#in case u can’t tell i rarely read pop fic

[sethdomain]

Reading mnmc and im going crazy and foaming in the mouth

[lyranova]

Orders

Hi guys! So here’s a ✨Spicy✨ Greyche fic hehe, I’ve had this planned for a while but I got busy so sorry! This is kind of a sequel to ‘Candrilla’, but I hope you all enjoy 🥰! Again, if not 18+ Do Not Read! This fic is 18+.

Word Count: 2,223

Warnings: Suggestive Content

Taglist: @eme-eleff

————

It wasn’t often Grey felt this way, actually it was so rare in fact that Gauche didn’t recognize that she was angry at him until they got back to the Hideout. Anytime he spoke she wouldn’t answer but with a nod or shake of her head, it was starting to worry him a bit; was what he did so bad that it made her not even want to speak to him? The thought upset and worried him. He sighed softly and scratched the back of his head.

“ Hey Grey, why are you mad?” He asked unsurely, she didn’t turn around, but he could see her arms were crossed in front of her.

“ I-I���m not mad.” She stammered, he walked over to her and stood behind her and he placed a hand on her shoulder to turn her around, which she did but she still didn’t look at him.

“ Yes you are. So I’ll ask again: why are you mad?” He asked before crossing his own arms. He watched as her face contorted and her eyes moved rapidly, she was either having a stroke or she was trying to decide on what to say, he watched her bite her bottom lip before she finally lifted her head and looked at him.

“ I’m mad because...because you don’t seem to care what happens to you!” She told him quickly yet loudly, he frowned in confusion, she was mad because of that? Because he was selfless? He was beyond confused; he thought being selfless was a good thing, not a bad one.

“ You don’t seem to have a problem when the others are selfless.” Gauche argued, Grey shook her head and let her arms fall to her side as they balled into fists.

“ I-I do have a problem when the others do it too! I don’t want anyone to get hurt or go back to prison because of me!” She told him with a little more force, it all made sense now, so that was why she was angry; because Gauche was willing to go back to prison to protect Grey from her Step-Sisters. He sighed slightly.

“ Grey-.” He went to argue but she shook her head.

“ No! Y-You listen here Gauche Adlai, I don’t ever want you to do something like that again. You going to jail may not hurt or upset you, but it does hurt and upset me! I won’t lose you over something so stupid as my step-sisters!” She shouted, luckily it was only the two of them in the Hideout otherwise she would be even more embarrassed than what she was currently.

“ So, I’m o-ordering you to never do something that could possibly send you back to jail ever again!” She told him determinedly, Gauche smirked at her.

“ You can’t ‘order’ me to do that, I’m a higher rank than you.” He pointed out as he stared into her eyes, just like their argument earlier that day; he wanted to see if she would falter. But that look in her eyes showed that she didn’t care he was a higher rank than her. Just like before she wasn’t going to back down on this, just like she didn’t back down earlier. His smirk only widened.

Gauche really liked this side of Grey. This more confident, determined side of her. It was completely different from her normal personality and, for some odd reason, it really turned him on. Now don’t misunderstand, Grey’s normal personality turned him on as well. But this, her standing her ground with him and not backing down no matter what, this was very exciting. He never thought he’d ever see her this way with him.

Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind. Gauche grabbed Grey by the wrist and led her towards their bedroom. Once there he opened the door and led her inside, he turned around in order to face her and Grey was very confused.

“ U-Um, why are we here?” She asked him, he smirked proudly.

“This, is the one place where you can order me around and tell me what to do.” Gauche said gesturing to the room, when she only grew more confused he sighed. “ Out there, because of me being a higher rank, you could get in trouble for telling me what to do. But here it’s safe, here you’re free to say and do whatever with me.” He explained, Grey looked around the room and nodded slowly in agreement.

“ S-So...I can order you to do anything?”

“ Anything within reason.” Gauche shrugged, he would do whatever she asked as long as it wasn’t something ridiculous.

“ I order you to never go back to prison or to do something that could cause you too!” She instantly shouted, Gauche chuckled before nodding in agreement. He saw her eyes brighten up and she smiled triumphantly at getting what she wanted.

“ Is there anything else you want? Because,” Gauche slowly walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her, his voice was low, soft, and oh so alluring. “ I remember saying that I would have to repay you for your surprise one day.” He added as he played with her Black Bulls robe. Grey blinked, she had completely forgotten about that, she had surprised him with a kiss one day after a mission, and he told her he would have to repay her someday for it.

“ I-I,” she stammered nervously, she noticed a warm passion in his eyes. She had seen that look before many times, and now that she thought about it, she had seen it in his eyes when she stood up to him as well! She blinked rapidly, she hadn’t realized her standing up to him had turned him on, oddly enough even though it embarrassed her it also made her somewhat proud that she was able to do that to him. “ I don’t know.”

Gauche nodded, usually he took charge during this sort of thing. He walked up to her and placed a gentle hand on her cheek and stroked it tenderly with his thumb, she leaned into his touch and a soft smile spread across her red face. He moved his face next to her ear.

“ I want you to order me around. Tell me what you want me to do, where you want me to touch you.” He whispered in her ear, his other hand coming to rest on her waist, he waited for her instructions before he would go any further. If she told him she didn’t want to do this then he would stop, her comfort was his first priority. She blushed even more and her hand came to rest on his chest, he instantly froze in case she was trying to push him away.

Grey played with the buttons on Gauches shirt, she had always followed his lead when it came to this. So for him to be letting her take charge, it was a little surprising, but the thought of him doing whatever she asked also aroused her more than she thought. She bit her bottom lip in thought.

“ I, I want you to,” she paused briefly. “ I want you to take off your shirt, please.” She asked softly, he nodded and did as she asked.

With one hand Gauche slowly unbuttoned his shirt, a smirk on his face as he watched her stare at his movements, her face still red, but from embarrassment or something else he wasn’t sure. He shrugged his shirt off and it fell to the floor with a soft thud. His hand moved back to her waist.

“ What else?” He asked softly, Grey looked at him in thought once again, she placed her hand back onto his bare chest and heard him inhale sharply as she began to trace it softly with her index finger.

“ M-Maybe, you could...take mine off?” She asked hoarsely, her throat had suddenly gone dry. This was always where she got the most nervous; when she would take her clothes off and he would see her body. She had gotten better about it the longer they’ve been together, but sometimes she would still get nervous about it.

Gauche nodded and slowly, yet gently, began to remove her clothes. His eyes didn’t leave hers for a moment, he was watching for signs of fear or unease, the second he saw that he would stop. But it never came. He took all her clothes off and let them fall onto the floor along with his shirt, he looked her up and down, but not in a hungry sort of way, but in a sweet loving way. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close before leaning down again.

“ What else?” He asked her softly, nuzzling his face into her neck a bit. She sighed in content as her hand went from his chest and into his hair.

“ M-Maybe...we can go over to the bed?” She suggested softly, Gauche nodded as he pulled away and took her by the hand to lead to the bed.

Gauche looked over at Grey and froze once again; the look in her eye, she wasn’t sure of what she was supposed to do now. He knew if he would ask her she would deny that, but her eyes didn’t lie. He instantly pulled her close and kissed her softly yet passionately, he was trying to convey all that he was feeling for her into that one kiss. He wanted to let her know how proud he was that she was pushing past her limits, that she was trying to be more confident with him.

“ I think that’s enough ‘ordering’ me around today, we’ll try it out some more later.” Gauche said breathlessly as he pulled away from Grey, she nodded in agreement. She was just as breathless as he was. But he could see the slight relief in her eyes when he said she didn’t have to order him around anymore. Gauche quickly spun her around and laid her down onto the bed, a small smirk on his face.

“ Now, I still want you to tell me where to touch you.” He told her seriously. She bit her bottom lip but nodded and his smirk turned into a smile as he kissed her again before moving to that sensitive spot on her neck that caused her to gasp a bit, he made sure to show it some well deserved attention. His hands moved up her thighs and rested on her hips.

“ Do you want me to touch you here?” Gauche asked as he placed a kiss on her collarbone. “ Or here?” He asked as he moved to her chest, he murmured all the way down her chest and stomach, his hands slowly slipping off her underwear as he moved down. He stopped as he rested comfortably between her legs, his smirk back in place.

“ Or, how about here?” He asked, Grey swallowed thickly as she looked down at her finacé. The sight of him sitting there, between her legs, a smirk on his face, only caused her to become even more aroused then she already was!

