#i think i accidentally drew him like how i originally imagined kevin

[mavilez]

congrats to jean moreau for getting his own book1!!!

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 4 || Finding Balance

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse.

Words:

Previous ||  Next

~4~

Barry sat somewhat uncomfortably in the seat that he normally occupied when he was visiting Dr. Fletcher; it was usually a place that he took comfort with relaxing in, but this time he was too on edge to be able to do that. He had come to Dr. Fletcher when he had struggled through a day of work at the zoo. He hadn’t been right since Iris had run off; even the other alters were having trouble sleeping and focusing throughout their days.

 “I’m sorry, Doc, I gotta go,” Barry called suddenly, hearing Fletcher shuffling around in the other room. She’d stepped out a while before and he’d heard her speaking with someone on the phone, but then she’d come back in and had tried to offer him food and drinks, maybe a tea that might help relax him. When she left again, once more dialing someone on the phone, Barry was left with his thoughts.

 He’d been fighting against the urge to go out and find Iris for the past week while maintaining his steady hours at work and letting the other alters take the light on their off time. He hadn’t been sleeping and even the others who had been in the light since then were much the same—not as bad, but still disrupted and draining.

Rising from his chair to leave as he tucked his hands into his pockets, he could barely hear Fletcher as she rushed back toward him, trying to call him back inside. Barry pushed the sound of her voice into the back of his mind, rushing down the first flight of stairs with such speed that the coat he had on billowed behind him as though caught on the wind.

 He didn’t blame the psychiatrist; she’d done her best to help him through everything, but there was nothing that an outsider could do to ease the struggles of an incomplete soulbond. She had tried, and he was thankful that she was there for him even if she couldn’t help him this time. Her words and encouragement were amazing when it came to the situation of him and the other alters, as well as Kevin, but this situation was out of her reach.

 Thinking back to his first glimpse of Iris, caught by surprise when she’d opened the door to see him on the other side; he’d been amazed by the soft colour of her eyes. A mix of amber and brown, soft like water but strong like whiskey. Her skin was pale as snow and looked like it would be made of porcelain if he touched it. She was beautiful. But she was afraid. Immediately after he’d spoken, the look that had overcome her eyes made his heart drop.

 Had it not been for Dr. Fletcher’s assurances he would have continued to assume that it was his fault; she just didn’t want him. Thankfully, that had not been the case. She had just been afraid due to her own past.

 Turning on the last landing of the stairs to finish the steps to the front door, Barry stopped so suddenly that his feet nearly slid out from under him.

 Iris stood at the base of the stairs with one foot on the first step, wide eyes focused upward where he was standing. She was in barely more than old grey sweats, stained and covered in accidental bleach spots, and an oversized sweater that hung loose around her neck and down to mid-thigh. Her hood was up, but he could see that her hair was darkened and wet, twisted and pulled over one shoulder to dampen the material of her sweater.

 She looked worse than him

 Her pale skin was nearly transparent and her eyes had deep bruises beneath them. She looked like she’d been awake since the moment she’d left Fletcher’s building. Where her hand was resting on the banister, he could see the black writing of one of her soulmarks encircling the bone.

 “Iris,” he breathed out in shock.

 The time apart had made her ill; that much was obvious. He was able to rely on the strength of the others over the week, but she had been on her own.

 Her lips parted as though to speak, but no words came out as she continued to stare up at him in something akin to awe. However, he could see even from where he was standing when her eyes watered with the overwhelming emotion. Barry could only imagine what he looked like to her, the both of them thoroughly exhausted and strung out.

 “Barry…” the soft whimper barely registered to his hearing, but he could see her lips when they mouthed his name. “I’m so sorry.”

 Rushing down the steps, Barry wrapped her tiny form in his arms before she could even step onto even ground again. As soon as his arms came around her the tense muscles of her shoulders relaxed, slumping against him like dead weight. Her head barely came beneath his chin and when he wrapped his arms around her to hold her closer, she felt completely cocooned in warmth.

