happened often? In Chicago and San Francisco?” Marian plied.

“Yes, but their social circles are hardly as gated as those here in New York,” You admitted. “There were some questions, of course, but hardly as many rounds of them. I feel as though I’m in a cordial boxing match with all of the 400.”

Ada looked at once scandalized and delighted, her mouth working wordless for just a second before she offered: “Well—If just anyone were allowed in, it could strain the social order.”

“I take no umbrage with it, Miss Brook," You reassured. "It was merely an unexpected consequence of my trip here.”

Ada’s smile flickered back into place, though it seemed far more uneasy.

“I must see what’s keeping them,” She mumbled, rising to her feet and hurrying from the room. You sighed softly, letting your eyes fall closed.

“I’m afraid I’ve upset her.”

“Surprised her, perhaps,” Marian conceded, “But I’ve learned in the few months that I’ve been here that Aunt Ada is made of stronger stuff than she lets on.”

You smiled, resting your elbow on the back of the couch and tipping your head into your palm.

“It is nice to see you again,” You offered. “If I may ask, where is Miss Scott?”

“She does not live her anymore,” Marian admitted. There was a heaviness to the words, something that made her brow crinkle just a touch. She pressed on: “Her family is from Brooklyn.”

“Ah.”

“If I may ask while the others are otherwise occupied—Did you know a Mr. Chamberlain while you were in Chicago?”

You frowned, your brow furrowing as you wracked your brain for the name. It was vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t make it stick to a face or a place.

“I don’t believe so.”

Marian nodded a little, lowering her gaze to her lap.

“I was merely curious. He’s the son of one of the other ladies you may meet at upcoming functions.”

“Mm…I could reach out to my acquaintances in Chicago and ask if any of them are familiar.”

“Oh, no! Please do not trouble them, or yourself,” Marian reassured, meeting your eyes again. There was something harried in her expression, as though she’d just opened a box that she wasn’t meant to look inside. You gave a small, reassuring nod.

“If you insist.”

“Will yourself and Mr. Hughes be attending the ball at Mrs. Fane’s next week?”

“Yes, we will,” You nodded. “I still need to have a dress made for it.”

“Did you not bring any from Albany?”

“I did not think I’d need one. I was only meant to assist Franklin in setting up his home and business. Now his business is in order, but his home is still in disarray.” You considered telling her the truth for a moment, then— “In truth, I’m not a fan of those functions. They’re nice to go to for a little while, but I’ve never been particularly good at formal dancing. And conversation there is always so stilted, and gossipy. I know that Franklin shall have to find his footing in New York, for his and Eleanor’s sakes, but…Well,” You sighed. “I never did suit polite society.”

Marian’s brow furrowed, and she rose from her chair to sit beside you on the settee.

“On the contrary,” She insisted, shaking her head. “You’ve been invited into one of the oldest and one of the newest homes in New York. You’ve forged so many relationships, and in such a short period of time. Mr. Hughes and Eleanor are lucky to have you in their corner.”

You couldn’t help but smile as the sentiment burrowed its way into your chest. You so rarely received encouragement or thanks of this kind from your family. The recognition made tears spring up in your eyes. You drew in a deep breath to steady yourself, lowering your gaze to the velvet as you reached out, gently patting Marian’s hand.

“You have a marvelous and kind soul, Miss Brook,” You said softly. You watched as she took hold of your hand in both of hers, giving it a soft squeeze.

“If we are to be friends, you must call me Marian.”

“Did you like her?”

The question that Marian put to Ada seemed to set a fluttering about in her aunt. She hadn't dared ask it at dinner, lest they both receive the wrath of Aunt Agnes. Now she watched, amused, as Ada stood from her vanity, as if looking for something. When she could no longer stall, Ada turned to where Marian sat at the end of her bed.

“She is…A very interesting person,” Ada finally managed.

“I think she is, too,” Marian nodded. “If she did not have her experience and fortitude, I’d worry this city would chew her up and spit her out.”

“Marian,” Ada chastised, lowering herself back down onto her vanity chair. “That is not polite.”

Marian frowned, drawing her knees up to her chest as she watched Aunt Ada.

“Did you feel any…Kinship?” She hedged.

“Do you mean because we are both spinsters?” Ada arched a brow at Marian in the mirror, and the look made Marian feel cowed and shamed. Ada answered nevertheless: “It seems that we have walked very different paths in life.”

“I wonder if there was someone in her past,” Marian let her gaze drift. “Some great love—Perhaps the man didn’t rise to her family’s expectations.”

“Or perhaps she chose work with her cousin over conventional safety,” Ada offered. “She spoke very highly of him, and seemed knowledgeable regarding his business.”

Marian hummed in soft agreement. “I don’t think Aunt Agnes liked her very much.”

Ada twisted in her seat, eyeing Marian. “You know how Agnes feels about the new people.”

“She made an expectation for Mrs. Russell.”

“Only because Mrs. Astor forced her hand. She will not be so lenient next time—And neither will Mrs. Astor.”

Tag list: @foxilayde ; @wretchedwisteria ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @amneris21

#George Russell x Reader #George Russell x You #George Russell/Reader #George Russell/You #George Russell fic #George Russell imagine #George Russell the gilded age #To Have Loved and Lost

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smutsonian · 4 years

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nobody out there wants to write a franklin clay x reader fic? 🥺

#franklin clay x reader #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #smh smh

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crzcorgi · 5 years

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I don't wanna bother you Clay but my neighbor is being a real creep and keeps coming on over and bothering me. Think you could come over and get him to lay off? If you can't, maybe you could send one of the guys?

Okay darlin’, I’m almost to your place right now. Seems your neighbor and I need to have a discussion. He seems to be a bit confused about how a gentleman treats a lady.

I’m here sweetheart, okay, which door is his? To your right or left? I’m knocking and I hear footsteps. I’m gonna let you go.

It’s me doll, I can see you checking, good girl. Aww, it’s okay, let’s get inside. He’s taken care of, he won’t be bothering you anymore. Just sit, I’m going to grab us both a drink.

I’m staying here tonight, and if you think you need me here longer, I’ll stay. My guess is he might be looking for new accommodations soon, but you’re safe sweet girl. But I understand if you’re still hesitant.

So I’m just gonna kick back and watch some mindless shit on the tv. You go on and do whatever you normally would, don’t let me bother you. No need to entertain me, but I wouldn’t complain if you chose to just hang out with this old soldier.

You’re okay darlin’, you are safe. I’m here. And I’ll be here for as long as you need, or want me.

My love,

Franklin

#jdm takeover #anon request #lt col franklin clay #franklin clay #clay x reader #franklin clay x reader #the losers fanfiction #crzcorgi requests #jeffrey dean morgan #crzcorgi crz 4 jdm

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kthynes · 3 years

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hey! i have a tiktok imagine lol

maybe where reader does the tiktok prank on chris where you wipe of your boyfriends kiss to see how he reacts HAHA

alright that’s all! i love your work : )

miss me, kiss me, don't you dare diss me

pairing: jake jensen x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors dni ; some swearing, implied smut

author's note: because I don't write CE/rpf I went about amending this request (fret not the original concept stands!). So please enjoy my first attempt at writing Jensen and let me know what you think! Also to nonnie - I'm glad you love my work, truly the best kind of compliment a “writer” can get and so I appreciate you!

Reblogs, likes and comments are encouraged! And as self explanatory as it should be, please do not copy and/or translate my works onto any other platforms. Thanksies :)))))

This is not beta'd - any mistakes are my own.

taglist: @patzammit @mrs-djokovic

I do not own this gif - credit goes to the righful owner

Everyone was in their respective cruiser. You were lucky enough to ride shotgun in the open wrangler, taking in the warm breeze that swirled around the island bay.

It was a another routine date night but with the whole gang in tow. Jensen wanted to hit up a local pub that was hosting a League of Legends night - whatever that meant. The only thing you were absolutely sure of was that the drinks were strong and the food was plentiful which is why almost everyone acquiesced.

So when day turned to night, you came out of being a switchboard attendant and eagerly awaited for your goof in variant disguise to arrive while you chose to be in your best ascribed element.

You were hyper focused on your phone camera; eyeing the bang out "make up" job, courtesy of Aisha who by way took assault of your face.

Apart from the camo and Franklin Sport stickers, you demised a different aesthetic this time.

With bewilderment, you donned partially red glossy lips, pouty and plump which came in contrast with the light smearing of skin tint that radiated your natural beauty. Aisha had perfectly curated this façade and you were slightly beheld by her talents.

You definitely owed her some liquid cocaine. Maybe at some fraction or another.

"You're over your head aren't ya Buzzy?" Clay hoists up his forearms against the doorframe and leans into the Jeep, snarling as per usual. You manage to scoff at him, keeping your phone pressed against your chest and away from his vices.

Buzzy. That was your given pseudonym, an onomatopoeia for a bee. You were meant to be drilling mind noise, fracking on the enemies weakness and sometimes being a rueful distraction. At least that's what Clay thought of you.

"Not for you to leer. Is there something I can help you with?" You snap politely at the de facto leader.

"Yeah why him?" Clay was meant to be your adversary but instead he wore his frayed heart on his sleeve and made it abundantly known as to how much he wanted you all for himself.

"Here we go again." You sing and groan.

"Oh what now. You really think he's it for you?" Clay gets up in your face, nearly stealing your air and encroaching your personal bubble. You smell the stench of fresh Corralejo reeking his vernacular and that explained for all the inundated bravado.

You scrunch your nose up at him, unable to further palpate the ardent odor. "I'm not looking to be with a synthetic Alpha. Or at least the makings of one." You stifle with high ground.

"Oh hoh, hoh! Is that what you think of me darling?" He bends back on his knees and ducks at your advances with forced laughter.

"What is your deal chapo?" The discordance you both shared was passive aggressive and felt at the pews.

"One day, y'hear me." He opaquely reminds you, eyes darkened with unyielding pursuit.

