#a silly little deadpan game show voice and make fun of the parts of conversations they overhear like ‘lucas sinclair we have a mystery

[upsidedog]

before she and her mom moved into forest hills, max had a rule about lucas not calling her house, she would call him when she could. and more often than not “when she could” was the middle of the night. lucas was obviously not crazy about this, but he knew enough about max’s home life to figure the slap on the wrist he’d get for one of his friend’s calling late was disproportionate to whatever would happen if neil or billy caught max. max was never caught, lucas’ parents slept through the phone ringing the first two nights, but the third night the ring woke them up and lucas’ nonexistent volume control gave him away. his mom got up to tell lucas to get off the phone, but when she arrived at his door it was immediately clear lucas wasn’t talking to one of his party members. he was audibly nervous and throwing out shy compliments left and right. he called his mystery friend pretty, then apologized a moment after. “oh sorry, how about beautiful? handsome? cool? tubular?” he laughed, they agreed on cool then continued their conversation about video games. he was so respectful and kind and smitten and sue wanted to be upset but honestly couldn’t have been more proud of her son. she just went back to her room and explained it all to charles, they’d have normally been more strict about that sort of behavior but it was so sweet and lucas was such a little gentleman, it reminded them of the start of their relationship, if they’d called him out he’d just get more secretive. so they let it slide, shook their heads and laughed whenever they overheard lucas’ scrambling for the phone at two in the morning, exchanged glances when he alluded to the “cool new girl” he may or may not have liked and when he introduced them to his mystery caller sue cashed in her bet for what her personality would be like. after the summer starcourt mall burned down they stopped hearing ringing in the night, mystery caller stopped showing up around the house, but again, lucas was grown, he would come to them when he was ready.

[lydias--stiles]

clandestine meetings and longing stares

juke secret dating au | title: illicit affairs // taylor swift | a middle of the night scribble

When twelve year old Julie Molina got a stern talk from her father that she wasn't allowed to date until college, the tween had no qualms with it. The only boy she's ever liked had been Sokka from Avatar and that was it. Real boys didn't interest her. 

Until she turned sixteen and caught sight of Luke Patterson. 

In the years between, she had small crushes here and there. Lance, Nick, Noah. None, however, competed with storm that erupted in her stomach each time Luke smiled at her - her heart in a constant frenzy. 

It was the beginning of junior year when he randomly sat next to her in music class and brought out all the bravado. It shouldn't have been cute. Julie should've rolled her eyes, dismissed his cute smirk, but she simply couldn't. The shimmering green of his eyes and the nice laugh was too alluring, too attractive. Soon enough, Julie was crushing on him hard. Which was fortunate, since he very much liked her as well, something he never hid from her. 

("Watch out, Julie," he joked during one of their first conversations. "The charm is gonna make you get a crush on me!") 

Luke kissed her two weeks after, chastely and secretly under the bleachers. Her infatuated mind forgot in that moment how she wasn't even allowed to look at a guy and eagerly kissed him back. It had been her first kiss and wow - what a perfect one at that. 

A beat later, she realised her mistake and told him about her dad's stupid rule. His face had crashed for all of ten seconds when a mischievous grin crawled on his lips (an expression that would get her into serious trouble one day) and said: "Why tell him?" 

Had it been any other boy, she would've shaken her head and regret kissing him. But this was Luke. She really liked Luke. The idea of not being with him, of not seeing where this could go, was a greater fear than her father's disappointment. In response, she snatched him back into a kiss he all too hungrily went along with. 

Rule #1: Don't date! Broken, busted, thrown out the window with a smile. 

It started off easy. At school, no one had to worry. She sat with him at lunch and let herself be coaxed under the bleachers and snuggled into his embrace at the end of the day. On the parking lot, she could pretend she was simply saying goodbye to her boyfriend and not going home to lie in her dad's face about why she was so overly chipper all of a sudden. 

(Luke made her so ridiculously happy it was unfair. Each time he surprised her with a hug, her feet lifted from the ground; each time they kissed, his thumbs grazed her cheeks like she was a precious gem; each time she came up with a clever lyric, he gave her the toothiest grin and called her all the cute nicknames he could think of. Boss, baby, babe, Lyric Queen.) 

God, she was complete mush for this boy. Sometimes she wondered if she was doing enough, not quite matching his overt display of affection, but she knew she must be doing something right if he never stopped smiling when she talked. That his eyes held a certain softness, timidness, reserved for her only. 

They outgrew school quickly. Both wanted to go on dates without raising suspicion, Luke wanted to come over and just be with her without causing havoc. 

"Why does the rule exist anyway?", he asked at the end of a cool December day. 

Julie toyed with the lapels of his red shacket. "It's dumb. I mean, I get it, but it's dumb." Sighing, she explained his reasoning. "He wants me to fully focus on school so that I can get into a good college. Once I secured that, then I'm allowed to have fun."

Luke frowned. "I- I guess I kind of get it."

Her eyes rolled teasingly. "You don't even want to go to college." 

"Correction: I wanna go to frat parties and have the college experience-" 

"Without the classes part," she deadpanned. His face fell flat, a giggle of her own following. 

His frown returned, a look she hated seeing. "You don't think he'll… I don't know, let go of that rule when he sees we're good?" His calloused hands slipped from her waist to softly cradle her face. Julie sighed, leaning into the touch. Resisting Luke and everything he did was hard. A smile twitched on his lips. "Would be pretty dope to come through the front door and kiss my girlfriend."

Her heart clenched at his confession. It would be amazing, but it sounded so unbelievable that it could easily be taken as a joke. Dad would go absolutely insane if she pulled something like that. Hey dad! Don't mind me as I jump into the arms of my boyfriend and he kisses me like a heartthrob from the movies! 