 His chin had pushed her hood from her head, letting him rest against her damp hair as the smell of soap rose to his senses, her body chilled from her journey to Fletcher’s building in the dark. He could feel when her arms slipped around his torso beneath his coat, taking in his warmth as she leaned against him in fatigue and assurance.

 “I’m sorry I ran away,” she mumbled softly, her words barely audible enough to be heard over his own pounding heart.

 “That’s okay. Everything’s okay,” he assured quietly, shifting to rest his cheek against the top of her head. The hollow pain in his chest began to ease as he hold onto her, the closeness of his soulmate healing the ache from her running away. “You’re okay.”

 “I hurt you,” she whimpered faintly, pulling back from him only enough to look up at him with watery eyes. “I didn’t want you to hurt.” Her pale, thin hands came to rest against his cheeks as her thumbs ghosted beneath his eyes. His skin was soft there, but she could see that there was texture to his cheeks and jaw from years of shaving. He knew that she was touching the bruises that mirrored her own, though he could already see that hers were worse.

 His hands came to frame her face as he looked at her properly for the first time. Her cheeks were thin and her cheekbones were sharp, making her whiskey eyes look so wide in comparison. She was so slender, fragile and delicate, and her skin was cool to the touch when his hands framed her face. When she swallowed, her throat and jaw worked with the movement as muscles and tendons shifted beneath his hands. He hadn’t noticed before, but she had the faintest trace of freckles on her nose.

 “I’m not alone,” Barry soothed, “We had each other. But you…you were alone.”

 Having his words confirm what she already knew, Iris closed her eyes while leaning into his touch.

 He was warm. So warm. When she had leaned into him, wrapped her arms around him, she had felt the muscle that was masked beneath the thick layers of his clothing. It made her want to hold onto him and not let go. There was security in his arms, which was a concept that was sadly new to her. “I promise, Iris, you won’t be alone anymore.” She looked up at him when he spoke again, doubt hidden very faintly in her expression. No offence was taken when he saw it, knowing from experience that it was hard to trust after having family break that trust.

 “Twenty three,” she whispered, holding the steady stare of his soft blue eyes. They widened fractionally when she said the number before flicking down to her wrist, the black writing still lining the joint. He couldn’t see the words clear enough form this perspective, but he knew that it was a soulmark for one of the alters. “Is that how many there are?”

 “Yes,” he answered honestly, nodding against her hands. “Kevin had a…difficult childhood. We were born to keep him safe.”

 “Kevin,” she mumbled, testing the name. “So, he was the original personality?”

 “Yes, Kevin Crumb. The rest of us came to be over time, when he needed us the most. We were there to keep him safe from the life that he once lived. We keep him safe even now.” As he spoke, his fingers caressed her hollow cheeks, down the delicate line of her throat and jaw. “He is too fragile for this world.”

 She had suspected that Barry, and therefore all the other alters, had lived a difficult life. It was the reason they existed. But to have it said aloud, confirming her suspicions and the small hints that Fletcher had offered over the phone, broke her heart

 “And you,” he continued, “I don’t want this world to break you.”

 Iris couldn’t help the smile that faintly touched her lips when he confessed that, the burn of tears increasing until a simple blink brought it cascading down her cheek. Barry immediately swiped it away, the moisture collecting in the palm of his fingerless gloves. “I am stronger than I look,” she assured while trying to fight back anymore tears from slipping free. “The marks…all of your words…they made me strong.”

 Withdrawing her hands from him, she stepped back to put space between them and began sliding her right sleeve up. There were scatterings of marks along her forearm, but it was the mark encircling her bicep that drew his eyes. The words that he said to her a week before were messy against her skin, his writing more scratchy from the sketchy way he drew. It was definitely his writing.