“ Y-Yes! There, please Gauche.” She almost begged, he chuckled and shook his head slightly.

“ Yes ma’am, oh, but one more thing.” Gauche teased, and chuckled again once Grey whined in impatience. It wasn’t very often she got this way, but apparently they had both worked each other up to their breaking points today. Heh. It was kind of funny; the day started out with her turning him on, and it ended the other way around. “ I have one small request, I want you to be as loud as you can be.”

——-

Outside the Black Bulls Hideout, Vanessa, Yami, Magna, and Gordon all had just returned from a mission. They were dead tired and couldn’t wait to get home. As Magna opened the door he frowned; they seemed to be the only ones there.

“ Weren’t Grey and Gauche supposed to be back by now?” Magna asked curiously, Gordon came up to stand next to him and nodded thoughtfully.

“ They were. I hope my friends are alright.” Gordon said softly before Vanessa and Yami walked in behind them.

“ I’m sure they’re fine.” Vanessa assured them with a small pat on the shoulder and Yami nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, a very loud moan could be heard down the hallway. The four Black Bull members froze, what was that sound? Vanessa and Yami looked at each other, it couldn’t possibly be-?

“ Ah, G-Gauche!”

With that moan, Vanesa and Yami grabbed Magna and Gordon by the back of their shirt collars and pulled them outside instantly. Much to their confusion.

“ Hey what was that for?!” Magna yelled, Yami glared down at him for a minute before shaking his head.

“ I just remembered; we have some stuff in the Capitol to take care of and you two are coming with us.” Yami explained as he cut a look to Vanessa, who nodded knowingly. They would give the happy couple a few more hours of alone time.

But once they got back, Yami would be reminding Gauche to close his bedroom door!

———

Ah i’m sorry this isn’t very good but I hope you all enjoyed 🥰! I’ve been wanting to write this for a while but I just got busy haha, anyway thanks for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

[babysizedfics]

okok so i dont know if virgil would like it (bc of the separation anxiety) but how does he feel abt peek a boo? i imagine his cgs would make it super fun! like have him on his mama’s lap with his papa in front of him and theyre like “wheres the baby??” and pat covers his eyes “there he is!!” and pat gets all happy and excited to see virgil so v gets all excited which makes pat even mOre excited so v gets lil happy kissies!!!! (can u tell ive been wanting to play peek a boo hdhdj)

I HAD TO SCREAM INTO A PILLOW

I hope you don't mind but i made this into a fic it was essential it was unavoidable i was crying as i wrote this

Title: Peekaboo!

Summary: Logan is a shy new caregiver, Patton learns what separation anxiety is, and Virgil disappears then reappears and is a very confused baby.

Word count: 6,600

Note: Set before the events of Little Accidents, Big Developments (AO3 | tumblr)

Also on AO3

oOo

It had been a somewhat slow day. Roman had been holed up in his room for most of it, rehearsing for an audition that Thomas had landed for the following week. He was working rather relentlessly, though Patton had been sure to request that he at least leave his room for mealtimes - and Logan had outright demanded it when Roman stubbornly refused. After a very speedy lunch, Roman was back in his room and the other three were left to their own devices in the living room.

Quite understandably, Patton had noticed Virgil was much antsier that afternoon. Probably because Roman was constantly talking about how absolutely essential it was that Thomas did not mess up a single line in next week’s audition and that he personally would “enter into a state of devastated mourning should this chance at stardom be killed and dashed across the stage floor”.

That had evidently sent Virgil’s anxiety into a downward spiral. After the fourth shaky sigh in as many minutes from the younger side’s lips, Patton shook his head and twisted on the couch to look at him.

‘Okay, that’s enough,’ Patton said, giving a rare stern look to the boy who was currently pacing the living room floor and looking just about ready to tear his hair out. ‘No more worrying, Stormcloud.’

‘I can’t help it!’ Virgil whispered quite fiercely. His eyes were wide and though they looked in Patton’s direction, it was as if his gaze was fixed a mile in the distance, likely imagining a variation of disastrous scenarios. ‘We could choke or trip or literally do the worst performance ever and Roman would be depressed and then we might not be able to make videos for months because he’s so distraught and what if it was all my fault? What if I was the one to make Thomas mess up and then Roman would hate me and -’

‘Breathe,’ Logan commanded from where he sat in the armchair reading a book.

As if being shaken from a spell, Virgil’s frantic pacing halted and he gasped in a breath.

‘It was not your fault because it has not happened. Roman won’t hate you because even if it did happen, the blame could not fall solely on your shoulders. Everything is going to be all right, Virgil.’

At Logan’s reassuring words, Virgil nodded slightly to himself, his eyes fixed on his feet as he took in steady, though shallow breaths.

Patton bit his lip for a moment in thought. It was obvious that Virgil would not be able to get past this anxiety without a distraction… and what better distraction than being a baby?

With a firm nod to himself that meant Yes, this is definitely the only solution. Not just because I love looking after my baby, of course, Patton switched the TV over from the show he had been watching to Guess How Much I Love You, one of Virgil’s favourite cartoons in littlespace.

As soon as the bright musical score started playing, Virgil and Logan’s gazes both snapped up to the screen. The older one smiled slightly while the younger side’s thumb flew to his mouth in an instant. He began nibbling on his nail as a young child’s voice sang the opening song:

“Dancing through springtime,

Flowers are raised in summer sun,

Catching white snowflakes on your nose,

Running through autumn leaves that float from trees from high,

With a love that is bigger than the sky”

Patton beamed at how Virgil seemed fully enraptured by the animated rabbit and bright flowers on the screen. The moral side happily joined in singing his favourite part of the song, all while gazing at Virgil.

‘Guess how much I love you, guess how much I love you -’ he held his arms out to Virgil in an invitation for a hug ‘- Guess how much I love you!’

‘’M not little,’ Virgil mumbled with a strong blush gracing his cheeks. It was so quiet that Patton wouldn’t be surprised if Logan had not been able to hear it, being slightly further away from them.

‘I know, sweetheart,’ Patton said gently through a smile, knowing that Virgil’s statement wouldn’t be true for very long. His arms remained open. ‘But maybe we can just watch a bit and see if it helps you calm down.’

There was a stiff nod and within a few seconds Virgil had plopped down onto the couch beside Patton, instantly snuggling up to him.

Patton allowed himself a small chuckle as he wrapped his arms around Virgil and pulled him into his lap. Seeing Logan’s proud smile filled him with far more joy than he was currently able to express if he didn’t want to accidentally fling Virgil off of his lap, so he let it fizzle away in his chest with a bright grin. As he settled back to watch the show, he pretended not to notice his baby’s thumb slipping into his mouth.

Needless to say, by the end of the ten-minute episode, Virgil was entirely gone.

‘Papa?’

Patton nearly squealed. He wasn’t quite over his excitement for Virgil’s new nickname for him. ‘Yes, my sweet little fieldmouse?’

‘Peas Minpy?’ Virgil garbled around his thumb, twisting his head to look pleadingly at Patton.

That look… Virgil had no idea what that look did to Patton’s heart. With a firm hand on his chest, Patton said, ‘Okay, baby. Let’s go upstairs and get Minty.’

‘I can fetch them,’ Logan quickly announced from the armchair. Patton watched as he snapped his book shut quite hurriedly, stood, paused for a second as he clearly got a head-rush from standing so fast, then made his way over to them. ‘I’m going to go and get Minty for you, Virgil,’ he explained, leaning down to be eye level with them.

His hand reached forward hesitantly and patted Virgil’s head twice, to which the regressor replied with a giggle and a poke to Logan’s wrist.

Patton fought very hard to contain an adoring smile as Logan’s cheeks flushed before he bustled out of the living room. The logical side was a little awkward in his attempts at physical affection, but they never failed to put a smile on Virgil’s face so Patton could hardly tease him about it. And it wasn’t Logan’s fault that cuddles and kisses didn’t come as naturally to him as they did to Patton. He was trying, and it only made Patton all the more smitten with him.

Feeling his cheeks warm at that thought, Patton quickly busied himself with holding Virgil’s hand (the one that was not currently glued to his chin while he sucked his thumb) and started circling his finger on the little one’s palm. ‘Round and round the garden, like a teddy bear…’

After a short while of singing and tickling and giggling, Logan returned with Minty in tow. One of Virgil’s little baby blankets was slung over his shoulder. At Patton’s raised eyebrow he shrugged it with a short explanation of: ‘Just in case he needs it.’