She should've known Luke would try something. His impulsivity was an admirable trait, she found, though the pebbles hitting her window past midnight have her such a fright that she cursed for a beat how one track minded he could be. Until she caught sight of him. Eyes twinkling in the moonlight, a wide smile, his casual stance. He pointed at her and she nodded, grabbing her phone to text him there was a ladder by the garage. 

Quiet like a ghost and quick like a fox, Luke snuck into her room, feet falling onto the floor with a soft thud. 

Butterflies raged in her stomach. Her secret boyfriend was here, in her room, right now, with her father sleeping just down the hall. 

"What're you doing here?", she whispered, already breathless from having him near. 

His nose scrunched up. "Trying to be romantic. Should I have called you first?" 

She shook her head. "It's fine. Maybe next time. It's-" Her arms slung around his shoulders, heart hammering a mile a minute. Her pyjamas were nothing special, an oversized pullover and sweatshorts, but it felt oddly intimate to be so cozy together. His own faded t-shirt was from a zoo in Oregon and his sweatpants softer than any of the ones she owned. Julie almost asked to borrow them, if it wasn't for his lips to swallow the words with a warm kiss. 

Her fingers slipped into his hair. Yeah. This was better than talking. 

It soon became routine. Every other week, Luke would text her a moon emoji and then climb into her room around midnight. They'd kiss and cuddle, Luke often leaving by five am and then making a whole show at school as if he hadn't seen her. Julie thought it was cute. If she could, she'd return the favour and go to his place, but Luke assured her she did not want that and, consequently, her father would just know. Unfortunately, she didn't have Luke's agility like some parkour champ. 

"Trust me, Jules, I don't mind," he told her at lunch while stealing a cherry tomato. "I like sneaking in."

Alex shot him a look. "You like feeling like the main character of a movie, that's what."

"You brainwashed me with romcoms, so it's your fault, dude,' Luke retorted, grinning when the blonde flipped him off. 

They got cocky though. Julie knew her dad would be gone during the day for a photography gig in Santa Monica, all the way on the other side of Los Angeles. It was the perfect excuse to get Luke over. Excited, Julie opened the front door for him with a flourish and did a silly courtesy. 

"Your first time using my door," she teased. "Must feel special."

His cocky nod made her roll her eyes. "Super special," he replied gravely, playing along. "She's been begging for me."

Her expression turned sour. "I haven't been begging for you." 

His smirk widened, tugging on a curl as he slipped past her. "Was I talking about you?" 

He didn't, but he did start making out with her the second they were in the safety of her bedroom, so she knew there wasn't much competition. 

That afternoon, they successfully avoided her dad's wrath and felt arrogantly confident about it. It made them daring. Pushing the limits, how far could they go, how blatant could they be before he knew? It was almost a game, the thrill part of the insane attraction she felt each time he snuck in. 

His strong arms were wrapped around her as she straddled his waist, kissing him. Every touch was languid and intentional, a searing passion that rippled her skin and left her mind empty. Kissing Luke always put her in a dreamy, blissful haze. Her fingers clawed at his shirt and he shrugged it off in one fluid motion, pulling her back in. His skin was warm, hers to explore. Julie grinned into the kiss. His fingers toyed with the hem of her top.  

"Julie?" 

They froze. Her dad. Other side of the door. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. As quietly as possible, the girl hoisted herself from his lap and motioned at her closet. 

"Julie?" The door handle began to shake. 

Her voice squeaked. "Just a second!" Luke tiptoes into her closet, Julie kicking his shirt under her bed as she ran to the door. Her flushed cheeks would be a dead giveaway had her father ever doubt her trust. Fortunately, Julie Molina was in the eyes of her family a perfect good girl. 

(The guy hiding in her closet would whisper something else in her ear.)

"Why is your door locked?" Dad frowned. "You never lock your door."

Julie shrugged, innocence leaking from her tone. "I can't have some privacy?" 

"Of course, Julie," he said, though his lips were pressed into a thin smile. This clearly wasn't the last time they'd talk about it. "I'm going to the store. Do you need something?" 

"No, thanks," she rushed. "Anything else?" 

"Uh, no. Don't lock yourself in, hm?" It was said as a joke, his brows lifted, but both she and her father knew he meant it. No more locking doors. Shit. 

When the front door fell shut and the car rumbled into the street, Luke reappeared with a careful smile. 

Julie sighed. "That… was close. Maybe we should stop hanging out right after school. I didn't even hear him coming up the stairs."

"Damn, Jules!” Peppering two kisses on her forehead, it did little to relief her stress. “Now that's an ego booster."

"I'm serious!" She huffed. "I hate this. I hate the rule and I hate that I'm making you put up with it."

"Hey, hey," he soothed. "It's shitty, yeah, but you're not making me do anything." Nodding at her lips, he added: "Your smile is already…" 

The smile bloomed on its own accord when he trailed off, edging closer. "What?" 

That little shake of his head almost made her kiss him, but she wanted to know what he was going to say, why his lips were parted in that wonderstruck expression. When nothing came, a curious hum rumbled in her throat as she placed her chin on his chest. 

He relented, tapping a finger against her cheek. “Your smile is already making me do dumb stuff.”

Oh, God. If he was going to continue saying things like that, she might actually fall in love with him. Back when Julie and Flynn were still obsessed with those relationship quizzes in magazines, she always claimed she’d like guys that weren’t so smooth with their words. She thought it meant they were players. But Luke never half-assed anything. 

Her head tilted, amused. “Do you always have words ready?”

“Zero words, Jules,” he quipped. “Ever.”

Yeah, she might actually love him. 

Public dates became a thing after that conversation. She simply couldn’t let him get away because of some rule, even if he claimed he wouldn’t. Eats & Beats was a cute, little café in the heart of Los Feliz with live music and amazing lattes; it was also their regular spot. They’d settle themselves into a booth, share a baked good (“If we’re trying the carrot cake now, we’re doing the pastel de nata next week.” “Deal.”) and talk for hours. Sometimes, when either was tinkering on a song, they’d work on it together.