 Reaching for her arm, pausing long enough to meet her eyes for permission, Barry gently traced his words with his thumb as he took her thin arm in his hand. By doing so he came to realize, as well, that she was thin but she was not as delicate as she appeared. Her biceps had a decent amount of muscle definition—she was still terribly thin when comparing her to his own size, but she wasn’t as unhealthy as he had feared.

 “I am sorry I ran away from you, Barry. I’ve never regretted something more…but I was scared to come back.”

 Barry frowned as he gently released her bicep, letting his hands lower until they took hers in a gentle hold. Soft. Her hands were so soft. He hadn’t noticed that when she was touching his face; though he had known that her fingers held a distinct chill. From the cool spring air, he hoped, and not because of a health problem.

 “What were you afraid of?”

 Iris let out a sound that was a mix between a sob and laugh. “I was afraid you’d turn me away. I wasn’t sure if Fletcher was right…about a soulmark for each personality. I was worried you would turn me away once you found out about the other twenty-two marks.” Shaking her head at her own thoughts, realizing now the absolute ridiculousness of her running away—she’d done what she was afraid would be done to her. “And what was done to my marks.”

 Barry’s hands briefly clenched hers. Looking down to her arm as he gently turned it, Iris seemed to realize what he was looking for and released his hand to push up her other sleeve as well, turning her arm so that he could see the long scar running down through the mark on the outside of her arm. He’s told us about you, little one, he really likes you. Barry ran his thumb along the scar as rage for her parents welled in his chest.

 He wasn’t normally angered to such a degree, and when he was angered he normally had a better hold on his emotions, but this was…inhuman.

 Lifting her arm up, Barry pressed a kiss against the scar. “I promise, Iris, that there is nothing you could do, or have done, to turn us away.”

 Iris’s battle with her emotions tipped out of her favour when her tears began to flow more freely from her eyes, dripping down her cheeks as the worry and doubt bled away. Barry pulled her sleeves back down as the chill from the entranceway brought forth his concern for her, wanting her to be warm. Then he gently coaxed her back into his embrace so as not to spook her; she immediately buried her face in his chest to hide her tears while her arms wound around his torso.

 “Hey, wanna go get coffee or something? I mean, I wanna get to know you better but I understand if you want to go and get some sleep. You look like you’ve had a hell of a week,” Barry proposed as his chin came to rest comfortably against the top of her head.

 The vibrations of his voice helped to soothe her, feeling and hearing his words at the same time.

 She was the perfect height in comparison to him. Short to his tall, lean to his muscled, quiet to his boisterous. He’d never quite been able to picture what his soulmate would look like, sound like, or even behave like. Yet, now that he had listened to her speak and taken in each detail about her that he could, he couldn’t have pictured anything more accurate.

 He couldn’t wait for the others to meet her; she was perfect for them. And he knew that as shy and timid as she was now, there were many of them that would do everything they could to draw out the true Iris—the one that had hidden away to protect herself from whoever had caused those scars. And others would be more than happy to be quiet and subdued alongside her, basking in similar introvert qualities.

 Iris’s arms tightened around him before she freed one of them to properly wipe her face of tears, majority having already soaked into Barry’s shirt. Not that he minded. “I’m off all weekend; plenty of time to sleep later. Coffee sounds great.”

 Neither took notice of Dr. Fletcher standing just out of view on the landing above them, smiling faintly at the knowledge that the two would be okay.

 Exiting the building allowed for the wind and cold air to return to Iris’s awareness, prompting her to pull her hood up to cover her damp hair. “I don’t usually go to cafes, so I hope you know one?” she posed quietly.

 “Uh…yea, I think I know one around here. Dunno if it’s still open, though,” Barry admitted bashfully. Iris couldn’t help but to smile as she nodded her head, letting him lead the way. They were heading in the direction of her apartment, so she at least knew they would be close to home. Thinking back, though, she only knew of one café in this area and it was one she passed often while on her way to work. She’d always just made her own coffee or tea to bring to work, instead of stopping to buy one.