"Nay say."

“What is that damn boy up to? And Coug? He should know better.” Roque fusses impatiently, you don’t bother to look his way as he came up from the sunroof. "Seriously?"

“Ayo Y/L/N! He’s talking to you.” Pooch scrounges on your neglect.

“I know as much as you do, Poochie.” You answer while fixated on posing up in front of the camera.

"You are just like him." Pooch hisses after hearing another iteration of his nickname. Clay pats him on his shoulder, reaffirming his pity with a calming gesture. "God I hate it here."

"You'll be fine." Clay pulls a toke from the joint that was idly being passed around.

The drug was starting to wear on and you were facing an empty industrial complex where Jensen had his hideaway tech lab. No one was allowed in so you all had to wait it out.

And what was supposed to be a 10 minute wait turned into an hour long debacle, each second was clawing on someone's nerves.

"Hey hey, I'm so sorry about that. Picked up a game of Battleship and then after that I got caught up in the bathroom." Jensen arrives out of breath while yanking up his fly in the process. Cougar shook his head and mentioned something in Spanish while approaching Pooch who instantly dabbed him up.

"Don't tell me you still gotta jerk off when you have her around?" Roque scintillates with confusion as the whole gangs snickers.

"That wasn't it." Jensen sternly spouts while denying the half truths. “No I just had to really—“

"A release is still a release my guy." Pooch offers over him on the side, thwarting his partner as a reminder.

"You're right. There's never really a time and place is there?" Roque adds lowly as everyone else scatters.

"Alright gang let's head out." Clay enforces while he reluctantly looks to his little lady friend in the passenger seat. She's pretty and good enough for him, not his first choice and definitely not Aisha but still a reasonable fuck. They were both chatting away while you’re accompanied by your regular, one who doesn't pick up on social cues all too well but does his due diligence.

"I am so ready to League of Legends up in this bitch!" Jensen is amped as he swings right into the drivers seat. He breathlessly puckers his face while glancing at your sunken form. You're dressed like Lara Croft, wearing nothing but a low cut black tank and some denim shorts.

Jensen feels the wanton heat as he quickly licks his lips with devotion before starting up the jeep that rumbles and jolts back to life.

“Hey you.” He awkwardly greets you with a twitching smile.

You eye him up and down, wordlessly chiding him for his tardiness. "Unbelievable."

"What? I'm here now." He exasperates with a grin, knowing your exact torture and the whole play by play. "Also, I wasn't jerking off by the way. I just had to really pee... like a race horse."

"So he says." You merit while holding up your phone camera again. You pretend to fix your hair and blot your lips, tiring out a bored look on your face. Jensen frowns and studies your high strung schlump as he reverses out of the vacant lot.

"Can I get a kiss at least?" He goads you while turning the wheel around. You distractedly stick your lips out for him and he eagerly smacks his mouth against yours for a quick peck that settles with the dust.

“Actually that wasn’t enough, c’mere.” He playfully contemplates, bracing your jaw for another bruising kiss.

This kiss lasted more than a fraction of a second and when you both pulled away Jensen was left all bashful, shoulders rolled back to confer his doings.

"That's more like it." He triumphs, manually cranking the gear shift with a beaming mega watt smile.

"Mhm yeah." You repulsed under your breath while using the back of your hand to swipe your mouth and rid his kiss, as a joke.

"You're kidding me." His face dropped. You ignored him and went back to scrolling through your phone. "Did you just really do that?"

"What's going on JayJay?" Pooch intercepts through the built in walkie.

"I can't believe you!" Jensen squeaks as if you had kicked a newborn puppy into the throes of time and space. Or even worse stomped on his gaming PC which he took the liberty to name it Yolanda.

"Seems like there’s trouble in paradise. Can't trust these two shakers." Roque quips from his piece. "Hey Cougar you might wanna stall a tracker and run it while you can."

"On it chief." The quietest member pledges to get his task done and it's the first and last time you hear of him.

"That's it... I'm taking a detour guys." Jensen curtly informs his teammates with vengeance and you snap him an incredulous look. "I don't know through what way, just don’t ask!”

"What the heck!" You holler, tightly gripping onto the armrests as your boyfriend accelerates on a high speed conquest.

"Great we got Scully and Mulder on the run." Clay states with displeasure even though you are the prime recipient of his contempt.

"We'll be there." You prompt into the intercom and they all laugh boisterously, each vowing a 'yeah right.' "Just re-route us back, Jake. Jake! Oh my god.” You growl into the palm of your hands.

"Have fun you two." Aisha got it. Jensen coyly smirks, wiggling his brows at you while fully releasing his foot on the gas and almost swerving right into a ditch as he tries to woo you.

"I'm gonna die you guys!" You loudly profess to static noise.

“And what a way to go!”

Jensen shakes his head before he veers off, yanks down the gear shift and parks up on the sideroads. He turns his body to better face you, one hand on the wheel while his other arm is draped over the leather seating behind you. "Now how about we try that again."

"We're not doing this right now." You caution him the minute you catch your breath.

"Why not?" He turned off the running ignition just to sing to you. "Whyyyy not."

"Because Steve Perry do you see where we are?" You flail your arm around at the desolate backroads, somewhere in the countryside where the street lights were shot out and not a single soul was heard by.

"You two are on Sideroad 50, just 4 miles away from Chuck and Murrey's Roadhouse." Cougar makes the conscience effort to relay this information and you tsk at his meandering capability. “We should be expecting you in about 20 minutes?”

“Can’t say.” Jensen makes a funny thinking face and taps a finger against his chin.

"Thanks Coug, that'll be all." You boom begrudgingly, undoing your seatbelt and going into attack mode.

"Anytime mija." Once his partner clocked out, Jensen flipped the switch and you immediately caught him off guard by holding him back and jumping into his lap in a matter of seconds.

"Oh."

"Is this what you had in mind?" You straddle him with your head tilted to the side while his pawing hands gripped the divot between your hips and the swell of your thighs.

"I don't know Buzzy you're going to have to do a lot more than- oof." He groans the second you lift your bum and roughly ground back into his crotch, trying to situate yourself in the open qualms of Roque's getaway Jeep.

"OK so I had that coming. Not that I don’t mind.” He whined, pushing his glasses back up and keeping them from slipping down the bridge of his sweaty nose. “This is great. Y-You’re great.”

"Mhm." You murmur a little too sweetly as he rested his head back, attempting to fiend off a growing erection that you feel thaw at full mast.

You pressed insinuatingly hot, open mouthed kisses down the column of his neck, consolidating the entire mishap and eager to ruck up an orgy.

His hands kept you firmly planted as you indistinctively ground into him, rocking back and forth, building up your inner release along with his. Your kisses are ravaging him and in order to suppress his deep seeded moans he began to sprout nonsense.

“Did you know you that you are 13.8% more likely to die on your birthday. I wonder what the ratio is like when you're having sex?" His Adam's apple bobbed down and back up again as he gulped, clearly riddled with anticipation.

"Wouldn't you like to know." You huffed while trying to pull off his belt with haste. You needed to feel him, raw and wholly. So you spare him a heads up before his cock got encased, impaled and sodden. “Now if you don’t mind…”

“Abso-fucking-lutely. You don’t need to ask me twice babes.” He huzzahs with a faltering laugh, helping you help him by undoing his cargo shorts. "Oh thank god I went commando!"

And so for the rest of the night, it's missionary. He bottoms out in you, spewing more trivial knowledge while trying out all sorts of back breaking positions. The pub doesn't miss you but you sure as hell make the most out of the awkward backseat fucking that happens around a nearby ditch; ensuing the fun until one of you gets paged by Clay.

#chris evans #jake jensen x you #jake jensen smut

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blurry-fics · 5 years

Text

Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2122

Author’s Note: A little disclaimer - I have never been to Ohio so I have no idea what ~fun things~ there are to do there so I looked at Trip Advisor (oh man, that sounds dorky). Regardless, this is another one of my favorite chapters, so I hope all of you love it as much as I do 💛

You were sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when the front door swung open. Josh walked inside, carrying a variety of bags in his arms. He smiled once he saw you.

“Morning, Y/N/N,” he smiled.

“Where have you been all day?” you asked.

“I had some errands to run. Groceries and training and stuff.”

You nodded and got up to follow him into the kitchen. He had set all of his bags on the counter and you began to look through them all to see what kind of food he had brought home.

Living with Josh had turned out to be a lot less stressful that you had expected. It had only been a couple days since you arrived home from tour, but it was already much better than living with Matthew. Aside from the fact that Josh’s house was much bigger, he was also a much better roommate. Not to mention that you were happy to have so much alone time with him.

“I got you a present,” he grinned.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “What did you get?”

He reached into one of the bags and pulled out a small plant in a little clay pot. A smile quickly spread across your face.

“I know your room still doesn’t have that many decorations in it and when I saw this, it just reminded me of you. The best part is that it’s fake, so it won’t die when we have to leave next week.”

“I love it,” you smiled, reaching out and taking it from him. “I’ll go put it in my room right now.”

You walked down the hallway, carrying the small little plant in your hands. It would be nice to finally have something in your room besides furniture and a few pictures. After a quick glance around the room, you decided that it was best suited on your bedside table near the lamp.

“Did you find a place for it?” Josh asked as you walked back into the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s on the bedside table.”

“Nice,” he smiled.

You tried not to stare at him too long, but it was hard when he had that adorable smile on his face. Your feelings had only continued to grow stronger as the tour went along, and now you found yourself admiring almost any little thing he did. It was starting to take over your mind.

“Do you want any help with the groceries?” you asked.

He looked over his shoulder at all the food for a moment, “Uh, sure. Do you know where stuff goes?”

“Not really,” you laughed as you grabbed a bag of chips.

“Great,” Josh laughed along with you.

“Hey, if I’m going to be living her for an indefinite amount of time, then I need to learn where everything goes eventually.”

