jensensfanfic

[jensensfanfic]

could you do the prompt “lifting the shorter one up so they can be seen in photos” with nick miller and a super short reader??

SHORTIE — nick miller x short!gn!reader

[imagine the gif is how he lifts you up 🥰]

-> okay, here's my first attempt at writing nick miller fic. it's very short, as i said they would be, but i hope you enjoy! i'm nervous lol

••••

it's the eighth wedding of the season. you and the loft family: winston, schmidt, jess, and nick are all sitting around your table, a little bored, and very much wanting to go home.

jess taps you on the shoulder, and you blink rapidly, realising you had been dozing off, "huh? what?"

"they're doing a wedding party photo," she explains, "come on."

"let's get this over with so we can get the hell outta here." winston comments as he rushes out.

you follow your group of friends out onto a field outside, where the entire guest list is shuffling around, finding their spots for the photo.

you end up wedged to the left of the bride, a couple of heads back. the photographer announces loudly that he's ready to start taking shots, and that's when you get up on your toes, trying to get your head in over the taller people in front of you.

tip toes aren't enough, so you try jumping whenever the photographer yells, "aaaand, 3, 2, 1..."

the jumping doesn't help either, so you grab onto schmidt and nick's shoulders. "guys, can you boost me up a little?"

schmidt doesn't hear you amongst the chatter of the guests, but nick looks down at you, confused.

"why?" brows scrunch as he looks down at you.

you gesture pointedly at the people blocking you from being in the photo. "i'm too small." you laugh.

"i gotcha, shortie." nick glances around, then smiles, "i have an idea."

your eyes widen when you suddenly feel one of nick's arms wrap around your waist, while his other slides under your legs. he hoists you up bridal-style. "oof! there we go."

the new height means you can see above the heads in front of you. "uh– thank you." you reply, trying to ignore the butterflies that swarm your stomach at the contact — your arms wrapped around nick's neck, his holding you up with ease.

the photographer yells, "alright! last one, let's make this a fun one!"

you glance at nick, and he nods at you encouragingly before turning back to the camera and sticking out his tongue. you wrap one arm tightly around him, then throw your other arm in the arm, grinning at the camera.

a few days later, when the photos are posted on facebook, you stop on a particular shot. in this photo, nick had just picked you up, and your eyes are locked onto each other, while the rest of the bridal party is looking ahead. you click save.

••••

[if you want me to try writing some more nick stuff - go to this post for some prompts you can send in ❤️]

[jensensfanfic]

hey! it's been so long! i really want to get back into writing full fics, but since it's been a while, i'd love to write some shorter drabbles to get back into it. so, if you like, please request some prompts from one of these lists -> ONE TWO THREE -> please be specific in which ones you choose (you can copy and paste them into my ask box to make it easier!!) and please only choose 1 or 2 per ask 💚

a reminder of who i write for: clay jensen, justin foley, daniel larusso

willing to attempt to write for: zach dempsey or beth greene

[jensensfanfic]

A CONFESSIONAL ESSAY

[or: a part 2 to 'kissing montage']

pairing: imogen heaney x f!reader

prompts: heartstopperweekly's week 1 prompts -> 1: summer break/holiday) & 3: "Please help me with my homework. I'll owe you one."

word count: 2.2k+

warnings: flirting, established relationship, an almost-love confession, reader literally runs away from her feelings, anxiety

a/n: this was written for week 1 of @heartstopperweekly. it can be read as a standalone fic, but i do recommend reading my fic, "kissing montage" first for the best experience. also, idk if the 'essay themes' mentioned would actually be a thing, but let's just pretend for the sake of this fic

—☆—

Imogen flops onto the bed face first, and the contents of her pencil case all fall out and roll onto the floor where you have your own stationery and books spread out into organised spaces. You hear her begin to talk, but it's muffled due to the pillow her face is now buried in.

"What was that, Im?" Laughing, you rise to your feet and plop onto the edge of the mattress. "Didn't quite catch it."

She lifts her head just long enough to repeat herself. "I said we only have a week left to finish our summer homework, and I have no idea what to write for my English essay."

Imogen slams her face back into the soft pillow and groans loudly. You shuffle up the bed and lay down, peppering her shoulder in little kisses to get her attention.

Imogen sighs and then rolls over to face you. "It's your fault, you know?"

"Excuse me? What's my fault?"

"This... I could've had this stupid essay done already, but you're just so d—" She cuts herself off.

"'So', what?" You lift your brows and wait for her to explain the blush that starts to spread over her cheekbones, but then she suddenly shifts. "Hey, come back and tell me why this is my fault."

"Just forget I said that." Imogen slides off the bed and back onto the floor, picking up her book again to find a blank, lined page. She starts to draw a cloud with little lines coming out of it. "Come on, help me brainstorm ideas."

You follow her to where she's sitting with her legs crossed on the carpet and pull out your phone.

"Wait, what are you doing?" She asks, leaning over to try and look at your phone screen. "You're not gonna help?"

"I'm taking a break."

"But I need you! Help me, please!" She tries her hardest to plead with you, eyes wide and lips pouting. Reaching over, she lightly ghosts her manicured nails over your arm rhythmically.

You'd be lying if you said that the feeling didn't send shivers down your spine; make you want to give in, and then lean over and kiss her– homework forgotten.

"Nope." You shake your head, rapidly blinking heavenly thoughts of flicking her hand away and pulling her over you. "Not until you tell me why it's my fault that you can't write your damn essay."

She huffs, and you hear the little thud of her pen dropping onto paper as you continue playing a game on your phone. You purposefully turn up the volume and grin.

"Really?"

"Really." You look over the screen at her and wiggle your brows. "You can't just blame me and then not tell me why."

"It's just a stupid thing. I didn't mean it, alright." She rolls her eyes. "Just... ugh! Please help me with my homework. I'll owe you one. You're so smart and so creative and so good at—"

"Hold up, hold up, go back. You'll owe me one?"

"Yeah, anything." She perks up, desperate to keep you interested in the possibility of a deal. "We could, uh... go out after? Maybe a cinema date? Or we could order in pizza? I'll pay for it."

You drag your bottom lip in between your teeth and look up at the ceiling, thinking, then shake your head. "I'm not really feeling like going anywhere... or pizza."

"Okay, okay..." Imogen glances around her room. "Um... ooh! You can pick one of my plushies to keep. You can pick any one that you want! Besides my queen frog, of course."

You look over at the green frog plush sitting on her nightstand, a little crown on top of its head. You briefly remember when you'd given it to her years ago, when you were both in primary school and your friendship was beginning to bloom into something special; into a forever kind of deal.

You smile, but you don't answer, so Imogen carries on looking around her bedroom until she spots something lying under her bed.

"What about this guy?" She plucks the Luigi plush that she'd practically stolen from you at the arcade almost a year ago. She waves his arms around and pats his head. "I know you still want to steal him right back after I kidnapped him from you."

"Hmm." You reach out like you are going to take him, but then pull back just as quickly. "Nah. I'll have plenty of chances to reclaim him when you're not looking."

Imogen sudddenly throws her head back, and tosses Luigi across the room, making you flinch a little. He bounces off the door and lands perfectly upright in her laundry basket.

"God sake! You're so annoying." She exclaims.

"Rude!"