One leg overlapped his, his fingers drawing pictures on her knee. The booth with the suede red couches and the scratching of a star in the wood was their safe haven.  

“Mh, no,” she swallowed the piece of muffin. “That’s such an ugly word, don’t use that.”

He grinned, shoulders nudging as a tease. “Drencher not doing it for you?”

A laugh bubbled up, kissing his cheek. “Just use ‘rain’, you dork!”

“Dork?”, he mocked, getting in her face. 

“Yeah.” Her nose brushed his. “Dork.” 

“You are a dork.”

“That’s the best you’ve got, Patterson?”

Luke smirked, eyes flicking across her frame. “Want me to show you my best, Molina?”

She pushed his face away, a blush creeping up her cheekbones. They haven’t done it yet, but whenever he got like this, she felt her entire skin heat up at the mere idea. A part of her wanted to take that step, but she felt bad doing it if her dad or tía didn’t know. Knowing that they wouldn’t support her for as long as the rule existed, made her settle with that heat for a little longer. Her leg slipped from his and turned back to his songbook. 

“So-”

“Julie?”

The couple looked up, once more paralysed as her dad’s familiar voice called her name. Why was he literally everywhere?! His tall figure stood in front of their booth, his hat shrouding the grimace on his face as his scrutinising eyes flitted between them. Oh, God. Did he know? Did he see? How much did he see? Did he see Luke checking her out? Mortification didn’t even come close to what she felt. 

“Dad!” Her pressed smile hopefully looked relaxed to him. Her dad had moments of obliviousness; she might be able to save this. “What- hi, I didn’t know you had a booking here.”

His suspicion didn’t waver. “Yeah, honey, for the Rodriguez’ - I told you last night. Was just getting, ah, coffee.” He nodded at Luke. “Who’s this?”

My boyfriend. The one I’m falling for. The boy I’ve been hiding for months. “This is Luke, he’s one of my classmates.” The way his arm tensed at the label made her ache, but she had to truck on. “We’re working on a song.”

If he didn’t believe her, she just hurt her boyfriend for no reason. It did the trick though. Her father’s face mellowed, noticing the scribbles in the tattered book. “You’re working on a song?”

“Yeah. It’s really getting along.” Her finger tapped against his thigh. “Right, Luke?”

He perked up, a cough following as he straightened his attitude. This really was not the way she wanted them to meet. “Uh, yeah.” His hand stuck out. “Hi, mister Molina.”

Dad shook it with a smile, fully relaxed now. “Ray. Nice to meet you.” The barista called out his name. “See you at home, Julie. Don’t stay out long, yeah?”

Her smile twitched and crashed the second he turned around, grabbed his coffee and closed the glass door. She groaned, dropping her head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“I gotta be honest,” he whispered. “That hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

Luke sighed. “I was okay being a secret before, but…”

She coaxed his jaw, needing him to look at her. “It’ll hurt more if I tell him and forces me to break up with you.”

For a moment, silence sunk onto the table, wedging itself like thick smoke between her and Luke. He seemed pensive, the green of his eyes peering. Suddenly, they lit up. “But wait, aren’t you getting your results? Early admission?”

She sagged in her seat, pouting. “If UCLA wants me.”

“They will,” he smiled. His arms wrapped around her. “Of course, they will. And if you get in, he can’t be mad that you’re dating me, right?”

Hope tinged her chest. She hasn’t considered that. She’s been so focused on Luke and trying to keep it hidden, that everything college-related went over her head. The letters and essays and interviews happened before she and Luke got serious, so with her being on that pink cloud ever since, school stress has been locked away. Why bother mulling over UCLA when she could be having fun with Luke? 

If she locked in UCLA… then Luke might be right. And if not UCLA, then she’d hear of USC and NYU next year. (If they were even still together by the time those letters got in the mail.) 

“You might’ve found the loophole,” she teased, hoping to lift the tension. And then she uttered out her biggest fear: “But if you haven’t… will you stay?”

His kiss answered her, soft and sweet and with a hint of blueberry muffin. A grin bloomed on her lips, burrowing her face in his shoulder. She felt it. That overflowing, unbridled adoration overwhelming her all at once. Julie loved him. It was April fourteenth and it only took her six months but Julie loved Luke. They stayed in the booth until they had to go home.

Her phone was mocking her. Luke and her were in her car, stagnant, as both stared at the white screen. Every few minutes, she refreshed it, yet no email came. Gah! Couldn’t colleges just send the email when they said they would? What was taking so long? Did that mean she didn’t get in? Was this a bad sign? It helped having Luke there, easing the rising stress that clenched her ribcage, but she wouldn’t be fully okay until that freaking email come through. 

As if sensing her thoughts, he drummed against the dashboard. “It’s gonna be cool. You look great in blue and gold, you gotta get in.”

She giggled, nerves lacing her tone. “Imagine if that’s how you got in. You’d get into USC then.”

“Are you saying I look hot in red?”, he teased. 

“You know you- oh my God!” She lurched for her phone as a new email pinged in, heartbeat stuttering in her ears. Frozen, her thumb hovered over the fated email. This would change everything - for better or for worse. She knew she should focus on the fact that it would determine where she’d go to college, but all she could think about was Luke, Luke, Luke. Was it selfish to care more about junior prom then UCLA? At this very moment, she thought it was completely justified. 

She shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t do it. You open it.”

His brows raised. “You sure?”

“Yeah-” She stuffed the phone in his hand and put her trembling ones on her lap. “-do it for me.”

Luke took a deep breath. Julie shut her eyes. Please. Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please accept her. Please let her be with Luke.