“I suppose that’s better than you using not knowing where anything goes as an excuse to not help around the house,” Josh said as he put some food in one of the taller cabinets.

“Exactly! Now where do these go?”

“Second shelf,” he said, pointing to a cupboard on the other side of the kitchen.

You hummed quietly to yourself as you continued to put away things that you knew the place of. It wasn’t much, but Josh seemed to appreciate the help.

“Oh, Y/N/N,” Josh said suddenly.

“Yeah?”

Josh grabbed the last bit of groceries, so you gathered up the bags and put them with the others.

“One of our friends is having a party tomorrow to celebrate the success of the first part of the tour. Would you be interested in going?”

You grabbed the end of your shirt and began to play with it, “Is Tyler going?”

“Yeah. He’s going to be the designated driver, if that influences your decision at all.”

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I’ve never been big on parties.”

Josh pulled puppy dog eyes on you and dramatically stuck out his bottom lip, “Please, Y/N/N?”

“Josh, I don’t know.”

“It won’t be as much fun without you.”

How were you supposed to say no to that?

“Alright, I’ll go to the party.”

“Yes,” Josh grinned. He walked around the counter and put an arm around you, pulling you into his side, “We’re going to have a great time.”

“If not, you owe me ten bucks,” you grinned, ducking under Josh’s arm and heading back towards the living room.

“If it’s really that bad, then you can just have Tyler drop you off back here. The party can’t be more than a twenty minute drive away.”

“You’ve already convinced me, Josh. Don’t make me change my mind.”

Josh nodded and pretended to zip his mouth closed. You took a seat on the couch but Josh remained standing, looking lost in thought.

“You alright?” you asked.

He blinked a couple times, “Yeah, I’m good. I’m going to head upstairs and shower.”

“Don’t have too much fun without me.”

You winced as soon as the words left your mouth. Leave it to you to say something embarrassing like that.

“No promises,” he smirked, shooting you a quick wink.

You were suddenly very glad that his back was to you so that he wouldn’t see the blush on your cheeks.

“Let’s do something,” Josh said from the other end of the couch.

“Huh?” you asked, looking up from the book that you were reading.

“Let’s do something,” he repeated, looking straight at you. “It’s only noon, we have plenty of time to go out and do something.”

“What did you have in mind?”

He shrugged, “I was hoping you would have an idea.”

“I do have an idea,” you grinned, holding up the book in your lap.

“Come on, Y/N/N,” he pouted at you. “We can’t read together.”

“Sure we can. I sit here and read and you sit there and read,” you laughed.

He rolled his eyes and scooted down the couch, grabbing the book from your lap and tossing it onto the coffee table.

“Josh!” you grumbled. “I lost my page.”

“That’s what you get for being difficult,” he laughed, shoving your leg lightly.

“Let me go grab a sweatshirt and I’ll try and come up with some ideas.”

You grabbed your book off the table and headed down the hallway towards your room. Since you were still relatively new to Ohio, you didn’t really have any ideas about what to do in Columbus. Josh should be the one coming up with ideas. He had lived here all his life, after all.

You tossed your book onto the bed and walked over to the dresser. Your black tour hoodie was sitting at the top of the drawer, so you grabbed that and pulled it on over your shirt. It was cheesy to wear your employer’s sweatshirt--especially when you were walking around with one of them--, but it kept you warm so you didn’t mind.

“Nice sweatshirt,” Josh laughed as you walked back into the room.

“Shut up,” you grinned, taking a seat on the couch. “Did you come up with any ideas?”

“No. Did you?”

You shook your head, “Is Tyler free today?”

“I have no idea, but I, uh, I was kind of thinking we could hang out just the two of us today?”

Your heart skipped a beat, “I’d like that. We just have to think of something first.”

“Yeah,” he smiled.

“Alright, there has to be some place in Columbus that you want to show me. We’ve already been to your favorite pizza place. Where else do you like to go?”

Josh turned to you with wide eyes, “Y/N/N, you’re a genius!”

“I am?”

“Yeah, I know exactly where we’re going to go,” he said, standing up from the couch. “Let me grab a jacket.”

You got up and pulled on your shoes while you waited for Josh. He returned a few moments later, now wearing a plain hoodie over his dark jeans.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” you asked.

“Nope,” he grinned, grabbing his keys and pulling on his own shoes. “Come on.”

You followed Josh out to the car and hopped into the passenger seat, hoping that it wasn’t a mistake.

You arrived at your destination twenty minutes later. Josh had a huge smile on his face as he got out of the car and led you towards the building in front of you.

“Where are we?” you asked, looking around for any sign that would indicate where you were.

“You don’t know?” Josh asked. You shook your head. “I thought for sure that Matthew would have taken you here when you moved This is one of the most popular places in Columbus.”

“Are you kidding?” you scoffed. “Matthew never took me anywhere.”

“Well this is the Franklin Park Conservatory,” Josh said, glancing back over his shoulder at you. “I think you’ll like it.”

You bounced on your toes while you waited for Josh to buy you two entry. A few people gave you weird looks, but you brushed it off.

“Do you trust me?” Josh asked, looking to you with one eyebrow raised.

“Of course I do,” you answered, trying to mask the nervousness in your voice.

“Close your eyes.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Why?”

He smiled, “You have to trust me.”

You nodded and closed your eyes. Josh reached out and gently grabbed one of your wrists, guiding your hand up to wrap around his arm. Even though you had been in close contact with Josh numerous times before, there was something about not being able to see what was going on that was making you extra nervous.

“Ready?” he said.

“For what?” you asked, turning in his general direction.

“To walk.”

“Right. Yeah, I’m ready.”

It took you a second to match Josh’s walking pace, but you eventually settled into a comfortable rhythm. Your hand was wrapped tightly around his bicep in order to keep yourself from falling over.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“You’ll see in a second.”

“Are we almost there?”

“Yes.”

You felt a cool breeze as Josh opened a door. He carefully led you through the doorway, although you still managed to bump your hip into the frame.

“Are people looking at me?” you whispered.

“You’ve gotten a few weird looks, yeah,” Josh laughed.

“Oops,” you laughed nervously, feeling color rise to your cheeks.

“Ok, are you ready to open your eyes?”

“I can open them?”

“Yeah.”

You opened your eyes, blinking a few times to allow them to adjust to the bright light. Once you could see properly, you let out a little gasp. In front of you was a garden full of multicolored flowers and sculptures. People wandered through the plants on little pathways, taking time to admire everything around them. It was one of the most beautiful places you had seen, and you suddenly wished that you had your camera.

“This is amazing!” you beamed, turning to Josh. “I’m so glad you brought me here.”

“You like it?”

“Like it? Josh, this is gorgeous. I wish you had told me to bring my camera.”

“It didn’t even cross my mind.”

“That’s ok,” you said, starting to walk down a nearby path. “It’s just an excuse for us to come back.”

“Exactly.”

You and Josh wandered through the conservatory until you eventually got too cold and hungry to keep going. He had suggested that you two pick up some food on the way home and then watch movies all night, to which you had happily agreed. Tyler had also texted asking what you two were up to, and you were excited to spend the night with your two favorite boys.

Even though you had been hesitant to leave the house at first, hanging out with Josh had been a great idea. You two had acted like idiots as you moved throughout the conservatory, cracking jokes at one another’s expense and acting like kids. For awhile, you had forgotten that you two weren’t on a date, even though deep down you knew that Josh didn’t view it the same way.

“Hey, Y/N?” Josh said.

You pulled your eyes away from the window and turned to face him in the driver’s seat, “Yeah?”

“It was fun hanging out with you today.”

“Yeah, I had a really good time. Thanks for taking me to the conservatory.”

“It was no problem,” he smiled. “Kinda nice to go out and do something just the two of us, huh?”

Your stomach flipped, “Yeah, it was.”

Josh smiled and nodded. You turned back to the window and tried your best to hide the huge smile on your face. Maybe you two didn’t feel so different, after all.

Tags (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@svintsandghosts @a-stumpsexuals-world @ohprettyweeper @jigglypuff1999 @simonsbluee @beanfic @abandonedwhxre

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holylulusworld · 9 months

Text

D.I.L.F. (1) - The plan

Summary: Your mother has a new love interest. You are stuck with her boyfriend.

Square filled for @tonystarkbingo (Mark VII): R2: Standing on tiptoe

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!Reader (for now...)

Characters: Franklin Clay (the losers)

Warnings: implied/intended cheating, heavy daddy kink, mentions of sex toys, mentions of anal sex (no description)

D.I.L.F. masterlist

<< Prologue

Tony sips at his drink. It’s another day later, and Clay won’t stop talking about you.

“Clay, stop with the nonsense. I can’t have a revenge fuck with my girlfriend’s daughter. She’s a sweet girl, and yes, I want to put my hands on her but I’m not that kind of bastard.”

“Why haven’t I met her yet? Where are you hiding your sweet bug?” Clay grins. “Do you want to play hide and seek with her?”

“No…I just,” Tony sighs deeply. “How can I even think of putting my hand on Y/N when I’m still with her mom? Cheating is not my style.”

“Break up with the mom then and bang the daughter,” Clay crudely replies. He cups his crotch and imagines having his way with you too. He saw pictures of you on Tony’s phone and can’t wait to get his pound of flesh.

“I can’t just break up with her out of the blue. I’ll be waiting for her to come back from her trip and try to…” Tony empties the rest of his drink.

“Do you even know what she’s doing right now? Maybe she’s spending all of your money, bro. You are nagging about your girlfriend for months. I know you’re not happy. But maybe, just maybe, fucking her daughter is going to help you heal.” Clay smirks darkly. “I bet her pussy will make you smile.”

“I know exactly what she’s doing,” Tony sighs deeply. He’s just done looking for the right partner. This time he believed it was going to last longer than a few months. Your mother seemed to like him for more than his money and reputation. “Here…I keep tabs on her. I’m not an idiot.”