"You..." Imogen ignores you and she now looks both equally annoyed and nervous, the second emotion puzzling you. "You want me to tell you why I said it's your fault, don't you?"

"Ha, you know me well. Oh, yes." You smile. "I sure do, Im. I'll help you figure out an essay topic for the low, low price of..." You clap your hands against your legs, creating a drumroll sound effect. "Revealing why this is all my fault."

Imogen looks exasperated, but there's a hint of amusement in the slight pull at the corner of her mouth. Her lashes touch the bottom of her eyebrows when she rolls her eyes again, dramatically.

There's also a feeling of nervousness that momentarily washes over your own body and mind. You worry that she might be about to say anything that could cause discord, or a fight.

What if she was about to say something that would upset or anger you?

It's not like you had never had arguments as a couple before. After all, you had been going out for almost a year. When they did happen, it would usually be resolved in true Imogen and [your name] fashion; with a long talk, a couple of emotion-desolving jokes and lots of kisses.

Before you can overthink too much, Imogen groans loudly before saying, "You better not make fun of me. This is dumb."

"Im, I would never."

"Okay, fine!" Her head falls and she fixate on her fingers, starts to pick at a loose thread on the lilac-coloured cardigan she's wearing. When she speaks, her voice is quiet and shy, not like her usual bubbly self at all. "It's because of you. It's your fault because of... you."

"What does that mean, I don't—"

"Ugh! It's because you're so freaking distracting, okay!? You're cute laugh, and your face, and you're so pretty it's very annoying." She looks up like she's asking for help from a higher power. Continuing on, her eyes drop back to her fidgeting fingertips. "Ugh, it's so embarassing... but, I can never concentrate when you look at me the way you do— like that! Like you are right now! I can't focus when you're always so... you!"

You could swear that your heart literally flips inside of your chest as you hear the words tumble from her lips. It takes several minutes after she's finished to say anything back.

"I..."

One word is all you can manage before you take a steadying breath and try to regain a slither of the confidence you had been wearing before her outburst of honest affection. It takes a moment, but you find it, shuffling closer to Imogen.

"You find me... distracting, huh?"

You bump her shoulder with yours, in the space where her cardigan has fallen down to her inner elbow. The familiar sensation of tingles chase themselves all over your body at the innocent, yet intimate press of skin against skin.

It feels like fireworks.

"That's why you can't decide on an essay topic?"

Imogen tries to turn away, but you swiftly take one of her hands, stopping her. You use the other hand to take her chin between your thumb and fingers, and guide her face to look at you properly.

The rose-coloured shadow that dusts her cheeks is now visible, and you find it both adorable and a huge compliment towards you; making you feel all kinds of lovely and warm and prized.

"Im, that's so sweet. And you know I find it hard to get anything done around you as well." You lean forward and kiss the corner of her mouth. "All I want to do when I'm with you, is grab your gorgeous face and kiss you forever."

Imogen's fingers interlace with yours as a small, shy laugh escapes her. She finally replies, tinted cheeks still evident and pleasantly hot under the tender stroke of your thumb. "Really?"

"Can't you tell?" You move impossibly closer and peck the space between the top or her nose and her forehead. "That's why I can't stop looking at you, but I never thought you noticed, to be honest."

"Well, I wish you would stop, so I can get some work done."

"I don't think I could stop if I tried." You rest your forehead against hers and smile. You chuckle then, repeating the same phrase that has become your thing since you began dating. "I really, really like you."

She hums, content. "Hm. I really, really, really like you, too."

Imogen's hand comes up to hold the back of your neck, and you stay locked in the moment for as long as it takes for you mind to come up with an idea, dragging you out of the bubble moment and causing you to pull away.

Imogen's looks dazed and confused, her hand hovering in the air from the sudden loss of contact. "What— Come back! That was nice!"

"Sorry, I just got an idea for your essay."

"Really? Okay, wait a sec." Imogen's eyes widen, and then she reaches for her book and scrambles for the pen she wants; a purple one with a little fuzzy ball on the end. Once found, she rest the book on her leg. "Alright, tell me your brilliant idea."

"You can write about me." Imogen smirks and quirks a brow.

"I— ha— I don't mean that in like, a self-centred type of way. I don't mean you should write about me, specifically, but the theme is romance, right?"

"Or friendship, or family relations. Basically any type of relationship... it's pretty vague."

"Well, maybe you could write about chemistry, like in a relationship. Like ours." You pause for a beat. Imogen's smile is fond as she patiently waits for more. "It could be about how two people can become drawn to each other. How they can feel so connected that sometimes it's all they can think about, to the point where it becomes, you know... distracting."

"Mmhmm." As Imogen nods along excitedly, practically transcribing every word you say into her book, you start to feel breathless. You find yourself pressing a hand against your sweater covered chest.

You try to push on, wanting nothing more than to help Imogen, despite the beads of sweat suddenly adorning the line of your hair.

"Write about how it can actually interfere with your day, thinking about that person and how much you crave being around them, and how much you lo— uh, how much you... like them." You such in a sharp breath, wiping your now-clammy hands on your jeans. "Like being around them. Yep, okay."

You stop abruptly, and Imogen glances at you with expectant, sparkly blue eyes. Her head tilts in the way you've always found so alluring, and she gestures with her hand in a way that says 'carry on' without words.

"Uh— yeah... just write about... all that, and—"

"Wait, keep going, please. This is great." You blow out a breath, and Imogen frowns. "Are you okay?"

Your skin prickles with goosebumps when Imogen picks up your hand and runs her thumb gently over your trembling hand.

"Wait, are you feeling okay?" She puts down her book and lays a hand on your cheek. "What's wrong? You've gone pale, babe."

"Oh... God, don't call me that right now."

You shove her hand away, and immediately notice her mouth fall slightly, a hurt look crossing her features. "I'm sorry, I—"

"No, no. No, don't be, just—" You quickly pick up your phone and stand up. "I need to get out of here."

"You're leaving? But—"

"I have to..." You mumble, then swing open her bedroom door. "I have to go home."

"Wait—" You hear Imogen rustling around as you run down the stairs.

Once you've reached the door and gotten outside, you close the door and lean against in for a quick breath. "Oh, my God."

"What just happened?" You hear Imogen's mother say from inside, her voice prompting you to starting running again.

As your pulse races and your body moves on impulse, your mind reels with the words you are certain were about to spill out of your mouth if you hadn't left when you did.

It's not as though you don't want to tell Imogen how you've been feeling for the past few weeks now... it's just incredibly daunting to think about what her reaction could be.

That night, you don't get any sleep whatsoever as your mind acts like a never-ending camera roll of possible ways a confession like that could have gone; all of the awful, perfect and heartbreaking ways.

"Ugh!"

—☆—

Taglist: @whereimwritingfrom @wqxianwriting @httphayn @imdoingbetternow (lmk if you want to be added or removed to all future imogen fics!!)

[jensensfanfic]

KISSING MONTAGE

pairing: imogen heaney x f!reader

requested: @aygfd: hey, I would absolutely love an Imogen one, especially there only being about 3 I’ve seen! I was wondering if maybe you could do an Imogen x f! reader where they pull a nick and Charlie and sneak around school kissing and all lovey dicey at home. If not that’s okay! Thank you :)

word count: 1.1k+

warnings: lots of kisses, sneaking around, reader calls imogen "Im", coming out via a public kiss, kind of set in s1 (bc of nick being single still)

☆part 2☆

—☆—

Imogen bounds towards you the second she sees you arrive at the school gates. She's so excited that she nearly runs into you but stops herself just short so that your shoes are touching.