Ten seconds passed. His voice gave nothing away. “Julie?”

“Just rip the band-aid off,” she choked out.   

A familiar, calloused hand softly grabbed hers. Her eyes cracked open. Luke had the biggest smile on his face and it made her heart pop out of her chest. She bit down on her lip, fighting off a grin. “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not,” he sang, reaching across the console to show her phone. You got accepted! blinked in bold, black letters. “You’re UCLA bound, baby!”

Euphoria burst out. Julie squealed, throwing her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a searing kiss. She got in! She fucking got into college! A great one at that! Another Molina was going for gold! 

And it might even get her to date Luke without secrecy. God, she hoped this was enough. She wanted to do everything with him. All the time, the entire time. Flynn has called them clingy, but Julie just wanted to get rid of the anxiety of her dad finding out. To finally relax and be fully with him.

Her head tilted, bashful. “Is it crazy to say that I might be in love with you?”

He dropped her phone in the cupholder and peppered another kiss on her mouth. “No. That’s good.” His thumb traced her bottom lip, eyes glittering with adoration. “Cause I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you too.”

She pecked his thumb, giddy. “Fuck it. Let’s tell my dad right now. About UCLA and you.”

He smiled. “You sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Storming inside the house, the couple made a beeline to her dad’s office, his hand in hers. 

“Dad!”, she called out, door slamming open. Her startled father perked up in his seat, his wide eyes going from Julie to Luke right behind her. “I got into UCLA!”

Ray sprung up, cheering. “Mija-!”

“And I’m dating Luke!”, she yelled after. “And that’s okay, cause I got in, so you don’t have to worry about the rule anymore! So... ” She put her foot down, awkwardness creeping in her tone. “Yeah!”

Flabbergasted, dad faltered and let the cheers die in his throat. Luke came to stand next to her, squeezing her hand. Slowly, he nodded. “Ah… so that time in Eats & Beats-”

“A date,” she admitted. “And I’m sorry I went behind your back, papa, but I… really care about Luke. And we figured that if I got in, you’d stop enforcing the dating rule.”

His grap became even tighter. “I, uh, really care about her too,” Luke mustered. “Sorry that we kept it a secret.”

Ray sighed, propping his head in his hands and scrubbing the confusion away with his palms. The pair shot each other a look. He wasn’t mad, she deduced, so that was a good sign at least. Finally, dad moved again and gave her a tight hug. Her confidence grew, hugging him back and withholding a cry of victory. 

He pulled back, crossing his arms with a hint of amusement. “Well… the rule clearly didn’t work, but you seem happy and you- you did actually get in, right?”

She laughed, nodding, and showed the confirmation email. His smile grew. “Then I guess,” he trailed, “you’re allowed. To date. But no funny business!”

Julie quickly nodded, grabbing back onto Luke’s arm and jostling him in excitement. Luke bounced on his heels, trying to temper it but failing miserably. She thanked her dad, promised him they’d celebrate her acceptance later tonight and rushed back out with Luke. Dad yelled something about establishing new rules, but both gleefully ignored it. Once in her bedroom, he snatched her into a tight embrace, kissing her full on the lips. Julie whooped against his mouth and danced between his arms. This might be the best day of her life! Luke was her real real real boyfriend!

“You heard your dad, Jules,” he teased. “No funny business.”

She pouted, faux-peeved. “You won’t get to climb through my window again.”

“Won’t have to hide in cars anymore.”

“Won’t have to say you’re just my classmate.”

Luke dragged them onto her bed, laying side by side. “I can take you to junior prom.”

She kissed him with a giggle. “You’re taking me to prom?”

“Hell yeah, I am!”, he bellowed, drumming his fingers against her hips. “Let your dad take pictures of us and everything.”

She scrunched her nose. “Let’s maybe not push him just yet.”

“Yeah,” he exhaled, humming in agreement. “You’re probably right.”

Luke did that her to junior prom, to homecoming, to senior prom, called her hot in blue and gold and vetoed no when she begged him for a bright, blue velour couch for their first apartment. When someone asked her father what it was like, seeing his daughter find the one at sixteen, he had to admit with embarrassment red on his cheeks that it all flew under his radar.

That it all started with sneaky bleacher kisses and a hopeful heart. 

@blush-and-books @ourstarscollided @sophiphi @bluefirewrites​ @willexx​ @unsaid-emily​

[anotherloganstan]

The Hurt - DRLAMP

Summary: Janus has become to feel a little more left out of the group, it hurts him so much but perhaps he’s hurting himself more than the others are hurting him after all.

A/N: Thanks to @treeni for commissioning this piece and also to @candied-peach who this is written for as well, enjoy! 

Warnings: angst, self-hatred, pining, hurt/comfort, getting together (with the others already in an established relationship)

Word count: 3k

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

Janus is a lot of things, sarcastic, harsh, a liar, a little mean when he needs to be, but also emotional. But those walls were built up so high they even rival Logan’s own, well, before the somewhat recent development that is. And Janus was hurt. Painfully, deeply so. It hurt to see them together. To see them all together. The way Patton pulls each one of them into a hug only to hesitate when it came to Janus, that hurt. The way Virgil would make each and every one their signature drink only to ‘forget’ Janus’, that hurt. The way Roman would ruffle their hair, place the most delicate kiss onto a forehead – aside from his brother who more often than not got an affectionate slap over the head and a laugh – it still hurt. The way Logan will sit curled up close to another, holding hands while he reads, that hurt. And the way Remus, he closest friend, took off and left him for them, perhaps that hurt the most.

But he could not show that, could he? He was strong, a force to be reckoned with, spiteful, petty, and yet still hurt.