Tony hands his friend his tablet. “What are we watching, man?” Clay jokes as he presses play to watch the footage Tony recorded this morning. It shows your mom fucking the pool boy at an expensive wellness hotel. “The pool boy, what a cliché,” Clay sneers.

“And imagine, she used my credit card,” Tony chuckles humorlessly. “She’s not the smartest and still, she managed to worm her way into my life. I can’t believe I fell for her lies.”

“Unlike your ripe stepdaughter,” Clay purrs. “Just look at her. She’s smart, not too young. I bet she’s tight too. Why don’t you pay mommy back by fucking her sweet…offspring…”

“I can’t, and you know it.” Tony inhales sharply. He runs one hand down his face. “I will wait for Y/M/N to come back and confront her. This will end now.”

“Fuck. No. I can’t,” Tony groans deeply. He broke all his rules and promises to himself and hacked into your online diary. In not one night, he read about all your dirty and kinky fantasies. And most of them involve him.

“What’s wrong, Tony?” Clay cocks his head. He looks up from his phone, frowning deeply. “You look like you just creamed your pants.”

“I found her diary.”

“Diary?” Clay laughs. “Did you look under her pillow to find it or what?”

“No…she has an online diary. I was being nosy and found it. She…she wants me to be her daddy…” Tony licks his lips. “And I don’t mean in an innocent way. She has fantasies of fucking machines I will build only for her. She wants me to drill her ass while one of the toys I will build tortures her clit.”

“Holy fuck, Tony! That’s the holy grail! Take a chance on her,” Clay encourages his friend to finally take what he wants.

“She sketched the machines and toys, Clay. Even a machine to toy with nipples. Y/N has had fantasies about me and my machines for months. I don’t know what to do.”

“Fuck her. Give her what she needs.”

“I can’t tell her that I read her diary. She’ll hate me.”

“Hmm…how about this,” Clay leans forward and folds his hands on the table. “You always invent new things, right? What if you tell her that you want to invest in a new branch – sex toys!”

“What?” Tony blinks a few times. “I cannot build sex toys. Everyone will laugh about—” He grins. “Ah, I get it now. I can ask her for help. Maybe she will become my tester.”

“Exactly.”

“You dirty bastard.” Tony pats his friend on the shoulder.

“At your service, Mr. Stark,” Clay chuckles. “But remember, I still want a piece of her. If she’s open to having two daddies…”

“Mom, you can’t just run off and leave Tony after he invited you to spend the weekend with him,” you huff as your mother tries to hang up the phone. “Listen, he won’t be around for much longer if you keep on doing this all the time.”

You roll your eyes as she comes up with yet another excuse for not being around. She talks and talks until you cut her off. “Yeah, you know. You wouldn’t know you’ve got a good man by your side if he bit you in the ass.”

She hangs up. Your mother never was the type to listen or to admit a mistake.

“Just hang up. I’ll tell Tony you miss him.”

Falling back onto the bed in the guest room Tony offered to you, you groan loudly.

“Can I come in?” Tony calls from outside the room. It’s the worst moment to disturb you. What are you going to tell him? The truth, or a lie to not hurt him.

“Come in.”

“Hey, uh—do you have a moment?” He pokes his head into the room. “I want to ask for your opinion.”

“Sure, come in. I got nothing else to do. Mom just canceled our plans too. She’s…” you huff. “Forget it.”

“Busy with her boy toy?” Tony steps inside the room. He’s not in a suit today he wears jeans and a Black Sabbath shirt. You like this style. He looks ready to get eaten and you need to remind yourself once again, he’s off limits.

“You know?”

He shrugs.

“What do you want to talk about, Tony?” You swing your legs out of the bed to get up. “Do you want to have this swim contest now?”

“No. I have an offer to take over a company and to invent new products.”

“Oh…what kind of products?” You excitedly ask. Tony barely talks about his business and inventions with you. He knows how passionate you are about engineering, but didn’t ask you to come to his lab yet.

“Sex toys,” he says, making you choke on air. You cough and look at him, bewildered and shocked. “They want me to invent a…wait.” Tony unlocks his phone to look at a non-existent document. “I recite, a clit toy making a girl go crazy. Something for anal pleasure and nipple play.”

You whimper. “I-I…”

He smirks cockily. “Will you help me, and become my tester?”

“Tester…for the sex toys you’ll invent?”

“So…is that a yes?” Tony steps closer to cup your cheek. “Say yes, and I will fulfill all of your desires. Your daddy will take good care of you…” He dips his head to whisper in your ear. “And I don’t mean your deadbeat of a father…”

You blink a few times. Did he mean what he said? Is he going to be your daddy from now on?

Questions swirl in your mind as you stand on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips.

“Only if you break up with mommy first…”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#tonystarkbingomarkvii #tonystarkbingo #tony stark #franklin clay #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tw: daddy kink #D.I.L.F. (1) - The plan

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peyton-warren · 2 years

Text

Untitled Jake Jensen Comfort Fic Ask.

Well Comfort!Anon. I deleted my post in response to your ask in frustration cuz of my lack of tumblr skills and now I’ve lost your ask. Lemme try again.

I started your requested fic, within a day or two of your request. But I’ve been stuck with a hard core case of writers block for the past few (4) months.

However to hopefully tide you over til I can make the rest of it work out, here is a the beginning of the fic. It’s a lil darker than the previous comfort Jake Jensen fic. I hope you like it. Takes place pre-movie.

“Clay?” You answered your phone with a slight panic in your voice. Your boyfriend and his team weren't due back for another week. And now his superior was calling you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” the colonel started, his voice tight, making your stomach drop to your toes.

You sat up from the couch, suddenly very attentive to the whiskey soaked voice on the other end of the phone. “What’s going on? Is it…”

“Bad,” he interrupted, sending your mind into a million different directions about what could have happened to Jake and his team. Since Clay was calling, you figured at least Jake was alive, right? That was a safe assumption? Right?

“You with me, hon?” Clay asked, his voice doubly concerned as he cut through your thoughts.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you nod once before remembering he couldn’t see you. “Is he ok?” You mean, clearly he wasn’t. You just didn’t know how to ask or what you could ask.

You heard a deep draw of breath and followed by a hefty exhale, must not be good at all if Colonel was smoking again. “Physically he’s fine, he’s fine.” Another inhale with an exhale chaser. “Shit went down badly. And Jensen is taking it bad. We all are, really but he more so than the rest of us.”

Your eyes begin to mist at the sound of Clay’s voice crackling at the end. “Can you tell me anything more?” you gently prod, hoping for a little more information. “What do I need to know?”

Clay cleared his throat and was silent for a moment. “Just know it was in no way his fault, but he blames himself.”

Of course he does, you thought to yourself. It’s why you love Jacob Jensen, his heart is bigger than his damn head and if someone else got hurt on his watch-

“We are all fine,” Clay interrupts again, making you realize your inner monologue had actually escaped out of your mouth. “Again physically,” he corrected.

“Alright,” you started only to be surprised by a double resounding knock on your front door, your head spinning quickly. You saw a couple shadows on the porch.

“That’ll be Pooch and Cougar with our boy,” Clay informs you. “We loaded him up quick before any of the army shrinks could lay eyes on him.”

You swallowed hard, standing up and slowly walking to the front door. “What the fuck happened, Clay?” you asked knowing he couldn’t give you much of any answer.

“Just take care of him, hon,” Clay requested. “Call me or Roque if you need an assist. Any time at all, you hear me?”

You nod at the authoritative voice as you unlock the door. “Yeah,” you say softly as you open the door.

#Comfort!anon #anon #anon request #jake jensen angst #Jake Jensen comfort #chris evans #jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #franklin clay #the losers movie #the losers #the losers (2010)#fic snippet #fic teaser #someone help a girl who can’t make tumblr cuts to save her ass #please help

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integra1127grimmreaper · 9 months

Text

Let's Start Over

Sad Alt Ending

Clay Masterlist

Warning: violence, angst, mention of murder & attempted suicide, character death

A/N: Because @scorpioempress begged me for a happy ending... Here ya go luv!

Thank you to @chalahyung01 for the ideas in order to make this chapter! 💖

Summary: Alterative ending to Doesn't Even Matter. Chapter inspired by the song - It's Not Over by Daughtry. A surprising twist in plans comes forward.

You silently followed behind Roque and Wade as they made their way toward the person you assumed to be Max, standing inside a container.

"So, you're Max?" Roque loudly remarks and the man turns around.

"Welcome to the team..." he smiles in response, turning his attention to you then.

"And who might this lovely lady be?"

"She's with me" Roque replies.

Max narrows his eyes, silently studying you for a moment, causing your skin to crawl at the way he looked at you. After a few more moments of staring, Max turns to Wade, silently nodding at him.

"Supervise the loading of the money, onto our plane" Wade instructs Roque.

"What do you mean?" the weapons dealer stares at Wade in confusion.

Roque and you silently watch the interaction for a second and turn to do what was ordered.

"Not you..." Wade calls out, pointing at you.

"You, stay here."

Roque and you silently stare at him, then at each other. Roque steps closer to you, whispering into your ear.

"If the shit hits, head for the plane."

You silently nod at him, moving back toward the container while he heads to the plane.

You didn't like this one bit.

You stood silently watching the interaction between Max and the weapons dealer when suddenly a massive explosion goes off on the opposite side of the port.

"What the fuck was that?" Wade yells out as Max's men points their weapons onto the dealer's men.

"I'm gonna need you to arm this device right now" Max calmly orders the dealer.

"Extremists are about to be framed for cratering the great port of L.A."

"You're insane!" the dealer responds in disbelief.

Eyes widening in shock, you take a small step back.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Max rants on about it being for the greater good, and you knew you had to do something to stop his madness.

Taking slow steps backwards, you slip your weapon out, making sure to keep an eye on everyone as you try to think of a plan to stop Max.