"Morning," she greets you, sweetly, "Did you sleep okay?"

You briefly flash back to the previous evening you'd shared with Imogen.

You were at her house, hanging out in her room, like you did most nights. It was a normal moment night until Imogen had asked you who you fancied. She said she'd noticed you hanging around with Nick for weeks. Little did she know, you were hanging out with him because he was the only person who knew that you weren't straight. He was the only person you had told, and you had been telling him about your crush on Imogen, while he would try to convince you to let her know, to tell her.

And that is what you had finally done last night.

After she asked you that question, you took a deep breath and then turned around to face your best friend before taking her hand and finally confessing to her that you liked her.

It didn't take long after that for Imogen to lean forward quickly and give you the softest, warmest, most butterflies-in-your-stomach inducing kiss you'd ever experienced.

Now, here you both were, standing outside of the school gates, her eyes darting down to your lips as she also went over the night in her head.

"Not really." You answer, and Imogen looks concerned for all of a few seconds before you add, "I had other things on my mind, you know? Couldn't stop thinking about that–"

She cuts you off by grabbing your hand, surprising you. "Come on!"

She leads you inside, through the corridors, until she finds an open cupboard full of cleaning supplies. She ushers you in and closes the door behind her. "Is this... okay?"

"Uh... yeah!"

She giggles, and then you're kissing again, the hairs on your arms standing instantly as one of your hands finds its way onto the back of her neck.

You break apart a few minutes later when the bell rings. Not wanting to get caught, you both decide to risk getting detention, and you wait for the bell to stop and the corridor to empty before leaving and heading to class with sweet smiles on both of your faces.

—☆—

Over the next few weeks, you and Imogen can't keep your hands to yourselves. Whenever you get a moment alone, your lips are joined, both giddy and excited over this new and glorious feeling.

One evening, while doing homework, Imogen catches you staring at her. You watch her face, noticing the cute way she furrows her brows when she's concentrating. When she calls you out on your staring, you deny it, which results in her tickling you and inevitably leads to her smashing your lips together again.

—☆—

One night, during a sleepover at her house, her mother announces through a yell that she needs to 'pop to the shops to get some milk for breakfast in the morning'. The second the door shuts, Imogen smirks at you, wiggling her brows, "Alone at last! Wanna make out?"

"Uh... duh."

At some point during your little makeout session, you pull back momentarily. Imogen tilts her head slightly in confusion, and you say, quite simply, "You're lips are so soft, Im. Could kiss you forever."

She blushes and then you pull her back to you.

—☆—

Then there's your weekly 'friend date'. This time, you decide to go bowling at Hollywood Bowl. You end up making a bet. If Imogen wins, you'll pay for all the arcade games you play together afterwards, but if you win, she has to give you any and all prizes or tickets that you win in the arcade.

You end up winning, and then Imogen wins a cute Luigi plushy on a crane claw game. When it falls, you reach down to grab it, and she sulks, making a pouty face. You chuckle, "That face... so cute."

"What, this?" She asks, and then pouts again, to which you respond by tipping forward and pressing your lips to hers.

"Crap, sorry! We're like... in public."

"It's okay, there's no one here, silly." She replies, and then snatches Luigi from your hands and runs away with it, making you chase her.

—☆—

It goes on for weeks. You steal kisses at her house, at yours, at the park, in little hidden away corners at the mall, even at school. You both know how risky it is, but you manage to go months without anyone seeing you.

Being best friends, the only kisses you ever manage to get away with in school, are the little cheek pecks. You've always done it every time you greet each other at the school gates or said goodbye after a studying session, sleepover, or before walking home.

And of course you take advantage. Every time you kiss her cheek, or she kisses yours, you linger just slightly longer, or take the opportunity to whisper something cute or romantic in each other's ears.

—☆—

One day at her house on a Saturday afternoon, several months after your crush confession, you break away from her lips, pressing your forehead to hers. "Im?"

"Yeah?"

"I really, really like you."

She pulls away and laughs softly, "I really, really, really like you, too."

"I was wondering... if you want... can we, um... can we start to tell people. I think... I really want to... I'm ready to." You don't look at her as you wait for her answer, not wanting her to see how much you want this, how your eyes are near brimming with tears ready to spill if she says no. "It's okay if you don't want to yet. We haven't even said, you know, if we're..."

"Girlfriends? I think we are." Imogen gently lifts you chin with her thumb. "It's been months, and... well... do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"Absolutely, 100% yes, I do."

"Okay." Imogen pecks your cheek, and then your lips. "Then let's tell people."

—☆—

The next morning, Imogen is at school before you, and the second she spots you walking towards her bench, she bounds happily toward you once again. She kisses your cheek, wrapping her arms around you in a hug. "Just so you know, I want people to know, but I'm just checking... are you sure?"

You smile and nod. "I'm very sure."

"Then come here, girlfriend!" She pulls away, grabs your face, and crushes your lips together, in full view of everyone around you.

This special, life-changing kiss sends tingles throughout your body in a whole new, exciting, and terrifying way, and you can hear the murmurs as Imogen talks into the kiss. "Scared?"

"A little."

"Me too." She pulls away completely then, takes a breath and smiles at you sweetly, then takes your hand. "But I really, really, like you. Come on, let's not be late and get any more detentions."

—☆—

Taglist: @whereimwritingfrom @httphayn @imdoingbetternow (let me know if you want to be tagged in future imogen fics!!)

[jensensfanfic]

tiny justin foley drabble under the cut. nsfw

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

—☆—

justin foley is the type of guy who loves to almost get caught with you, but also despises the idea of anyone seeing you like that.

like, just imagine being right on the edge, writhing in pleasure on his bed in the outhouse, when you hear a car pull up outside. justin suddenly stops, pulling out completely and leaving you feeling so empty.

"no, please don't stop," you protest, "i was so close."

"i'm not gonna risk anyone coming in here and seeing you like this, baby. only i get to watch you fall apart."

—☆—

Taglist: @mockerycrow @wqxianwriting

[jensensfanfic]

CLAY ASKING YOU TO SPRING FLING ☆ DRABBLE

pairing: clay jensen x gn!reader

a/n: i was about to go to sleep and then i got this random thought in my head. it's messy and short as hell, but i hope you like it nonetheless.