 “So…what do you do?” Iris asked first, deciding that they had to start the conversation somewhere and she wasn’t interested in walking in awkward silence the entire way.

 “For work? Or as a hobby?” Barry asked in return while glancing at her briefly, stepping closer to her as another couple passed them to head in the opposite direction. He was relieved to see that she didn’t flinch when he stepped closer to her, so she was at least somewhat comfortable with his presence. He had a feeling that it was most likely because of the soulmark—them being together had hopefully appeased it.

 “Both, I guess.”

 “Well, I’m a manager at the Philadelphia Zoo,” he answered immediately, pride colouring his tone as he tucked his hands into his pockets. He had the urge to reach out and loop Iris’s arm through his, but her own hands had slipped into the large pocket of her sweater to keep them warm. “Personally, though, I love art and fashion. I’ve been designing things for a while, sketching out what comes to mind.”

 “Really? Have you ever created your designs?” Iris asked curiously as she thought back to the scratchy way he wrote. Now that she knew he was artistic she could make the connection with art sketches she’d seen in the past.

 Barry sucked in his bottom lip as he shook his head. “Nah, maybe later but right now I just…enjoy the process of drawing them out. I guess you could say it’s my…stress reliever? Like how some people have diaries or journals? I’ve usually only shown my drawings to some of the others, and Dr. Fletcher, of course.”

 “I can understand that,” Iris responded in understanding, noticing the way his expression lightened when he brought up art. “I suppose that makes my stress reliever music. When I was a kid, I would love to hum songs that I knew and when I got older I took some lessons with instruments and singing. Never really used them to perform, though.”

 The two stopped at an intersection as Barry tapped the button to cross, leaving them to wait as the wind blew hard around the corner of the building. Iris hunched against the cold, tucking her arms close to her sides as her hands fisted in her pocket. Barry’s keen attention for detail noticed the slight changes and quickly stepped back to shake the coat off his shoulders and down his arms; Iris watched in surprise for a moment before she realized his intention and opened her mouth to stop him.

 “No, take it,” he insisted, swinging the coat around her shoulders. Her arms weren’t in the sleeves, but it was large enough that it draped over her like a cape. “You’re too skinny; nothin’ to keep you warm!”

 “Thank you,” she answered quietly, pulling the coat closed in front of her as the crosswalk sign turned to walk.

 They quickly crossed the street and kept heading straight, closer still to Iris’s apartment building. “So, what do you do?” Barry continued their previous conversation, swinging it around on her. “Other than music,” he added on before she could reply.

 Iris could pick up easily that he had a very social, extraverted personality. For him to have been so calm and patient with her, even up until that moment, made her heart pick up slightly. “I’m a manager at a bookstore,” she started. “I…I didn’t finish school, so I kind of use books to teach myself whatever I wanted to learn. I’ve always loved to read and when I started part-time at a bookstore it was like a dream. I’ve been there for ten years now.” It was slightly embarrassing to admit that she hadn’t finished school; the only people who knew that were her bosses, but they didn’t mind since they hadn’t finished it either when they were young.

 “Got a library of your own at home?” Barry asked teasingly, drawing a laugh from Iris.

 “I wish; if I had the space, I definitely would. I’m just in a little studio, but I get plenty of books at work to tide me over.”

 Barry was listening so attentively to her that he nearly missed the café they were walking passed, but both he and Iris jerked to a stop at the same time when the smell of coffee drifted to them from the opening door as a young woman stepped out in a hurry. “Oh…we’re here.”

 The bashfulness in his tone caused Iris to smile, following him as he stepped up to catch the door before it closed. Politely, Barry waved her in first. “Thanks,” she mumbled with a nod of her head, stepping into the small, homey café that was filled with the aroma of coffee and pastries. Barry followed quickly behind her, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly at his easy distraction.