Virgil snatched his thumb out of his mouth with a muted pop and held his hands out to the soft toy with a whine.

‘Can you remember what word we say when we want something?’ Patton nudged Virgil slightly, though kept him in a firm embrace to make sure the boy didn’t topple off of his lap with his lack of balance.

Virgil’s face turned back to him. He opened his mouth as if ready to say something then frowned and snapped his jaw shut with a pout. Another whine came forth, this time sounding a bit upset.

‘Aww, are you too little, sweetie?’ Patton cooed. Virgil’s head suddenly collapsed onto his shoulder and he heard a sniffle. ‘No, no, it’s okay. It’s all right, baby,’ he hastened to reassure, bringing his hand up to stroke Virgil’s hair soothingly. He really was so sensitive when he was this small, it was difficult to avoid upsetting him. That was one thing that had been difficult to come to terms with when Patton first became Virgil’s caregiver. ‘You’re allowed to be as little as you want.’

The cushion beneath him dipped and he realised the sudden firm warmth pressing against his arm was Logan, who was sitting incredibly close to him. It was difficult not to blush. And so Patton did blush.

‘Virgil, look who has come to see you,’ Logan said so warmly that it melted Patton’s heart.

A curious baby pulled his face off of Patton’s shoulder and all remnants of upset on his features were quickly replaced by sheer happiness. Patton thought it would never get old, seeing Virgil’s eyes sparkle with such rare joy.

A lopsided grin stretched Logan’s lips as he pressed the stuffed dinosaur into the crook of Virgil’s arm. ‘There we are.’

The sweetest little squeak sounded as Virgil sat more upright on Patton’s lap and hugged the toy tightly, burying his face in its fur.

‘So much for not being little,’ Logan murmured lowly by Patton’s ear in an amused tone. The rumble of it resonated right through the moral side’s chest and left him dumbstruck.

‘Yeah,’ Patton breathed, not being able to think of anything much smarter to add.

oOo

Twenty minutes and a couple more episodes of Guess How Much I Love You later, Patton and Virgil (now with a pacifier) were being silly on the carpet. By being silly, they were quite literally just making funny faces at each other and then taking a minute’s break while they calmed down from all of the giggles and aching smiles than ensued.

Logan, being “not one for such tomfoolery”, was back to reading in the armchair. Though Patton had noticed that he was tending to spend more and more time on each page as he cast more and more glances over to the two on the carpet.

It was quite evident that Logan was eager to take care of Virgil, and it was becoming more prominent every day. He was incredibly passionate about the idea when he had first discussed it with Patton nearly a month previously and had been damn near ecstatic when Virgil had agreed to the suggestion. Though, going by his timidity and shy glances when Patton was caring for Virgil around him, it seemed his nerves were getting the better of him. Well, Patton couldn’t have that at all.

‘Oh, you’re such a silly baby!’ Patton chuckled when Virgil scrunched up his face as if he had eaten a lemon slice. ‘Papa’s gonna be right back, sweetheart.’

Without much delay, Patton jumped up with a big smile and ruffled Virgil’s hair, only just noticing that his face had fallen as he walked away. He would be fine, especially with Logan looking after him.

‘Where are you going?!’ Logan practically shrieked, his eyes wide and staring at Patton in disbelief.

Patton couldn’t help but giggle. ‘I’m just going to pee. You can watch Virgil while I’m gone!’ he cried a bit too excitedly if the look of suspicion on Logan’s face was anything to go by. ‘Come on, Lo. You are his other caregiver, aren’t you?’

That seemed to humble Logan as he looked to his lap and fidgeted with his tie. ‘Yes, I - of course.’

As Patton moved out into the hallway he heard Logan sliding off of his chair and talking to Virgil in quiet, gentle tones. He smiled, knowing that Logan truly did have it in him to be a carer, he just needed some encouragement.

Within mere minutes Patton was on his way back to the living room. If he took his bathroom trip quite languidly and chose to use the upstairs bathroom just to have a longer journey, he was sure no-one would have noticed. It was all for a good cause, after all. Though, he began to doubt this reasoning when he became aware of wet sniffles and whimpers and frantic hushes coming from the living room.

‘Logan, is everything okay?’ Patton asked as he pushed the door open.

He was met with the sight of a red-faced, tear-stained Virgil pulling very harshly on his pacifier handle. Logan was knelt beside him, holding his hands out in a placating gesture and looking quite concerned.

It only took a second or so for Patton to drop by Virgil’s side and immediately wrap him in a warm hug. The younger’s crying slowed as he buried his face in Patton’s chest.

‘What happened?’ Patton whispered, looking up at Logan’s bewildered stare.

‘He started crying the minute you left,’ Logan said, his brow furrowed (beautifully), ‘but I could not find any indication of injury or anything in the vicinity that might have caused such a sudden drop in mood.’

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ Patton murmured sadly as he gazed upon his curled up baby, suddenly understanding. He lifted Virgil slightly to bring him into his lap. ‘It’s okay, Lo. Sometimes he does that when I leave him for a bit.’

Just as with every time previously, Virgil’s tears had completely subsided now that he was in Patton’s embrace. Rather than whimpers and sniffles, the only sounds coming from him were the suckling of his pacifier and a small sigh of content.

Logan seemed thrown off by the sudden change. ‘He cries when you leave the room? Is there no suggestion that he could be upset by extraneous variables in these situations?’

‘I don’t know much about “ex-trainer vary balls” but nothing else happens to make him cry.’ Patton tightened his hold around Virgil protectively. ‘He just misses his papa.’

The way Logan’s frown pulled down even more was slightly less cute this time, only because it made Patton worry.

‘Patton, I don’t believe this qualifies as “just missing his papa”. This may be a case of separation anxiety.’

Even as his baby snuggled into him further, Patton felt his heart sink. ‘That doesn’t sound very nice. What is it?’

‘In short, it means that he is aware enough to realise just how dependent he is on you, but not in an old enough headspace to have a solid understanding of object permanence.’ Patton’s confusion must have shown on his face because Logan immediately elaborated, ‘When something leaves his line of sight, he believes it has ceased to exist.’

‘Oh, that can’t be right.’ Patton looked down at the sleepy boy in his lap. ‘No, he must know I’m still gonna come back to him. I always come back to him.’ Purple tendrils of hair parted around his fingertips as he stroked his little one’s head.

‘Allow me to demonstrate,’ Logan said, then picked Minty up from where they had apparently been abandoned on the carpet. ‘Virgil,’ he called, ‘Vee, look over here. Look at Minty.’

With a little snuffle, Virgil lifted his head from Patton’s shoulder. It was noticeable how his eyes sparkled upon seeing his favourite toy. ‘Minpy!’ he squealed in excitement.

‘Aww,’ Patton cooed, unable to hide his adoration for just how sweet his little boy was.

‘Don’t you think he was surprised to see Minty?’ Logan questioned, holding Minty just out of reach from Virgil who was starting to whine as he held his arm out to the toy.

‘Well… I guess so, but that doesn’t mean -’

Minty was suddenly pulled away and hidden behind Logan’s back, completely out of sight. An expression of fake-surprise crossed Logan’s features as he looked at Virgil. ‘Where did Minty go, Vee?’

Watching Virgil’s reaction, Patton was beginning to understand what Logan meant. A mild panic had clouded over Virgil’s eyes and he looked frantically between Patton’s face and Logan’s now empty hand. It wasn’t long before the whimpering started anew.

‘Sweetie, it’s okay,’ Patton murmured, rocking him slightly on his lap. ‘You remember where Minty went, don’t you?’

Wet eyes locked onto his. ‘Gom,’ Virgil whispered forlornly.

‘He’s not gone, baby. See.’ Patton sent a pointed look to Logan, to which the logical side at least had the decency to appear embarrassed by his experiment and pulled Minty back out from behind him.

Virgil gasped through his pacifier, apparently shocked by the toy’s sudden reappearance. He whined and made desperate grabby hands at the toy.

‘There you go, Virgil.’ The toy was pushed into Virgil’s hands and instantly squeezed against his chest in a tight hug. Logan looked back up to Patton a little shyly. ‘I apologise for upsetting him. I had to prove my hypothesis.’