Just as you were about to make your move, the sound of the gate being crashed into was heard and Wade and his men began shooting towards an oncoming van.

You let out a sigh of relief when seeing the team rushing out of it and returning fire.

Thank God... even though you had turned sides, you never wished any harm to Pooch, Jensen and Cougar.

You take cover, taking out a few guards that the team had missed.

"Y/N! Get over here!" Roque calls out to from the plane, while the money was still being loaded.

You stood frozen; torn between wanting to get the hell out of there and making sure your friends were safe.

Pooch had a wife and a baby on the way, Jensen had niece and Cougar had family that loved him, Clay, you didn't give a fuck about anymore... at least that's what you tell yourself.

You were in a complete daze as you watched your friends fight off gun fire from all directions. Having made your mind up to help them, you about to go to them but then you saw her.

Aisha... but of course, Clay would gladly take is lover back into the fold. Fuck it... you decide, falling back and wait until you had a clear opening to head to the plane so that you and Roque could get the hell out of there.

You watch as Roque yells orders into the plane, firing his weapon in Clay's direction and he returns it. They soon run out of bullets and Roque throws a knife at Clay, jumping out the plane to begin hand-to-hand combat.

You were struggling to get to them; running up against gun fire from Max's guards once they realized you had turned on them.

"Ya know, I always wondered how this was going to play out, Clay..." Roque remarks, holding a knife in each hand.

"Told you already" Clay smirks, clutching his gun at the muzzle as a weapon.

"You die, very badly..."

"Oh yeah...?" Roque scoffs, chuckling softly.

"That because I took your girl...?"

"You're dead!" Clay growls out in response and two begin fighting in earnest.

"Roque!" you call out, making a run for the plane once you had an opening.

Both he and Clay pause for a second at hearing you.

"Get on the plane!" Roque yells out to you.

You were nearly close to them when a shot goes off, you scream out in pain as a bullet ripped through shoulder and you fall to the ground.

"No!" Clay yells out as you dropped to the ground. Turning toward Roque, he releases all his anger out on him then.

Roque manages to get Clay in a headlock, knife at his throat.

"It's your fault she got shot! Now I'm definitely gonna cut your head off!"

"Go-for-it!" Clay responds, elbowing him in the face.

You manage to sit up, groaning in pain as you clutch at you shoulder and then that's when you see Clay chasing Roque into the plane. Realizing that you wouldn't be able to make it and that you were in the path of the plane and ongoing gun fire, you hastily drag yourself to cover behind some containers.

A few guards come across your hiding spot and you easily dispose of them as you sit leaning against the container. Suddenly the sound of the plane starting up was heard, taking a peek from your hiding spot; you see Clay lying sprawled out on the ground and Roque was nowhere to be seen.

"Son-of-bitch!" you hiss out at the realization that he had abandoned you.

You hear the sound of an oncoming motorcycle and suddenly see Clay standing up from the ground. With wide eyes, you watch as he stood directly in the between of the path of the plane getting ready to take-off and Wade heading toward him full speed on the motorcycle.

"No-fuckin'-way..."

You hear a long-range shot go off and suddenly Wade's bike is exploding, flinging him into the air and directly into the plane's engine. The bike ends up heading directly into the front of the plane, causing it to explode and that's when you knew, you were fucked.

I've got to get the fuck out of here.

After having to choose between stopping a massive explosion or killing Max, Clay resurfaces from the water with the remote for the bomb in-hand.

"Hey...! Look what Pooch found!" Jensen calls out in excitement from an extremely bright canary yellow stretch hummer.

"Look what I found..." Clay remarks, remote clutched tightly in his palm.

Pooch throughs him some duct tape and he quickly disarms it.

"See ya got Max too!" Jensen cheerfully remarks.

"What?" Clay frowns at him.

"No, I didn't. He got away 'cause I had to dive in after the remote."

"Really?" Jensen frowns in confusion.

"We came across his body further up. If you didn't, then who did?"

"What?" Clay stares at him open-mouthed.

"Clay!" you call out, stepping out from behind a container.

"Oh, it was you!" Jensen remarks with a smile, but it soon drops when realization hits.

"But didn't Clay say, you were working with Roque?"

"It wasn't me!" you shake your head frowning.

Noticing the cuts on your face from haven fallen and you clutching at your injured shoulder, Clay's face turns to one of concern as he takes a step towards you.

"Y/N..."

"Don't!" you yell out, lifting your gun up at him in warning.

"Don't come any closer..."

"We can talk about this..." Clay attempts to reason with you.

"What's there to talk about...?" your voice wavers as you place the gun against the side of your temple then, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

"It's done. I'm done..."

"No! Wait!" Clay pleads at you, tears forming in his eyes now too.

"Please. I don't want to lose you... not like this. Please..."

"You can't lose something you never wanted in the first place" you chuckle almost insanely at him.

"Goodbye-Clay..." you smirk, suddenly turning the gun back onto him.

"Y/N! Wait!" you hear someone yell out from behind you.

"Roque?" you stare in open-mouthed confusion as he comes closer.

"The plane...? You died..."

"Got off when his ass was sprawled out on the ground" Roque responds, nudging his head toward Clay.

"Now, put the gun down, Kid."

"Wasn't gonna shoot him..." you state with a frustrate grunt, blindly waving the gun in their direction.

"Was counting on one of them to take me out instead."

"What?" Clay finally speaks up then, staring at both Roque and you in shock.

"Never mind that" you shrug him off with another wave of your gun, waving it in Roque's direction then.

"How the fuck are you alive?"

Roque lets out a soft chuckle at your remark.

"It was all part of the plan..."

"What-plan?!" both you and Clay yell out in confusion.

"Make Max believe that I turned sides so I could get close enough to kill him" Roque explains like his talking to toddlers.

"Why-the-fuck-didn't-I-know-about-it?!" both you and Clay ask yet again at the same time.

"Shut up, Clay!" you growl at him in frustration.

"But-" Clay tries to speak but you cut him off.

"I'll ask the questions" you snap at him, returning your attention back to Roque then.

"How come I didn't know about this so-called plan?"

"It was Aisha's idea..." Roque replies.

"Aisha...?" Clay and you both turn toward her only to see a gun being pointed directly at Clay.

"Was a great plan..." Aisha smirks, shrugging then.

"Max is dead now and soon you'll be too."

Everyone freezes as they realize what was about to happen, all expect you though.

"Ai-" Clay's words are cut short as a gunshot goes off and Aisha drops to the floor, a bullet hole right between the eyes.

"What...?" you shrug as Clay stares at you open-mouthed.

"She was gonna kill you."

"Uh- not to be a party-pooper, guys..." Jensen interjects himself then.

"We really should be going, before this place is littered with cops."

"We just need to do one thing though" Roque remarks then, stepping toward the container that the money had been in.

"Whoa..." Pooch stares dumbstruck at the two remaining stacks.

"Wasn't gonna let all that money go to waste" Roque smirks.

"Holdup!" you wave your gun at him.

"You still owe me an answer.

"I'll tell ya everything once we're gone from here" Roque replies and goes to load the money into the Hummer.

"Fine" you grumble out.

"Fuck!" you hiss out when your shoulder wound begins to burn once the adrenalin had worn off.

"C'mon..." Clay reaches out to lead you hand.

"Let me help you into the car."

"I'm fine" you grunt, pulling your away from his hold and getting in yourself. Clay's head drops in defeat as he watched you walk away from him.

After patching you up, Roque finally explained the plan, he and Aisha had made before it was revealed that she was Fadhil's daughter. They had Roque reach out to Wade, and make a deal; that he would deliver both the hard drive and the team into a trap set by Max. What Wade didn't know, was that it was all part of their plan; to get Roque close enough to Max to catch him and finally clear their names and get their lives back.

"We decided the less people knew about the plan, the more believable it would be" Roque had explained.

"I get that" you nod in understanding.

"But why get me into the double-crossing bit?"

"Had to give you a reason to live..." Roque states.

"For-fucks-sake-kid... you were about to blow your brains out!"

"Don't remind me" you grumble out, a bit embarrassed.

"What-the-fuck?!" Pooch, Jensen and Cougar stares open-mouthed at his comment.

"Long story..." you shrug them off, pointing toward Clay then.

"Mostly that one's fault."

You notice the look of regret crossing Clay's features as he flinches at your words and the guys shoot daggered stares at him.

"Enough about the past" you change the topic then.

"There's enough money for us all to retire. We can all live our lives in peace now... Pooch, isn't Jolene supposed to give birth soon?"

"Yeah, she is..." Pooch smiles deep in thought.

"So, how about we get you home, and then we all can go our separate ways thereafter?" you suggest.

"You're leaving?" a surprised Jensen asks.

You nod, giving Jensen a sad smile.

"We ain't in the business no more, so it's for the best that Roque and I distance ourselves from you guys. Right, Roque?"

Roque faintly smiles, placing a supportive hand on your shoulder.

"That's right, Kid."

Your turns back toward the others as they sadly stare at you.

"It's for the best, guys."

Although not happy with your decision, they all nod in understanding, and that's when you notice the look of pure devastation on Clay's face, but you choose not to acknowledge it.

That bridge has burnt and can never be rebuilt.

"It's a boy and he looks just like me!" an excited Pooch radio's in as the team stood outside in the rain to hear the news.

Clay pops a bottle of champagne as everyone celebrates Pooch becoming a father.

"No thanks" you decline when Cougar offers you a sip from the bottle, looking to Roque then.

"We should get going."

Roque nods in agreement and you go to hug Jensen and Cougar goodbye, turning to Clay with a sorrowful smile.

"Goodbye, Clay."

With pleading eyes, Clay takes a step closer towards you.

"Can we please talk?"

Exhaling heavily, you look down at the ground, then up at Roque. He silently nods at you, addressing Clay by holding out his car keys.

"Here, you two take my car to the hotel, and we'll take the van."

"Thanks, Roque" Clay responds taking them, reaching a hand outward to direct you.