Many nights he spent alone, listening to giggles and laughs, loud conversations between the thin walls, sharp tears stinging his eyes and sniffles muffled by his pillows. It really, really hurt. The deep pain in his chest stabbing, aching, irrational, absurd. He was jealous. So very painfully jealous. Not of any of them in particular, no, he was jealous that he wasn’t a part of whatever they had, this closer, more intimate relationship that clearly, he was not worthy of. They did not want him, they did not need him, he was nothing to them, nothing but someone, something, to use, a convenience, to be there whenever they needed him to be of service and nothing else.

He could not help those painful, poisonous thoughts from plaguing his brain, his thoughts, his dreams. It got him down.

*

It’s a movie night, Janus is certain, the loud singing from the twins and Patton, the boisterous giggling, even the undignified screeches of ‘hey!’ from Virgil and Logan every so often. Janus is missing out but then again, he wasn’t invited. It is late anyway, too late to join them. Maybe he should simply go to bed, he won’t sleep but he’s not doing anything else either, other than wallowing in his own self-pity and depressing thoughts.

He gets up, puts on one of his favourite silk robes and decides that he looks decent enough to be seen and walks downstairs, even just to see what’s going on. Even just, for a moment, to feel like he’s involved.

But it is a bad idea. Seeing Roman sat on the floor between Patton’s legs, the other man playing with his hair in a way that must be soothing as Roman’s eyes are closed blissfully, yet a smile on his lips and giggles still slip past. Beside Patton is Logan, leaning against him but talking lowly with Virgil beside him – probably about something that set them all off laughing in the first place. Remus then beside him, well, half atop of Virgil who simply chooses to ignore him and his maniacal laughter for the most part.

“Shh, be quiet, we don’t want to wake Janus up,” Patton scolded the seemingly endless giggles from the others but unable to stop himself from snickering as Remus unceremoniously falls off the couch and onto the floor between his fit of laughter.

“Don’t worry, I’m already awake,” he says, deadpan and serious, if only to mask the slight hurt of once again not being invited nor included to one of their group hangouts.

“Oh, Janus, we’re sorry!” Patton apologises immediately, hand over his mouth to cover the remnants of his laughter. And Virgil at least has the decency to kick at both of the twins to get their attention, giving them ‘a look’ which they must understand as ‘shut the fuck up immediately’ because they fall almost completely silent.

Great, now he’s ruined their fun.

“It’s alright, Patton, I was awake already, continue, it seems like you were all having a good time,” he says, unable to stop the bitterness from seeping into his voice. God, he is such a bitch.

“Ah, we apologise, Janus, we assumed you were having a ‘self-care’ day as we hadn’t seen you all morning and this afternoon,” Logan explains from his position half on Virgil’s lap and half on the couch leaning against Patton.

“Right,” Janus responds, unsure of what else to say, should they not have assumed? Should they have come to him to ask if he was busy? Maybe that would have been nice, but he knows he would have been intruding much like he is now.

So, he lies. Again. Like he always does.

“Quite right, Logan,” he continues, at least attempting to sound somewhat unfazed and confident and content, “I have just come for a glass of water then I think a bubble bath and face mask is in order. Please do enjoy your movie.”

They do. Or at least Janus assumes they do. He gets his unnecessary glass of water from the kitchen and takes it back to his room, listening as they resume their movie, and the giggles start up almost as soon as he leaves. That only stings a little. He tries to brush off the feeling that maybe they are laughing at him. They would not, he knows, but the voice in his head tells him that anyway. He takes a bath regardless to keep up appearances and not to seem like such the filthy liar he actually is. They all hate his lies anyway.

*

He catches them again a few nights later. Perhaps they are not caught, after all this is all their kitchen, but Janus, again, feels as if he is intruding on something intimate. Date night, he presumes. Virgil on his usual place atop the countertop, in a slightly more formal purple jumper and jeans, sticking his fingers into something sweet whenever Patton, in the adorable pink apron, turns his back to scold at Remus for touching the hot trays. Roman sits at the table, poised and as beautiful as ever, clearly dressed up for the event, adding garnish to what must be their starter course. Logan sits beside him, stirring together some sort of dressing for the salad, listening but not participating to the conversation Roman and Virgil are having from across the kitchen.

“Janus, come in,” Logan says, having clocked him the moment he came to be at the doorway.

Janus flushes, unable to stop himself, the hurt and guilt combining, yet the invitation warms him just a little.

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” he responds, almost sheepishly. He feels very underdressed in front of them all, even Logan seems to have made an effort (though he doubts of his own free will).

“You wouldn’t be imposing, we’ve made enough for all six of us,” Logan says, the barest hint of a smile gracing his features and Janus is sure he wants to make Logan smile like that and more in the future.

“I shouldn’t, you all should be able to enjoy your date night without the need to babysit me, I would merely get in the way,” he tries, hoping that his raw emotion is not slithering through his somewhat humorous words.

Logan sighs. And Janus cannot help feeling as though he is the source of this disappointment, this frustration. But he does not say anything.

“What our nerd is trying to say is we want you here,” Roman interrupts, voice as loud as before, bringing the attention of others onto Janus who merely wishes he had not come at this point, “you can’t be imposing if you have an invitation, sorry, you’re not even cool enough to gate crash anyway.”

The good-natured insult makes Janus almost reconsider. Almost. Lost for a moment in thought, barely a smile on his face until it drops suddenly. He shouldn’t let himself feel too comfortable around them, especially on their date night, least he fall victim and break his own heart with false hope.

“I shan’t tonight, boys,” he says after a moment, all eyes on him, and he avoids looking at their faces – hoping to not see a look of disappointment or even more so a look of relief at his departure – “have a lovely night though.”

With that he is gone.

*

It is a few days later that he breaks. All the feelings trapped inside of him, festering inside of his soul and willing to break free. It was the glimpses of kisses, becoming the background for sensual touches and too long hugs, of soft whispers he definitely was not supposed to overhear, to the sounds of shrieked laughter from down the hall and loud conversations he had no part it. Their own little lives he had- has no part in.