A sigh escaped Patton as he swayed his baby gently. Logan did honestly look remorseful, and he had shown Patton what object permanence was (or more what it wasn’t) so perhaps it was all right. Even if it hadn’t been in a very fun way. ‘So, does he think I… I die when I leave the room?’ he whispered shakily.

‘Not nearly so morbid,’ Logan reassured, actually reaching out to stroke his finger across Virgil’s knuckle. It was a very small act of affection, but Patton appreciated it nonetheless. ‘He does not have the mental capacity to think about anything that he cannot see. When you leave him, he cannot see you and so all he can think about at that moment is your absence, rather than believe you could exist somewhere that is not with him.’

The strangest bittersweet feeling swirled in Patton’s chest. Sure, it was kind of cute that Virgil loved and needed his papa so much that he always wanted to be with him. But Patton couldn’t be with him all the time. He did his best, of course, but he couldn’t exactly go hours without needing to go to the bathroom or fetching something from the cupboard.

‘Can we maybe fix it?’ Patton asked.

That crinkle in between Logan’s eyebrows came forth again and Patton longed to press his lips against it and smooth it out with a kiss. ‘There are simple activities we can do to try to reinforce object permanence. Though given the fact that he is not truly a developing child, I am unsure if they will have any effect on him.’

‘It’s worth a try though, right?’ Patton didn’t want his baby to be needlessly upset if they could help it.

A soft smile stretched Logan’s lips, and it made it quite tricky to remain worried. ‘It’s worth a try.’

And try they did. They really did.

As per Logan’s suggestion, they started with Patton leaving the room for progressively longer bouts of time. Thirty seconds, then one minute, then two minutes, and et cetera. At least, that had been the plan. In practice, it was much more resemblant of ten seconds, Virgil’s distressed whimpering, and Patton dashing back to comfort his baby. Then ten seconds, then Virgil whimpering, then Patton dashing. Ten seconds, whimpering, dashing. All in all, they considered it a failed attempt. (Patton was very glad that Logan didn’t reprimand him for ruining the experiment.) (‘You didn’t ruin anything, Patton.’)

The next activity was hiding objects and showing Virgil that they would always be revealed again. Minty had been the first choice, though Virgil was still rather distressed from their first activity and was clinging onto the toy tightly. The caregivers came to a silent agreement that it would not be fair to take away his comfort item. They instead attempted to hide things from around the room; little trinkets such as a photo frame or one of Roman’s sketchpads he had left lying around.

Virgil at least did not start crying whenever they were hidden behind Logan’s back or under his baby blanket. In fact, he hardly seemed to notice them disappear at all. No matter how much baby-talk and coaxing from Patton and Logan, the regressor did not react to them and only frowned and buried his head against Patton’s chest with a whine that almost resembled a groan of annoyance. Apparently he was entirely uninterested in the activity when it concerned such boring objects.

‘Virgil, look. Roman’s drawings are all gone,’ Logan announced, pulling the blankie over the sketchpad for the fourth time. Patton felt Virgil’s head roll on his chest lazily to look. ‘And now -’ Logan pulled the blanket back with a little gasp, revealing the book, ‘- there they are, they came back!’

‘Wow, would you look at that!’ Patton gasped, shaking Virgil very gently to try to excite him.

A soft grunt sounded before Virgil buried his pouting face in Minty’s tummy.

Both caregivers sighed.

‘Perhaps this activity is too impersonal to interest him,’ Logan mumbled, looking more than a little disheartened.

It wasn’t a surprise, given how passionate Logan was about educational activities. Despite the logical side’s hesitance with being solely responsible for a regressed Virgil, he had displayed plenty of interest in the boy’s wellbeing. Over the past few weeks wherein he had been subject to Virgil’s regression, Logan had had plenty of input in ways Patton could play with him and similarly teach him things that his regressed self had not known before. Patton, in turn, had convinced Logan that he himself partake in the activities too, and hence Virgil’s comfort around him had been gradually growing.

So seeing how disappointed Logan was by Virgil despondence for this activity, Patton absolutely had to do something to remedy it. He just had a fussy baby to get through first.

‘Oh no!’ Patton cried, knowing that it would be enough to get Virgil’s attention. As expected, the baby looked up from his toy still adorning a frown as he suckled his pacifier. ‘Vee, I’ve lost something very important and I can’t find it!’

Virgil’s grumpy expression melted into a worried one and he looked over to Logan. Then he pointed at the other side and whined at Patton.

A giggle worked its way through Patton’s words as he explained, ‘No, I didn’t lose Logan. I can’t find my happy little baby anywhere!’

Shyness replaced Virgil’s confusion as Minty was pulled up to cover most of his face.

‘Is he…’ Patton hummed in thought for a moment, then fluttered his finger under Virgil’s ear, ‘over here?’

A little squeak was muffled behind Minty as Virgil’s eyes crinkled. But, Patton thought in amusement, he still couldn’t see Virgil’s smile, so technically it didn’t count.

‘No?’ Patton gasped, then moved his finger down to wiggle over the sole of Virgil’s socked foot. ‘Is he under there?’

With a strained giggle, Virgil dropped Minty to push at Patton’s hand quite weakly. His dimples were starting to show.

Biting his lip around a grin, Patton released Virgil’s foot but then started circling his finger around in midair teasingly. ‘Oh, I wonder where my happy little one could be.’

‘Papa!’ Virgil called, giggling around his pacifier.

‘Oh my, I think I heard him!’ Patton’s finger started wriggling and moving towards Virgil’s tummy. ‘Could he be in here?’

He slid his finger under Virgil’s shirt and started squiggling over his tummy. Virgil was immediately squirming in his lap, giggling uncontrollably.

‘There’s my happy baby!’ Patton laughed.

For another couple of moments, the room was filled with the sounds of Virgil’s bright laughter and the soft kicks of his feet against the carpet. Then Logan spoke up:

‘Actually, this poses another suggestion.’

Patton twisted in his place, keeping a firm hold on Virgil who was still calming from his giggles. At some point during the tickle attack, Logan had apparently moved back to the armchair. While he was sitting quite stiffly and avoiding Patton’s eyes, there was a slight twist in his lips that suggested he was holding back a smile.

‘What’s that, Loganberry?’

A half-hearted scoff greeted that nickname, though Logan continued regardless. ‘Playing Where’s the baby? - otherwise referred to as Peekaboo - is a commonly used tactic in teaching object permanence in infants.’

‘Oh, how adorable!’ At once, Patton shuffled both him and Virgil to face Logan on the carpet, supporting Virgil in sitting upright. He was eagerly peering over Virgil’s head at Logan. Patton wouldn’t miss this for the world! ‘Whenever you’re ready.’

Logan bridled in his seat a little. ‘I, um… Well, I anticipated that you would want to do it, Patton.’

‘Oh.’ The slump of Patton’s shoulders was probably more noticeable than he would have liked. Was he asking too much of Logan to play a game like that with their baby? The logical side has always been sensitive to looking less than serious. ‘Of course,’ Patton nodded, regretting that his voice sounded strained.

‘Wait, no. I -’ The words stuttered to a halt as Logan closed his eyes and took a deep, likely steadying breath. When his eyes opened again, he looked down at Virgil with a soft, open expression. ‘Shall we play a game, Vee?’

Pride swelled in Patton’s chest.

The weight on his lap shifted as Virgil turned around to look at him. His expression wasn’t too easily read, but Patton knew he was simply seeking affirmation and so he encouraged him. ‘That’ll be fun, won’t it, baby?’

Seemingly satisfied, Virgil turned back to Logan and made a hum of assent.

It would never be spoken aloud, but Patton was quite sure that both he and Logan acknowledged just how awkward the logical side felt in that moment.

With a quiet clearing of his throat, Logan lifted the baby blanket from the floor and held it up in the air in front of him, concealing his face. After a moment, the fabric dropped to his feet to reveal Logan’s face - adorned with a faint blush.

‘Peekaboo,’ he said in an incredibly unfitting monotone.

A wince fought to crumple Patton’s face, but he battled it fiercely. As was to be expected, Virgil did not react much to Logan’s weak exclamation.

‘That did not have the desired effect,’ Logan grumbled, his cheeks a deep shade of pink now.

‘Aw, come on. Maybe you could try again with a bit more, y’know,’ Patton stalled, shrugging his shoulders with a guilty smile, ‘feeling.’

Logan’s eyes darted between Patton’s face, the blanket on the floor, and Virgil. Then he shook his head rapidly and muttered to his lap, ‘This was a silly suggestion. Forgive me.’