—☆—

thinking about clay jensen trying to come up with a way to ask you to spring fling.

he's had a few crushes during his school life but has never felt brave or confident enough to ever ask them out. you, however, were different. he couldn't watch you go to the dance with somebody else without at least trying to ask you. there was just something about you that he couldn't let go - not without trying.

weeks went by, and each day that passed was another chance for some other student to swoop in and ask you to be their date. he needed to just buck up and do it, but he was still full of nerves whenever he was around you- which was actually quite often.

you sat next to each other in robotics almost every day. he had so many chances.

one day, while in class together, clay scribbles both of your names on top of your project plan, then doodles two little characters that you recognise from the akr comics you both read.

when you mention this, that you know these robots, clay only allows himself a mere few seconds of shock, before diving into a babbling ramble about the comics.

by the end of the conversation, clay finally gets an idea of how to ask you to spring fling. it's simple, probably a little nerdy or lame, but he does it anyway.

he spends all night– and all morning before school– sketching a small comic strip. he draws himself, and you, as akr characters, and in the very first square, inside the speech bubble, he writes, "will you go to spring fling with me?"

underneath, there are two different outcomes. in one, your character says a polite 'no', to which clay responds calmly and respectfully, the drawing of him looking sad, but understanding.

in the other outcome, the second square, your character responds with a 'yes, i'd love too'. and in this drawing, a thought bubble encases a small drawing of your characters dancing together at spring fling with tiny hearts decorating the scene.

clay can't believe it when he actually hands you this drawing in person, and he believes it even less when the second square becomes a reality.

he is utterly flabbergasted, but also, so so happy when you fling your arms around his neck and whisper a promise– to frame the picture and keep it forever– into his ear.

—☆—

Taglist: @mockerycrow

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

[jensensfanfic]

OUTHOUSE SHENANIGANS

pairing: justin foley x afab!reader

warnings: smut— top!reader - then top!justin, use of the word 'hole', trying to be quick (but not really lol), getting caught by clay, a little sprinkle of cockwarming

a/n: this just... happened, so it may be shit, but idc. hope you enjoy!

—☆—

"Holy hell, baby, you look so good right now. Taking it so well."

Justin's compliments spur you on further. You swivel your hips and start to move faster, smiling at the sound of his grunts of pleasure.

"Ohh, fuck. Yes."

Your phone chimes from the bedside table, but the text fails to interrupt your movements. You simply plant your hands on Justin's chest for balance and peak over at the glowing screen.

"It's just Clay- fuck."

You lean back again, running your fingers along Justin's arms. You take his hands in yours and guide them to your hips. He gets the message and starts to help you to move, to bounce up and down on his leaking cock.

"What– shit– what did he want?"

"Gonna be home in fifteen– oh my god, Justin, I'm–"

"Shit!" Justin suddenly goes rigid, and in a blink, he has managed to pull out, leaving you feeling empty and confused.

"What the fuck, Justin!?"

"You said Clay was on his way. He'll kill me if he catches us again."

"Asshole. That's it? I was so fucking close, baby." You sigh, then grip his shoulders and push him back down. "Come on, it's been days, I need it."

"Sorry!" Justin is so conflicted, glancing between you and the locked door of the Outhouse. "But–"

"Please, we still have like... 10 minutes." You look around and quickly find Justin's discarded blanket. You reach down and grab it before throwing it over both of you. "There."

"Really?"

"Really." You shift, moving your hips until your still-wet centre meets his half-hard cock. You start to grind on him. "Come on, baby. You wanna finish? Hm?"

The way Justin fully hardens again in mere seconds answers your question before he whispers a "yes."

You grin and then revel in the gasp he makes when you take him in your hands once more. You slap the head of his cock against your pussy a couple of times, causing little jolts of pleasure to ripple throughout your own body. Finally, you rub him around, collecting some of your wetness on his tip before sinking back down onto him.

You both move together for a minute or two before the urge to feel his weight on top of you becomes too intense to ignore. You grip his shoulders again and then lean down to whisper in his ear, "want you to fuck me, baby."

"I am."

"No, I mean–, I need you to fuck me."

Justin shifts then, rolling you over and under him without letting himself slip from the tight warmth of your aching hole.

"Mm, yes!" You readjust the blanket so that it's covering you both completely, then hook your ankles around his bare ass, flexing so that they nudge him into you. "Move now, baby. I need to cum so bad."

—

A few moments later, sated and sweaty, you pull down the blanket. You glance down at Justin, who is still planting gentle kisses all over your chest and neck; something he always does after sex, to calm your shaking, spent body and muscles.

He's still buried inside of you, and you love the feeling, always have. You both love to be connected for as long as possible post-sex.

All of a sudden, you hear the click on the door. Your eyes widen, and you glance down at Justin. He's still focused on kissing every inch of your body as you see Clay walk into the Outhouse.

He stops dead in his tracks, and you both stare at each other for what feels like an eternity but is actually only a handful of seconds.

You shrug, trying to look apologetic and trying harder, not to let out a laugh.

Not a word is spoken, as Clay just sighs. His hands fall limp to his sides, and then he turns around, takes a single step, and leaves.

This time, Justin hears the door slam, and his head pops out of the blanket. "Fuck... again? Clay is so gonna kick me out someday."

—☆—

Taglist: @mockerycrow @wqxianwriting (let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

[jensensfanfic]

NOT JUST THE FLU

pairing: justin foley x gn!reader (romantic) + clay jensen x twin!reader (familial/platonic ofc)

warnings: cursing, vomiting, justin in recovery - mentions of specific drugs, hints of justin's trauma from being on the streets, coughing, lmk if i should add anything else! (i am not an expert on addiction/recovery + symptoms so please don't come @ me)

a/n: here's another fic from my wattpad days. in the original version of this fic, i wrote the reader to be extremely pissed off and annoyed, but in this version they're a lot more understanding and soft

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

—☆—

"Anyone home!? Hello?"

As you close the front door, you kick off your boots, shoving them under the radiator to dry. With dripping hair and soaked clothes, you wander into the kitchen, leaving a trail of wet patches on the carpet in your path. You blow our a long, tired breath and head to the fridge for a bottle of water.

You call out again. "Hello!? Mum? Dad? Clay?" You pause for a few seconds, gulping down half of your drink." No? Just me, then. Sweet."

Figuring that you are home alone, you climb the stairs to the bathroom. You take the small pile of fresh pajamas you'd left before school and change into them. As you're drying your dry, you hear some clattering coming from Clay's room, immediately followed by a curse and then what sounds like a window being opened.

"Clay? You're here?" You knock on your brother's bedroom door. "Why didn't you answer me before?"

When you don't get a response, but continue to hear a string of curse words, you turn the handle and go in anyway. Your eyes widen when you see your friend, Tony. Well, just the back of him at least, as he sits on the window and then jumps down.

"The hell..." You charge forward, watching as he picks himself up from where he'd landed. "Tony, what the fuck?!"

Tony stands, brushes dirt from his jeans, and then looks back up. "Clay said you were studying with Jess."

You're at a loss for words as you frown.

"He said you'd be out late."

"What? I– we got done early. But that doesn't answer my question. What the fuck? Why were you in Clay's room alone?"

"Uh– not alone..." You turn around at his words and your eyes widen further upon seeing Justin Foley laying on your brother's couch, snoring.

How had you completely missed him lying there?

"Tony! Seriously, what the hell is going on?"

"Clay will explain. I have to go." With that, Tony gets into his car and drives away promptly, leaving you confused.

You shake your head in disbelief, then slide the window shut and turn to Justin. You walk over and give him a small shove.

"Justin? Hey..."

Justin wakes instantly, looking around the room, probably for Clay, but when he only sees you, he sits up and looks worried. "Um..."

"Can you please explain to me why the fuck you are in my house, drooling all ovwe my brother's couch?"

Justin opens him mouth to speak, but right at that moment, Clay arrives in the doorway to his room. "Shit! Crap. Uh– I can explain all of this."