*

They are in the living room again, music on low and the bursts of chatter flowing down the corridor and Janus’ curiosity gets the better of him. Sticky notes stuck to all their foreheads and smiles on their faces – that he tries to tell himself they all do not drop when he enters – playing some sort of silly game.

“Janus!” Patton exclaims at the same time Remus shrieks “I’m not a chicken?”

“Sorry for interrupting, I’ll just go.”

“Wait!” Roman raises his voice from between the grumbling amongst Remus and Virgil with Logan as a somewhat bored mediator.

Roman is at his side in an instant, having no issue manhandling Janus to face him, his smile big and infectious, almost making Janus believe he wants him there, but he knows he’s just being polite.

The other goes to say something before his face changes and what comes out instead is, “are you okay?”

And they have not asked that for a while. And Janus is not sure for the real answer. So, he lies. As always.

“I’m fine.”

It came out harsh, clipped, angry.

“You don’t seem it, are you sure?”

“I said I’m fine, leave it at that.”

“Okay,” Roman relents, “I mean, you don’t have to go just because we’re all in here, we do realise that you don’t spend so much time with us anymore, and that’s okay! Just, you don’t have to go because we’re in here too.”

“Yes, Roman, I do. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What wouldn’t I understand?”

“Any of it. I just… I can’t be around you all, it’s too much.”

He stops just short of telling Roman that it hurts. It pains him.

“Janus,” Roman begins, voice soft and gentle, not wanting to spook Janus, “you know you can tell me anything and I’m here for you, right?”

And Janus is sure if Roman held out his arms now that he would merely fall into the hug, cry and collapse against the romantic and let everything out.

Instead, he responds, “of course, Roman,” and takes his leave despite everything telling him to stay.

*

Alone, again, once more. You would think he has become used to the silence and the loneliness, sadly not. He lies on his bed, lights out aside from the small lamp on his bedside table, dressed for bed yet not tired, no, merely exhausted. He considers getting up for a glass of water (and telling himself he definitely will not change his mind and reach for the wine once in the kitchen) but then there is a knock at the door. A sharp, pristine, calculated knock.

Had it been anyone else Janus may not have opened the door, not in the mood for a loud, over exertive interaction. But he knows Logan stands on the other side of the door, perhaps alone, perhaps not. Janus does not know which he would prefer in all honestly.

He gets up and unlocks the door all the same, opening it to reveal Logan as he assumed, in his navy sleep shirt and shorts, and Virgil, looking a tad more tired and sheepish than the other, in a black tank top and joggers.

And Janus does not know what persuades him, but he opens the door further and says, “do come in, it’s not at all late.”

Virgil falters for a moment before trailing behind the seemingly oblivious Logan. And, well, Janus could make a joke about how he never anticipated these boys in his bed, but he decides against it.

“Janus, we are sorry for the late interruption but we thought it best to come and talk to you regarding, uh, the other day and we assumed that you would not appreciate being cornered by all of us so myself and Virgil thought it wise to approach you alone, apologies if this is an uncomfortable subject matter for you but we deem it necessary,” Logan explains, eyes on Janus as Virgil seems to be suddenly very interested in the black silk sheets.

Janus all but forces a casual smirk and wills his tone to remain calm as he closes the door and stays standing as far away from the others as possible, “I understand, my outburst the other day was most certainly uncalled for and will never happen again, forgive me.”

“That is not at all what we mean, Janus,” Logan responds after a beat, “and I think you know that deep down.”

Another pause.

“What exactly do you mean then?” Maybe his tone is too harsh, volatile, defensive. He can tell by the way Virgil flinches ever so slightly.

Logan opens his mouth to say something but clearly thinks best of it and closes it again. And Janus has never been more angry with himself than now.

“What Logan is trying to say is, well, you’ve noticed that we’re all kind of, uh, together-ish, well, mostly and we want to say that… we’d like to, I don’t know, extend the invitation to you too, fuck, that sounds really fucking formal,” Virgil finally grits out, voice quiet and rough, clearly nervous as his fingers pick at the sheets and he meets neither of their gazes, “we like you a lot, Janus, and we realised that we’ve kind of been dicks to you without even realising it and, well, that’s shitty of us and we’re sorry but we want you in this fucked up little relationship of ours too, it’s not the same without you.”

Janus, well, he laughs. He can’t help it, a short, sharp laugh escaping him before he can stop himself. He is sure Virgil is overly anxious especially now and he would not be surprised if Logan got up any moment and punched him in the face.

“Sorry, I just- it is kind of funny how I always thought you all never wanted me, you never needed me, I just assumed that, well, you were all doing just fine without me and you made that all very fucking clear,” he says, voice wavering, “I felt so, so excluded and you all just did nothing. I was so fucking alone, I had no one, you left me Virgil, you left us, and- well, fuck, Remus left and then I had no one. So, excuse me for feeling a little pissed off at you all.”

He sighs, runs a hand through his messy bed-head before coming to sit at the bottom of his bed across from the other two.

“I love you all, I do, individually and in some ways different to others but I loved you all and it hurt me so much to see you all go, it broke my fucking heart, and I don’t know if it’s fixable.”

They’re both looking at him now, softly, gently, beautifully.

“But I was jealous, so very jealous.”

He lets himself cry, silently, wiping away the tear trails with his bare hands. That is until each of his hands in captured by either man on his bed with him. Virgil’s hand is soft and warm, comforting, and familiar. Logan’s is cold, his fingers longer and able to touch more of Janus’ own, it makes him feel secure in a new way.

“We’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

*

They talk. All of them. Sometimes together, sometimes just two or three of them. Janus is slowly opened up to their relationship dynamic that is far more complex than he would have imagined. And he realises he does not want to kiss all of them in that way, only wants to hold some of them, touch some of them more intimately. But he wants all of them in their own special ways. He becomes closer to them all over time.