Being overcome by a wave of sympathy, Patton offered, ‘Here, why don’t we switch?’

He gripped Virgil tightly and rose from the floor with his baby in his arms. Virgil only had the chance to whine for half a second (he didn’t respond too well to being picked up a lot of the time) before Patton was easing him into Logan’s lap.

‘Uh, Pat - Patton…’ Logan stuttered, going stiff in his seat.

Ignoring the nervous protest, Patton persisted and situated Virgil further back on Logan’s lap so that the regressor leant against Logan’s chest. ‘There we are, sweetheart.’

It was met with a high-pitched whine and one of Virgil’s hands reaching out to him again as he leant forward to chase his papa.

Logan quickly caught Virgil’s shoulders before the boy swayed too far to one side. ‘Are you certain this is all right?’ he asked quite breathlessly. ‘I haven’t held him before, I don’t -’

‘Logan, don’t worry.’ It was almost amusing how wide Logan’s eyes were. Patton sent both of his boys the most comforting smile he had to offer. ‘I’m sure Mommy Logan is plenty capable of holding a baby in his lap.’

Both sides on the couch spoke simultaneously:

‘“Mommy Logan”?’

‘Mama?’

Virgil’s tiny voice filled Patton with such intense awe, he could hardly breathe past the swell of adoration in his chest.

He just smiled and with each hand offered a supportive touch to the two on the couch - a hair stroke for Virgil and a shoulder squeeze for Logan. He directed his next words at Virgil, knowing Logan wouldn’t be able to argue with his baby-talk. ‘Yes, baby. You’ve got a papa already, haven’t you? So now you’ve got a mama too!’

In a somewhat unexpected change of heart, Virgil’s upset at being away from his papa dissipated and he sank back against Logan’s chest quite happily.

Logan’s arms had fallen forward to secure around Virgil much in the same fashion as a seatbelt.

The decision to be so unapologetic and forward about suggesting “Mommy Logan” had been a risky one on Patton’s behalf, though seeing the gentle smile that softened Logan’s face thwarted any lingering doubts he had harboured about it.

‘I suppose that makes sense,’ Logan murmured, absently stroking his thumb over Virgil's shoulder and gazing down at him as if in a trance. ‘I can be Mama Logan.’

Going by Logan’s expression, Patton was sure he recognised the feeling that lay behind it. Patton knew it well; being entranced by the vulnerability and innocence and sweetness of the person who now relied on you to take care of them. It was the feeling of protectiveness. The paternal instinct. It was love.

He did his best not to tear up at seeing it displayed so openly in Logan’s eyes.

‘Okay, baby, are we ready to play?’ His happy tone was only moderately hindered by his tearfulness.

Virgil bounced a little in Logan’s lap (which earned him a surprised chuckle from the logical side) and nodded, squeezing Minty tighter in his hands.

‘Here we go!’ Patton announced, then leaned forward. He covered Virgil’s eyes with the palms of his hands. The confused squeak from Virgil forced Patton to bite his lip to conceal a giggle. After a couple of seconds, he lowered his hands and with a bright smile. ‘Peekaboo!’

There was certainly more of a reaction in comparison to Logan’s monotonous attempt, though it was not exactly the expected one. Where Patton expected to find an excited glimmer in Virgil’s eyes, he only saw confusion and upset.

Undeterred, Patton simply laughed it off. ‘There you are! And now…’ He covered Virgil’s eyes again, slightly concerned at his small whimper. When he lowered his hands and called, ‘Peekaboo!’ again, Virgil outright pouted at him.

‘What’s the matter, baby?’

‘I think he may have sensory issues with you covering his eyes,’ Logan suggested gently.

Patton observed how Virgil had instantly started rubbing at his eyes once Patton’s hands had pulled away from them. ‘Was it a yucky feeling, Vee?’ he asked.

A little nod and whine from the regressor confirmed the suspicion.

‘Aw, honey, I’m sorry,’ Patton cooed, feeling his heart sink with guilt. He had to remind himself to be careful of Virgil’s sensitivities. It was certainly proving to be a learning curve for the touchy-feely father figure.

Logan seemed to have regained some of his usual confidence and spoke without an ounce of hesitation, ‘I suggest you attempt it with his blanket instead.’

Glad for Logan’s to-the-point problem solving, Patton picked the blankie up. The material was unfathomably soft and always calmed Virgil down after he had been subjected to “yucky” textures, so he was sure it would help with their game.

‘All right, let’s try this again. Ready?’ Patton held the blanket taut and dropped it over Virgil’s head. An even louder whimper this time sounded from underneath it and Patton shared a concerned glance with Logan.

‘Papa!’ Virgil called out in panic. His grip on Minty was tight enough that the soft toy bulged between his fingers.

Patton hurriedly lifted the blanket again, ready to exclaim “peekaboo”, but was heartbroken to see Virgil’s eyes glossed over with tears.

Virgil whined as soon as he seemed to notice Patton. He dropped Minty to Logan’s lap so that he could hold his arms out. ‘Papa,’ he whispered, sounding close to tears.

‘Hey, hey, don’t cry, baby,’ Patton soothed, wrapping Virgil in a quick hug (that just so happened to include Logan, seeing as how he was so close behind Virgil). ‘It’s all right, Papa’s here.’

‘This separation anxiety is far more intense than I initially thought.’ Logan sounded troubled. 

It made Patton’s stomach flip. Would Logan want to test it more? Would he say it was bad for Virgil’s mental health? Would he want to separate Patton and Virgil? A sick feeling surged through Patton and he quickly plastered a big grin on his face, pulling back from Virgil despite his baby’s reluctance to let go.

‘No, no, we can do this,’ he assured. ‘Can’t we baby?’

Virgil didn’t seem to know what Patton was asking him, so he only whined and stretched his arms out further towards Patton.

‘It may help if you speak while he is hidden,’ Logan whispered. ‘That way he will still sense your presence.’ He offered a slightly awkward smile. It was beautiful to Patton.

He picked the blanket back up from where he had dropped it to the couch and, as per Logan’s instruction, repeated the game but this time spoke when Virgil was covered by the blanket.

More whines met his ears, though Patton quickly gasped and said, ‘Uh oh, I can’t see little Vee anywhere!’

To his relief (as well as Logan’s, going by the drop of his tense shoulders), Virgil’s whimpering stopped.

‘Papa?’

‘Where’s the baby?’ Patton sang.

A confused coo came from Virgil. It was such an unmistakably babyish sound that the remains of Patton’s concern were overridden by thoughts of My baby is so frickin’ adorable!

Then he snatched the blanket from Virgil’s head with a wide smile. ‘There he is!’

Virgil blinked slowly a couple of times before twisting around to look up at Logan.

The logical side smiled down at him and nodded. ‘You came back,’ he stated simply.

For a moment Patton was unsure of what would happen next. Virgil’s silence could have meant anything from shyness to fear. It could have been followed up by hysterical giggles or heartbreaking sobs.

Instead, Virgil turned back to Patton and mumbled, ‘Bwankie.’

How on Earth Patton had not yet suffered a heart attack from the sheer amount of adorableness coming from his baby, he had no idea.

‘Shall we play with your blankie again?’ Patton asked.

When Virgil nodded, so much pride and happiness filled Patton that it spilt out of him in a joyful giggle.

‘Oh my gosh, okay!’ He bounced on his toes as he lay the blanket over Virgil’s head again. His baby did go slightly rigid upon being left in darkness, but it was quickly remedied: ‘Where’s my little baby?’

Virgil’s body relaxed back into Logan and he shook Mento in his hands with a squeak. With a strong suspicion that his little boy was excited, Patton pulled the blankie away. ‘There he is!’

And it was true! Virgil was smiling behind his paci and flapped Mento in the air in front of him with a giggle. The anxiousness of the previous few minutes had completely disappeared.

‘Logan, he liked it!’ Patton cried, unable to contain how ecstatic he was.

He was a little surprised to catch Logan staring at him with a distant look and a soft smile etched onto his features. With a little start, Logan seemed to catch himself and nodded stiffly.

‘I am glad,’ Logan said and with the hand that wasn’t keeping Virgil secure, he scratched at his cheek. It only drew attention to how rosy it had become. ‘It might be worth keeping it up. Solely for the educational merits, of course,’ he hastened to add.