"What on earth, Clay? Did you, like... smuggle him in here. Do mom and dad know?"

"They don't, and... kind of. I mean, yes. Yes, I did."

"And Tony was here because?"

"Tony was watching him while I was out."

Justin coughs. "Ugh, I told you, I don't need a babysitter."

You and Clay respond simultaneously. "Shut up."

You shake your head, confused. "Why would Tony need to babysit him?"

Clay looks down at Justin, who looks up at you before opening his mouth to speak. "I– uh– it's–"

"He's sick." Clay interrupts him. "He has the flu. Yeah. I brought him back to help Jessica with the trial and everything... but he's sick, so he's been staying here."

"Why does he need to be here just because he's sick?" You drop your shoulders, mouth hanging open slightly. You sit down on Clay's bed. "How long has he been here?"

Clay gulps before answering. "A few days."

"For real? I mean, what the hell, Clay? You've had Justin Foley in your room for a few days, and you didn't tell me? Are you completely crazy, or am I a total dumbass for not even noticing?"

Clay sighs. "Look, I'm sorry. But we can't risk him being seen."

You rest your head on your hand. "This is crazy."

"I know, okay? Just please... don't tell mom and dad."

Clay gives you his classic, wide-eyed, pleading face. The one he makes when he wants a favour from you, or if he's done something wrong and needs you to cover for him. He thinks it works, but, honestly, it never has.

However, thinking about it, you decide you would rather not face your parents after they find out this... secret. You can imagine their faces and the questions and the yelling they would do, directed at you and Clay. Since now, you have been involved.

"Yeah. Okay, fine." You chuckle. "Can you imagine what they'd say?"

Clay smiles and nods, and then sits down on the end of his bed next to you. "I'm really sorry that I didn't tell you right away."

"Forget it. Does he have medication?"

Justin shakes a small bottle of pills and points to the bottles of meds and water on the table.

"Great."

You feel before you see Clay tense a little, and you look st him with a quirked brow. "What now?"

"You are going to absolutely hate me for this, and I won't blame you if you do, but Tony, um... he can't skip school again tomorrow. Do you think you could– well, you know."

"You want me to watch him? You're serious?"

"Please. Just this once. I'll make sure you don't have to again. I'll figure something else out."

You huff. "Fine. I have first two periods free, so only until then."

"Thank you." Clay nudges your shoulder and smiles. "You're the best twin a brother could ask for."

"I know." You smile back at your brother, and then both of your eyes widen at each other when you hear Justin hiccup and then cough.

"Oh, God!" You try to grab the waste bin quickly, but Justin has vomited all the carpet before you can reach him.

—☆—

You sigh loudly when your phone rings again. "Jesus Christ!"

Justin tries to look over your shoulder. "What is it?"

"Clay... again."

You type a message back to your brother and then slide your phone onto the desk without looking. "He's demanding an update. Like, I'm sorry I forgot, I was sort of in the middle of cleaning up snotty tissues and your favourite vomit-covered shoes, bro."

Justin laughs. "Yeah, oops on that one, he's gonna be pissed."

"Most definitely."

"You have to admit, taking care of me isn't that bad?" Justin smirks.

"What makes you think that? It's gross."

"C'mon, Jensen." Justin smirks, his voice cocky as he explaisn. "Jeff told me."

"Told you what?" You ask, hoping Jeff Atkins really didn't let slip your secret."

"He told me what you said. That you thought I was 'hot', and I quote, 'as fuck'."

Ugh, Jeff.

You figure there isn't much point in denying it. You did find Justin attractive, and you weren't ashamed to think that. However, you do spin a tiny fib and pretend like your little crush on Justin is old news.

"Well... that was after that one night when you were fighting with Zach outside Hannah's party. You were having the time of your life, and so was I while checking you out."

"Oh, really?" Justin beams, and the smile looks strange against his sickly, exhausted looking face.

"How can you be this cocky and... flirty while simultaneously looking like you currently do."

Justin's mouth falls open. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... you really, really look the part of a sick person right now."

"Thanks?" He says, then makes you jump when he blurts out, "Shit, I'm fucking freezing!"

"I gave you three blankets!"

Justin shrugs. "I'm still cold."

"It's probably your fever." You sigh. "Be right back."

You quickly go to your own room and take the duvet from your bed.

"Here." Back in Clay's room, you throw the duvet over Justin, who takes it gratefully and pulls it around himself.

He frowns, surprised by the kind gesture, given that most of your shared time together, you'd been grumpy and impatient to leave.

"Thank you. But won't you need this yourself?"

"You want me to take it back?"

"No." He holds up his hand in defence. "I'm good, I'm good."

It's silent for a little while, so when Justin coughs again, it makes you look over at him. For the first time since you'd discovered him in your home last night, you actually take in his face properly.

You notice his eyes first. They're bloodshot, tired-looking, with little brusie-like circles underneath. His face isn't just pale; it's almost grey, and upon squinting at his hands for a few moments, you realise they are shaking.

Looking down at his medication, you see that not all of them are even meant to be taken for a 'flu'.

You stand up, frowning, and Justin follows your movements as you spot a fold tucked under Clay's desk, and lean down to pick it up. Before you can read it, Justin coughs, and you're certain it's fake; done in order to distract you.

"What am I going to find in here, Justin?" You plop back down onto the bed with the folder, and place it on your lap. "What isn't Clay telling me?"

Justin pulls the blankets tighter around himself. "Nothing, I–"

"You look awful. Like, worse than the flu awful. You're all lying to me, aren't you? You, Clay, and Tony." You roll your eyes when Justin doesn't respond. "Look, just tell me. Please. I promise you, whatever it is, I'll still keep my mouth shut. I just want to know what I'm really dealing with here."

You're about to push further when your phone rings again. You groan loudly. Answering it, you ignore Clay's questions and mutter, "Call me back in 20."

You hang up and throw your phone to the side. "So?"

Justin closes his eyes. "Just open that dumbass folder Clay made."

You do as he says, eyes widening when you read the first line on the first page inside. You read it aloud, "'Detoxing From Heroin.' What and what not– Justin, what–" You blow out a breath, taking a minute to let your anger fade, the feeling being replaced by concern and confusion. "What happened to you? After you left..."

Something in Justin's eyes shift. He suddenly seems scared, shy, maybe even a little ashamed. "I–" His voice cracks. "When I left–"

"Don't answer that." You quickly move to kneel beside him, leaning up on the couch and laying a hand over one of his. "Okay? You don't have to."

"Hm. Thanks." He relaxes and turns his hand, so that he can interlace his fingers with yours. When you don't pull away, and instead, squeeze his hand back, he smirks.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask, amazed by how quickly he seems to be able to change his entire mood.

"Because I knew it."

"Ugh. What?"

"You still like me, don't you?"

"Shut up, Foley." You pick up the folder again, opening it up to the page on medication. "Okay, what did you take before I got here?"

Justin doesn't answer right away, he just watches you flipping through the folder and mutters to himself. "Yeah, you still like me."

—☆—

Later that day, when Tony arrives to switch with you, Clay comes home too. You give them both an ear-bashing before leaving the house and heading back to school.