 Iris moved to one of the tables further to the back of the room, away from the door and windows. She smiled politely to the woman behind the counter who was already moving out from around the counter as Barry followed Iris over to the table. “Do you know what you want?” she asked while glancing between the two of them with a smile.

 “Do you serve decaf here?” Iris asked first, knowing that coffee wouldn’t be a good idea when she was already so sleep deprived.

 The waitress’s smile wavered slightly. “Sorry, we used to but it wasn’t very popular so we stopped ordering it. We have a large selection of teas, though.”

 “Chamomile?” Iris inquired, relieved to see the smile return to the woman’s face. “I’ll have a large tea, then.” As she was speaking, Iris carefully pulled Barry’s coat off of her shoulders and gently draped it over the back of her chair.

 Nodding as she mentally made note, the woman then glanced over to Barry. “And for you?”

 “Do you have Chai tea?”

 “We do indeed. Large as well?” Barry smile charismatically as he nodded. “Alright, I’ll have those to you in a moment. Will you need any creams or sugars?” Iris and Barry exchanged looks with one another, shaking their heads before they looked to the waitress and repeated the action. Leaving them to their own as the two took a seat at the table that Iris had selected, she immediately began preparing their drinks with practiced ease.

 Iris folded her hands nervously in her lap as she glanced between Barry’s focused eyes and the clean tabletop. “I walk passed this place every day on my way to work; never actually gone in, though.”

 “Really?” Barry asked with mild surprise. “What’s the name of the bookstore?”

 “’Pages of the World’,” she answered easily, noting the moment a look of recognition came to his eyes. “You know it?”

 A broad smile lit his features as he nodded. “Yea, I’ve been in there. I can’t believe I’ve never run into you before! To think, you’ve been so close all this time. You guys sell sketchbooks for a good price, that’s usually where I go.”

 The soft, nostalgic way in which he spoke caused Iris’s stomach to flutter. “Can’t rush fate—that’s what I’ve been told, anyway.” Barry’s attention was drawn down to where she had shifted her hands in her lap, unconsciously beginning to run her fingers along the writing atop her palm. He forced himself to look away before he tried to identify the writing. That wasn’t for him to see—they were not his words, therefore they were for someone else. One of the other alters.

 “We’ve met now, so that’s what counts. Nothing to rush anymore.”

Previous || Next

[certifiedskywalker]

Alright - Reader X Jughead Jones X Veronica Lodge

Anonymous said:

"I’d be willing to take on a few more!" - My original request was, "Would you consider writing a reader x Jughead x Veronica wherein Veronica decides she's tired of watching reader and Jughead dance around each other and keeps inviting herself to hang out with the two in order to push them together, only to determine she likes their dynamic as a trio better?"

I wasn’t really sure how to take this one, as it’s my first reader X two other people imagine. I hope I did good for you! Sorry for the requesting hassle.

Today was another one of those days, where it was so painfully obvious to Veronica that you and Jughead Jones had feelings for each other. The accidental brushing of fingers, and the longing stares had become painful to see. She had talked and pestered you about him for weeks on end, yet there was still no result. It even got to the point where she talked to Jughead on the subject matter, but he just stayed quiet. She had tried everything  to get you two together, but simply sitting by each other at lunch wasn’t enough. So, using her cupid-like powers, she devised a plan.

“Supervised dates?” You raised your eyebrow at Veronica who just smiled proudly. “I’m acting as your training wheels in a sense,” she elaborated, “until you and Jughead grow comfortable with your feelings, I’ll be there to guide the date along.” You continued to stare at Veronica, wondering why on Earth she thought that this was a good idea.

“Please, Y/N,” she said looking into your pretty eyes, “It’s been torturous watching you and Jughead looking at each other then looking away, looking again, looking away and then you look at each other-”

“Okay, okay! I will try this idea, only if you think it will work.” Veronica gave you one of those smiles you loved to see and nodded. “It will work, just you wait.”