He kisses Patton on the forehead for the first time and the father figure bursts into tears and does not let him out of a hug for at least an hour when the others find them. He’s fond of holding Virgil’s hand, it is almost how they used to be but different, more open and accepting of their emotions, it is nice in a way Janus would never have thought of before. He enjoys kissing Roman, gently on his mouth, or even just catching his cheek, it is soft and the romantic flushes before offering a sweet kiss in return or, heaven forbid, a kiss on his hand. As for Logan he enjoys his presence, leaning up against one another late at night or early in the morning when the others are still in bed or occupied, reading or listening to music, there is a soft, unspoken love and gentleness between them.

Then there is Remus. For a while, the other does not dare come near him alone out of fear. And Janus understands the same feeling. Regret, guilt, abandonment. But when he finally gets Remus alone, gets his arms around the other’s torso and buries his head into the crook of his neck. He never wants to let him go again.

He never wants to let any of them go.

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

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[bahannah01writes]

Sweet Dreams, My Dear (Part 29) Markiplier x Reader

       To say the least, you had bundles of fun with the lads. Mark introduced you to them, starting with Bob and then Wade, and showed you the basics of the game. The goals were fairly easy to understand; if you’re a prop, don’t get caught, if you’re a hunter, find and eliminate the props before the time runs out. In addition to the new boisterous boys, ol’ Jackaboy joined in as well! There was no shortage of laughter or swearing as they started to play, Mark tried to save face for your sake if only for a few before he cracked and began swearing himself. He tried to offer an apology, but you were too busy laughing from his most peculiar euphemisms and swears that you can’t say you expected. Glad that you found even his frustrated ramblings funny, he no longer tried to censor himself and allowed it all to roll off his tongue as usual.

    However, when Wade tried to bring up the bonercast, the rest of the three feigned offense due to the fact that there is a ‘lady’ in their presence. Mark then tried to teach you how to tease Wade properly, and while you objected, he assured it would be okay. Yet, when you made a playful comment in jest towards Mark a moment after, he acted as if you stabbed him a million times in his darling little heart. Wade, Bob, and Jack -on the other hand- couldn’t stop laughing for about five minutes.

    When Mark finally let you play, you stumbled a tad bit and were more frantic than you originally expected to be. In the first round, you were a prop and you found your heart beating as the adrenaline courses through your veins at the excitement of such a little activity. And you’d rather not admit how many times you yelped because you had gotten caught. Mark and the rest of the boys also never expected you to repeat a few of the words Mark yelled out in frustration, yet you did all the same. Nothing too bad, but a simple exclamation of ‘shit’ or ‘damn it’ every now and then. Mark more or less stood agape when it happened for the first time, you had merely rolled your eyes playfully at his action.

   An hour or so has passed since then and you now find yourself craving something salty, “Hey Mark?”

    “Yes?” He answers, half paying attention as his character roams the screen scanning the area for props.

    “Do you have any salty snacks I can make?”

    His eyes leave the screen for your own beautiful orbs as he ponders, “We’ve got popcorn?”

    “Popcorn…” You mumble to yourself and nod at the thought of the buttery, salty treat, “Will you eat some too, Mark?” While you’d love to think that you can eat a whole bag, you aren’t quite positive and knowing Mark will eat some too, is reassuring.

    “I don’t see why not,”

    “Great! I’ll be right back then!” You chime, giving him a light pat on his shoulder before leaving. Once you left; however, a cheeky snicker echoes out from the mic of an Irishman. Almost instantly when he hears his friend-across-the-pond’s snicker, Mark lets out a drawn out groan.

    “Do not start this-”                                                                                                                                                                                                                         “Told ya’ Mark’s got a girlyfriend!” Sean pipes in a matter-of-fact way.

    “I do not, she’s-”

    “Signe’s told me everything! They’re friends now by the way, but it sounds like the two of ya’ are real cozy!”

    “Gotta say, I’m impressed Mark. She seems like a good match-”

    “We’re not-”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 “She’s out of your league, Mark,” Wade teases playfully, his own laugh making an appearance along with the lingering Irishman’s laugh.

    “Guys, just listen okay?” Seeing as no one spoke up after this, the redhead continues, “We are not together, I wish we were, but we’re not.”

    Despite Mark not being able to see this action, Sean furrows his brows in confusion, “Why not?”

    Sighing, Mark runs a hand through his faux fire locks, “She has to leave soon, tomorrow or the next day actually. Her family apparently wants her to come back home to Maine. The distance… I’d be willing but, it doesn’t seem logical, you know?”

    A sullen air falls on the previously lively conversation, not exactly awkward, just… a disconsolate air, possibly? Mark feels his heavy heart weigh him down as he begins to realize the reality of the situation.

    “Can you get her to stay?” Bob’s kind voice inquires, the game truly being put to a stop even if it’ll only be for a bit longer.

    “I don’t know,” Mark admits, he’d love to try but, “I just, I don’t want to pressure her into staying either though.”

    “Doesn’t mean you can’t try,” Wade points out, “Either way, do what you think is best, Mark.”

    Mark bites his lip and nods, “I know… Let’s just talk about something- Wait, guys, I’ll be right back…” He takes a stand and makes his way downstairs into the kitchen where he discovers a, well, an interesting scene to say the least.

    The fire alarm has been instigated due to the smoke clouding the air. All the while, he sees you looking on in panic to the growing silver mass on the stove that’s not only making those oh-so familiar popping noises but a constant hiss erupting from the top as well.

    Your eyes dart to his, wide and frantic asking for help from the rather built man. He slowly walks towards you, confusion written in his expression despite the start of his low chuckling, “You need help?”