—☆—

A few days pass, and when you're walking to the shower one night, you hear Tony, ranting to Justin about how he needs to be somewhere else. You don't quite hear the what's and where's, or who's, but before you can even think about it, you push open the door.

"Go, Tony. If you need to. I've got it tonight."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm free, so go ahead."

"Okay." He pats you on the shoulder as he leaves the room. "Thank you."

You go and sit next to Justin on the floor, where's he got his knees tucked up against his chest, and his arms wrapped around them, shivering. "You're back. Thought you told Clay that you weren't gonna help after the other night."

"Yeah, well, I lied, I guess."

He smiles sweetly, and then you sigh to yourself for showing how much you really care for Justin, when you squeeze his knee. He looks up, confused, and then you turn your hand, palm up and nod.

Justin takes your hand once again, and then Justin lays his head on your shoulder. You lay your own against his.

"This is nice." He whispers.

"Yeah... until you throw up again."

Justin snort-laughs; and what you don't see is that at that moment, Clay arrives home. He looks in on you both, surprise making him leave you alone as he walks back downstairs, mumbling to himself.

Taglist: @mockerycrow @wqxianwriting

[jensensfanfic]

FROZEN MEALS

pairing: justin foley x gn!reader

a/n: another from my old wattpad account. this went from being just a 100 words on there... to this. also, warnings are under the cut

warnings: established relationship, use of "babe/baby", food mentions, mouldy food, justin not taking care of himself, mentions of seth + parental neglect, season 1 justin, it's maybe implied that the reader has more money than justin- but i wouldn't say rich/wealthy (not sure- you decide)

—☆—

Justin unlocks his front door and holds it open to let you in ahead of him. The simple, sweet gesture has you smiling, until you quickly remember where you are and who lives here. "Uh, is Seth around today, because I don't wanna be here if—?"

"I know." He shakes his head. "We're good. He been gone a few days, probably won't be back for a while."

"Alright."

"Come on, sit down."

Justin gestures to the tattered, old couch. You put your bag down next to the seat, then sink down into it. Justin kicks the door closed behind him, then opens the freezer and mumbles about how hungry he his. He rummages around for a while, then holds up a box and shakes it.

"This'll do. Hey, there's two of them if you want one."

You turn to read the box he's holding. 'Ready To Eat Roast Dinner.'

"Um, no, thank you. Not hungry."

"Suit yourself." Justin replies, and then you hear him poking holes, rather too harshly, into the plastic film covering his dinner.

He quite literally throws the container into the microwave, taps a few buttons and then grabs a stool while he waits for a beep.

However, like most things in Justin's mom's house, sadly, the microwave is broken. Instead of making that tell-tale beeping sound, it just doesn't stop. It keeps cooking, and after what feels like too long, you have to remind Justin to check his food, before it burns.

"S'okay, looks fine. Thanks for reminding me, though. That thing's a piece of shit."

Justin drops into the space next to you, placing his dinner on the table and digging in. You try not to grimace at the meal he seems to be enjoying, but the smell of it makes your face scrunch, as you cover your mouth with your hand.

"Justin, what is that?"

"Beef... I think." He shrugs. "Who the fuck cares? I'm starving."

"It just... doesn't smell right."

"What d'you mean?" Justin frowns, taking another bite.

"Well, it smells... bad. Like, out of date bad." You stand up and head to the kitchen counter. "Did you check the expiration date?"

"It's fine." Justin repeats.

You glance over the box, flipping it around to find the date, and grimacing when you do. "Justin, this is almost 5 months past!"

Justin looks over at you and just shrugs again. Then he shovels another bite into his mouth, which causes a bubble of anger to rise within you.

"Babe! Stop eating!" You go back to the couch, grab Justin's fork out of his hand and push the meal away. "You can't eat that!"

With a mouth still full, he yells. "I'm fucking hungry! I don't care."

He tries to reach for his food, so you pick it up and throw it into the trash before he can eat anymore.

"What the fuck?" He throws himself against the back of the couch dramatically. "That was fucking rude."

"No. It wasn't. You can eat that mouldy, rotten crap, Justin. You'll get sick." You join him once more, sitting down close enough to him that your legs are pressed together. "Baby, I don't want you to get sick."

"Ugh!" He shakes his head, annoyed, but when he looks at you again, his eyes are soft. "I'm sorry for yelling. I'm just hungry, and there's nothing else to eat."

"Nothing? At all?"

"Believe it or not... Seth's number one priority isn't feeding the dumbass kid he got stuck with after meeting my mom." Justin's eyes are sad, though his voice sounds like how he talks when he's telling a joke. "He rarely fills the fridge, unless it's with booze."

You blink rapidly, fighting off your emotions as you heart shatters. Clearing your throat, you pick up your bag and stand up, offering Justin your hand. He grabs it and you pull him up. "Well, fine then, let's go."

"Where exactly?"

"I'm gonna get us some takeout..." You open front door, throwing a look at the dirty, torn up couch. "...and then we'll eat at my place."

Justin's hand slips from yours, making you pause halfway out of the house. "Wait. Just— fuck sake!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"You already bought me a new backpack... a fucking winter jacket, even my school books. Just– you can't keep, like, buying me things."

"Why can't I?"

"Because! I– we're– it's– I don't know! It's just... it makes me feel like I owe you, all the time. And I have nothing to give you."

Dropping your bag to the floor, you reach for Justin's face, hold it, and force him to look at you. "Justin... baby, I love you, okay? And that means I love taking care of you, and taking care of you is making sure you have everything you need and deserve. 'Cos you do deserve it... even the very basic things that your mom and Seth don't buy for you. Like school books, and clothes... and food that doesn't smell like crap."

"Okay?" You shake his head a little. "And one day when we're older and both successful, you'll owe me back then. For now, though, being with you is enough in return."

Justin's mouth moves just barely, opening and closing as he tries to find what to say.

You know that he's never been the best at accepting help. He's never been one to ask for it either, and he definitely doesn't know how to react when you, or any of your friends tell him he's worth being cared for.

After a few moments, Justin replies with a simple, yet raw and heartfelt – judging by the raspy tone of his voice –, "Love you, too."

You peck his lips and smile. Then, you slide one of your hands up to his forehead.

"What're you doing?"

"Checking for if you feel hot. Do you? You ate quite a few bites of that crap."

Justin shakes his head. "I feel okay."

"Alright. Just tell me if you get a stomach ache or anything, 'kay?"

You take his hand, swing your bag over your shoulder, and then lead him out of the house. "So... pizza?"

"Ooh, yes." Justin grins, and you're more than delighted to see him happy once more. "I absolutely could go for pizza."

Taglist: @mockerycrow @wqxianwriting

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

[jensensfanfic]

MONET'S

pairing: justin x gn!reader

warnings: brief talk of justin's not-so-great past, but it's not detailed - just talked about in the form of rumours/hearsay

a/n: my next few posts are gonna be fics that came from my old wattpad book: 'justin foley gif series'. gonna try to fix them up a little and post them here before i delete them from wattpad :)

—☆—

The cafe is quiet when you enter; there are only a few tables taken up by men and women who look to be around your age. You had heard this was a popular spot for Liberty High students, so you assume that you'll probably see some of them around on your first day tomorrow.

You pull out your headphones when you approach the counter, and there's no need for you to ring the bell. Right away, a rather good-looking guy turns around. He doesn't seem to really look at you, but his voice and smile are polite and professional.