‘You don’t have to tell me twice,’ Patton laughed and looked back at his baby. ‘Again?’

Virgil bounced a little in Logan’s lap and his dimples sunk in his cheeks. ‘Gen!’

‘Anything for my little stormcloud.’

Virgil was promptly hidden behind the fluffy material. 

‘Oh dear, where did Virgil go?’

The blanket giggled.

Logan chuckled quietly as Patton winked at him. ‘Where’s my itty bitty baby?’

‘Papa, Papa!’

Patton gasped with an exaggerated surprise, ‘Oh my goodness…’ He swept the blanket off of Virgil's head to be met with a very happy baby with fluffed up hair. ‘There he is!’

The sound that came from Virgil could only have been described as a squeal of delight. His face was glowing with joy and he squished Minty against his face. He tended to do that when he was either shy (which he certainly wasn’t at that moment) or when he was so overwhelmed by emotion that he had to hide and process it for a moment. The fact that he was hiding from intense joy, rather than intense fear as usual, was nothing short of heartwarming to Patton.

‘I love you, honey,’ he whispered and leaned down to press a firm kiss onto the top of Virgil’s head.

‘Um, Patton?’ Logan asked quietly.

With a growing embarrassment, Patton realised he had his hands on Logan’s thighs to steady himself in leaning forward. He quickly retracted his hands. ‘Sorry.’

‘No, no, that wasn’t - you can -’ Logan cut himself off by clearing his throat. His eyes darted up to Patton quite hesitantly before they settled on Virgil. His hold on the regressor visibly tightened. ‘I wondered if perhaps I could try playing again.’

Patton had not, in fact, known true pride until that very moment.

‘Gosh, yes, please, of course,’ Patton rambled, instantly crouching down to be eye-level with Virgil. He had to seize this window of opportunity lest Logan shy away. ‘Let’s move you around, sweetheart.’

With a little help from Logan (and a little blushing as Patton’s hand brushed his), they were able to get Virgil to face Logan whilst in his lap. There was only a slight protest when Virgil reached out to hug Patton but couldn’t because of his position, but it was soon brushed over when Patton sat beside Logan so that Virgil could clearly see him. Perhaps the separation anxiety had not been helped so much by the game, but it was fun nonetheless.

‘We’re gonna play with Mama now,’ Patton announced and smiled when Virgil looked expectantly at Logan.

The logical side faltered a bit, though as Patton nudged him slightly with his shoulder he seemed to come out of it. ‘Are you ready to play, Vee?’

The baby nodded and hugged Minty tightly to his chest.

Logan did as Patton had - covering Virgil over with the blanket and immediately wondering aloud, ‘I appear to have lost Virgil. Wherever could he be?’

To Logan’s credit, the performance was far more expressive than his first attempt. It wasn’t quite as resemblant of a children’s TV presenter as Patton’s coos and gasps were, but it was certainly enough to get Virgil smiling, as was quickly revealed when Logan pulled the blanket back with a joyful, ‘There he is!’

They kept at the game for several more minutes, none of them getting bored of the repetition.

It was quite difficult to be bored by Virgil’s squeaky giggles, Patton found. Especially when they were supplemented by Logan’s soothing voice and a grin brighter than Patton knew the logical side would have ever dared to display in any other situation.

By the last round, Virgil was getting sleepy; his laughter was interrupted by quiet yawns (which sent Patton’s heart racing as he questioned how a human being could so closely resemble a kitten).

‘Last one, Stormcloud,’ Patton chuckled as Logan covered the boy with the blanket once more. ‘Then it’s naptime.’

‘Where’s Virgil?’ Logan called. ‘Where’s the baby?’

Virgil’s giggles were quiet, and it was noticeable how he was swaying a lot more now, being too tired to support himself. It was a good thing that Logan refused to release him from his careful hold.

Patton had shuffled further toward the other two as the game went on and now he was fully leaning up against Logan’s side. When they both looked at each other with bright smiles, Patton actually dared to wonder whether Logan’s cheeks really were just flushed from all the laughter, or if maybe Patton wasn’t alone in feeling a spark where their arms touched.

‘Together?’ Logan suggested.

Patton was sure his smile was completely goofy by this point, but he hardly cared.

‘Three…’

Logan smiled. ‘Two…’

‘One…’ Patton pulled the blanket from Virgil’s head.

‘Peekaboo!’ the caregivers said in unison, their happy, sing-song tones identical.

oOo

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[billy-batson]

Here

prompts: i ran away from home and knocked on the wrong door but you want to take me in anyway au (from this list of prompts) AND 7. The characters are forced to share a bed. (from this list of prompts)

pairing: jughead jones x reader

rating: t

word count: 4.7k

warnings: running away, bad family situation, parents issues, fluff, bed sharing

a/n: kinda deviating from the prompt tbh…also! this is my first time writing him and im probably gonna be writing him a lot tbh…this fic is ….i felt the need to have something to Relate To so if u know me u will probably understand what i mean…anyhow!! feedback is my life, please tell me if you enjoyed it !!

tagging: @harringtonmaximoff @abigailzwalker @emmcfrxst @archieandrewws @forsythe–jones @karazorelsgf @rinzlxr @jubillee @icepeters-book-trash @whoaheather @jugheadjones-iii

The night air was brisk as your feet hit the ground, your legs already hustling you away from the only home that you had ever known.

Your peers had always maintained healthy relationships with their parents, and you never understood how. You never understood how one’s mother could be so kind and sweet all the time. You never understood how one’s father could actually love you in a way that a father should. You never understood how people could enjoy having their parents around, to enjoy their company. You never understood how someone could even handle staying in the same room as their parents; that’s how bad it was. You never understood any of it, and you knew that you never would.

You had probably always been planning for this exact moment – when you would finally, finally leave. You had hoped to just stick it out; to wait until you were eighteen, and move in with a friend or something. You had hoped that you would last that long.

But now that you were sixteen, still two years off from that fated day of emancipation, you knew that you couldn’t stay any longer. It had gotten to be too much, all of it. You couldn’t stay there for one more minute, otherwise you just knew, in your heart of hearts, that you would self destruct.

“I have to leave,” you had told yourself earlier that week. You knew that you had to. You had done your research, and you could become an emancipated minor, away from them, and living on your own.

You hadn’t packed much. Most of the items you had in your backpack was food you’d snuck over the past few days – sandwiches, mostly – and bottles of water you’d surreptitiously gathered from the pantry over the course of the week. If you’d taken too many at once, they would be suspicious, and that would only mean one thing: plan busted.

And so, you had been patient. You’d waited, you’d endured – all week long. You had been patient, as you’ve always been for the past sixteen years of your life.

When the time finally came to leave, you didn’t miss a beat. You clambered through your bedroom window, pulling yourself to the other side first, and then grabbing your backpack, and you were on your way.

It wasn’t like he was looking for you; the two of you just had a Chem lab to do together, and you had half of the notes that was needed to actually finish the lab. He usually just…noticed your presence, that was all. He was always aware of when you were there and when you were not, and for the first time since you’d been at Riverdale High, he noticed that you weren’t there, thereby breaking the perfect attendance you undoubtedly had.

After the first day of class of you being absent, when the lab was due, Jughead had approached your teacher, asking, “Is it okay if y/n and I get an extra day to do it? Since she’s absent and all.”

“Of course,” the teacher replied, a tight lipped smile on her face. “All absent students get an equal amount of absent days to turn in work they fell behind on.”

He was about to leave it at that, but a part of him just had to ask – “Do you know where she is?” The teacher just raised an eyebrow to his query, and he shook his head. “I mean, do you know why she’s absent?”

She shook her head, “Nope, can’t say that I do. That’s private information, probably, at the least.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter this time as he shoved his hands into his pocket. “Yeah,” he repeated, “Thanks.”

You didn’t live in Riverdale, even though you went to Riverdale High. Your parents had wanted you to go there because of its apparent “high academics” and “athletically focused peers” – which you had never been, anyway – despite living ten miles away.

You hadn’t known whether you should go to school or not, that first day, and ultimately, you’d decided against it. There was too much of a risk of your parents looking for you there; too much of a risk at this point. If you went back home now, who knew what would happen to you?