    “Please,” Your eyes looking lost as the pan on the stove continues to hiss.

    Mark reaches over into the living room, grabs a pillow, and swats the smoke away to get rid of the obnoxious alarm. “Everything alright?” Matt yells from his room, not exactly worried himself.

    “Yeah! Nothing to worry about,” Mark hollers back up as the beeping finally ceases, thankfully. He then moves the oddly intimidating popcorn pan onto an unused burner, which then put a stop to its noises too, “All good?”

    You sigh in relief and nod, “Yeah, thank you,” You pause as you shake your head, “I don’t know what happened, it was fine one minute and I look away for only a second because Chica passed by and how could I not pet her? But when I look back, it was this giant gray… thing! It hissed !” You exclaim, still not fully understand what went wrong. You’ve always been quite the creator, being bested by such a trivial invention is disheartening!

    Mark pinches the bridge of his nose, a giant grin spreads across his features, “Did you notice that we have microwave popcorn too?”

    In an automatic reaction of hearing such news, you deadpan, hand covering your now blushing face, “We do?”

    “We do,” He reinstates, amused at your realization, “You could’ve just grabbed a bag and put it in for like, two minutes, and it would’ve been over with already. To think someone who can make crepes and these amazing desserts can’t make popcorn, well, nice job, chickadee.”

    You playfully swat at him, “Oh shut up, Mark,” albeit, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a light laugh from the irony in that truth. You think for a second before poking him in the center of his chest, “Icecream?”

    “Since you can’t burn it, let’s do it!” He winks and leans over to grab out two bowls along with two spoons, “You good with cookie dough?”

    “Certainly!”

    “Alright, and I can get it set up, so go ahead and tell the guys we’re not dead, ‘kay?” His eyebrow quirks up and you nod.

    “Okay, thanks, Markimoo!” He simply hums in response as you jog up the stairs and into his room, happily waving to the camera and greeting the boys again, “Back! Sorry, there was a… complication.”

    “With popcorn?”

    “It’s complicated, but now we’re going to eat ice cream so it’s all good, how’s the game been going?” You ask wanting to forget your disgraceful mistake.

    “Great! Despite you n’ Mark bein’ gone, our team is winnin!” Sean informs, proudly.

    “That’s only cause Wade didn’t realize we started playing again and let Jack kill him twice before he realized,” Bob defends with a whine from a hurt Wade following after.

    “No one told me!”

    “Oh great, is Wade already making excuses?” Mark playfully groans as he re-enters the room, “Tsk tsk, c’mon Wade, be better than that. Be a better person! Be someone like me!” He chuckles softly as he hands you your bowl of the delectable frozen treat.

    “Either way, I think I’m cool with just watching now, I don’t want my icecream to melt. So, you boys have fun fighting amongst yourself!” You giggle shaking your head at their silly teasing between one another.

    “Just remember to have a nice time!” And as soon as the pun slips off of Wade’s tongue, a chorus of groans follow.

    “You just ruined her nice time, Wade!”

    ‘God damn it, Wade!”

    “Oh boy, I’m really going to get creamed in this upcoming round for that, huh?” Another chorus of groans follow, although you try your best not to laugh.

    “I’m not helping you anymore if you say another one,” Bob warns and begrudgingly, Wade agrees not to tell anymore puns. Or he at least tries to…

    He fails at this task.

    The game ended not too long ago, each one signing off and saying again it was nice to meet you, except for Jack who told you he’ll hopefully talk to you soon. You still aren’t tired though, Mark is, but you aren’t. Mark stretches as he walks towards his bed and then proceeding to jump on it with a content sigh once he lands. “Sleepy?” You ask as if to simply confirm your thoughts.

    “Very,” He answers, his eyes resting on the ceiling; lost in his own thoughts.

    “I’ll go ahead and leave you then, good-”

    “Wait,” He props himself up on his elbows a question lingering on his tongue just daring to be asked as he watched you freeze mid-way to his door. He has your full attention, he knows he does, but does he dare ask? The temptation is killing him and Mark knows it may be his last opportunity to even ask a question of this sort. God, he wants to ask.

     The moonlight reflecting in your gorgeous irises like gentle light reflecting off a pond; they manage to look right through him; right into him, straight to his soul. The blue light passing through his white curtains and laying against your skin, illuminating it in a stunning way he’s never seen before that makes him never want to let you go. Yet, you’ll be leaving soon and if he gets any closer, how will he handle you leaving for God knows how long? You’re like a forbidden fruit, a precious stone that’ll only crumble if touched, or a brilliant flame that will burn if someone gets too close; a temptation all the same that he isn’t willing to give up so easily although he knows he has to. It’s not his decision and he knows it isn’t his place to interfere. So, does he dare get even closer if it’ll only result in more pain when he no longer has you to hold? Can no longer be embraced with such love and warmth that he’s never felt before you came along? Can no longer see that breath-taking smile or silly laugh that makes his heart soar? Is it worth it?

    Mark doesn’t know. He really doesn’t, but what he does know is that he has you now. That in this moment, you have nowhere to go and nor does he, so after much thought, he allows the question to leave his lips, “(Y/n) can you stay with me tonight?” Quite juvenile, he knows. Yet, he only wants to hold you in a midnight embrace one more time. Maybe it will leave him hurting more, but maybe he’ll be content and be ready to let you go when tomorrow comes.

    The question takes you by surprise and with a blink of your eyes, you slowly start to nod and allow a soft, bittersweet smile to capture your expression, “I’d love to Mark. Let me change into my PJs and I’ll be right back, sound good?”

    “Sounds great,” A soft chuckle escapes him as you offer a small wave before leaving to go change. He can’t help the smile that spreads across his lips as he remembers your PJs; his old T-shirt and basketball shorts. A fact that will always make him smile no matter where you are.