"Hey, welcome to Monet's. What can I get for you?"

"I'll just have a–" He looks up, and you pause as he throws a rag over his shoulder. "Justin Foley?"

He frowns. "Uh, yeah?"

"Sorry. Um... I'm new at Liberty, and I– I just recognised you from the, uh... football... photos."

"That's where you recognised me from?" He shifts from where he'd been leaning on the counter and stands up straight. "Sure."

"Crap. I'm sorry... again."

"It's fine, alright. Secrets never stay secrets at our school. I'm not surprised the new kid already knows all of mine."

Scrunching your face and pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh. "I've offended you. Justin, I'm–"

"Don't say sorry again." Justin smiles, then shrugs. "I meant it- it's fine."

"So... the things I've heard... they're true?"

"Some of them." He nods. "But I hope they won't make you run right outta here to find another coffee shop."

"Oh... no. No." You smile shyly. "We've all got our shit... right? Even me; 'the new kid'."

"Right." Justin smirks, then grabs a mug from the rack behind him. "So, do you want anything because I have a break in..." He glances down at his watch. "... oh. Two minutes ago."

"Ah, crap." You turn around anxiously, to see if there is anyone waiting behind you. Luckily, there isn't.

Justin notices you doing and says, "Slow day. Don't worry. Now, tell me what you'll have; on the house."

"You don't have to do that."

"Nah, it's all good. I'll get you something and then you can join me on my break... if you want."

"I'd love that. Thank you!"

"No worries. Now, please, for the love of God, tell me what you'd like."

You laugh, and them give him your order, to which he replies with a wink. "A great choice. Coming right up, new kid."

—☆—

Taglist: @mockerycrow @wqxianwriting

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

[jensensfanfic]

OK OK OK

justin x gn!reader

justin and reader are in his room studying together, but justin can’t stop doing that shy little smile and looking at reader whenever they aren’t looking. his ass is NOT listening. and it eventually ends in a kiss 😙

hey, friend!! hope you like it! (i'm so ???? on the ending... is it too cheesy? 😂)

pairing: justin foley x gn!reader

warnings: one mention of bryce, set in s1, cursing, kiss

—☆—

Justin has been doing this for the past hour; he keeps smiling over at you every time you look down at your work, and he thinks you won't notice.

"What is it, Justin?" You throw down your pen and stand up, leaning your hands against the back of the creeky chair, one leg kneeling on it. "Do you need something?"

He doesn't care in the slightest that he's been caught. He just crosses his legs and smirks.

"Not that I know of." He shrugs.

"Then why do you keep doing the puppy eyes at me?"

"How can I not when you're sat there being... you."

"Ugh!" You groan, though inside you feel a little giddy with tiny butterflies. Traitors. "Then I'm gonna leave. You can study with Bryce."

"What? No. Don't leave." Justin reaches over to grab your hand. "Please."

"Then let me study in peace. Stop staring, creep-o."

Justin releases you and flops down onto his back on his bed. "I'll try my very, very best."

He crosses he fingers in the air and waves them at you. "Promise."

"Good."

You watch him close his eyes and sigh happily. He's so relaxed, and it makes you feel some sense of pride and solace, knowing that you can have this effect on him.

Leaning over his face, you cup his jaw and revel in his intake of breath when you surprise him with a kiss. You struggle when his hands find your waist, and he tries to pull you down. Wiggling free, you tap his cheek a few times and shake your head.

He whines, "That's it? One kiss?"

"Yep. Now, be quiet and let me sleep or do some of your own work."

"Fuck, do I have to?"

"If you want another kiss."

—☆—

Taglist: @mockerycrow @wqxianwriting

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

[jensensfanfic]

prompt #7 (general) w everyone’s fav danny larusso? ofc only if you feel up to it ml 🤍🫶

a/n: of course! i hope you like it.

pairing: daniel larusso x gn!reader

prompt: "Where does it hurt?"

warnings: injury - not detailed, reader is a bad dancer (lol), little bit of protective!daniel,

—☆—

One second, you were having a great time, dancing, and then the next, you were on the floor. You manage to catch yourself, but that only causes a yelp and a bruise to begin forming on your left hand.

"Hey! Watch it!"

Your head whips up when you hear Daniel yelling. "Daniel, stop!"

He turns away from the guy he had been glaring at and looks down at you with a worried expression.

"He didn't do anything. I tripped." You scramble to get up, and instantly, Daniel is on you, trying to help and not know how exactly. You roll your eyes, then grasp his hand and nod. He gets the message, pulling you up with ease. "You know I have two left feet."

"Sorry. Are you okay?"

"Tell him. And I'm fine, Danny."

Daniel turns around, but the man he'd shoved and shouted at is gone. "Maybe he'll be here next time we are? I'll apologise then."

"Hm." You don't let go of his hand as he leads you to a small, round table.

"Want a drink?"

"Sure. Thank you."

"What happened?" He asks, panicked. "Did you hurt yourself? Where does it hurt?"

Daniel smiles, but then right when he goes to get up, you accidentally bump your injured hand against the table.

You wince. "Owwaaah."

You huff as he plops back down, and his eyes roam over you. You know he'll never let it go if you don't show him, so you lay your hand palm up on the table in front of him.

As expected, he immediately scoops your hand into his and gently manoeuvers it around to inspect the damage.

—☆—

DANIEL LARUSSO MASTERLIST

[jensensfanfic]

can I get some smut for my baby Daniel with prompt 39 and 21? 🤭

prompts: "Don't make me wait." + "Don't look at me like that."

pairing: daniel x gn!reader

warnings: light smut, sparring, teasing

—☆—

"Don't look at me like that. I'm trying to focus here."

Daniel smirks as he backs away from your attempted jab with ease. "Why, am I distracting you?"

"Yes." You circle around each other, both watching for who will make the next move. "I told you I was gonna kick your ass and I fully intend on doing that."

"But?"

"If you keep looking at me like that, we're heading to the bedroom instead."

"You know," Daniel straightens up and drops his sparring stick. "I think you can knock me on my ass later."

You nod enthusiastically, and then you both move, clashing together in the middle of the dojo.

Daniel's arms circle your waist as you pull his face to your own and kiss him hard. He moans into the kiss, and it makes you feel smug, knowing you can have him all needy with just this.

—☆—

On the mat, in the middle of the dojo, Daniel has you laid out beneath him, your black belt discarded, and you gi open against the ground.

He's kissing your chest, occasionally nipping a little, leaving tiny marks where's he's been. You close your eyes and pull your lip between your teeth as he travels lower. Daniel's lips make the journey from your midsection to your stomach to your hips. Then he starts littering pecks along the top of your underwear. He licks, nips and kisses the area over and over, until you get impatient.

You buck your hips, then reach down and grip his face in your hands. "Daniel..."

"Hm? What?"

"You know what. Don't make me wait."

—☆—

DANIEL LARUSSO MASTERLIST

[jensensfanfic]

HII! clay x gn!reader x justin (it’s all platonic!!!! we are friends!!!!!!) where it’s late at night and you show up at their outhouse out of breath and damp from the rain saying the line, “i didn’t know where else to go” and clay and justin hang out with you?

of course, friend!!

pairings: justin x gn!reader/clay x gn!reader (both platonic)

warnings: a soggy reader (lol), angst themed - but there's nothing specific

a/n: I didn't really include the hanging out part, I'm sorry! I hope you still like it!