"Shall we..."

I was blown away What could I say? It all seemed to make sense You've taken away everything And I can't deal with that I try to see the good in life But good things in life are hard to find

We'll blow it away, blow it away Can we make this something good? Well, I'll try to do it right this time around

"I'm sorry" Clay finally speaks out into the quiet car.

"For what?" you ask nonchalantly.

"For being a total asshole toward you. For treating you the way I did."

You're caught off-guard then when his voice begins to waver as tears ran down his cheeks.

"For pushing you to the point of wanting to end your life..."

"You should feel sorry" you respond, your own voice wavering then as well.

"You fuckin' wished I had been on that chopper when it blew up! You fuckin' said it to my face!"

"I didn't mean it" Clay drops his head in shame.

"After the standoff with Fadhil, I wanted you to get on the chopper for your own safety... I almost lost you, if I hadn't reacted fast enough."

"And then you wanted to force me onto a chopper that was shot down the instant it was in the air" you state matter-of-factly.

"I didn't know that was going to happen" Clay whimpers out.

"All those innocent kids... I still have nightmares about it."

You begin to tear up at the memory of that day.

"They were so happy to have been saved..."

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

I've taken all I could take And I cannot wait We're wasting too much time Being strong, holding on Can't let it bring us down My life with you means everything So I won't give up that easily

"I have nightmares of you being on that chopper as well" Clay confesses. Grabbing hold of your face and pressing his forehead against yours as he begins crying.

"I-never-meant-it... I-love-you."

"No, you don't!" you cry out, shaking your head in denial.

"I do" Clay insists whilst crying himself.

Pulling yourself from his grip, you glare at him then.

"Then explain Aisha?"

Clay cringes at your remark, dropping his head in shame.

"I'm an asshole... everyone knows it.

"No denying that..." you nod in agreement.

"I did it so that you would hate me, because I was scared" Clay finally admits.

"I'm not good with relationships, with love..."

You scoff at his confession.

"So, you decided to hurt me instead? Because you were afraid of loving me?"

"I would rather lose you emotionally than physically..." Clay states.

"If you want to go and be with Roque, then I understand, as long as you're happy. I just wanted to clear things between us before you do."

"Be with Roque...?" you stare at him confusion.

Clay arches a brow at your remark.

"You're together, aren't you?"

"Heck, no!" you burst out laughing.

"He's just a good friend. One that was there to drag me out of my darkest hours. If it wasn't for him, I'd be in the ground."

Clay stares at you hopefully then.

"So, you're not romantically involved?"

"Nope" you shake your head.

"But you were going to leave together?" Clay scrunches his face in confusion.

"The country, yes. But we were going our separate ways thereafter" you explain.

"Ok" Clay nods, taking in all the information.

"I have one question for you though?"

"Ok" you nod in agreement.

"Would you have pulled the trigger?"

"No" you immediately answer.

"It was a bluff, so that one of the others would shoot me."

"What?" Clay stares at you in shock.

"Why?"

"My plans for a new life were screwed. There was no other way out of the situation but that."

"They never would have done it, you know" Clay comments.

"I know the guys wouldn't have" you respond.

"But Aisha would have, and I was counting on that."

Clay's head drops in realization at it all.

"You're right. Thank you for saving my ass with that situation."

"You're welcome" you respond, smirking at him then.

"I might kinda hate you, but I wasn't about to let her kill you."

Clay flashes you a faint smirk.

"Thanks."

"So... what do we do now?" you awkwardly ask.

"Please, don't go..." Clay stares at you with pleading eyes, and you felt yourself slowly covering.

"Why?"

Taking hold of your hands, Clay brings them to his lips to kiss.

"I love you. I don't want to lose you. Please, give me another chance to prove myself to you?"

I'll blow it away, blow it away Can we make this something good? 'Cause it's all misunderstood Well, I'll try to do it right this time around

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

You stare deep in thought at him for a moment.

You still loved him. He loves you. Would it really be such a bad idea to give him another chance?

"One chance..." you state in warning.

"That's all you get. If you mess it up, I'm gone..."

"I can do that" Clay eagerly agrees.

"Good" you smile at his reaction and he smiles at you in return.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Nope" you smirk, shaking your head at him.

"You gotta wine and dine me first..."

"Fair enough..." Clay chuckles at your remark.

You grin at him in response.

"We're doing this the right way this time around, Col. Clay..."

"Yes, Ma'am..." Clay gives you a small salute and you couldn't help but laugh.

"How about a forehead kiss...?" Clay attempts his luck.

Squinting your eyes at him for a second, you faintly smirk.

"Ok."

We can't let this get away Let it out, let it out Don't get caught up in yourself Let it out

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

The team was having a family day at Jensen's niece's soccer game.

"Anyone hear from Roque?" Pooch remarks while Jensen keeps shouting at the referee.

"He's good..." you remark in-between bites of your snack.

"Enjoying himself on some exotic beach somewhere."

"Lucky bastard" Jensen comments in-between his arguing and you chuckle out at it.

Your attention goes back to the game as you rest your head against Clay's shoulder.

"You ok?" he stares down at you.

You tilt your head up at him, smiling.

"Yup."

"Good" he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Jolene hands their son to Pooch and he turns to Clay then.

"Col... do you wanna jump on this for me?"

Clay looks at the baby, offended that Pooch would ask him to change the baby's dirty dumper.

"I'd rather jump on a live grenade..."

"It'll be practice, for when your one arrives..." Pooch remarks nudging his head toward you, causing you to burst out laughing.

Clay glares at you, turning back to Pooch then.

"That's different..."

"C'mon..." Pooch begs then.

"I'm invested, I have a hundred dollars in this game."

Clay scoffs at his remark.

"Wait-a-minute... who the hell did you find to bet a hundred dollars on a girl soccer game?"

"Uh... that would be me" you sheepishly left up a hand in confession.

"What?" Clay raises a brow at you.

"Seriously...?"

"You bet against the Petunia?!" Jensen yells out offensively.

You sheepishly raise your hands and shrug.

"It was a good bet."

"The betrayal...!" Jensen scoffs, glaring at you.

"I thought we were family?!"

Something on the field catches his eye before you respond, and he jumps up yelling at the referee again.

One of the opposing team members had pushed his niece onto the group, causing Jensen to jump up and run onto the field in protest.

Clay and you were silently smiling at one another; completely lost in each other's eyes during that moment when suddenly, Cougar taps on Clay's arm and points toward Jensen.

Clay softly chuckles at the scene of Jensen and the referee having a standoff.

"We should probably get him..." you state, a bit concerned.

"We will..." Clay states, pointing between, Pooch, Cougar and himself.

"You stay where you are."

"But-" you begin to protest, but he cuts you off.

"No buts... you're pregnant. Besides, he's still mad at you over the bet.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh out in defeat.

"Fine."

"Good girl" Clay smiles triumphantly, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"Love you..."

"Love you too" you respond, smiling.

"Now, go get Jensen... before he gets his ass beaten-up."

"Yes, Ma'am..." Clay chuckles, sneaking another kiss before running off to save Jensen.

Jolene and you sat watching the entire interaction as the guys attempt to calm Jensen down. The both of you chuckling amongst yourselves; Jolene with her son in her arms, and you with a hand absentmindedly on your growing baby bump.

Things were good again. Your future was bright. You finally had a family of your own.

Let's start over It's not over, yeah, yeah This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over...

#Lt. Col. Franklin Clay #clay x y/n #clay x reader #franklin clay #the losers (2010)#jeffrey dean morgan #jdm #clay

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cadavercowboy · 2 years

Text

Winners And Losers — Part One

Pairing: Lt. Colonel Franklin Clay x Reader

Summary: If being an ex-Black Ops mercenary has taught you anything, it’s that you win some and you lose some. Colonel Clay could stand to learn that lesson, too.

Word Count: 2.3k+

Warnings: Language. Mention of death. Violence.

Gun oil smears across your fingers and drifts up into your nostrils as you clean the last of your three weapons. You drag the stained cloth over every inch of your AR-style rifle, meticulously prepping it for today’s operation. Your fellow ex-operatives bustle around you as well, preparing their own weapons and tending to any preparations they’re responsible for.

The sound of Pooch’s ratchet echoes around the cluttered garage from beneath the hood of a large, black Hummer. Cougar sits in the corner with his booted feet propped on a rickety table and his customary cowboy hat sitting crookedly atop his head as he fiddles with the scope on his sniper. Jensen — in one of his infamously ridiculous graphic tees; this one depicting an adorable kitten outfitted like Rambo — replaces the batteries in your walkies and tests everyone’s earpieces, ensuring they’re operating properly.

And Clay? He’s nowhere to be found, though that’s to be expected. The Colonel has become something of a ghost in the recent months and seeing him outside of a rundown or a mission is a rarity. Not that he’s ever been a very open or social man, but after Roque’s betrayal and Aisha’s death, he’d virtually shut himself off entirely from the team. You’d become The Losers and The Loner.

No matter how many successes outnumber your few failures, Clay is never there to celebrate — or even wallow — with a drink afterwards alongside you and the boys. Instead, he chooses to isolate himself, alone in shitty motel rooms or dusty, old bunkers with only his thoughts and a bottle of whiskey to keep him company. Outside of absolutely necessary communications for the sake of creating a game plan for your missions, none of you ever speak to Clay and it’s becoming a bit of a damper on the team’s morale. The distance he’s built between you all has made co-op missions awkward and tense as of late.

A heavy door creaks open and slams shut, revealing the man in question; dressed in a crinkled dress shirt and a suit jacket that has seen better days. His stubbled face is taut, his brow furrowed with stress and his typical expression of unhappiness. The room immediately becomes weighted with tension, as it always does. Clay tosses a thick file folder onto a workbench, silently pointing at it in an invitation for everyone to look it over before turning back around to make his exit.