And so you spent most of the day at Pop’s, knowing full well that the diner was the last place your family would think to look for you. They had never been fond of Pop’s for some reason (probably some deeply buried affair had occurred there that neither of them wanted to dredge up again, but, who was to really know? Most certainly not you), and that meant that you could stay there and be undetected by essentially everyone. Few frequented Pop’s often, and the diner was often empty, save for the occasional couple here and there, and old men reading the newspaper while nursing a cup of coffee for hours. There were few regulars, and most of those regulars were the types of folks people never paid attention to anyway – the ones who stuck to themselves and kept their noses down in a newspaper or, in the case of one particular regular, down in his laptop.

As you saw him approaching the front door of the restaurant, you immediately remembered the chemistry lab that you’d been absent for. The lab that he had been counting on you to help him with, because the two of you were partnered together.

You couldn’t face him, not now. There was nothing you could do to explain why you were here, but you hadn’t been at school. (Playing Hooky? No, he would never believe that you would ditch school for any reason. Sick? Hell, you’d been sick countless of times before, and you still endured going to school everyday.) There was no explanation that you could think of in that moment, no lie that you could tell, and so you ultimately decided against it all.

You moved to sit at the booth facing away from the front door, waiting until he had walked past you to get up, moving to the door that he had come out of, and exited the vicinity.

It had been nearly a week. By now, everyone at Riverdale High knew your name; y/n y/l/n was the one who was missing, and had been missing since last Sunday. Your parents had alerted the authorities, the school, hell, even random people on the street. They painted themselves as the distraught parents who just wanted to find their child again; the parents who had no idea where their child was and what had happened to cause for this supposed “disappearance”. Was it a murder? Was it like what had happened to Jason Blossom? Had you been kidnapped? Who knew! They didn’t, and they made that awfully clear as they spoke through strained sobs and quivering lips.

Jughead knew that it was all bullshit, especially since he could always tell by your body language – and the fact that you tensed up whenever someone mentioned their parents in general – that you hadn’t been close with your parents. He’d inferred, long ago, actually, that you didn’t quite have the best relationship with your parents, but really, who did?

Of course, that was before. Now, though? Now, he recognized your disappearance for what it was: you’d run away. Who knew where you were at the moment? It had been almost a week, you could’ve been miles away by now. There was nothing keeping you here, anyway. Nothing of importance.

He wasn’t sure if that bothered him or not.

It seemed like it took hours just to make your way back to Riverdale; after you had left the small town, you’d gone upward north to a town that you’d never heard of, find yourself spending $200 on a motel room to stay in for the week. The town had a McDonald’s across the street from your motel, so you spent your leftover $100 on McDouble’s and fries over the course of the week, spending most of your time staring at the Value Menu and asking for cups of water instead of paying the dollar for a cup of soda.

You were living on your own now, you couldn’t spend as often as you liked – not that your family had always had the most money, and not that you had come from a family of comfort, but still.

It was all you, now. All you.

Or, at least, it had been, until your savings account money had gotten depleted and you were left with no one to turn to, and no money to fall back on.

You weren’t going back home, you knew that much. You weren’t.

Rather, though, you trekked – on foot, of course (bus fees costed money; money that you didn’t have), the several miles to get back to Riverdale.

You hadn’t known what you were doing, your body moving on what seemed like autopilot as you walked down the darkened, streetlight illuminated streets, until you stood in front of his house.

You hadn’t known why you’d gone there. You hadn’t known why you’d decided that, since you had no one else to turn to, you should go to him. You hadn’t known why you were standing there, walking up to his front door, your hand trembling ever so faintly as you rapped on the door: once, twice, three times, your breath coming out shaky and uneven with anxiety as you waited for something to happen.

You didn’t know what. You didn’t know what to expect; and that was the tragedy of it all, wasn’t it? The pure fact that you didn’t know what was going to happen. You didn’t know what was to become of your life from that moment onward. You didn’t know what was to happen to you. Would you be sent back to life with your parents? Would you be forced to wander around on the streets, unable to create a life for yourself? Would you, would you, would you?

By the time he had opened the door, his gentle blue eyes dazed with sleep, his voice croaky as he asked a befuddled, “Y/N?”, tears were already formed in your eyes, piercing, hurting. It was all you could do to nod, your head bobbing up and down as a nonverbal, affirmative yes, it’s me, I’m not dead.

Before you even knew what was happening, he had his arms around you closely, engulfing you in a warm embrace that you hadn’t realized you’d been yearning for from someone all your life. Anyone. Someone.

You hadn’t known you’d craved a loving embrace until the moment he had wrapped his arms around you. Maybe it wasn’t in a way that he had meant, but it made all the more difference to you.

“What are you doing here? Everyone at school, they—” he began, but you just glanced up at him wordlessly.

“I’m the basket case, am I right?” you shrugged, “All sorts of wild theories of what happened to me?” He said nothing, only nodded his head. “Figures.”

“Your parents —” he began, but you stopped him, letting out a sigh.

“I don’t know why I came here,” you said, beginning to turn on your heels to leave.

“Wait, Y/N,�� he said, grabbing a hold of your wrist. “I know what you’re doing. You’re running.” His words had piqued your interest – he always had a way of reading people, especially you, and now was no exception. “I may not know why, but I know that much.”

You turned back to face him, letting out a breath filled with nerves. “I just…I can’t…I can’t do it, not anymore. Not with them. I have to get away from them, and running away…it was all I could do.”

“You’ve been missing for a week, Y/N,” Jughead commented, pointing out the obvious. “Where were you in all that time? Why would you come back now?”

“I don’t know…I don’t,” you groaned, rubbing a hand over your face. “I just…I was thinking of someone. Someone who would understand. Someone who would be there, and it just…brought me here. I don’t know why, especially since we barely know each other–” You let out a sigh, once again. “I have…nowhere else to go. Ran out of money. Don’t have a working permit, because then I would have to go back to school, and school means parents. So I’m just all around screwed, and I don’t know what to do.” You felt large, fat blobs of tears drop down your cheeks, rolling down your chin and onto your neck. You wiped away at them as best you could, but you found that the movement of the tears just made you irritated.

Jughead looked you over, his mind already racing with solutions to help you however he could. “It’s really late right now,” he commented.

You looked around the neighborhood for a moment, before deciding that, yes, it was, indeed, late. “I’m sorry, I’ll go–”

“You’re gonna stay with me for a while, okay?” he asked, however his voice sounded more as though it were a command, a mere fact. “I already have a couple ideas of what we can do, but I gotta think about that later, when it’s not the middle of the night and you’re not crying on my doorstep.” He pushed the door open wider, making room for you to squeeze on by, and he said, “Come in.”

You stepped in through the door, immediately noticing the roomy, cozy sort of feel that his house had. It was different from your parents’ home, where the air was always cold and it seemed as though every single one of you were walking on eggshells around another.

It was different in a good way.

In the faint darkness of the house, you could see photographs adorned and lined up along the walls like decor; photos of scenery, people, inspirational quotes. It was wonderfully different in the best way possible.

“C'mon,” Jughead said, guiding you down the hall to what you assumed was his room. His room wasn’t like what you had expected, although you weren’t entirely sure as to what you expected from him.

It was neat and tidy – that, you hadn’t expected – with a cleared desk for homework on one side, and a video game console on the other, with a TV in front of it.

“Am I supposed to stay in here?” you asked, your voice still shaky from the tears that had managed to slip out.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “There isn’t a spare room or anything, and…you look like you could use some company. That’s all.”

It was strange, how kind and sweet he was being. You had never even talked to him that often; outside of chemistry, you rarely even saw him, unless you were at Pop’s when he was.

And yet.

You glanced to the bed, and nodded your head slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

You didn’t have a problem with sleeping alongside him, although you did think that you probably should have. There was something about him, though – how easily he was willing to take you in, maybe? – that just made him seem more than trustworthy.

You slid into his bed first, his boyish scent engulfing you as you slipped underneath the covers, your eyes on him as he shrugged lightly, sliding in alongside you, his face right in front of yours.

“Why are you doing this for me?” you asked him, the confusion evident in your voice. “You don’t have to –”

“Go to sleep, Y/N,” was all he said, his body heat so much warmer, so much more comforting than yours. He grabbed a hold of your freezing fingers, taking your hands into his, and held them, woven together as though you were holding hands.

Slowly, with your eyes drifting closed as you counted the light marked freckles that dotted his face, you fell asleep; peace and quietness coming to your brain and surrounding you completely, telling you that you were no longer as alone as you had been before.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he echoed amidst the clutches sleep already had on you. His voice sounded foggy, like you were being submerged in water and he was on dry land. Miles away, and yet right in front of you.