The first supervised date was a simple evening out at Pop’s. You all ordered milkshakes and split a basket of fries.

“So what’s going on in the life of our favorite novel writer-detective guy?” You and Jughead awkwardly looked at Veronica who just laughed.

“Answer the question, Jones,” she said through her laughter, “just answer the question.” He smiled at you then Veronica, “nothing really. Working on the case with Betty most of the time.”

“Did you guys get any new leads?” Jughead nodded somberly and was about to list them when Veronica interrupted.

“Can we stray away from murder please? Death normally doesn’t make good date conversation.” You almost spit out your milkshake at Veronica’s words.

“This is a date,” Jughead asked with squinted eyes. You looked at Veronica who realized what she had done.

“Yes, it is. I’m sick and tired of you two dancing around your feelings so I decided that I would supervise your dates until you felt open enough to date by yourselves.” You turned to Jughead whose eyebrows were raised, and then you starting laughing. It sounded so ridiculous hearing it a second time. Jughead started to laugh too, which made Veronica smile. At least everything was out in the open now; well, most of it. Jughead stopped laughing, looking at you and Veronica in deep thought.

“Alright,” he said suddenly and Veronica smiled. “Really,” you asked, making sure that Jughead was comfortable with it. He nodded and Veronica clapped her hands together.

“This is great,” she said with a smile, “and remember, whenever you want me gone, just tell me.” You looked at Jughead, who was looking at you, and he nodded. You smiled with a blush on your cheeks and turned to Veronica, nodding along with Jughead.

Except, that time never came. The next few supervised dates, one of which Veronica thought you’d tell her to leave, still included the three of you. You found yourself enjoying the time spent with both Jughead and Veronica slightly more than thought of just being alone with Jughead. You had always thought Veronica was pretty, but your feelings for Jughead initially clouded over your eyes. Now you could feel deeper feelings, than you thought you could ever have, growing for both of them. You didn’t dare bring this up with anyone, fearful to how they would react. Little did you know, Jughead also enjoyed the time spent with the both of you as well. He found the both of you stunningly gorgeous, and had done research on how three way relationships work. He kept this to himself, but brought it up with you when he thought he was going to explode. On a day Veronica had cheerleading practice, Jughead offered to walk you home.

“Hey Y/N, do you feel like,” he stopped walking, trying to find the right words. “I think we should all date,” he finally said, avoiding eye contact. You stepped in front of him, trying to get him to look into your eyes.

“I just think,” he started, shaking his head. He looked back at you with resolve, “I don’t want to seem greedy, but I’ve opened up to you and Veronica so much-” You interrupted his speech with a kiss. His hand went to your jaw, pulling your lips against his in a deeper kiss. You pulled away breathless and staring into his wide eyes.

“Yes,” you whispered, “I agree with you.” He smiled down at you, the worry on his face melting away. You squeezed his hand to reassure him and he felt truly happy in the first time since the Twilight closed. You both continued to walk, making plans to tell Veronica about how you didn’t want supervised dates anymore; you wanted real dates now. Jughead walked you up to your door, a smiled plastered on his face.

“So Pop’s after school,” he said, restating your plans, “I’m in charge of flowers, and you’re treating us to dinner.” You nodded, fiddling with your fingers as you thought of the day to come.

“Soon,” he said, grabbing your anxious hands and rubbing his fingers over the knuckles to sooth you, “we will be able to split date costs.” You smiled up at him, and wondered what this would be like when you both finally brought in Veronica.

You swallowed hard as you walked up to where Veronica was standing near her locker. You thought back to the plan and the many conversations you had with Jughead. You weren’t just asking her out for yourself, you were also asking for him in a way. You endured your nerves and walked over to Veronica. When you made your way over, she turned to give you a bright smile. You returned it warmly and Betty, who was talking to Veronica, snuck away with Kevin.

“What’s up, Y/N?” Veronica continued to smile, looking you up and down. You blushed under her gaze and she smiled wider.