A metallic crash rings throughout the room when Pooch tosses his wrench into his toolbox and pulls out a rag to wipe the motor oil from his calloused hands. The room suddenly feels tiny and overcrowded and you shift uncomfortably, laying your unloaded weapon beside the two other empty pistols on the table. From the annoyed look on Pooch’s face, you already know something bad is about to go down.

“Well, look who finally climbed out of their hole,” he announces loudly towards Clay’s retreating back.

The Colonel’s steps halt and you see his already tense shoulders raise just a bit before he exhales on a long sigh. Every member of the team turns slowly, reluctantly…waiting to watch the inevitable blow-up that’s sure to happen.

“You actually gonna be part of this mission, Colonel? Or you just gonna phone it in like the last four?” Pooch wonders.

“If you got a problem with the way I run things, feel free to find your way to the door,” Clay retorts without turning around.

“Nah, we’re already down two idiots and if I leave too, the rest of these idiots don’t stand a chance,” Pooch spits. “Although, maybe with less people to keep an eye on, you’ll be able to tell when someone is two-timin’ ya.”

The mention of the loss of two members and the reference to the treacherous Roque sets your teeth on edge. You know how sensitive the subject is for Clay and it’s something you’ve all known better than to bring up. But Pooch has never been one to stand down and if something is bothering him, you’re all gonna know about it. When Clay spins slowly, you stand from your stool and wipe your dirty hands on your stained jeans, ready to interfere if necessary.

“Right under your nose and you didn’t…even…see it,” Pooch bites out, taking several steps in Clay’s direction until he stands before him.

This is the first time anyone has so bluntly mentioned The Roque Incident and certainly the first time anyone dared to call Clay out for his part in it. Though he isn’t directly responsible, Clay’s negligence in monitoring his team had led to Aisha’s death. If he had paid more attention to Roque’s suspicious behavior or killed him when given the chance, the traitor wouldn’t have been able to take Aisha out or escape without a trace.

“Pooch, c’mon,” you plead before Clay interrupts.

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ talk to me about not seein’ shit,” he growls. “Don’t talk about them.”

“Why? Because you can’t face what you did? Don’t wanna admit that you’re the reason she’s—”

Pooch doesn’t have a chance to complete his accusation because Clay’s fist swiftly knocks the words right back down his throat. The muffled impact of his swinging fist is deafening in the uncomfortably quiet garage. You’re in motion almost immediately, hopping over an open crate of ammo to insert yourself between the two men pushing one another and throwing well-aimed punches. Pooch returns Clay’s punch, landing a heavy blow against his mouth before you’re bracing a hand against Clay’s chest and shoving him with all your might.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, come on!” you yell. “Knock it off!”

As per usual, you’re forced to play mother to this motley crew of unruly men. Placing your body between the fired up soldiers, you hold a placating palm in either direction, silently imploring them to calm down. Their heavy breaths fill the room, each of them shifting their weight on their feet and itching to get to one another.

“You ever bring that shit up again and I’ll put a bullet in your head,” Clay threatens.

“Sounds fun,” Pooch pants with a feigned smile.

From amongst the table full of tech comes Jensen’s soft voice. “Sounds like my parents.”

“Load up in 10,” Clay grunts brusquely before storming out through the door he entered from.

You blow out a breath and roll your eyes as you shuffle over to Cougar and his trusty sniper. He lays the gun down gently before glancing up at you with a shake of his head and a shrug of disbelief.

“Idiotos locos,” he mutters so only you can hear it.

From under the table, he procures a half-empty bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. As is tradition, he pours a shot for each of you and you tap the miniature glasses together before downing the acrid liquid in tandem. With a fist bump and a salute, you both arm up and gather the necessary supplies before waiting on Pooch and Jensen.

When everyone is fully loaded and prepared, Pooch pulls open the huge overhead door and leads you to where your intended transport is parked outside. The yellow paint of the decrepit van is chipped, peeling, and rusted; the Dorian Exterminators logo barely visible amongst the deteriorating body of the vehicle.

“You planning to go undercover or you trying to offer candy to unsuspecting kids?” you jest towards Pooch, tossing your head in the direction of the creepy van.

“Not even Willy Wonka could trick a kid into this piece of shit,” Jensen jokes along.

Pooch offers a middle finger to each of you, explaining that this is all he could get on such short notice. Clay appears from nowhere, joining the group of you as you make your way towards the van. He swings the back doors open, gesturing for you to climb in before piling in behind Jensen and Cougar. The back of the van is cramped and hot, but you make due, curling your legs beneath you to make room for your three comrades. From the driver’s seat, Pooch twists his body around and whistles to get everyone’s attention.

“We gotta squash this shit,” he declares, addressing Clay.

“Pooch, we’re on a schedule,” Clay counters impatiently.

“Pooch, we’re on a schedule,” he parrots mockingly, yanking the keys from the ignition so Clay knows he has no intention of leaving.

You nearly laugh at the man’s goofy voice and one glance at Jensen tells you he’s in the same boat. Clearing your throat to prevent that, your eyes volley from Clay to Pooch, waiting to see how this plays out. The dried blood in the corner of Clay’s mouth matches the blood that circles Pooch’s nostril.

“I’m not going into an assignment with this shit on my mind,” Pooch says. “So let’s just apologize and move on so we can get to work.”

“Apologize? Are you—”

Pooch starts talking before Clay can argue any further. “I’m sorry for bringing up the past. And for being…kind of a dick.”

“Kind of?” Clay questions incredulously, before thinking better of it and simply going along with Pooch. “You know what…I’m sorry, too…for punching you. Now can we go?”

Seemingly pleased with Clay’s forced apology, Pooch offers a bright smile and a single excited nod before situating himself in the driver’s seat. The keys jingle as he jams them back into the ignition and the engine grinds to life. With the tip of his finger, he flicks the nose of the little bobblehead chihuahua sitting atop the dashboard — no mission would be complete without him.

“Let’s roll, Mojito!”

Between the erratic way Pooch is driving and the grating sound of Jensen’s off-key scream-singing of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’,” you’re feeling just a bit overwhelmed. Every time a bump in the road sends the dilapidated van airborne, Pooch laughs maniacally. You slip and slide along the steel floor of the empty vehicle, clawing for purchase as you watch the dashboard doggie’s head rattling with dizzying abandon. It’ll be a damn miracle if you can make it to the rendezvous point without puking all over yourself. That is, of course, assuming that the crumbling van doesn’t shake itself to pieces first.

Jensen screeches out a particularly high note, one that prompts you all to howl a chorus of “shut up” in unison. When the tires thankfully remain entirely in contact with the pavement of a particularly smooth road, you look up to speak to Clay.

“You still think we should enter through the East corridor?” you yell. “West side would make it easier to get in and get out!”

Clay considers your words for a moment, mentally picturing the map he’d pored over all morning. With a quick glance at Jensen and Cougar who nod in agreement, Clay also agrees with your observation. Your assignment is an extraction mission and you’ve been tasked with rescuing several important government personnel. According to Clay’s intel, the room they’re being held in is closest to the West side of the building. While it’s expected to be more guarded, entering there will lessen your chances of being spotted before you can reach the targets.

“No muss, no fuss,” Clay quips.

You observe him for an extended moment, though not long enough to be conspicuous. Since joining the Losers, you admittedly had a crush on the handsome Colonel, but it’s against your principles to get involved with a superior. Plus, when Aisha had come into the picture, you’d had to squash down your juvenile feelings in the name of self-preservation. Jealousy is the last thing you want to bring on a mission with you and you’d never risk the safety of your team by coming to work distracted. Still, the need to prove yourself to your leader and earn his praise remains and it has strengthened your work ethic in an intense way.

Pooch screeches the van to a halt and it sends all of you tumbling into a heap of limbs and guns. Clay grumbles in irritation while Jensen merely laughs and Cougar leaps into action, kicking the van’s doors open. He hops out and you all follow suit, adjusting yourselves and standing in a circle for one last rundown of the plan.

You secure the pistols on each hip and situate the rifle strapped to your back while Clay runs through the most important steps. Cougar is going to be stationed at a vantage point behind the warehouse you’re entering. Jensen is to wait outside in the thick brush, keeping an eye on the perimeter and taking care of comms while you’re all inside. You, Clay, and Pooch are infiltrating the building and taking out any guards you come across on your way to the hostage’s location.

With a final review of his responsibilities, Cougar takes off sprinting, making his way up a steep hill and disappearing behind a line of trees. Excitement and anticipation set your heart to beating in a wild rhythm as you move in line with the trio and stealthily approach the abandoned warehouse a few hundred feet away. Your boots crunch quietly along the gravel before you come to a stop, bracing your back against the steel-sided building.

You wonder if the men inside holding innocent civilians hostage are aware that you’re coming for them, but you’re sure you have the element of surprise on your side. The captors had reached out to the CIA in search of a ransom, but all they got was a team of ex-Black Ops coming to blow their asses away.

“Boss, we got a problem,” Cougar’s accented voice crackles in your earpieces.

Furrowing your brow, you meet Clay’s eyes with a confused expression. A long pregnant pause passes as you wait for Cougar to report back, wondering what it is that he’s seen through his scope. A strange look passes through Clay’s hazel eyes before Cougar’s voice sounds again.

“We got Roque.”