—☆—

Halfway through your short walk to your friends' house, you feel light drops of rain start to fall, and then all of a sudden, it's chucking it down. You throw up the hood of your jacket, but it doesn't do much good in keeping you dry. You start to run as you see a flash and then hear the booming claps of thunder.

—☆—

You arrive at the Outhouse, and your fist pauses mid-air when Clay opens the door before you can knock. He takes in the sight of you, drenched head to toe. "Uh– hi! I didn't know where else to go, I had to get out of my house, I–"

"Explain later– just–" Clay grips the front of your hoodie and pulls you inside. "Get in here, oh my God!" He kicks the door shut and then yells for his brother. "Justin! Dude, are you done in the shower!?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm right here, chill." You hear his footstep as he rounds the kitchen towards you and Clay. He pauses and then laughs. "Jesus fucking Christ. You look like a drowned rat."

"Justin, for fuck's sake." Clay rolls his eyes at him. "Just move so our friend here can go get changed."

Justin continues to chuckle as he walks over to his bed and dives on to it. He gets comfy with his head propped up against his pillows.

Clay takes your jacket and throws it straight into the laundry hamper. "I think you still have some clothes here, right?"

"Yeah, you do." Justin's head is already stuck into one of Clay's AKR comics. "Lainie washed them for you, they're in the second drawer."

"Thanks, guys." You kick off your heavy shoes, grimacing at the squelching sound they make as they hit the ground. "Do you mind if I shower, too?"

"'Course. You go get dry and warm, and I'll get a drink ready for you for when you're done. Then you can tell us what's up."

"Alright, thanks, Clay." You can't hug him with your dripping clothes on, so you go for a fist bump instead. Then you turn towards Justin. "You, too."

"Welcome." Justin says, peeking his head over the comic to see you. "Don't use the blue towel, by the way. It's, um... let's just say I was very sweaty after practice today. It's ripe."

Clay snorts, and you laugh. "Okay, yeah. Thanks, buddy."

—☆—

Taglist: @mockerycrow @wqxianwriting

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

[jensensfanfic]

HI FUNNY IDEA

Justin foley x gn!reader with the prompt “we’re way too drunk for this” and both are drunk, doing something really stupid late at night, like maybe they’re trying to steal a stop sign but they can’t stop laughing to get the job done

hahaha! okay! this is so short and so silly. also, i wrote it while at work, so 🤫😂

send me some prompts and i'll write a little fic for you

"justin, oh my god- what are you doing!?"

justin stumbles as he tries his best to pick up the fallen stop sign. "agh! fuck, this thing is heavier than it looks."

"then put it down, dummy." you walk over to him, wobbling as you go. grabbing one side, you nod at him and say, "we're way too drunk for this."

"you come to help me?"

"yuuuuuup." you lift with all your might, but in your current state, it's not much, and all you both manage to do is knock the sign face down. "shit!"

"dude!" justin drops to the ground with a loud huff. "that would've looked so dope in my room."

"you know what else would look so dope in your room?" you burst into a fit of laughter for a minute straight before you can even finish your failed attempt at a flirty joke. "me."

"what?" justin throws an arm around your shoulder and leans in close. "how would i stick you to the wall, though?"

"oh god!" you frown, "i don't know!"

you both start to laugh again until your stomach hurts, and justin starts to yell about needing to "pee before i explode."

taglist: @mockerycrow @wqxianwriting

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

[jensensfanfic]

hii!

can i request clay jensen x gn!reader with the prompt “i’ve been thinking about you”? like maybe they got into a fight and the reader has been avoiding him until clay decides it’s time for him to talk to them? if you don’t wanna do this, that’s fine :-)

hey! of course i'll write this for you. its a little messy, but i hope you enjoy!

send me some prompts and i'll write a little fic for you

"i'm sorry– i'm really sorry– i... no. shit! i–"

"the fuck are you doin', man?"

"shit! nothing. just- why are you home?"

justin frowns, a smirk on his red and sweaty face. "told you, i only wanted to go for a quick run."

"right." clay walks away from the mirror and into the light of the outhouse. "how was it?"

"fine, but i think i'm more interested in why you were apologising to your reflection." justin snort-laughs at his brother, then answers his own question. "you practising for a certain someone?"

"wait, how the fuck could you know that?"

"you literally haven't stopped talking about it for a whole week."

"shit, man, i'm sorry, it's just... you know how much i care about them, and–" clay plops down onto the edge of his bed, sighing.

"dude, it's fine. just stop talking to yourself in the mirror. just go and say sorry, it's not that difficult."

"how? i don't where to start... or what to say-"

"bro, you're so lucky you have me. just fucking do it. say how you feel, admit that you fucked up. simple."

--

about half an hour later, you receive a text from clay, asking if he could come over and talk. you immediately responded with a 'yes'. clay had been keeping his distance since you had asked for space, and quite frankly, a week was too long and you were starting to miss him. you would rather be mad while keeping him close still.

and also- it was a stupid fight. you both said dumb things that stung in the moment, but you both knew weren't meant to hurt the other.

when he arrives, you barely get a chance to open the door fully before he dives into a long apology speech. you try your best to listen to his rambling, but when he says, "i've been thinking about you", you stop him.

"wait, really?"

"yeah, of course. i haven't been able to stop thinking about you. i've probably been annoying the crap out of justin, asking him how you are, if you're upset, or angry about me-"

"you had justin check up on me?" clay's eyes widen, and then all of a sudden you're wrapping your arms around him. you hear his sharp intake of breath as he stumbles a little before circling his own arms around your waist. "you are such a dork."

"does this hug mean you forgive me?"

"yes." you pull back. "and i'm sorry, too. i've missed you, jensen."

taglist: let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist for clay and/or justin fics!

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

[jensensfanfic]

thinking about ellie x cam girl!reader again.

tiny, tiny drabble thing under the cut. like, really short. warnings too!

—

warnings: mentions of a lot of smutty things— paid sex work, latex, tit/pussy worship, strap, oral, creampie, ass play

—

thinking about ellie helping the reader film her personal paid content. oiling you up, helping you get dressed, or setting up the background to look all pretty. drawing fake tattoos over your arms for that one viewer who is obsessed with them. laughing with you as you struggle to get into your latex body suit for the dom stuff. and what about when a viewer requests tits or pussy worship. she'd suckle on your nipples, getting them all wet and perky. or, she would help by fucking you with her strap or eating you out beforehand, zooming in on her work after. she'd set up the perfect shot of your weeping cunt, proud of the mess she had made, how sated and relaxed you looked through the viewfinder. her mouth would water as she hit record for your creampie requester, watching as your legs lifted in the air and you clenched your hole before pushing out. she'd be desperate to dive in and lap up the cum that dripped down, down and between your cheeks, your ass twitching as it ran over the untouched hole she so wanted to play with someday. and of course, you always were more than happy to let her clean you up with her tongue after you thanked the buyer, and she switched off the camera.

—

more cam girl here ->

CAM GIRL (original/part 1)

CAM GIRL: SPECIAL GUEST (part 2)