“Me and Jughead were wondering if you wanted to go to Pop’s after school,” you said blashfullily. She smiled, placing her hand to her chest in fake shock. You felt the knot in your stomach loosen when she nodded.

“Of course I will,” she said, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “But if you’re not careful I might steal one of you for myself.” You smiled softly, hoping she would actually take you both. You extended your arm for Veronica to take. She smiled at you as she linked her arm around yours. You started to walk towards the school exit, making quiet conversation with Veronica. As you made your way, you silently hoped that Jughead was doing alright.

When you arrived at Pop’s, Veronica went to use the restroom. You took the moment of freedom to ask Pop if he had seen or heard from Jughead. He simply smiled and point towards a secluded booth in the far corner of the restaurant.

“He told me he was having a special date,” Pops said with a grin, “needed a special table to set up.” You felt a blush bloom on your cheeks as you felt someone pull on your arm gently. You turned and smiled at Veronica. You lead her to the table that Pop pointed out and showed her to her seat. She smiled as she sat, carefully sliding into the booth.

“So where’s Jughead?” You looked around the diner, hoping he would arrive soon.

“He’s-” you started but you felt a breeze that drew your attention away from Veronica and towards the door. You saw Jughead rushing towards the table, his hands behind his back. He walked up to the table, standing near the edge of it.

“There he is,” Veronica said fondly, and Jughead smiled. He turned to you and you could see how nervous he was. You gave him a reassuring smile and he nodded towards you. He pulled his hands away from his back, revealing two pink roses. He extended one to you and the other to Veronica. You smiled and took the flower with a grin, so did Veronica.

“Thanks Juggie,” Veronica said as he slid into your side of the booth, “this is very unexpected.” He nodded with pink cheeks, turning to look down at you. He put his arm over your shoulders and Veronica grinned.

“You two are adorable! I assume that the rose is a thank you and this is our very last supervised date, yes?” You and Jughead looked at each other, silently asking the other if they were ready to face the music. He gave you a nod and you leaned forward, facing Veronica directly.

“Me and Jughead didn’t just want to thank you tonight,” Veronica raised an eyebrow at your words. You swallowed nervously, looking at Jughead for support.

“We came to the conclusion that we both,” he glanced at you, “want to spend time with you. Not just as friends but as, if you want this as well, a throuple.” He smiled softly, hopefully at Veronica. You reached your hand under the table, squeezing his gently. You took in the expression on Veronica’s face. Her brown eyes were wide as she looked at you both.

“Well I,” she started, extending her hands to the both of you, “for one, would love to give this a try. I guess I never realized it but the idea of a throuple with you two seems amazing.” You grabbed one of her hands, squeezing it. Jughead held the other, smiling softly at all of your joined hands. “I still can’t believe you used the word ‘throuple’.” Veronica said with a smile, you started to laugh while Jughead just shook his head in defeat.

“If that leaves this table,” he said with a small grin gracing his lips, “throuple or not, I will hunt you down.” You let out a giggle and Veronica just rolled her eyes. The three of you spent another few hours at the diner, chatting, admitting deeper feelings and laughing. When it came time to leave, Veronica and Jughead walked you out. 

“We’ll see ya tomorrow Y/N,” Jughead said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.You nodded, and Veronica stepped forward. 

“Yes, sleep well.” You smiled when she pressed a kiss to your other cheek. You saw your parent’s car drive up in the parking lot. It stopped, and you waved goodbye to your boyfriend and your girlfriend.

 That afternoon, you left the diner knowing that you were lucky. Lucky to have no just one, but two supportive people that care for you deeply. The months that followed held warm cuddles from both Jughead and Veronica during movie nights at the Lodge’s. Tons of shared kisses and curious wonderings. As soon as it became apparent to you and Veronica that Jughead had no home, the two of you offered to take him in every other weeks. You all grew closer, bonded and grew together; and it all started with an “alright.”