Part Two

• Series Masterlist •

Jeffrey Dean Morgan Masterlist ✦ Writing Masterpost

#i can't wait for this to get slept on...courtesy of what a massive hunk of shit this site is becoming #this was just supposed to be a smutty oneshot but we all know that's almost impossible for me #so i ended up writing a bunch of plotline but the smut is coming #the losers #the losers fanfiction #colonel franklin clay #colonel franklin clay fanfiction #colonel franklin clay x reader #colonel clay #colonel clay fanfiction #colonel clay x reader fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan #jeffrey dean morgan fanfiction

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adogwithearsandnose · 4 years

Text

April 2

Two of the screws on the bottom of one of my two chairs have disappeared. Time just winds and winds so fast and then so slow; it reminds me of boarding school, when I first started noticing that I felt hopeful in the morning and more and more heartless, angsty and filled of malaise as the night grew later and later. Crushing an adderall and snorting it by myself, then in the shower, crying and crying until passing out and waking up at the bottom, half way on the floor, half way in the shower, water continuing to pour. Such a slow and fast event. I’m thankful that I don’t have those moments anymore but somehow I miss being the center of the universe when they occurred. Suddenly I am it, and if I am it, I can control it, and therefore everything around me. When I is everything its a lot of responsibility, but not as terrible. I don’t care if P comes over or not. I wish they would just communicate in a straight forward way. You’re coming or not; you’re mad or you’re not. Instead they say I’m very tired, or I’m not mad...; I can’t deal with having to read into what people are saying. I need it at face value so I can tell that part of myself thats constantly scanning to shut off. If they come over, I’ll try to make them tea, give them a massage, do something fun like read or watch something or make drawings. Hug them! If they don’t come over, I’ll smoke (more) and turn up the music and make some progress on the drawing or open the modeling clay I got. Its my favorite weather out; the moments, and lucky for me––hours––before a thunder storm. The frigid air, cut straight and the sound of the wind whooshing and whooshing. I crack all of the windows open to the gray whirling outside and the trash bag in the corner of my living room shakes and metal in my kitchen creaks and snaps. The time prior to a storm is a welcome companion. May my shroud take the shape of a weather form and surround me from above, whistling through one side of me, all around my insides, and out the other. Marc just sent the millionth and possibly final email out about the mixtape for the undergrads. One of the undergrads sent me a kind message over instagram thanking me for making the work that I do. A sweet gesture. P just texted me saying they’re putting on shoes. I told them we don’t have to ;) and they sent thumbs up. Just want to welcome them into my shroud, see what theirs is like, see if its another moment of weather I can love and look forward to. Saw W’s post that previously said, “from lover” was changed to “Stacy Szymaszek”––the author of the poem in the image. I know for a fact she had to look up how to spell her name and never read the poems I recommended. But I do give her that she is a good reader, loyal as a dog to a book she starts. An admirable quality. I don’t miss being in a relationship with her, but I’ve been missing parts of my old life with her. Mostly of the apartment. I miss the roof. Taking my notebook up there and writing and writing, dancing to music from the speaker so freely among the tops of buildings, the windows that opened to the houses that looked like yachts, the gardener’s garden, the guy who scrolled through instagram to masturbate, the sunsets from that roof, the slopes and large X that the resident beneath spray painted. Sipping on wine with W and talking endlessly. Its so odd to look back at that time in my life––so simple; going to manage 56, biking to Franklin, just enough money to buy rent and ice cream and nothing else. It would have been such a joyous life if we had admitted to being best friends, or if I had lived with someone that I looked forward to kissing. What a waste, I think. But also what a great time of learning. Learning that I love the roof and Greenwich Village and wine and lovers and Summer and Pride month and friends sitting in glamour and getting dressed up to party and the knowing feeling. Today I remembered the night that W, Carolion and I went to Ellis in Brooklyn. The woman coming up to me and asking, is that your girlfriend? Are you really open? She’s the most attractive person here. Then her going with W to make out in the movie theater. Apologizing to C for being discouraging of her experimenting with gender, that I was just territorial and jealous. Moments later us making out. Truly don’t remember how A got to B. But I do remember our teeth crashing multiple times. Worst kissing. Telling W immediately that we made out and wishing I could go fuck C so badly but knowing W would have to be there too. W says she’s down and we get a cab to Greenwich but end up eating a diner and C walks back to NYU dorm and W and I walk home. Its fucked up how I sometimes just want to fuck people to say I fucked them. I always get feelings for them and its dangerous. P and I are monog. (on my choosing). I just can’t imagine having sex with anyone else right now. I can’t even imagine fucking and not thinking of them. It wouldn’t be hot, it would be sad and I’m not in the place where I ever want to sad fuck again. I don’t know if my feelings on this will change when I move back to NY––but right now thats so far away. Rutgers added another semester which means another Summer, another half a year. Life is so up in the air. Life felt similar then––but this time I’m not choosing it.

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crzcorgi · 5 years

Note

Clay, you seem like a pretty laid back kinda guy. I know you’ve had flings and relationships in the past but would you ever think about seriously settling down?

Wow, deep thoughts huh darlin’? It’s true, I’ve never been the kind of man to settle down with one woman. But honestly my lifestyle really doesn’t lend itself to a long term relationship, I’m never in one place, at home, for very long. And most women don’t willingly choose to be with a man that’s never around.

Have I ever thought of something lasting, an actual relationship? To be honest, it’s never even entered my fucking mind. Would I entertain it now? I guess I might, I’m not getting any younger and this job is truly for the younger guys.

So, are you perhaps looking yourself sweetheart? I’m going, against my fucking will mind you, to a Christmas party tonight, maybe you’d like to join me? I know it’s short notice, but you intrigue me, I’d like to get to know you a bit better. If it gets to be too much, we can always just bail, go find somewhere else more to our liking. Fuck, just walking down Main Street with a gorgeous girl on my arm, sounds right up my alley. The snow, the lights, decorations.

Get dressed dollface, it’ll pick you up at 7.

Till then, love

Clay

#jdm takeover #lt col franklin clay #clay x reader #the losers #clay #crzcorgi requests #jeffrey dean morgan #crzcorgi crz 4 jdm

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holylulusworld · 10 months

Text

D.I.L.F. - Prologue

Title: D.I.L.F. - Prologue

Square filled for @tonystarkbingo (Mark VII): A3: Free Space (daddy kink)

Square filled for @tonystarkbingo (Mark VI - expired): A3: Free Space (daddy kink)

Summary: Your mother has a new love interest. You are stuck with her boyfriend.

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!Reader (for now...)

Characters: Franklin Clay (the losers)

Warnings: banter, a hint of tension, implied/intended cheating

Word count: 720

D.I.L.F. masterlist

“How much of my money did you spend this time?” You roll your eyes at Tony’s question. Your mother’s latest conquest.

He was the one handing you a black credit card, and now he wants to check how much of his money you spend. Like hell.

“As much as I wanted to,” you snap at the billionaire. “You said it yourself.” You dip your head to glance at him. “A happy daughter means a happy mother means she will let you do dirty things to her for a little longer.”

You walk away, not sparing Tony a second glance. Your mother wanted to spend the weekend at Tony’s place, and now, she’s nowhere to be found. Which pisses you off because your are stuck at this place.

“Your mother is out and about with her friends. Maybe you should head home,” Tony mutters under his breath. He doesn’t sound happy about your mother’s absence.

“Hmm…” you bite your tongue. If your mother fucks things up between her and Tony, you’ll lose weekends at his mansion, trips to Paris, and the black credit card. “Uh-I don’t have any plans for the weekend.”

Putting on your sweetest smile you turn back around. You put the bags on the ground and walk back toward Tony.

“I had plans with your mother.” He crosses his arms over his chest and sneers as you touch his bicep.

“I’m sorry she wants to spend the weekend with her friends,” you softly say. “But hey, we could have dinner together or…uh…have another swim contest.”

He grins now.

“Do you think you can beat me this time, darling?” Tony purrs. His hand cups your cheek, and you lean into his touch. He’s always so warm, and you drift toward the place in your mind you’re craving. “I like having you around, darling. You can stay. But be aware, I got another guest.”

“A guest?” you ask. “Who?”

“My friend Clay came around for a week or two. He’s easy to handle. Give him a drink, and a smile and he’s your best friend.”

You cover the hand on your cheek with yours. “Hmm…” you flutter your eyes shut, enjoying Tony’s attention. “I don’t mind having your friend around.”

“So. A swim and diving contest at the indoor pool again, darling?” Tony asks. “I got new swim shorts I want to show off.”

Your eyes snap open as you realize you let your mother’s boyfriend cradle your face. It’s not that you do not find him attractive, or have a thing for older men. But he’s your mom’s lover, and you can’t do such a thing to her.

“I…I’ll beat you at diving this time, Daddy.” He laughs when you stick your tongue out. “Wait for it!”

“So, your girlfriend is away but your stepdaughter is going to stay with you?” Clay questions. “Tony, be honest with me. Are you going to try to touch the forbidden fruit?”

“Clay,” Tony waves his friend’s question off, “she’s my lover’s daughter. I won’t touch her. I’m not some fucking creep.”

“She’s how old?” his friend presses on. “Tony, you never let one of your lovers’ kids stay at your home without them around.”

“Clay. Stop.” Tony slowly loses his patience. He doesn’t want to defend himself for letting you stay at his home.

“You’ve got a thing for the daughter, huh?”

“She’s at age, okay. Y/N studies engineering and needs a break,” Tony grunts. “My girlfriend spends the weekend with her friends, and I offered her daughter to stay at my place. There is nothing wrong with being friendly to Y/N.”

“Then why are you defending yourself, my friend,” Clay grins devilishly. “Is she cute? I know you are an ass-and-boob kind of guy. Does she have a big butt? I love me a big bootie too.”

“Clay. Last warning. I won’t let you talk about Y/N like this. She’s…” Tony huffs. “She’s off-limits. End of story.”

“You didn’t answer any of my questions.” Leaning back in his seat Clay watches his friend. “You get rock-hard for her, don’t cha?”

“Christ, Clay!” Tony jumps up to pace the room. “It doesn't matter! Y/N is my lover’s daughter. I can’t think about having my way with her tight little cunt.”

Tony pants heavily.

“Why not man? I can’t see your girlfriend here. She ditched you this weekend. Not for the first time. If you want to fuck her daughter, and Y/N is into it too. Do it.”

“I don’t know if she wants me too Clay.”

“Well then, you should find out if she wants you too…”

>> Part 1

Tags in reblog.

#tony stark #franklin clay #tonystarkbingo #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark x you

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