He was here.

The next day, you had found yourself waking up at four pm.

That can’t be right, you told yourself as you glanced to your phone. As the screen lit up, it became very clear that, yes, it really was that late.

You’d been asleep for around sixteen hours.

Sliding out of his bed, you realized that it was to be expected; this past week you’d been sleeping for around five hours every night, constantly on edge and thriving on mainly burnt, bitter tasting coffee from the McCafé.

You glanced out his window, finding that there weren’t any cars in the driveway, leading you to assume that his parents weren’t home at the moment.

Turning to his drawers, you rummaged around his clothing, looking for something, anything, to put on, just so you could change out of the same two shirts and pair of jeans that you’d been wearing constantly for a week. You settled on choosing a light grey shirt and a pair of baggy black sweats from the bottom drawer, immediately stripping of your current clothing and into his.

Once you had his clothing on, you moved to the door, opening it ever so cautiously, peeking outside of it, at first, before walking out and down the hall to the kitchen that you’d seen as you ventured into his home the night before.

To say you were hungry was an understatement. It had been a while since you had last eaten, and you were feeling quite famished. The hankering for something, anything, was great, but not unbearably so.

As you opened the refrigerator, you immediately understood why Jughead went to Pop’s so often, and for hours on end. There wasn’t too much food to be found in the fridge, nor the freezer. A couple of Yoplait yogurts. Several oranges. Grapes. A plate of left over mac and cheese. A quart of cranberry ice cream. A hunk of cheese.

That was essentially it. Not even you could make something from nothing, and so you decided that it would be best to just know wait for Jughead to return, hopefully with food, and hopefully with answers.

He had debated over whether he should tell someone about you. You didn’t really have any friends to tell anyway, to tell that you’re okay and safe, but he didn’t know if someone should know that you were alright or not. It was a tricky thing, harboring someone in his house like this.

He still didn’t know why he did it. He wasn’t entirely sure, not at all. There was just some part of him that wanted you to be safe, a part of him that wanted you to be okay. He wanted to take you from the bad situation you were in at home, and so, he did.

That’s what he’d done. That’s what had happened.

But why did he do that? As you’d pointed out last night, he barely even knew you. The two of you only ever really saw each other during class, and that was all.

And yet?

“I’m gonna need this to go, Pops,” he told the owner of the diner, and Pops raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not staying the long night today?” he asked, and Jughead shook his head.

“Can’t. Not today,” he said, fishing out a twenty dollar bill. “I’ve got a prior engagement.”

Pops snorted, “A date? Is that it?”

Jughead narrowed his eyes, saying, “Its not – it’s not a date, okay?”

“What is it, then?” Pops questioned, “You got a publisher lined up for that novel thing you’re always writing?”

“It’s not finished yet,” Jughead mumbled, passing the money over as Pops beamed.

“Well, whatever it is, It must be pretty damn important to get you out of here for the night,” Pops said, passing him the bag of hamburgers and fries over to him.

“Yeah, it is,” he said automatically, not realizing a single thing that he had just subconsciously admitted to. Taking one last look at Pops, who had the most knowing smile of all, he turned curtly on his heels and walked out of the diner, and into the dusk.

You were going through the vinyl records that he had all in one giant stack in the corner of his room, observing the various artists and songs that were on each one. You hadn’t been there all too long, but you could already tell that his way of living was significantly different from the way yours had been with your family. You would’ve never dreamed of owning as many vinyls as he had, let alone listening to the type of music that he did.

It was still intriguing, though.

You were about to pull out the next vinyl in sight, when the bedroom door creaked open, and in came the raven haired boy who had rapidly become your only hope in anything.

“What are you doing?” he asked you curiously, and you froze on the spot.

“Nothing,” you said as you slid the vinyl back in its place. “What are you doing?”

He looked at your for a bit longer before shrugging, exhaling a laugh as he shook his head. “I got us dinner,” he said, raising the bag from Pop’s triumphantly, a smile immediately making its way to your face.

“Thank you,” you beamed, the emotion from his kindness lodging itself into your throats again. “Really,” you said, your voice cracking, “Thank you.”

Jughead let out a breath and said a simple, “You don’t have to thank me, okay?”

“But you’re going out of your way to do…all this,” you sniffed, “for me. And you don’t have to.”

“Y/N,” he said your name, but you shook your head.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, running away. I should just,” you sucked in a deep breath, “go back home.”

“No,” he said, his voice suddenly strong and hard with conviction.

“No?” you questioned, the quiver in your voice not going unnoticed by him.

“I’m not gonna let you go back there,” he said. “Y/N, you left for a reason. I might not know what that reason is, but I know that you felt like you had to leave, and that’s all that matters. So, no, you’re not going back there. I won’t let you have to go through whatever it is you went through, all over again.”

“But…but why? You don’t have to do any of this for me, you shouldn’t have to—”

“Y/N, listen to me. For now, you’re in my hands. We’ll figure all that other stuff out later,” he said, the blues of his eyes staring directly into your own eyes. “You don’t have to worry,” he reminded you, wiping a strand tear from your cheek, “Just leave it to me for now, alright?”

All you could do was nod.

Days went on like that, each folding into another as the two of you researched all that you could on the topic of becoming an emancipated minor. During the day, while he was at school, you read up on all that you could, and once he came home, the two of you ate together, sharing information after having eaten. After that point, his parents usually came home from work, so you were left to hide out in his room quietly for a suspended amount of time until they went off to bed at ten thirty pm every night. Jughead would do his homework then, if he had any, and you would spend your time reading the books that he had hidden in his bookshelves.

It had gotten to the point where the two of you became comfortable sleeping alongside one another; a week into doing so, and it was just commonplace. It was as though it was something that was so small, but so meaningful.

He had been right, that first day. You had always yearned for loving human contact, one that you never received from your time with your parents, and one you didn’t know that you’d been withheld from until he had his arms wrapped around you at night, or his hands were intertwined with yours, his lips pressed against them as though they were a prized possession.

Two weeks into it all, and you were having yet another sleepless night filled with nightmares. The dream was one that had made your more distressed than anything, causing you to feel sympathy for your parents in spite of all the things that they had put you through in the past. In your dream, they had died, and that made you feel as though you would be sad without them. Worse yet; that you were sad without them.

But you weren’t. You weren’t sad without them, not when you were enjoying the strange sort of “life” that you had with Jughead, now.

But should you have felt bad? Should you have gone back home long ago?

“What is it?” he said quietly in the dead of night, his eyes still closed in a way that made you realize that you thought he was asleep. One eye popped open at a time until he was asking you again, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” you said softly, confused and perplexed on what to say. “I just…what if what I’m doing…what if I shouldn’t be doing it? What if I should just go back home and suck it up?”

“Y/N…” he began, and you were quick to follow up with,

“I know, it’s dumb, I shouldn’t be thinking like that. I don’t want to be thinking like that, but it’s just…” you sighed once more. “I’m happy here. I’m happy with you. But I don’t know what I should be doing, or thinking, or whatever. I’m just…so confused.”

���You don’t have to be,” Jughead said, and you let out a faux chuckle.

“I know. I know that I can, I just,” you shrugged, “I don’t know.” You raised an eyebrow at him and asked, “Do you ever just, not know?”

He nodded his head, his blue eyes looking as bright as ever in the faint lighting. “Of course.”

“What do you do then? What are you supposed to do then?” you wondered.

“I just…do whatever I think is right,” he said, his voice sounding firm in his conviction.

“And what do you think is ‘right’?” you asked him, your eyes not leaving his for a moment. “Right now. What do you think is right?”

He looked at you for a second before saying, “This.” The moment he said that, he leaned in, ever so gently pressing his soft lips against your own, causing for every single one of your nerves to stand on end as you were able to grasp the simplest of concepts known to man: he was kissing you! He was kissing you, and you weren’t stoping him. Why would you stop him, though? Why would you put a stop to something that you had subconsciously been craving for the longest time? Why would you stop this boy, this boy who clearly and obviously cared so much about you, from kissing you like you wanted him to?

You wouldn’t, and so you didn’t. Instead, you found yourself missing back, your lips moving against his as you placed a hand behind his neck, deepening the kiss before it could end.

You never wanted it to end.

a/n: aaaand that’s it !! this was like the first thing ive written that’s over 1k long in a while lmao. i hope you enjoyed lovelies !!